Edgewater

"Growing up in Edgewater, I was always aware of Lake Michigan's presence, whether it was the roar of the whitecaps from a blustery north wind or the smell of dead alewives rotting on the beach." John Laue 

                          Dorreen Carey with whitecaps and Chicago skyline in background
John Laue asked my advice on expanding the oral history of Edgewater, located near Lake Michigan just east of Gary’s Miller district in Porter County, that I had published in “Tales of Lake Michigan” Steel Shavings (volume 28, 1998).  He had written then that his family had moved there from Chicago in 1951 when he was six and that their log cabin was in a wooded area at the bottom of a large sand dune at the end of one-block-long Oak Place. In a new essay he wrote:

  The Edgewater community was a great place to grow up.  There were lots of Baby Boomer kids to play with, and wonderful places to explore.  Like most children of that era, we were able to leave our homes right after breakfast and not return until dinnertime during the summer. We spent hours playing in the woods, wetlands, sand dunes, and white sand beaches along the Lake Michigan shoreline.   We built forts in the woods, played baseball and football in the sand, and swam in the lake. 

    My friends and I learned how to adapt our sports activities to our unique dunes environment.  For example, we played hours and hours of baseball on a field of sand where we quickly learned how to hit a baseball in the air instead of on the ground.  A ground ball, on matter how hard it was hit, would only travel a few feet in the soft sand.  So we learned how to hit line drives, fly balls and pop-ups…any ball hit in the air was better than hitting it on the ground.     In the fall, we played tackle football on the top of a nearby sand dune.  Even though I was very small and skinny (5’6”, 125 lbs.), I never got hurt playing tackle football.  We need shoulder pads or any other equipment because the soft sand provided a nice cushion for tackling.  As one of the smaller and quicker kids on the field, I usually ran my way out of trouble, but I remember one time someone hitting me so hard at the line of scrimmage that I was thrown into the air and fell to the ground with a thud.  Except for some sand in my mouth and some wounded pride, I wasn’t hurt at all, and I don’t remember anyone else ever getting seriously injured either.

    One of the amazing things about sand dunes is their regenerative power and their movement from one place to another.  Any evidence of the sand lots where we played baseball and football 50 years ago have been covered over by large sand dunes covered with Miriam grass.  The Indiana sand dunes are constantly shifting and moving.  The sand dune where we played football as kids has now moved south into an oak forest, burying large trees and everything else in its path.  It’s no coincidence that the always shifting sand dunes and constantly changing environment become the birthplace of the science of ecology.

Laue (above) noted that several strip clubs existed o Route 20 in Gary near and even within the boundaries of what became Indiana Dunes National Park. I recall a prominent attorney being killed when he stopped to turn left into Dante’s Inferno and his car being plowed into from behind.  Laue wrote:

   I still remember the excitement and anticipation of walking into Dante’s Inferno, as it was called back then.  The girls would hustle you for drinks between their turns on the dance floor, and if you had some decent cash in your pocket, you could invite one of them to join you in one of the booths way in the back of the lounge where they could titillate you and took more of your money.  This bar has gone through several makeovers and name changes. After Dante’s Inferno, it was renamed The Scuttlebutt.  Through all these name changes, the scene inside remains the same.  There’s always a big, tough-looking bouncer at the door to check your ID, and, depending on the time of day, the girls are inside walking around with vacant, cokehead stares, looking to sit down and hustle some drinks and money out of you.

John Laue asked me to write down memories of living in the disappearing community of Edgewater, now part of the Indiana Dunes National Park.  While renting a house in Miller, we looked for one to buy that would not be close to Lake Michigan, with a decent yard, and not badly in need of repair.  After a two-year search, realtor Gene Ayers showed us one in good shape just east of County Line Road at 9649 Maple Place in a wooded area just a few blocks from the lake with an adequate yard.  Voila!  I loved it and didn’t mind that the federal government intended to buy it and offer us a 20-year leaseback.  When that happened, we made enough of a profit that it paid the total cost of the leaseback, meaning we had a free house for 20 years, later extended.  We wouldn’t have any equity but were able to buy savings bonds for what we’d have been paying for rent. The previous owners, two former nuns, had hoped to convert the garage into living quarters for one of their fathers, but it hadn’t panned out.  After we moved in, one of them drove up Maple Place and parked at the bottom of the driveway several times but would quickly depart when we’d see if she wanted to look around.  We subsequently learned that she was miffed that we had gotten a better deal from the park department that she’d been offered. About ten years later, a daughter of the original owner stopped by and was delighted when we offered to let her come in.  Built after World War II, the house was her childhood home and she recalled Phil’s bedroom once being hers and watching Elvis on TV in the front room.

At the time we moved in, most Maple Place residents were moving out, having accepted the government’s offer to pay for them to purchase another house and moving expenses.  A neighbor across the street left many boxes of trash.  Scavenger that he was, Phil found Christmas tree bulbs and a Ku Klux Klan pin and robe.  In retrospect, I should have kept the pin for the Archives but told him to get rid of them. Neighbors in back of us had three boys, including a pot smoker who enjoyed lighting up and playing Rush albums at full volume outside while he washed his car.  For a year or so, Dean and Joanell lived next door; we became friends and even more so after they moved to a farm near Valpo where they raised goats and a bee colony. Down the street from us was a “mystery” cabin that appeared to be used by long distance truckers.

Although our yard was rather small, we played wiffleball even though if a righthander pulled the ball, it was liable to go over the hill into the ravine.  You really had to loft the ball to get it over the centerfield trees and then it was likely to go on the neighbors’ roof. We didn’t run the bases but designated what were singles, doubles, and home runs.  After the Bottorff property was returned to nature, the boys invented a wiffleball golf course with six different holes and three different places to tee off for each one.  In winter we sometimes went sledding on the access road.  Even though we had a Gary mailing address and phone number, being in Porter County reduced our insurance substantially and enabled Phil and Dave to attend Portage schools and play Little League baseball.  During snowstorms Portage street department took good care of us despise our remote location.  At Christmas and Easter Toni caked cakes that I took to street department headquarters.

Through John Laue, who lived two blocks down (toward the lake) from us, I got to know his dad Gib, a poet, and artist Dale Fleming, who had an intricate train platform in his house.  One of John’s neighbors was Joyce Davis, who came to own Lake Street gallery.  Our friend Sheila Hamanaka moved into a place formerly owned by a prominent Chicago conductor.  A friendly dog belonging to an attorney roamed the neighborhood and beyond, once venturing a mile into Miller and befriending Dave and Angie when they rented a house on Shelby and Lake Shore Drive.

Our Maple Place home had a fireplace room and plenty of wood outside that I could scavenge and chop or cut with a chain saw and a finished rec room where we played ping pong and often used as a guest room.  Upstairs were three bedrooms and a large family room; the only drawback was its distance from the kitchen, but a small fridge relieved the need for beer runs.  During the 35 years that we lived “on the hill,” we had as many as 15 people sleep over when relatives visited or after parties.  Our pets, especially Marvin the cat, loved being able to roam outside and learned to steer clear of raccoons and deer.  Whenever a feral cat came on our property, however, Marvin got in a fight to protect his turf, usually resulting in his needing to be taken to the vet, something he hated so much we had to cage him in order to get him in and out of the car.



Seeing my Facebook post, Dean Bottorff, who was an editor at the Post-Tribune, wrote:          I have many fond memories of Maple Place, Miller and working in Gary. Too often people think of Gary negatively in terms of crime and urban decay but I actually had some of the best times of my life there. I loved the diversity in Gary and Northwest Indiana and making friends with a broad range of different backgrounds. “Urban” people like you greatly contributed to the vast range of new experiences for this guy from the rural, Western state of South Dakota. Memories include everything from watching pierogi made by little old ladies at a Glen Park church to smelt fishing on the beach at 2 a.m. to riding my bicycle to work from Maple Place to 11th and Broadway.
    I prefer to remember the good times and some of the best might be considered dangerous ... like the time Knightly and I went into a blind pig on Washington Street at 2 am when a couple of pimps almost got into a gunfight. Or the time Galloway went on an interview and Tom and I posed as his body guards.

Trump seems incapable of holding a press conference without lying and demeaning reporters, first by insisting that anyone who wants a Covid-19 test can get one and then by insulting Weijia Jang.  West Virginian Ray Smock wrote:

    Trump stormed off the platform, ending the briefing suddenly, when CBS reporter Weijia Jiang asked a perfectly reasonable question about why the president keeps casting this pandemic as a global competition among nations. He shot back that she should ask China that question. She lowered her mask and asked why he was asking this of her. He replied that her question was nasty and ended the briefing. This is not the first time Trump has tangled with Jiang, a distinguished American journalist of Chinese ancestry who was raised in Wild and Wonderful West Virginia.

The latest Facebook fad is to post covers of one’s ten favorite albums a day at a time.  After former student and now friend George Sladic nominated me to participate, I began the daily ritual with this remark:

    OK, George Sladic, here's my favorite power pop album, "Present Tense" by The Shoes. Saw them at a small club near O'Hare Airport circa 1982 and a year ago at Memorial Opera House in Valpo.

Among my friends, albums by the Ramones, Tom Petty, and the Beatles have been popular choices, so I put off listing any of them for the moment. Here’s my day 2 choice and remarks:

I've been a Graham Parker fan ever since he recorded "Squeezing Out Sparks," featuring "Nobody Hurts You," "Passion Is No Ordinary Word," and "Don't Get Excited," with The Rumour in 1979. Toni and I saw Graham-bo at the Vic Theater in Chicago with Terry and Kin Hunt. He's also in the under-rated movie "This Is 40."

Inspired in part by the death of legendary rocker Little Richard, whose singles I collected in high school, Here is my day 3 choice and commentary:

    The first album I ever bought was "What'd I Say" by Ray Charles. In the 1950s I bought .45s by Rock and Rollers Chuck Berry, Fats Domino, Jerry Lee Lewis, Eddie Cochran, Little Richard, and others that I played on an inexpensive record player in my room. After hearing "What'd I Say" I wanted to listen to any Ray Charles song I could get my hands on, and my second album were songs recorded live in concert with his full band and the Raelettes. Awesome!

Stevie Kokos recalled what a thrill it was to have Ray Charles perform at the Holiday Star, where he worked for many years.  Connie Mack-Ward wrote that one of her first albums was “The Genius of Ray Charles” and she saw him perform live at one of Gary mayor Richard Hatcher’s “Evening to Remember” fundraisers.

 1973 was a great year for albums - "Band on the Run," "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, "Innervisions," "Dark Side of the Moon" - but I loved to rock out to the Doobie Brothers' "The Captain and Me," which leads off with "China Grove." In Paul Kern and my history of IU Northwest Milan Andrejevich recalled: "My parents took a lot of vacations, so I'd have parties. Lane loved to dance and was always trying to put on China Grove."

Milan and Marsha Andrejevich introduced me to David Bowie and several New Wave groups, including the Police and the Romantics. When I stayed with Terry and Gayle Jenkins in1980 while attending my twentieth high school reunion, I gave them the Romantics album that contains “What I Like about You,” and he three of us dance together. A couple years after the Romantics were out of fashion, I saw them in concert at Valparaiso in front of a few hundred people and they rocked out like they were playing for tens of thousands.

Ray Boomhower wrote about a little-known campaign to retake Alaska’s Aleutian Islands from the Japanese:

    On this day in 1943, men from the Seventh Infantry Division landed on Attu in the Aleutian Islands to wrest it from control from Japanese forces, who had taken Attu and Kiska as part of the Battle of Midway. American soldiers were hampered in their attempt to win back the treeless, volcanic island by inadequate clothing, perpetual pea-soup fog, icy rain, blinding snow, sudden gale-force winds (called williwaws), and boggy terrain. A sergeant remembered that while fighting in Attu’s mountainous terrain, conditions were so severe that, even when unconscious, wounded men’s bodies “trembled violently from the cold.”

    Time correspondent Robert L. Sherrod covered the Aleutian campaign, arriving on Attu on May 25. Attu was no “taxicab war,” said Sherrod. “The only way to get to the battle lines was to walk over mountains where a mile an hour was fair speed.
To keep warm, the reporters and cameramen on Attu dressed in one to three sets of underwear, a field jacket, parka, sweaters, woolen cap beneath their helmet, two or more pairs of woolen socks, shoepacs (special cold-weather footwear) or leather boots, and raincoats.”

    Uncomfortable conditions, to be sure, Sherrod said, but “looking at the suffering infantrymen and the supply carriers who had to take loads up steep mountains and the little carriers who had to bear the wounded down [from the mountains], we could not feel very put out.”

    Many of those fighting in the snow-covered mountain peaks became “so cold and miserable,” he said, “they didn’t give a damn whether they lived or died,” Sherrod reported. One soldier told Sherrod that he had been cold for so long he no longer believed “there is any warmth left in the world. I have not been able to wiggle my toes for more than ten days.”

Correspondents could honestly write in their dispatches, Sherrod noted, that not “since Valley Forge have American troops suffered so much” and finally mean it, and they could view their colleagues in London, Algiers, Melbourne, and even Moscow as “sissies.”

Early in World War II, Sherrod had wondered if American soldiers had what it took to win the war. He had been encouraged by what he witnessed from the soldiers on Attu. “In this primitive, man-against-man fighting enough of our men rose up to win,” he said.  Sherrod also learned a valuable lesson he remembered as he covered subsequent campaigns: “not all soldiers are heroes—far from it; the army that wins, other things being fairly equal, is the army which has enough men to rise above duty, thus inspiring others to do their duty.”

Beat

“You chose your words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood.
Cool junk booting madmen, street minded girls
in Harlem howling at night.
What a tear stained shock of the world,
you've gone away without saying goodbye.
         “Hey Jack Kerouac,” Ten Thousand Maniacs

1993 was an awesome year in music, with Flaming Lips, Smashing Pumpkins, Soul Asylum, Cracker, Pearl Jam, Goo Goo Dolls, and many more reinvigorating Rock and Roll.  There were great albums by Gin Blossoms, Nirvana, and Ten Thousand Maniacs, groups that would soon lose their leader through suicide or in the case of the Maniacs, Natalie Merchant going solo, claiming she didn’t want to be part of decision-making by committee. “Hey Jack Kerouac” has references to Beat writers Allen Ginsberg (“Howl”), a former a member of NAMBLA (North American Boy/Man Love Association) and William S. Burroughs (“Naked Lunch”) as well as his common law wife Mary, whom he shot in the head playing William Tell:

Allen baby, why so jaded?

Have the boys all grown up and their beauty faded?

Billy, what a saint they’ve made you

Just like Mary down in Mexico All Souls’ Day

 Horace Mann German Club, 1970; Milan Andrejevich front right

One of Milan Andrejevich’s Ivy Tech students Googled his name and found my mention of his Seventies History parties. From my blog Milan read of my visiting Fred Chary in a nursing home recuperating from an operation and wanted an update.  According to Diana, Fred is coming along nicely since I last saw him and would welcome a visit by his old student Milan. The 1971 Horace Mann grad is considering donating declassified documents to the Archives from when he worked for Radio Free Europe.  In that case I’d interview him about growing up in Gary and attending and later teaching at IUN.

South Bend photographer Kay Westhues (above), whom I met in Finland at the IOHA conference, sent me one of her photo-zines entitled “Drop Coins Slowly.”  It features awesome shots of old postage stamp vending machines she discovered in neighborhood taprooms, including three in Lake Station, that have been converted for the purpose of dispensing pull-tabs similar to lottery tickets that can be redeemed at the bar.  Westhues explained:

Pull-tab sales were legalized in 2008, in a move to help small taverns stay afloat during the recession.  Licenses were purchased and stamp machines resurfaced from the backroom or basement. Many of them were manufactured a half-century ago and showed significant signs of wear.  Sometimes they jammed easily or only had one ticket slot working. Modern, electronic pull-tab machines are also available, but people seem to prefer to take a chance on the malfunctioning, timeworn stamp machines.

Westhues photos at He Ain't Here Lounge and Ruthie's ("Small cans decorated with red, white and blue flag fabric and trimmed with lace held the losing tickets")

Accompanying the images are brief notes about Kay’s experiences at the various establishments.  After talking to a patron about stamp machines and her interest in artesian wells, the guy with unintentional irony said, “You must live a boring life.” At He Ain’t Here Lounge on Decatur St. in Lake Station, Westhues recalled that the owner’s son “wanted to hold my reflector umbrella to help with the photo, but began dancing and twirling it and forgot he had a job to do. A customer intervened and returned it to me.  As I left the bar, the son told me to forget about photographing stamp machines; I should interview the interesting people in the bar.”

On Sunday, despite 90 degree heat, I attended the final Miller Farmers Market of the season, which featured Tantrum playing a mixture of funk and punk with an occasional surprise thrown in, such as the Forties Duke Ellington classic “Don’t get Around Much Anymore,” covered by scores of artists ranging from The Ink Spots and Patti Page to The Coasters and Paul McCartney. When I put money in their tip jar, they told me to take a button.  Gene and Judy Ayers brought up Gary’s emergency school manager selling off a bust of Superintendent William A. Wirt.  Then I ran into Jack Weinberg and Valerie Denney, who want to donate more “treasures” to the Calumet Regional Archives.

After celebrating Angie’s dad John Teague’s birthday (number 68, and he still works in the mill) with a ham dinner and chocolate cake, I caught the end of the Little League World Series championship. Kids from Honolulu triumphed over South Korea.  It’s been a miserable week on Hawaii’s “Big Island” due to torrential rain from tropical storm Lane (I’ve taken kidding over the name), which caused major flooding and mud slides.  The Cubs completed a four-game sweep of the Reds, as Jason Heyward went 4 for 4. Players wore uniforms with nicknames on the back.  Heyward’s was “J-Hey.”  They are 6-0 in games Cole Hamels has started, and 6-0 since acquiring Daniel Murphy (“Murph”) on waivers. Dead from brain cancer is Senator John McCain, who requested that George W. Bush and Barack Obama speak at his memorial service.  The President was not invited. IUN flags are at half-staff.

High school classmate Dave Semibold (above) and wife Nicki are in Tanzania having a ball camping in the Serengeti.  Usually his posts are the result of fishing trips.  One reason I suggested naming our second son Dave because Seibold was such a cool dude.

IU’s “200: The Bicentennial Magazine” featured articles about team mascots, including Steve McShane’s contribution tracing IUN’s mascots from the Chiefs and the Blast to the present Redhawks.  Bloomington’s Hoosier teams have no symbolic figures, but, according to archivist Dina Kellams, former mascots included a racoon, various dogs, a bison and a red-bearded man wearing a cowboy hat called “Mr. Hoosier Pride” dropped after a single season due to complaints that he was offensive and ridiculous.

 Jackson kids at RailCats game in 2015

A three-day Michael Jackson birthday celebration commenced at IUN with four hours of music videos followed by a two-hour symposium presented by The Committee to Honor the Jackson family.  Watching people in Bergland Auditorium audience dancing in their seats as Michael strutted his stuff to “Smooth Criminal,” one realized what a unique talent he was and how much he is missed.

The category for “Final Jeopardy” in the high school teachers tournament was U.S. Cities, and nobody knew which one was named for a nineteenth century businessman in transportation, even though the clue mentioned that it is also the name of an Oscar-winning film. Answer: Fargo, North Dakota, named for William G. Fargo, one of the founders of the western portion of the Pony Express and a Northern Pacific Railroad director.

 Katlyn and Tyler

In addition to juggling work and school, Katlyn O’Connor had to deal with getting wisdom teeth pulled and boyfriend issues. No wonder she was frequently beat, as her “Ides of March” 2017 journal revealed:

  January 10:I absolutely love my daycare job and the kids in pre-kindergarten but am only making a little over minimum wage and need to start applying for other jobs. I also have to figure out if I want to go skydiving with my friend for her birthday. I am scared out of my mind just thinking about jumping out of a plane. 

  January 12:I applied to a few nursing homes as a part-time CNA. I have my license in that field and the increased pay should help pay bills. Tyler, my boyfriend of almost five years, decided we need a date night. I am so excited.  I’ll pretend none of this stress exists - just me and him and a good steak.

  January 15:I asked my boss for a raise due to another job offer and threatened to put in my two-week notice. It worked. I got the raise I wanted so I can stay at the daycare. I was so scared I was going to have to leave and then be miserable at the new job. 

 January 18:Today is probably the worst day of my life.  After we got into an argument, Tyler decided we need to take a break because we are falling out of love. I want to talk things through rather than throw away a five-year relationship. We were talking about getting married. My best friend Megan is coming over to comfort me but I don’t think anything she says will help me feel better. 

 February 1:Today was my first day of field experience in an elementary school. I always thought I wanted to teach Kindergarten, but now that I have been in third grade, I actually love it. Tyler and I have been talking every day and concluded that we need to try to fall back in love because we have been in the same boring routine for years now. We’ll start by having a date night once a week. 

 Feb. 3:Megan and I went out for wine night. She had never drunk wine and let me drive her Jeep home so she could puke out of the window. I decided we should stop at another bar on the way home and we ended up staying out until four a.m. She had to work the next day and doubt  she’ll make it. 

 Feb. 14:My IUN teacher cancelled class so I got to hand out Valentines to kids at the daycare.  They ate so much candy, I feel bad for their parents because they are on a sugar high.  Tyler surprised me by taking us to Outback Steakhouse for dinner. Even though we called ahead, there was an hour and a half wait. By agreeing to sit in the bar area, we did not wait very long. We bonded like we haven’t done in what seems like ages. 

  Feb. 24:Whirly ball is similar to bumper cars with lacrosse thrown in. I am going with Tyler and his family to celebrate his brother’s birthday. Ten people are on the court, five on each team. You have to drive your car across the court to shoot a wiffleball into the square net on the back board. Meanwhile, people are slamming into you and blocking you from shooting. After Whirly ball, we went to his aunt’s for pizza and left-over wings from Whirly ball. 

  March 1:I always come so close to getting straight A’s but fear I will not make it this semester. I am behind on a paper and have no earthly clue what is happening in my science book. I found out I have an extra set of wisdom teeth in my mouth that need to be removed. I scheduled the earliest appointment they had available, March 31. I hope this month goes by quickly because I am in so much pain. 

 March 7:After science class  Megan and I had margaritas at Chili’s plus chips and salsa. My strawberry margarita had a large amount of tequila in it.

 March 12:Tyler took me Olive Garden, my favorite, but we always get awful service there.

  March 14:I am planning on going to Las Vegas in two months with friends for my birthday for a full week. I am so excited. I want warm weather so bad.  Tyler and I are doing much better and I feel more in love with him than I ever have been. We have been spending more time together and enjoying each other’s company. Each week we go bowling at an alley in Griffith called Set Em Up.  It is really cheap because you keep your own scores. I am starting to catch on but Tyler still keeps track because we are very competitive. 

  March 15:Since the start of spring break, I have been working 11 hours a day.  We have been low on staff; they let too many people have days off so. My mom decided we need to start spending more time together and that I work too much. She didn’t go to college and does not understand how hard it is to manage 18 credit hours a semester. 

 March 16:Megan, Ariana, and I  went to our local bar to play pool and Friday night Bingo for free drinks. The night got cut short because my sister came to stay the night at my house with her six-year-old daughter. I did a lot of listening and wiping a lot of tears. She was with her boyfriend for ten years but he has been an alcoholic for the past four. 

  March 17:My sister and I took an early train to Chicago for the St. Patrick’s Day parade. There were police and ambulances everywhere; people were being put on stretchers and taken away because they got too drunk and fell over. There were beer bottles and trash everywhere in the beer garden;  this whole area was trashed. I had my sister by the arm and we started to walk through the crowd almost getting hit by bottles of vodka and Jameson every few steps. There was puke everywhere. A guy ran right into me slamming his bottle into my arm which hurt very bad and later bruised. He was too drunk to stand up straight. The parade was great but two hours long. 

  March 18:Tyler and I enjoyed a pajama day and watched TV.  I finally stopped feeling hungover and decided we should eat chicken and watch “Batman vs Superman: The Dawn of Justice.” It was three hours long but a great story.

  March 19:A new girl at work got fired because she never submitted her background check and finger prints. It turned out she had a warrant out for her arrest in Lake county due to theft. As a result, I had to work in the toddler class, mainly one-year-olds. I do not like it and can’t wait for them to switch the schedule.

  March 23:For parent art night we planned to make bunnies and chicks for the upcoming holiday, but nobody signed up. Tonight is Tyler and my five-year anniversary, but he has to work late. I am super tired anyway and just want to sleep. 

  March 24:My Saturday ritual is go to Sophia’s house of pancakes in Highland and then to Target and leave with more items than I intended to purchase. 

  March 25:I have been driving a Chevy Cruze, which I love but it is not that great in the snow being very low to the ground. Both my parents owned trucks and Jeeps, and I am used to taller vehicles.  A car dealer offered me a great deal, so goodbye old car and hello 2018 black Jeep Wrangler. It had zero miles on it when I left the lot and I am so excited!

 March 28:I was in such a rush this morning I backed my Jeep into my mother’s car. As soon as I heard the crunch I freaked out . Her front end was scrunched in and I began crying. Last night, my mom and I got into a huge fight and I had planned on packing up my things and staying somewhere else for a while. I told her what had happened and she started screaming and told me to leave so I went to work. 

  March 29:Tyler and I should be closing on a house in about a month. I am so excited. It has five bedrooms and two bathrooms and a fenced in yard with a pool. I cannot wait to get everything closed and move in. It was his parents’ but they are moving to Indianapolis. 

  March 30:Surgery day on my wisdom teeth. I I was nervous about the iv because of problems my mom had, but it went in my arm right away.  The procedure was done before I knew it but I was very swollen and in a lot of pain. I am going to rest for the rest of the day. 

 March 31:Swelling has gone down, and I am starting to feel a little better. Tomorrow is Easter, but I can barely eat a slushy with a spoon and could not handle lemon soup, my favorite.  I feel like my jaw has been smashed. 

 April 1:I hid Easter eggs before my niece showed up. Since today is also April Fools’ Day, I hid the golden egg in my bedroom. She found all the others and started freaking out until I got the golden egg. She is still mad because she does not understand what April Fools’ Day is. I ate a little piece of ham and mashed potatoes. 

  April 2:Back at work today, it is not yet 9 a.m. and I am in excruciating pain. My boss promised to do her best to let me go home early. I had Jell-O cups against my cheeks until noon, when the boss let me go home. Nothing helped, not the medicine nor ice packs. I couldn’t sleep all night until I took Advil and conked out for an hour. 

 April 3:At the dentist’s I got hooked up to an iv. After 90 minutes the dentist could finally get my mouth to open wide enough to look inside. It was definitely infected. He prescribed an antibiotic and sent me home to rest. 

  April 4:The swelling has finally gone down and the medicine is helping relieve the pain.  I made it for my whole shift at work but skipped class. I emailed my teacher who was understanding. 

 April 9:I have started eating solid foods and can brush my teeth for the most part. It is April but snowing outside!  Tyler called asking if his keys were in my car. Of course, darn it, and I had to drive home to give him his keys. My boss was not pleased but got over it.  

 April 14:I have finished my big assignments for the semester and am starting to stress free. My mouth is now officially healed and the pain gone. We move into our house on May 2.  Life is looking up.

Juggling Acts

“Most of us have trouble juggling.  The woman who says she doesn’t is someone I admire but have never met.” Barbara Walters

The earliest historical record of juggling goes back 4,000 years to a panel found in an Egyptian tomb thought to have religious significance, with the round objects possibly signifying solar objects. In ancient China a military leader, according to legend, used his juggling prowess to overawe enemy troops. Juggling acts became staples in circuses and a way of entertaining audiences between acts during vaudeville shows. Common props are balls, rings, and clubs, as well as more dangerous objects such as swords, flaming torches, and even chainsaws.  The records for most soccer balls juggled simultaneously is five, first achieved by Argentinean Victor Rubilar in 2006.

 Monica and Edgar in Mexico

In the spring of 2018 a pregnant Monica Verduzco juggled work, school, and family obligations while struggling with serious health issues.   She wrote:

January 29, 2018:I have been going back and forth and finally decided to have a first birthday party for Joaquin. I’ll rent the Riverview Park cabin in Lake Station.  It is inexpensive and hopefully big enough for our families. I gave my sister-in-law Maggie $150 for the deposit. She lives in Lake Station and I’m in New Chicago, which has a Hobart mailing address and pays Lake Station for water, sewer, trash, and police service; but somehow I don’t qualify as a resident.  I had a doctor appointment. My fiancé Edgar was able to go with me to see the ultrasound. I am 29 weeks pregnant and, oh, so high risk since I’ll turn 40 in March. This is my second child; it’s a girl. We haven’t decided on a name yet. 

January 30:Last fall I went back to school to become a history teacher. I am in UTEP (Urban Teacher Education Program) working towards a Master’s Degree in Secondary Education. There is a shortage of teachers in Indiana. I can only assume it’s because of the crappy pay and hostile environments of recent years.

February 5:Oh my goodness, so much homework, I feel like I may have to drop a class.  My boss scheduled me to work 45 hours for the next three weeks. This means it will be 50 because I never get out on time. I also do taxes for friends. I didn’t like to charge, but most insist on paying something, such as a case of Modelo beer or diapers. 

February 12:It’s my miracle child’s first birthday. Unfortunately, I have so much stuff going on that we aren’t going to celebrate until his party. I have 2 more taxes to get done this week. Edgar is laid off, and so is his uncle. They are fence erectors and probably won’t get work until April. 

February 14:Valentine’s Day is nothing special because I am so stinking busy. My boss has been gone and left us understaffed and without a proper schedule. I’ve even been asked to work two Sundays. 

February 19:At an appointment with the high risk doctor, everything went well. Even so, my thyroid is overactive, and the medication that I take is basically poison. It could cause low birth weight and a lot of growth issues for the baby. Edgar asked the nurse if there was still a possibility that it was a boy. The nurse reacted like he’s crazy. All I could do is shake my head; even the genetic test came back as a girl. Edgar is still hopeful that they are wrong. He is nervous about having a girl, I think; it’s funny how much he is over-reacting. 

February 24:At Sam’s Club we spent $200 on stuff for the baby’s birthday party on March 11, the first weekend day available, and we have a lot more to go. I did save a bunch of money by ordering a super cute Mickey Mouse cake and 28 cupcakes for $30. 

February 27:Edgar and I have talked about just going to the Justice of the Peace and getting married on my spring break before the baby is born. It makes me want to cry every time I have to tell someone my last name and then my son’s and they aren’t the same. The most important reason is that I almost died giving birth to Joaquin.  The nurses all talked about how scared the doctor was and how he stayed with me in recovery until I woke up, something he virtually never does. I am so worried about this delivery. I need to make sure that my family is taken care of. Everything that Edgar and I own is in my name. I have way better credit than Edgar and I have worked at the same place for 24 years. I have also owned my home for ten years. We have three vehicles and two are paid off. If anything happens to me,  he can sell them.  I need to make sure that he has a legal right to everything.  I have a friend who is an ordained minister and I might see if she’d marry us at Joaquin’s birthday party as long as Edgar is down for it. 

March 2:   Edgar liked the idea of one of my BFF’s marrying us. As long as we can get our license and his ring, we’ll do it at the birthday party. We ordered the ring and they said it should be here by in time. 

March 5:After my doctor appointments Edgar, Joaquin, and I went to Lake County Government Center for a marriage license. Edgar was super frustrated because we went into the wrong building three times.  He is really impatient. I feared he was going to leave, but he followed through. We haven’t told many people that we are getting hitched. We have been living as if married for almost seven years. We both come from Mexican backgrounds and our families are super Catholic, so they probably won’t think this is good enough since it wasn’t through the church.

March 10:I took today off. I usually work Saturdays but need to get everything done for the birthday party. Edgar’s ring came. We picked it up and went to Sam’s Club for last-minute items and to pick up Joaquin’s cake. At home I made pasta salad, broccoli salad, and a few desserts. The weather forecast is for tomorrow to be sunny and in the forties but snow in the evening. By then hopefully everyone will be home tucked in their beds. 

March 11:Everything turned out great. The decorations looked awesome, the food was great, and about 120 people came. The seating was a little tight, but we managed. Most of the kids played outside, so that gave us additional room. Amanda, my ordained minister friend, was pretty nervous with the size of the crowd.  Edgar and I were, too. I checked over the vows that Amanda printed off the internet and cut several paragraphs, telling her short and sweet was better. Then the three of us walked to the front, I grabbed the microphone from the DJ (because what first birthday party doesn’t have a DJ), and made the announcement. There were a few unexpected gasps and cheers from the crowd. Then we exchanged vows. Amanda was shaking so bad that it calmed us down. The whole thing lasted 3 minutes and 45 seconds.

Joaquin cried almost the whole afternoon except when he napped and when Edgar was holding him. He wouldn’t eat his smash cake or open his presents. Thank god, Edgar is an amazing father and now husband.  If everyone knew my story, how hard it was to get pregnant, stay pregnant and then stay alive during and after the delivery, I think they would understand why he is so pampered. 

March 12:It’s my birthday. I will say I am in such a better place in my life at 40 than I was at 30. I slept in and am in a lot of pain from yesterday.  My birthday present is that Edgar went back to work. I am excited because we need to keep saving for my upcoming maternity leave. Edgar, Joaquin, and I will go out for dinner. No big deal.  I have to take a three-hour glucose test tomorrow and need to fast for 12 hours, so I won’t be able to eat anything after 7 pm. I also need to watch my sugar intake, so no cake for me. 

March 13:After the torture of the glucose test at St. Anthony’s in Crown Point was over, I ate a footlong Firehouse sub. It was delicious. 

March 15:  I worked an 11-hour shift. My body is killing me. At least I am on Spring Break and don’t have class. I work across the street from the Key West Inn. Today they pulled another body from the motel. This time it was a murder, a woman with a daughter from Wheatfield who’d been missing. 

March 16: On my way to work I had to pass the motel.  A bloody mattress had been thrown in the dumpster for the whole world to see.  How horrific that they would do this. It is disgusting. I pray that none of her family pass by and see this. The place should be shut down. 

March 17:It is St Patrick’s Day, and I would love a nice cold green beer or just a regular beer for that matter. Being pregnant, I can’t have one for a few more months. I did make corned beef, cabbage, potatoes, and carrots for dinner. There were no leftovers, so I would say it was a hit. I am half Mexican and half Irish, two red hot combinations. I have a really bad temper, by the way. 

April 2:Joaquin was really, really bad.  Edgar has him so spoiled. He only wanted to go with him. That annoyed Edgar, who wanted to leave my sister’s house earlier than normal.  My health issues and all the expenses for medications are seriously stressing me out. 

April 21:My family threw Edgar and me a surprise shower for Mila, our baby girl. We finally decided on a name. Everything was perfect. I was really surprised and almost cried. Lina, my cousin and sister-in-law (she is married to my husband’s brother), coordinated everything. She thought out every detail and even bought me a dress in case I showed up in jeans and a hoodie. 

April 22:After I worked on homework, we went to my nephew’s soccer game. I wore a sun dress and flip flops, not a good idea. I froze my butt off. Joaquin slept almost the entire time. Joaquin loves soccer. He kicks the ball around with assistance, since he is such a chicken to walk on his own. We then went to El Capitan in downtown Hobart to get something to eat after the game.  I am due a month from today and hope I make it that long. This way I’ll get more time off in August when the weather is nice. I was a week late with Joaquin; he just didn’t want to come out. Maybe Mila will be late. I am really nervous.  My doctor is insistent that I try for a vaginal delivery instead of the C-section. I just have this sickening feeling that something is going to happen and I might die, leaving Edgar a widow with two children under the age of two. Edgar would go crazy parenting alone and I pray that he doesn’t have to. Hopefully, I am paranoid. 

 Mila

Perhaps due in part to heavy rain, we just had three tables at bridge.  The hand I wish I had bid differently began with the person on my left opening one Heart.  Joel, my partner, bid 2 Clubs and the person to my right bid 2 Spades.  I held six Diamonds to the Ace-ten and 3 Clubs to the King.  After much hesitation, I bid 3 Diamonds and everyone passed.  Joel had a singleton Diamond King, which wouldn’t have been too bad except I encountered a 5-1 split and went down 2.  Had I bid Clubs, we would have made the contract.  My reasoning was that since I had a singleton Spade, the six Diamonds would be more valuable, but I should have supported Joel’s Clubs.

 James A. Haught

Helen Booth will be attending her seventieth high school reunion in West Virginia, saying that she attended a Catholic school although not religious.  Her brother-in-law, James A. Haught, is the author of many books, including: “2000 Years of Disbelief: Famous People with the Courage to Doubt” (1996); “Holy Horrors: An Illustrated History of Religious Murder and Madness” (2002); “Fading Faith: The Rise of the Secular Age” (2010); and a memoir “Fascinating West Virginia: Wild, Memorable Episodes from the Longtime Editor of the Mountain State’s Largest Newspaper, The Charleston Gazette.” (2011).  Amazon.com included this biography:

  James A. Haught was born in 1932 in a small West Virginia farm town that had no electricity or paved streets. He graduated from a rural high school with 13 students in the senior class. He came to Charleston, worked as a delivery boy, then became a teen-age apprentice printer at the Charleston Daily Mailin 1951. Developing a yen to be a reporter, he volunteered to work without pay in the Daily Mailnewsroom on his days off, to learn the trade. This arrangement continued several months, until The Charleston Gazette offered a full-time news job in 1953. He has been at the Gazetteever since - except for a few months in 1959 when he was press aide to Sen. Robert Byrd.
    During his six decades in newspaper life, he has been police reporter, religion columnist, feature writer and night city editor. Then he was investigative reporter for 13 years, and his work led to several corruption convictions. In 1983 he was named associate editor, and in 1992 he became editor. He writes 400 Gazette editorials a year, plus occasional personal columns and news articles.
    Haught has four children, 12 grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren.For years he enjoyed hiking with a trail club, participating in a philosophy group, and taking grandchildren sailing off his old sailboat. He is a Democrat and longtime Unitarian Universalist.

Chancellor Lowe claimed he was spending more time than intended reading Paul Kern and my history of IUN, “Educating the Calumet Region.”  I told him I had spoken about it at an oral history conference and that the moderator got a kick out of descriptions of IUN’s History department during the 1970s when, to quote David Malham, the professors were a bunch of “Young Turks.”  Paul Kern recalled: “Faculty parties usually involved students and weren’t tea parties.The cultural milieu was more beer and Rock ‘n’ Roll than tea and classical music. It was more a case of the Sixties generation setting the tone.  Nobody would have dreamed of wearing a coat and tie to a history party. It was more casual than it might have been a few years before.” Interviewed by Andrew Bodinet, 1971 Horace Mann grad Milan Andrejevich, recalled a party where I blew a speaker playing a Rolling Stones album at such high volume.  At Tom Pancini and Al Sterken’s place on 35^thAvenue in Glen park we wore out Pink Floyd’s album “Dark Side of the Moon.”   

I didn’t tell Lowe the title of my Oral History Association talk: “The Professor Wore a Cowboy Hat (And Nothing Else): Ethical Issues in Handling Matters of Sex in Institutional Oral Histories: IU Northwest as a Case Study.”   During the 1970s, faculty on average were much younger than today, and both the sexual revolution and the feminist movement were in full swing. Divorce was rampant.  Though regretful that she went straight from living at home to marriage and family obligations, thankfully, Toni stuck with me during those hazardous times.  Not so, four of my colleagues, who ended up remarrying students, although in most cases the women initiated the relationship.  My thoughts were often on preparing for class, writing scholarly articles, and doing what I deemed necessary to get tenure rather thinking about Toni’s needs.  We had just one car, hard to imagine, which often left her stranded at home.  I found time to play sports in the back yard with Phil and Dave but not always quality time with her.  Meanwhile, she was juggling various responsibilities while taking Fine Arts classes at IUN.

Joe Glowacki; Times photo by David P. Funk

Joe Glowacki, 29, won two gold medals in bowling at the Special Olympics in Seattle.  He has a 135 average but rolled a high game of 171. For seven years, he has been working at LARC (Learning Assistance Resource Center, serving people with developmental disabilities), folding and gluing boxes for BMW.  Joe once bowled a 201 and also swims and runs relays.

At lunch Mike Olszanski filled me in on the memorial service for union leader Eddie Sadlowski, evidently a three-hour affair at a former union hall converted into a church.  Roberta Wood, active in the Women’s Caucus when Eddie was district director, gave an eloquent speech.  We reminisced about “Old lefties” active in the rank-and-file steelworkers movement and the anti-nuke Bailly Alliance.  Oz Googled Joe Franz’s name and discovered he’d died after hitting his head while working out at a gym.  His wife had been married to a rather dour IUN Sociology professor until she became enamored with Joe during the Bailly fight.  In Steel Shavings (volume 16, 1987) Chicagoan Ed Gogal recalled first meeting Franz: 

  In 1977 a group us “no-nukers” came out to Indiana and met Herb Read and Ed Osann, who took us on a trek through the proposed nuclear plant site.  We trespassed on NIPSCO’s land, and Herb showed us how NIPSCO was ruining Cowles Bog. We wanted to get one demonstration under our belt before the weather got too cold.  We held a rally in a Chesterton park, and then people paraded to the NIPSCO offices and put a wreath, to symbolize the death and destruction from nuclear power, on the door there.

  That winter we started saying, “This is crazy.  We have a lot of nuclear plants in Illinois that have to be fought.”So we started calling ourselves the Bailly Alliance-Illinois..  But we kept meeting labor leaders, such as Mike Olszanski and Joe Franz, at our literature table.  They’d say, “We really support what you are doing, but we’re too busy trying to get the coke ovens cleaned up, we don’t have the time to get involved.”  Then a few months later, they jumped in with both feet and that’s really when the Bailly thing took off.

Toni and grandson James at Grand Valley State, August 2018