tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3865911127532938962024-03-17T16:37:16.460-04:00Through the HourglassPast and presentClaudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.comBlogger213125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-2782450186369936642024-03-06T06:57:00.001-05:002024-03-06T06:59:45.108-05:00The Widow Nolen at Harvard<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJX0QWopXpd0lVOkX1OTOcXMt5sjGvzCDwb8YL_p_K3Oq0z6VsHPMHEVpaqMsWRKZjn5FJp1VevnfHk9-Y9BVakiBkx343CXwBzAU24BGKVNS_pcKyGge6v5WXhU_D72p6gFTf8CSdxFVjS8LwZxSfzjg_Zx2huW4kOGFMtMUGFSL4HD05-SZMJSqQp-2/s589/Harvard%20celebrities%201903.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="589" data-original-width="436" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJX0QWopXpd0lVOkX1OTOcXMt5sjGvzCDwb8YL_p_K3Oq0z6VsHPMHEVpaqMsWRKZjn5FJp1VevnfHk9-Y9BVakiBkx343CXwBzAU24BGKVNS_pcKyGge6v5WXhU_D72p6gFTf8CSdxFVjS8LwZxSfzjg_Zx2huW4kOGFMtMUGFSL4HD05-SZMJSqQp-2/w296-h400/Harvard%20celebrities%201903.jpg" width="296" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Illustration from <i>Harvard Celebrities </i>(1901)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><b><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><br /><br /></span></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">William Whiting Nolen orbited Harvard for the
better part of 43 years. During much of that time, he annoyed the hell out of the
faculty and administrators. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The native Philadelphian arrived at Harvard
College in 1880, graduated <i>summa cum laude, </i>and went on to earn a
master’s in science. Next, he enrolled in the law school but soon dropped out. He landed
in the biology department as a teaching assistant.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">W. W. Nolen hoped to become a professor but
was not up to snuff. Yet he did have a gift for coaching students. In 1891, he
opened a school on Brattle Street, offering “printed lecture notes, digests of
required reading, and forced feeding just before the examinations,” wrote the eminent
Harvard historian Bernard Bailyn.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The school thrived. By 1895, Nolen had moved
to larger quarters and hired top Harvard graduates to help handle the load. His program could
get you through your entrance exams and help you pass (perhaps ace) Latin,
history, chemistry, physics, mathematics, French, English, and philosophy.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">In July 1913, former President Theodore
Roosevelt wrote to Nolen about his third son, Archie:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Naturally Mrs. Roosevelt and I are immensely pleased with
Archie’s success. I take pleasure in sending the check – there could be no
money I should be more delighted to pay. I feel that he has benefitted
immensely by what you have done for him, and I am very much pleased with what
you say of him personally.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: georgia;">As tutees flocked to Nolen’s “cram parlor,”
its proprietor raised his rates to $5/hour. “Harvard Men Attending in
Hundreds,” declared the Boston Globe</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">:</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">. . . what Harvard student ever failed to attend a Nolen
“seminar” at least once? It is part of the Cambridge experience. Students
attend who need it. Others attend who don’t need it. To attend is one of the
set college duties. It is the proper thing to do, so to speak.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">Nolen’s school was neither affiliated with
nor authorized by Harvard. Yet Nolen managed to insinuate himself into the
college, poaching exams, infiltrating lectures in disguise, paying for class
notes. He also sold pamphlets: <i>History I: Tutoring Notes, 1901</i>; <i>Self-Tutoring
Notes, English 23, 1902</i>, and so forth. </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMpt9B1f6k30OFbOUWUBwxPrO3NH322W5gfWE9qbVs8VccdJuDUFarI7o5WkeKIaQgikss6kg9pcKqviYj0KTYfKzWVQBSaA2NSsmVmqqPBh8rsh0AIlD3CAxkVJJJBbMgldruv0bInjgUOFxcNZeJtpQuoUr9XAi2Pbb4I4QGPOGXPak8MFJt0yQyr7-T/s1600/Harvard%201895.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="1600" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMpt9B1f6k30OFbOUWUBwxPrO3NH322W5gfWE9qbVs8VccdJuDUFarI7o5WkeKIaQgikss6kg9pcKqviYj0KTYfKzWVQBSaA2NSsmVmqqPBh8rsh0AIlD3CAxkVJJJBbMgldruv0bInjgUOFxcNZeJtpQuoUr9XAi2Pbb4I4QGPOGXPak8MFJt0yQyr7-T/w400-h259/Harvard%201895.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">1895</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Harvard professors decried his effect on
their students’ grades. They called him a bloodsucker. It was said that the
faculty often discussed how to put Nolen out of business.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Yet while the university’s presidents and
trustees loathed his very presence, they recognized that Nolen steered the sons
of great wealth through Harvard. Those diplomas, perhaps earned craftily, would
be worth their weight in bequests.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">By most accounts, Nolen was kind, generous,
and eccentric. He also bore an odd nickname. Even those who did not know him personally
could recognize it: “The Widow Nolen.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Where did the nickname originate? The
prevailing theory was that a character named “Widow Nolen” appeared in a play
attended by several of his earliest students, and they took it up.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">Teased in the pages of the <i>Crimson</i>,
the <i>Lampoon</i>,<i> </i>and yearbooks, parodied in songs and theater, the “Widow
Nolen” seeped into Ivy League culture. Even the poets pounced on him. </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ15qCBtABWM6ufKof6J0mbCBrgU_vDWBubQmf8Zo2S1hezXXhXWhlEDHj9k_eCygSzL9aUJFj4fcJfVTTRqDzttxazac3NIq6HanMH3Rt9SlsJa0x8kau0cfMYEaPD5ygxZVUKPXL9AsmGsYMvV_8qBInK2dMXbu_FMcuk9bAPlNcG3pA-NUOAST01ze5/s830/widow-text.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="830" data-original-width="700" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ15qCBtABWM6ufKof6J0mbCBrgU_vDWBubQmf8Zo2S1hezXXhXWhlEDHj9k_eCygSzL9aUJFj4fcJfVTTRqDzttxazac3NIq6HanMH3Rt9SlsJa0x8kau0cfMYEaPD5ygxZVUKPXL9AsmGsYMvV_8qBInK2dMXbu_FMcuk9bAPlNcG3pA-NUOAST01ze5/w338-h400/widow-text.jpg" width="338" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium; text-align: left;">Poem by Henry Ware Eliot, Jr. [brother of T.S. Eliot] in <br /><i>Harvard Celebrities: a book of caricatures and decorated drawings <br /></i>(Cambridge, 1901). </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The tutoring business was lucrative, yet the
Widow Nolen lived modestly in a building called Little Hall, opposite Harvard
Yard. He inhabited the top floor with three French bulldogs.
Students could rent rooms below, and classrooms filled the first floor.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">In 1923, Nolen, who had diabetes and
a heart condition, died at the age of 63. Even before the will was probated,
the question arose: would Nolen’s tutoring school continue at Little Hall?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The answer was no. Rather, a new school, Manter Hall, absorbed Nolen's business and carried on the glory. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Indeed, in the absence of Nolen’s monopoly, five
new tutoring schools sprung up in Cambridge. In 1936, the Harvard
Student Council appointed a committee to study their “sharp, noisy
competition” as they jockeyed for customers, according to <i>Time</i> magazine. Nothing came of it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Three years later the <i>Crimson </i>published an angry editorial: “Lined up on Massachusetts Avenue, grinning obscenely down
over Harvard Yard, there is a row of intellectual brothels <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>. . . making a mockery of a Harvard education,
a lie of a Harvard diploma.” </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">By that time, nine tutoring schools
inhabited Harvard Square. The <i>Crimson </i>refused to take their advertising
and called for their demise.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">In 1940, the crammeries were shut
down for good.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyD7Zgt9ch8OYGXg_oE9E7smgI-C8w51x2dqGUxgcfZVTRZ_HV2UCY3aam9KYUYIit7FTpFJoH4MlG2FqhlqEC99uEogCDE33UnyDbEDNtg_QzIt94fNtVSxFXvyTndyXBr_i-7UIeuuxZYFK4zCGIePvR0Q2FnBQv1hrm7VtxcdNlS0ko5vnNRPhWVf9V/s640/You%20are%20old%20Widow%20Nolen.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyD7Zgt9ch8OYGXg_oE9E7smgI-C8w51x2dqGUxgcfZVTRZ_HV2UCY3aam9KYUYIit7FTpFJoH4MlG2FqhlqEC99uEogCDE33UnyDbEDNtg_QzIt94fNtVSxFXvyTndyXBr_i-7UIeuuxZYFK4zCGIePvR0Q2FnBQv1hrm7VtxcdNlS0ko5vnNRPhWVf9V/w480-h640/You%20are%20old%20Widow%20Nolen.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">From <i>Alice's Adventures in Cambridge</i><br />by Richard Conover Evarts (1913)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 8pt;">TO BE CONTINUED.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 8pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 8pt;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></a></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-20390712624311232962024-01-17T07:43:00.001-05:002024-01-24T16:20:31.857-05:00“Bab” Andrews & the Strikebreakers<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie3M7krWDfvgRIMs2pM20L4neuJ-n2Qov8Lm41Nog652QDsUwFelbQWYh0n9b9XDZc23PSYnnuG4NzVhws9zSowDhg0hd5P4-IKlb4I7nDT7wEHHsNAL3xsU8EC0XVJfRAqHblFVi9HtMeLGvPJbs0nXSWXVDIiUy3_D4LbKR5sv_U3ia6mr6MBxPCen95/s640/Strikebreakers6.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="378" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie3M7krWDfvgRIMs2pM20L4neuJ-n2Qov8Lm41Nog652QDsUwFelbQWYh0n9b9XDZc23PSYnnuG4NzVhws9zSowDhg0hd5P4-IKlb4I7nDT7wEHHsNAL3xsU8EC0XVJfRAqHblFVi9HtMeLGvPJbs0nXSWXVDIiUy3_D4LbKR5sv_U3ia6mr6MBxPCen95/w378-h640/Strikebreakers6.jpg" width="378" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">"University Athletes Ship as Stokers"</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">It sounded like a great
adventure, one that would yield $30 per man and a bounty of stories to tell. The
seven University of Chicago freshmen were already on the top of the world
because they played for Amos Alonzo Stagg, one of the twentieth century’s most
winning college coaches.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">These guys were hot stuff:
fullback Sherburne Wightman, quarter-miler “Tommy” Taylor, high jumper Arthur
Sullivan, tackle Frank G. Burrows, shot-putter Burt Gale, and track star
“Jimmy” Carroll.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And the group’s leader, freshman
class president Barrett Clendenin “Bab” Andrews, told reporters that Stagg had
recruited him for the baseball team.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Founded in 1892 with a $600,000
gift from the oilman John D. Rockefeller, the University of Chicago was young
compared with the nation’s major research universities.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Rockefeller, who would
donate $35 million more to Chicago during the next decade, chose as its
president William Rainey Harper, a rotund 36-year old Semitology scholar and
Baptist minister who had taught previously at Denison and Yale.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS1R27kp1j2n0ZgPkbXasb0Q-OEsNBC2nNfSRxzRMaLvX9AH_y1N_MO2jY_ReuAMrZmlNe5bYUFa019TrCLBq8DxBoSoqA5kQWJOwpSVHbA46qYrzgqoRPHWwBcK737mgFTDHISHUuImViNKBNM2ZO7Q33YCQ3Mi5vlEeo9nkvtxRk6chk7tp6TFOJGbcq/s323/Strikebreakers2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="323" data-original-width="251" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS1R27kp1j2n0ZgPkbXasb0Q-OEsNBC2nNfSRxzRMaLvX9AH_y1N_MO2jY_ReuAMrZmlNe5bYUFa019TrCLBq8DxBoSoqA5kQWJOwpSVHbA46qYrzgqoRPHWwBcK737mgFTDHISHUuImViNKBNM2ZO7Q33YCQ3Mi5vlEeo9nkvtxRk6chk7tp6TFOJGbcq/s320/Strikebreakers2.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Rockefeller (left) and Harper walking</span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">to Chicago's tenth anniversary celebration</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">(University of Chicago Special Collections)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The ambitious Harper set
forth to innovate. He established departments of Egyptology and Sociology and
one of the first university presses in the U.S. He poached many a professor. And
he capitulated to the craze for college sports, with the university joining the
Big Ten Conference in 1896.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The football team achieved fame and glory. They were the “Mighty
Maroons” until 1946, when Chicago withdrew from the conference. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">***<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">But now it is April of
1903 and an agent of the Marine Carriers Association, which represents the
owners of the steamers that ply the Great Lakes, meets with Stagg and some of
his athletes. Stokers have struck at the port in Buffalo, N.Y. Surely the
coach’s brawny young men are up to the work of shoveling coal into the freighters’
furnaces. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">They were not the nation’s
first student strikebreakers. In 1901, UC-Berkeley athletes had unloaded cargo
on the San Francisco docks. The San Francisco Labor Council denounced the
students but UC president Benjamin Wheeler cheered them on.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Two years later in
Chicago, William Rainey Harper kept mum after the student “stokers” made the
news. But when representatives of the Chicago Federation of Labor and the
Material Trades Council demanded an explanation, Harper issued a statement:</span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> *I </span></span>was out of town when the athletes decided to act as strikebreakers <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> *</span></span><!--[endif]-->The
students did not consult with university officials<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> *</span></span><!--[endif]-->University
officials would have discouraged the students from proceeding<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> *</span></span><!--[endif]-->The
university places no requirements on students except that they behave like
gentlemen and perform their duties<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> *</span></span><!--[endif]-->Students
may absent themselves from their studies but must accept the consequences<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> *</span></span><!--[endif]-->The
university is not responsible for its students’ opinions<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> *</span></span><!--[endif]-->The
university does not take a side on any question; students and professors are
free to think and do as they see fit<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">As the editor of <i>American
Industries </i>noted, “President Harper of Chicago University Gets Solidly on
Both Sides of the Question.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Indeed, Harper would have
been foolish to laud the students despite Rockefeller’s (and possibly his own) anti-labor
stance. The university was in the midst of a building spree with a gymnasium,
commons, bell tower, and law school under construction, not to mention perennial
modification of the wooden stands that encircled the football field. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Chicago could not afford a
strike and never again—to my knowledge—would its students cross a line. But
others did.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Historian Stephen H.
Norwood, University of Oklahoma, has written extensively about student
strikebreakers.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Columbia students broke a
subway workers strike in 1905. Harvard students were called upon by university
president A. Lawrence Lowell to help break the Boston Policemen’s Strike of
1919. Students were paid or volunteered to be strikebreakers well into the
1920s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Norwood attributes student
strikebreaking to several issues:</span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> *</span></span><!--[endif]-->the
early-twentieth-century cult of Christian masculinity, of which President
Theodore Roosevelt was a proponent</span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> *</span></span><!--[endif]-->the
brutality of football</span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> *</span></span><!--[endif]-->bans
on violent hazing practices which left a void for aggressive social behavior</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Further, the 1900s saw the
rise of the “gentlemen’s C.” Many male students were not serious about their
education and spent much of their time in pursuit of adventure—“larks.” </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_w2rE1faAn8H4lI_Nd4L2W6YgH11P_tDSbsOr42DAxRNL0veX6uKhGGVPbrIFok7PNxuTWtMwVWcu2cIpT79CBb9JOY6uO369N-5eJ6jkZnnVNSjKRG5BeMkRmUb7SNb-L8BXkSt0OL7WT3XzQHPeh_vlQnNS0f1iuUIcGctUzL2pJZcQeYr-0wG9FFF/s446/Strikebreakers5.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="341" data-original-width="446" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_w2rE1faAn8H4lI_Nd4L2W6YgH11P_tDSbsOr42DAxRNL0veX6uKhGGVPbrIFok7PNxuTWtMwVWcu2cIpT79CBb9JOY6uO369N-5eJ6jkZnnVNSjKRG5BeMkRmUb7SNb-L8BXkSt0OL7WT3XzQHPeh_vlQnNS0f1iuUIcGctUzL2pJZcQeYr-0wG9FFF/w400-h306/Strikebreakers5.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Class of 1906 president "Bab" Andrews, far left</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">“Bab” Andrews, leader of
the Chicago strikebreakers, was the king of larks.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">A few months before
heading to Buffalo, he had rounded up ten students on behalf of the Wisconsin
Central Railroad, whose officials were trying to identify an embezzling
conductor. Andrews et al purportedly found the culprit and declared that they’d
had a great time.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Not so fast, observed the editor
of the <i>Chicago Tribune</i>:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Though the young man may flatter himself
with the titles of detective and strike-breaker, he has really earned the
degree of “Spotter” and “Scab” and all the dishonor pertaining thereto.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Indeed, anti-unionism
among middle- and upper-class Americans lay at the heart of the strikebreakers’
capers. Most students who could afford to attend college at the turn of the
twentieth century would likely side with capitalists over laborers.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">Especially for the fun of
it. </span><i style="font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgct3pJsn9jjrUi5Bu50d7VKWDR1yanfYgE_OlL7O4etwCV7Hxgb9KpL-j884ff57VCFk_xs9aHYthZJoOADeQR-O-idCOEAirMM_x2CPXmwpHgJH6HxVbJ3YLs3dAvKj3byKJkUZOY1rJP-hNVXC4Lh-lTZLsUm5FokTSFc6qJY8oIYH2ceE1XvllOwhG4/s1156/Strikebreakers3.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="790" data-original-width="1156" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgct3pJsn9jjrUi5Bu50d7VKWDR1yanfYgE_OlL7O4etwCV7Hxgb9KpL-j884ff57VCFk_xs9aHYthZJoOADeQR-O-idCOEAirMM_x2CPXmwpHgJH6HxVbJ3YLs3dAvKj3byKJkUZOY1rJP-hNVXC4Lh-lTZLsUm5FokTSFc6qJY8oIYH2ceE1XvllOwhG4/s320/Strikebreakers3.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Circa 1906</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://throughthehourglass/"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;">https://throughthehourglass/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-91533422741445743332023-12-30T07:35:00.000-05:002023-12-30T07:35:22.813-05:00December Sunrise<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjz1SWcyOJB_upT5lGxIr5ShEUsh2WR54ZS07KA1levsuRNQNxPzg4gsT8XctPJFq7JWOo27wBNfKihl_qMLve5q7uVVAYd7GYBJ3NpmBbnHyMKrovXX2jtdqsCJY99Lyjq3djrLwuYSVIXlx2iFpgPlRdBelULC8VC78-auOeFwDcGFDLvWCxpg594n05/s3910/IMG_0399.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2932" data-original-width="3910" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjz1SWcyOJB_upT5lGxIr5ShEUsh2WR54ZS07KA1levsuRNQNxPzg4gsT8XctPJFq7JWOo27wBNfKihl_qMLve5q7uVVAYd7GYBJ3NpmBbnHyMKrovXX2jtdqsCJY99Lyjq3djrLwuYSVIXlx2iFpgPlRdBelULC8VC78-auOeFwDcGFDLvWCxpg594n05/s320/IMG_0399.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-23501155152118579002023-11-16T11:47:00.006-05:002023-12-13T06:54:31.420-05:00Confidence Man<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSEztQm_HTZTZGF0rwEaGEGaKTyrb2UEUzoDjMth6KL2F5W8S1cgbhkBGxwjRxry9NqMV6KWoDAeoAyzLlUYXClmmt6peHA2HVXvQe99KJ7c2sp8_whR3wkiTFAbcFvsMQh9K4KjyfDjT9RrRNJCAnccNYliy-X0NsZZgUyk1S8x4GRBNbvacAsnpYrvI/s553/Amey%201918%20NYC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="553" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSEztQm_HTZTZGF0rwEaGEGaKTyrb2UEUzoDjMth6KL2F5W8S1cgbhkBGxwjRxry9NqMV6KWoDAeoAyzLlUYXClmmt6peHA2HVXvQe99KJ7c2sp8_whR3wkiTFAbcFvsMQh9K4KjyfDjT9RrRNJCAnccNYliy-X0NsZZgUyk1S8x4GRBNbvacAsnpYrvI/w400-h325/Amey%201918%20NYC.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Dr. J.W. Amey appeared in a 1918 "great men" directory.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Ironically, the first time the newspapers took note of Jesse
Willis Amey, he was playing the role of a confidence man in a play, <i>Black
Diamond Express.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">As the 29-year old Amey toured Pennsylvania and Maryland with the
troupe Railroad Comedy Drama, he formulated grand plans for the rest of his
life. It was 1900 and he did not intend to spend much more of the twentieth
century living with his sister and brother-in-law in upstate New York.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Within a few years Amey enrolled
at the New York University and Bellevue Hospital Medical College and by 1907 he
was an MD ensconced in the NYU Department of Dermatology. Among his first
patients, who both died, were the ringmaster of the Hippodrome Theatre and a
repertory actor. The doctor always kept one foot in the theater.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Dr. Amey was living on West 45<sup>th</sup>
Street and getting around town as a member of the Friars Club and the New York
Athletic Club when he made the acquaintance of Nelle Burrelle, wealthy widow
and president of Burrelle’s Clipping Bureau.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">An Ohioan named Frank
Burrelle established the Bureau in New York City in 1888. Purportedly the idea
came from a conversation he overheard: two businessmen in a bar bemoaning the
fact that they had no way to keep track of the newspaper stories about their companies.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Frank’s second wife,
Nelle, a native of Indiana who’d led a wild life as the wife of a Pittsburgh
railroad man before she divorced him and came to New York, was creative and
enterprising. She expanded the Bureau with commemorative scrapbooks and pitched
Burrelle’s services to writers and performers on the circuit, such as Emile
Zola in 1898. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfE35EXbkVB7BXqfUnzLgq00U5y-EDjscN9pnIUteAb4LmPok2HnAr3fGgxeuT_Clw3Y6L8S7hKkjZzJenO137i1cNmNEicELXPBSqUG7PbDFfty9Kt9fCuqu93MH2Lj7gqjt6oiLQpHnQofnGKaGhopQLsc4oEMH_8fZ-XD6r2FgXuKSDEOYISiiSA25d/s2016/Frank%20car1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfE35EXbkVB7BXqfUnzLgq00U5y-EDjscN9pnIUteAb4LmPok2HnAr3fGgxeuT_Clw3Y6L8S7hKkjZzJenO137i1cNmNEicELXPBSqUG7PbDFfty9Kt9fCuqu93MH2Lj7gqjt6oiLQpHnQofnGKaGhopQLsc4oEMH_8fZ-XD6r2FgXuKSDEOYISiiSA25d/w480-h640/Frank%20car1.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Nelle and Frank embraced automobiles around the turn of<br />the twentieth century. This article appeared in 1905.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>In 1910, Frank died
unexpectedly while he and Nelle were on a cruise in the Gulf of Mexico. By that
time Burrelle’s had 3,000 clients and a large office in the City Hall
neighborhood where all of the New York newspapers were headquartered. Nelle
moved into an apartment in the Carlton Hotel on 44<sup>th</sup> Street, which
she decorated with patent medicine ads, tools, and “For Sale” signs.</span> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">On March 9, 1911, a notice
of the engagement of Nelle Burrelle to Dr J. W. Amey appeared in the society
pages. The Brooklyn <i>Times-Union</i> commented:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Beside having shown herself a competent
business woman and having registered the biggest year’s business in the life of
the firm, Mrs. Burrelle is well known in social circles and supports many
charities unostentatiously. Dr. Amey is one of the most popular physicians in
the city and he and Mrs. Burrelle have long been friends. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">That very night Nelle denied
the engagement. Amey followed with a statement: “The story of the engagement
between Mrs. Burrelle and myself, as published today, was authorized by me and
issued in good faith.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="text-align: left;">Nelle mused to a reporter:</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Why did Dr. Amey make such an announcement?
I suppose, in his case, the wish was father to the thought. Perhaps the doctor
has imagination and wished to carry me by storm. Well, we are not living in
medieval times. Men don’t strap their women across their horses now and carry
them away. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwjpJotm9PUFoTevCQPE3tTGteeRDzNb2TjCV3JaOm_coa_e_ysWPwAv9vix00DsQbyzUyDueUWedskk0Korcg9FIgW8mY64m3AT7bXCWtb8jRgvmL_ASNCOSi45pgkRXOYj8fBdgIUoICMkthG7ZLYfb-_gEvEDIJlSl8dysmS7jUh4Unu5pnUY7R77n4/s640/Amey%20Nelle2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="519" data-original-width="640" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwjpJotm9PUFoTevCQPE3tTGteeRDzNb2TjCV3JaOm_coa_e_ysWPwAv9vix00DsQbyzUyDueUWedskk0Korcg9FIgW8mY64m3AT7bXCWtb8jRgvmL_ASNCOSi45pgkRXOYj8fBdgIUoICMkthG7ZLYfb-_gEvEDIJlSl8dysmS7jUh4Unu5pnUY7R77n4/w400-h325/Amey%20Nelle2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">During these years, Nelle and her company were<br />on top of the world. </span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Ten months later, Nelle
fell ill at her apartment. Her death followed a 48-hour coma. Acute nephritis and
uremia were listed as the causes, but the coroner received an anonymous telephone
tip that hinted at murder. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Coroner Holtzhauser did
not say, “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark,” but he did make an
announcement: “From what I have learned thus far I believe there may be
something wrong.” He performed an autopsy and ruled Nelle’s death to be of
undetermined cause.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Speaking to the press, Holtzhauser
expressed surprise that Dr. Amey had been one of the three physicians who
attended Nelle, that Amey had put his own nurse in charge of the patient, and
that he had prescribed medicine that was found at Nelle’s bedside.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The drama continued.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Dr. Amey, whose inappropriate
behavior did not seem to draw further suspicion among the authorities, reported
to the police that thousands of dollars’ worth of jewelry was missing from
Nelle’s bedroom and her safe in the Carlton Hotel. He described two solitaire
rings, a pear brooch, a purse studded with diamonds, and so on.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgknaWNaw8ODKJ5y0ebJwDw5dABJuAiuAleEYqWuIBNhrSyM9wDoumhjniFPAbtYEi0FIeyGJkE1JI3l2XkMWkl6XEBz_mw3O5GpMytpd0B1tnt5qBEfMKR6EjsFInFqzM20xdzqkkgRt_mFw7SLvLZpZWYgULVt88wzw-RIZzbcMktI7vFWj9_l5t0TdwO/s1280/Amey%20Nelle1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="788" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgknaWNaw8ODKJ5y0ebJwDw5dABJuAiuAleEYqWuIBNhrSyM9wDoumhjniFPAbtYEi0FIeyGJkE1JI3l2XkMWkl6XEBz_mw3O5GpMytpd0B1tnt5qBEfMKR6EjsFInFqzM20xdzqkkgRt_mFw7SLvLZpZWYgULVt88wzw-RIZzbcMktI7vFWj9_l5t0TdwO/w394-h640/Amey%20Nelle1.jpg" width="394" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Nelle’s will was missing,
too! But about six months later, Dr. Amey delivered Nelle’s will to the
surrogate. It had been slipped under his door, he said.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Someone leaked the
contents to the press. Nelle had left shares of Burrelle’s stock and money to
various employees, her two sisters, and Frank Burrelle’s two children by his
first wife. She named Jesse W. Amey co-executor and left him the rest of her
estate.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The date of execution and
Nelle’s signature were missing, rendering it invalid. Eventually Nelle’s two
sisters claimed the inheritance.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Dr. Amey went on with his
life, purchasing a yacht, competing in trapshooting contests, and marrying
Grace May Hoffman, a coloratura soprano who toured with John Philip Sousa. The
couple had two sons who were young when their mother died in 1924.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Grace’s parents were
devastated—not only by their daughter’s early death. For some reason, the prospect
of Dr. Amey continuing to play a part in the lives of their grandsons was out
of the question.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Jesse, Jr. and Frank were
reared in Manhattan until their grandfather’s death and then in Schenectady by
their great-aunt Grace. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Dr. Amey never missed a
chance to get his name in the papers. In the late twenties, he started a
cosmetic surgery clinic well before such doctors knew what they were doing in
the operating room. Mehmet Oz-like, he promoted a controversial anti-cancer
serum. His pronouncements were clunky and pompous at the same time.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He fit neatly into his
time as an actor-doctor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLKZvZtmZ9okfWp7V1mXk7d3jD3o6dF9IQwGy_DO9kcGo-vA384GblQ3xmZgG35ir1VcQwQNVNn2eEijQCxcDEw0aAK4Ytw79gRT_Ixc_hf7u1c2pNaUMaWJLjbd5yXOxsYhyphenhyphennsPPMaF227bpkkYExHKsJfIiB5T-IgrIxZzncwgil92-R_ytfbebgf1N/s1980/Amey%20Tribute.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1980" data-original-width="786" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLKZvZtmZ9okfWp7V1mXk7d3jD3o6dF9IQwGy_DO9kcGo-vA384GblQ3xmZgG35ir1VcQwQNVNn2eEijQCxcDEw0aAK4Ytw79gRT_Ixc_hf7u1c2pNaUMaWJLjbd5yXOxsYhyphenhyphennsPPMaF227bpkkYExHKsJfIiB5T-IgrIxZzncwgil92-R_ytfbebgf1N/w159-h400/Amey%20Tribute.jpg" width="159" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 10pt;">*Eventually Dr. Amey
wended his way to Coral Gables, Florida, remarried to a wealthy divorcee, and died
in 1939. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-59480250254834642682023-11-14T05:18:00.000-05:002023-11-14T05:18:52.949-05:00Calling Joseph Mandelkern<p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLe4582oHdatVRT2PM019Y2u2pR4kYMLcEzbCmEryxG9oqh3eCB6lGjEIJpDEQcUTejS50_a_CbJX5VK8iHkbPb3UJt7bjtm-WDn4F7hTPFQsjcg3eGwB35m6ZlpkqqnDJUVCammmaX9I1KJ0fEwvaoMLpqjJKqby9LAHulh8F3ONBD1oTNEJbUzeWpMnx/s640/JM1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="423" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLe4582oHdatVRT2PM019Y2u2pR4kYMLcEzbCmEryxG9oqh3eCB6lGjEIJpDEQcUTejS50_a_CbJX5VK8iHkbPb3UJt7bjtm-WDn4F7hTPFQsjcg3eGwB35m6ZlpkqqnDJUVCammmaX9I1KJ0fEwvaoMLpqjJKqby9LAHulh8F3ONBD1oTNEJbUzeWpMnx/s320/JM1.jpg" width="212" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">“Famous for his artistic
eye,” the early-twentieth century theater agent Joseph Mandelkern liked to boast
that he discovered the ethereal prima ballerina Anna Pavlova. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">This was not true.
However, between 1900 and 1924, the New York-based impresario sailed to Europe
dozens of times and always returned clutching a bunch of contracts for Russian performers
to tour the United States.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Perpetually wielding a
cigar, Mandelkern was “Mephistophelian,” “fast-talking,” and “wily,” according
to reports.<b>*</b> I bet that his rivals, and perhaps some of his friends, occasionally
felt the urge to punch him or sue him. He landed in court at least a few times.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Yet he did help to ignite
the American passion for classical Russian ballet. In the fall of 1911, many
U.S. newspapers ran this story:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">RUSSIA
FORBIDS IMPERIAL DANCERS TO LEAVE COUNTRY<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The ranks of the imperial artists have been
so depleted that Chief Director Krupensky is at his wit’s end to provide a
suitable ballet to be given before the Tzar at Krasnoye Selo, the famous “red
village” near St. Petersburg where Russia’s ruler spends the summer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">At the center of the
controversy stood Lydia Lopokova, one of Mandelkern’s prize catches. Beautiful
and independent, Lydia possessed an extraordinary presence although she was
only sixteen years old. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5xJ-ZE9jRnWPHh-eNxqDZdTi8Ti7uUSgrq8Zul50qoVcSjStEaHJpmg-Cj5Av4vmjpopx6OAlM5NoAkvq-oyCAeBWpborYWUgosVatefERSY_TvsYiacF6nIXGcqb3j9Swyxr5XHxEaTTUTVkjCyjpIsDsPwopWo3322upzM9PtYVSjvtwU8UNqtnUVi/s2274/JM8.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2274" data-original-width="660" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5xJ-ZE9jRnWPHh-eNxqDZdTi8Ti7uUSgrq8Zul50qoVcSjStEaHJpmg-Cj5Av4vmjpopx6OAlM5NoAkvq-oyCAeBWpborYWUgosVatefERSY_TvsYiacF6nIXGcqb3j9Swyxr5XHxEaTTUTVkjCyjpIsDsPwopWo3322upzM9PtYVSjvtwU8UNqtnUVi/w186-h640/JM8.jpg" width="186" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Three dancers—Lydia, her
brother Feodor, and Alexander Volinine—signed with Mandelkern in Paris during
the summer of 1910. At the time, Lydia and Alexander were performing with the avant-garde Ballets Russes. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Then Lydia disappeared. After
a few days, during which detectives dashed madly around Paris, she emerged on
the arm of a nobleman of Polish descent. He had been following her around for
months and finally persuaded her to marry him. Now they would return to Russia
for the wedding. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Mandelkern must have twisted
her arm hard because Lydia changed her mind and boarded the ship. When they arrived
at Ellis Island a few weeks later, she said, “I like New York very much.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">During the next two years,
Lydia earned a lot of money and fame. Mandelkern booked her all over the
country, including Buffalo, N.Y., where a producer arbitrarily cut Lydia’s appearances
in half.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Irate, Mandelkern lost control and shouted at the audience from a private box. The police arrested him and led him from the
theater. The producer followed, delivering a few body blows along the way.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">After paying a $25 fine,
Mandelkern was released on $300 bail. Lydia returned to Europe, married the
economist John Maynard Keynes, and left Joseph Mandelkern behind.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWXktwvJy0q-uPWDN53MW9xvkLYTUN5sZx4D_YD5HmByN9Hz5DFZJvHcKd-G5T4Gr0J2Y9g1ZU-uVKisFiVO7FabC5200aITdqFD0DrCAoynMThGXVMgqn9tdCTPEhhoyfjW9aY5wdzdF-Gazwm8LssvAW-TFHDrCJUTvKt_YbKuL5MvX5gnUMi0Atse0B" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="459" data-original-width="640" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWXktwvJy0q-uPWDN53MW9xvkLYTUN5sZx4D_YD5HmByN9Hz5DFZJvHcKd-G5T4Gr0J2Y9g1ZU-uVKisFiVO7FabC5200aITdqFD0DrCAoynMThGXVMgqn9tdCTPEhhoyfjW9aY5wdzdF-Gazwm8LssvAW-TFHDrCJUTvKt_YbKuL5MvX5gnUMi0Atse0B" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> "House in the Pines," located in Jamesburg, N.J., <br />was owned by a Russian couple. Mandelkern<br />often visited there during the 1920s. </span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">After World War I, the
business of artist representation saw considerable change, and there may have
been less room for Joseph Mandelkern. Besides, he wanted a different life back
in the old world.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">In 1922 he applied for a
new passport. In his photograph, Mandelkern appears wizened, half-hidden by
large glasses and a straw boater. Six months after the passport was issued,
Mandelkern wrote to the Department of State to request that the headshot be
swapped for another picture in which he looked much younger. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: georgia; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnf_QmHbwp2frkao2VH7GDB7EbjxmM7PdR7SEFeTu68UBxJwYO_pQRXGXQfLyW7hHi9RGRT5Gok32C5dFFWh1gKm34hQFYYdnlGyl-z_IEnXdcfHt9FckS9H2VfKwfTFJjqh2x5gGWzQhVv2rBk9hpER6pZMHX_Y8353Ks7Kw9qalGBj1pVbFGkDgvrT0V/s332/JM-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="307" data-original-width="332" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnf_QmHbwp2frkao2VH7GDB7EbjxmM7PdR7SEFeTu68UBxJwYO_pQRXGXQfLyW7hHi9RGRT5Gok32C5dFFWh1gKm34hQFYYdnlGyl-z_IEnXdcfHt9FckS9H2VfKwfTFJjqh2x5gGWzQhVv2rBk9hpER6pZMHX_Y8353Ks7Kw9qalGBj1pVbFGkDgvrT0V/s320/JM-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Passport photo, Joseph Mandelkern, 1922 <br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Then he went off to
Wiesbaden, where he married Therese Jung, a woman nearly 30 years younger than
he. In June 1925, they moved to Merano, Italy, just south of the German border.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">In May of 1938, Hitler
visited Italy for the second time and enjoyed, in the words of historian Paul
Baza, “a massive display of fascist spectacle in three cities: Rome, Naples and
Florence.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Soon after, Mussolini ordered
the enforcement of severe antisemitic laws. Unsurprisingly, Therese and Joseph
Mandelkern were marked “di razza ebraica” on a census of Jews conducted in
Italy in August 1938.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxpEGdHHzlZIyNhybx4zPmwzb50PS6iJmRBz9A6uCE1YUor-xBS1XjrfneJ0hb2O3EHJvdzg-PynyntQNmK85b7bTktsQHCEEag-2e8hWquBKssvRormWG_RLh33WUKEEosALzdUBMqlj80AaAbBQ4_DCBLTkdM7h5sp96BqPX30K24HwU7iVihQnEOGl8/s960/JM%201938.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="960" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxpEGdHHzlZIyNhybx4zPmwzb50PS6iJmRBz9A6uCE1YUor-xBS1XjrfneJ0hb2O3EHJvdzg-PynyntQNmK85b7bTktsQHCEEag-2e8hWquBKssvRormWG_RLh33WUKEEosALzdUBMqlj80AaAbBQ4_DCBLTkdM7h5sp96BqPX30K24HwU7iVihQnEOGl8/w400-h250/JM%201938.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Hitler and Mussolini, 1938</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">There is evidence that
Joseph tried unsuccessfully to return to the U.S. He suffered a stroke in
December 1939, died soon after, and is buried in Merano’s Jewish Cemetery. In
the official report of his death, no known relatives were listed besides
Therese.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Few acknowledge that
Joseph Mandelkern played a major part in shaping the cultural tastes of
Americans at the turn of the twentieth century. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">Really, he must have
been insufferable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">*Quotes from </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Bloomsbury
Ballerina </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">by Judith Mackrell, an excellent biography of Lydia Lopokova.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">**https://www.jamesburg.net/jhistory.html </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-17626205122659857482023-10-21T08:06:00.000-04:002023-10-21T08:06:18.760-04:00Rainy Day Tree<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNUvfQwxPVQNhH8CmUesR0LYjIiQfAk1aVM_vzYX8rcxVBcwiYgOAEOl0OozjvwE-tO0Z67Hh_sPNJBGyRuEWD1ZLDfvaFEx-Aw0IpeYgSsWP01JxIhrthzrQAUrVpXFnzGvbeH4p4F28SwwgF4NsSarYNasIpwu-dNbK-jd0FXuZv3TBVThPIaXL3ejja/s640/Rainy%20day%20tree1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNUvfQwxPVQNhH8CmUesR0LYjIiQfAk1aVM_vzYX8rcxVBcwiYgOAEOl0OozjvwE-tO0Z67Hh_sPNJBGyRuEWD1ZLDfvaFEx-Aw0IpeYgSsWP01JxIhrthzrQAUrVpXFnzGvbeH4p4F28SwwgF4NsSarYNasIpwu-dNbK-jd0FXuZv3TBVThPIaXL3ejja/w480-h640/Rainy%20day%20tree1.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-17953127316627108512023-10-04T09:35:00.000-04:002023-10-04T09:35:56.063-04:00Joseph Mandelkern's Return to Russia<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEJKRbpQ7Ss4zn_iewRVlaICIvYBPlvGnj4eMRzC7kh3nSgcbY0V4asROoLQyeGCa_o-dJcBnCh7pVP9MJ20v2v6WtYTCKowjAj7pYjTlFWBdaXQxVv1R6ZyzB5JsmdpWKV8DyhpioNyP9JQxsWTbdfYJy1hvaEmoL0RLyls3ZBoNtmzwhiCCDxPSrzfni/s815/JM3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="815" data-original-width="504" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEJKRbpQ7Ss4zn_iewRVlaICIvYBPlvGnj4eMRzC7kh3nSgcbY0V4asROoLQyeGCa_o-dJcBnCh7pVP9MJ20v2v6WtYTCKowjAj7pYjTlFWBdaXQxVv1R6ZyzB5JsmdpWKV8DyhpioNyP9JQxsWTbdfYJy1hvaEmoL0RLyls3ZBoNtmzwhiCCDxPSrzfni/w248-h400/JM3.jpg" width="248" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tolstoy and Gorky, 1900</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">On July 4, 1905, the Polish-born
impresario and real estate man Joseph Mandelkern landed on page two of the <i>New
York Times</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The 41-year old hotshot
had arrived in Europe a few weeks earlier. He toured Warsaw, Lodz, and
Bialystok. In the small town of Dzialoszyce with its majestic synagogue, Mandelkern
visited his widowed mother, whom he had not seen since 1884 when he immigrated
to America.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">FOUND
ANARCHY IN POLAND<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">JOSEPH
MANDELKERN OF NEW YORK<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">TELLS
OF HIS OBSERVATIONS<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: large;"> </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Georgia, serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_oHUu_p_6m1G0opLdUP2aRKgdrkMy81Zf3o6v2PW8SVif7dxTOEee7E4OU_H4sShnXKQXWS7ZCljlMUGrp9a3yRW6SXW_HZ_CJ33Y8CjifQY87UHvULQm9MWh-srd55jLKQU9d_IP4Psh1xL5pAfPDVsBo72lsJullDD-XP_eRM3ZJwubevQIb5Lp8Xe/s1021/Tsar.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1021" data-original-width="729" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_oHUu_p_6m1G0opLdUP2aRKgdrkMy81Zf3o6v2PW8SVif7dxTOEee7E4OU_H4sShnXKQXWS7ZCljlMUGrp9a3yRW6SXW_HZ_CJ33Y8CjifQY87UHvULQm9MWh-srd55jLKQU9d_IP4Psh1xL5pAfPDVsBo72lsJullDD-XP_eRM3ZJwubevQIb5Lp8Xe/s320/Tsar.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He saw a parade of 20,000 people
carrying red flags. Revolutionaries in blue shirts. Everyone armed with pistols
and knives. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It is intriguing that
Mandelkern chose the summer of 1905, a scant six months after the First Russian
Revolution, to make a three-month trip into political and social chaos.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Days before Mandelkern
arrived in St. Petersburg, the officers of the battleship <i>Potemkin</i> had
been overcome by revolution-minded mutineers who were enraged by their
treatment during the Russo-Japanese War.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">As famously portrayed in
the 1925 film <i>Battleship Potemkin</i>, Cossacks murdered 1,000 men, women,
and children who stood cheering the mutineers from the Richelieu Steps in
Odessa while the ship was anchored offshore in the Black Sea. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEie_pkY273PUUFhTCDhAk8bWYS0hGO1lFn1ly8LoC00TTdqgLdVbFvTnQF1VeLh4tSWbiMEq_kH4bZiMrmgYZrnfImyNLYIZKq13n0YqTBql451M5BvvL96jMam4QC63Etrg4t-zc10W135m7AE1e8xRh5lBGWg_tmsGDLeSskwcMGuMvA-Ybn5bONtOsp3" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="356" data-original-width="644" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEie_pkY273PUUFhTCDhAk8bWYS0hGO1lFn1ly8LoC00TTdqgLdVbFvTnQF1VeLh4tSWbiMEq_kH4bZiMrmgYZrnfImyNLYIZKq13n0YqTBql451M5BvvL96jMam4QC63Etrg4t-zc10W135m7AE1e8xRh5lBGWg_tmsGDLeSskwcMGuMvA-Ybn5bONtOsp3=w400-h221" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Famous scene from <i>Battleship Potemkin</i>, directed by <br />Soviet film director Sergei Eisenstein<i> </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It was a dangerous, bloody
time but Mandelkern felt confident about navigating through the Russian Empire
because he possessed a “release from allegiance” signed by a consul general
named Count Ladyzhensky. Mandelkern had paid 800 rubles for the document. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">A supply of Havana cigars
also greased the wheels.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Crossing the border
between Germany and Russia, Mandelkern became aware of a new word, “Uligani,” derived
from the English word “hoodlum.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It entered into every conversation he held, with friends or
strangers, in his home city. He heard it uttered in terror at the bier of a
murdered friend. When he looked for his dead father’s gravestone, the same word
was whispered into his ear by the gravedigger as a warning. When he wanted to
seek rest and recreation in a public park he heard it again on the lips of a
gendarme. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The Uligani preyed on
everyone. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Now here was Mandelkern, a
Jew, making his way through Russia as if he were an old friend of Nicholas and
Alexandra. He also visited two anti-Czarists, famous writers both—Leo Tolstoy
and Maxim Gorky.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p>Mandelkern boarded a train
in Helsinki to reach Gorky, a 37-year old Socialist Realist author and
Bolshevik sympathizer who spent his summers in a villa in Kokkola, Finland.
After lunch, two messengers brought news of the <i>Potemkin</i>.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p>“What have we to be afraid
of?” Gorky mused aloud. “The time for secrecy is past. The change must come
soon. Everybody knows it.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Then Mandelkern went off
to Yasnaya Polyana, Tolstoy’s country estate a few hours by train from Moscow. After
lunch, Mandelkern learned that the Okhrana—the Czar’s secret police—regularly harassed
Tolstoy. Meanwhile, the Bolsheviks demanded that he relinquish his property to
divide among peasants. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Returning to the U.S. in
August, Mandelkern met with a <i>Times </i>reporter to share grim tales of
corruption, deprivation, and violence.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Nonetheless, Mandelkern told
the reporter, he detected courage among the Russians, a willingness to speak
out against the Czar’s tyranny and the waste of the Russo-Japanese War.</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">***<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">By the time of his 1905
visit, Mandelkern had established himself as a stealthy theater agent who nabbed
gifted performers. His fluency in English, Russian, and Polish enabled him to
execute contracts before anyone else in the room knew the details. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Always in motion,
Mandelkern traveled through the Midwest and to Europe. His wife Pauline and their
five children—at least two of whom were already superb musicians—watched him
come and go.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">One senses he was aloof
and finicky.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He certainly had no time for
his family in 1906, when Maxim Gorky accepted an invitation to come to America.
Mandelkern even hinted at the possibility of a visit with President Theodore
Roosevelt.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFrO86S6j-De29lw9YBGrgXjSS7ygK9eClNH9Kv6rGCECBY3iNiSJPxgulAatgZzaJGmFygX4b7nqAGg13MnhoEN2ywDD7vxXHIpWVyan9rCrjqvYiIzBNkXvi2vObTpaFRXsnEj8hjWIxpzfvYwDHgI7UCEOJY02MtIZpXh5HAnDNFSnC4p_34wE6ATqD/s1818/Buffalo_Courier_1906_04_11_page_1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1818" data-original-width="934" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFrO86S6j-De29lw9YBGrgXjSS7ygK9eClNH9Kv6rGCECBY3iNiSJPxgulAatgZzaJGmFygX4b7nqAGg13MnhoEN2ywDD7vxXHIpWVyan9rCrjqvYiIzBNkXvi2vObTpaFRXsnEj8hjWIxpzfvYwDHgI7UCEOJY02MtIZpXh5HAnDNFSnC4p_34wE6ATqD/w205-h400/Buffalo_Courier_1906_04_11_page_1.jpg" width="205" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">On a sparkly April day, Gorky
arrived at Hoboken on a German steamship. A crowd of 1,000 greeted him. At the
end of the gangplank, a delegation of socialists stretched out its hands:
Abraham Cahan, editor of <i>The Forward</i>; Morris Hillquit, a labor lawyer;
Gaylord Wilshire, a California entrepreneur; Leroy Scott, a writer and
settlement worker; and Joseph Mandelkern. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Thus began Gorky’s
high-flying adventure with Mandelkern at his elbow. Lunch at the St. Regis. A
visit to Grant’s Tomb. Watching children feed the squirrels in Central Park. The
circus at Madison Square Garden.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“In a Russian city almost
every other man one meets is either a soldier or a policeman,” Gorky told
Mandelkern. “I haven’t seen a single soldier all day, and only two policemen.
Marvelous!”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">That evening, he was driven
down Fifth Avenue to “Club A,” a brownstone owned by a group of
revolutionary-minded New Yorkers. Here would occur the highlight of Gorky’s
visit: dinner with Mark Twain, William Dean Howells, and other American writers
who supported the movement to overthrow the Czar. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">A few days later, however,
Gorky was beset by scandal.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It turned out that the
writer had left his wife Katharine and two sons back in Russia. The woman who
accompanied him to the U.S. was actress Maria Feodorovna Andreyeva, his mistress
of several years.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Now Gorky ran into an American
problem: relentless prudishness about an issue that would have been irrelevant
in Russia. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5UUiLejAfdMY1OW40fUX1-3jzrpk0N4hJZ1DrJKh-ZOJSBHP7vB_MDvXA3JsfciXstI5f4r5-_vEgdErSjf_wz1p-zf8G9Lb_VYCpQyem9RyIpv6YE7tCTDonkdRXl5RwCMMDY-RDaWF811rm3NEwgqgCJwaiPV323f9kutqX9VxEZNHQO0KqASix2yEw/s1020/Hotel%20Brevoort.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="778" data-original-width="1020" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5UUiLejAfdMY1OW40fUX1-3jzrpk0N4hJZ1DrJKh-ZOJSBHP7vB_MDvXA3JsfciXstI5f4r5-_vEgdErSjf_wz1p-zf8G9Lb_VYCpQyem9RyIpv6YE7tCTDonkdRXl5RwCMMDY-RDaWF811rm3NEwgqgCJwaiPV323f9kutqX9VxEZNHQO0KqASix2yEw/w400-h305/Hotel%20Brevoort.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Hotel Brevoort, Fifth Avenue & Eighth Street</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Tossed from the Hotel
Rhinelander to the Hotel Brevoort to the Hotel Belleclaire, denounced
by the press and pushed away ever so gently by Twain et al, Gorky and Andreyeva
found themselves begging for a place to lay their heads. </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Joseph Mandelkern, who was very enthusiastic at first in his
eulogies of Gorky, said to a reporter for the <i>Eagle</i> that he had known it
for a long time and that others on this side knew of the relations with the
actress.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It does not appear that
Gorky and Andreyeva went back uptown to stay with the Mandelkern family.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">To be continued. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 10pt;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></a></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-18220153613899005552023-09-06T07:40:00.000-04:002023-09-06T07:40:17.515-04:00Interrogating Joseph Mandelkern<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ahED-dunNuDVBZ6QZIcndCxOH8ra8-NHyEsgmBk6vYLsNmAUQruW1Uttoak-1RiAgW7HN2ffNJS_kLDJpLErtqfQpGiYgZEL3DJrjG3OJlnpo-g_KdMz2jtnTx_PBRcx5uI5fFYP01b_CRES-Jr1VBsjCKwueqagRiX-ime3wpmoA_8WB_YUOW0dOn9Z/s634/JM4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="634" data-original-width="392" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ahED-dunNuDVBZ6QZIcndCxOH8ra8-NHyEsgmBk6vYLsNmAUQruW1Uttoak-1RiAgW7HN2ffNJS_kLDJpLErtqfQpGiYgZEL3DJrjG3OJlnpo-g_KdMz2jtnTx_PBRcx5uI5fFYP01b_CRES-Jr1VBsjCKwueqagRiX-ime3wpmoA_8WB_YUOW0dOn9Z/w248-h400/JM4.jpg" width="248" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">In 1886, Joseph Mandelkern
left his desk job in Bialystok City Hall and immigrated to America. His plans
were far grander than many an Eastern European newcomer. He already knew that
he would become an impresario. </span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">After settling in New York
City, Mandelkern placed a newspaper announcement that he had established a “New
Yiddish Theatre.” Then he sailed off to London to recruit famous Yiddish-speaking
performers. He had his eye on Jacob P. Adler, once a juvenile delinquent; now a
renowned European actor.<b><sup>*</sup></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Wackily, the trip was
funded by two wealthy Chicago clothiers named Rosengarten and Drozdovitch who
thought that New York had no business staking a claim on Yiddish theater.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">But the deal fell apart
and </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">Mandelkern came home instead with the team of Moishe Finkel and Sigmund
Mogulesko, who had been a smash hit on the Romanian stage.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It didn’t bother
Mandelkern that they were not a hit in New York. He had bigger fish to fry. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">In 1889, Mandelkern
traveled to Russia, Rumania, and Austria in search of more performers. Until
the early 1920s, he would visit Russia recurrently through pogroms, war, and
revolution.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Most Jews who fled Eastern
Europe in the late nineteenth century did not intend to return to the land of
persecution. Joseph Mandelkern’s ambition left no room for fear. Armed with a document
which took two years to obtain, he managed to dodge reprisals—to put it
mildly—from Cossacks and “Uligani,” as hoodlums were known.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">In June 1910, the <i>Brooklyn
Daily Eagle </i>reported: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It appeared yesterday that while Oscar Hammerstein, the
impresario, had been barred out of Russia, it is said, because of his Jewish
parentage, and also because it had become known that he was seeking to persuade
Russian singers and dancers, favorites of the Czar, to leave Russia, Joseph
Mandelkern, another Jewish impresario of this city, had been freely traveling
through the Czar’s domains. Mr. Mandelkern, who lives at 20 East 120<sup>th</sup>
Street in this city, just received in Moscow and St. Petersburg, had great
success in contracting with popular ballet and operatic favorites of both
cities for American tours. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Evidently Mandelkern liked
to show off, tempt fate, and challenge authority.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">That is why I wish the brilliant,
effervescent dance critic Ann Barzel were still alive to explain Mandelkern to
me. I met Ann in the summer of 1982 when she spent two weeks in Jackson,
Mississippi covering the International Ballet Competition for </span><i style="font-family: georgia;">Dance Magazine
</i><span style="font-family: georgia;">and </span><i style="font-family: georgia;">Dance News.</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">At 77 years old, she had
been devoted to all aspects of dance since the age of fourteen although she
didn’t care for “Twyla Twerp.”</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Since I was the
Competition’s director of public relations, Ann and I spoke often even before
the competition. In particular, she shared insight and background on the esteemed
jury co-chaired by Robert Joffrey.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Havb46adCVfZ1DicJuLGEn_XksGc320NB-LesWwC9nAAYuQpuWaREFWP41sS8SQaA3KWKHyCUMBowaGD9ZDg0PinCTBgEQjUAAk3kia0G6TkwGSODCSdvpMkpQ_veaaS7PqukBiXZrEFK_h_skBilxh4H6g-Pc5DfVMVWaB11NzKeiXjLK6MH_AXx2BM/s640/JM-IBC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Havb46adCVfZ1DicJuLGEn_XksGc320NB-LesWwC9nAAYuQpuWaREFWP41sS8SQaA3KWKHyCUMBowaGD9ZDg0PinCTBgEQjUAAk3kia0G6TkwGSODCSdvpMkpQ_veaaS7PqukBiXZrEFK_h_skBilxh4H6g-Pc5DfVMVWaB11NzKeiXjLK6MH_AXx2BM/w300-h400/JM-IBC.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghA19WPiu5pdWn9AHMzmpw0znO2Kx5VXrEu08qdjDJTsd_QisnXH8rFJU0upbY3uUCFWijLVMkCnROedzNvhT9K299WcL5oGXwY0HcXWhv8MNRDFIN6mG_ZeLKKuPeI4_R7PQDVINam8IatBXGRpJRHkNNx0eQffDBiELN466pz9qC_tJqeX_FdShjdZJg/s640/JM-Barzel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghA19WPiu5pdWn9AHMzmpw0znO2Kx5VXrEu08qdjDJTsd_QisnXH8rFJU0upbY3uUCFWijLVMkCnROedzNvhT9K299WcL5oGXwY0HcXWhv8MNRDFIN6mG_ZeLKKuPeI4_R7PQDVINam8IatBXGRpJRHkNNx0eQffDBiELN466pz9qC_tJqeX_FdShjdZJg/s320/JM-Barzel.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Ann Barzel contributed an essay to the program<br />for the 1982 International Ballet Competition.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Until the last minute, we
did not know who would represent the Soviet Union as co-chair. Ann thought it
would be Sofia Golovkina, director of the Bolshoi Ballet School, and she was
right.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A few days after the
appointment, Miss Golovkina called me to ask about proper attire for the galas
to which she had been invited.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I plan to wear the silk
pajama,” she confided.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ann loved the story.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Born in 1915, Sofia
Golovkina would have been too young for Joseph Mandelkern to pluck from the
arms of Mother Russia and put on tour in the United States.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But Ann—with her
encyclopedic knowledge of the history of ballet and the business of dance—might
have been able to explain Joseph Mandelkern’s rapid ascent as an agent and
producer.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Was he a Czarist, a
socialist or a capitalist? How did he manage to poach all of those Eastern
European dancers and actors? And why did he leave the United States so hastily in
1924?</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i>To be continued. </i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">*Jacob Adler’s daughter
founded the Stella Adler School of Acting in 1949. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-48167994090824968652023-07-10T06:27:00.001-04:002023-07-10T06:28:43.447-04:00 Reflection<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk0kcoFhWkgto9cqhA9p_Sw7hVuB-g5wf1lPBZ8nGMLhfiLBdgbVc-zx82DYOz2882CkaW2hT0PLPT_AGTAzEfws52uABRiVXyYv9L1rUtFEtsYN4oZWIU72LPpR-jJyvLvWPP3Qwqqw1PtZk3QqBVIdttd0cm3ClagXTmbWKwMIPAzqBBWiYB5GvVJ2aE/s593/Salisbury--17.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="593" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk0kcoFhWkgto9cqhA9p_Sw7hVuB-g5wf1lPBZ8nGMLhfiLBdgbVc-zx82DYOz2882CkaW2hT0PLPT_AGTAzEfws52uABRiVXyYv9L1rUtFEtsYN4oZWIU72LPpR-jJyvLvWPP3Qwqqw1PtZk3QqBVIdttd0cm3ClagXTmbWKwMIPAzqBBWiYB5GvVJ2aE/w400-h300/Salisbury--17.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: xx-small;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span> </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-63118439224796401202023-06-14T06:40:00.000-04:002023-06-14T06:40:19.401-04:00The Unexpected Journey of Mary Rankin Cranston<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJxRcLPriA_xx4c7Iev_JnryWOnlIgPI8XzXhvp5Lz1MF04RJO8kPuc7A8BHfza3AyvI-q4MfOmDNi2ZdPKhJmfg30bQqdgkO93EowPqXkABxNbrdHFvUN_bNQck_RcWCdN5eZijNBfMEeyERfOM3cCFoSq7Oic0xcxe5uD_eqkwfDxQ4D96ZGnGGgQ/s254/G%20MRC-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="254" data-original-width="155" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJxRcLPriA_xx4c7Iev_JnryWOnlIgPI8XzXhvp5Lz1MF04RJO8kPuc7A8BHfza3AyvI-q4MfOmDNi2ZdPKhJmfg30bQqdgkO93EowPqXkABxNbrdHFvUN_bNQck_RcWCdN5eZijNBfMEeyERfOM3cCFoSq7Oic0xcxe5uD_eqkwfDxQ4D96ZGnGGgQ/w244-h400/G%20MRC-2.jpg" width="244" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">In New York City toward
the end of the nineteenth century, Mary Rankin Cranston lodged in a boarding
house on West 56<sup>th</sup> Street and worked as a librarian at the American
Institute of Social Service.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Not long before she started
to call herself a “social engineer” and sailed to Europe to make a study of working
conditions, she had fled the South and a husband twenty years her senior whom
she married when she was a belle of Atlanta.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Born in 1873, daughter of
a druggist who called himself a doctor, Mamie Rankin must have had a serious
reason for leaving Henry Cranston. Now known as Mary, she “came to New York
with a definite and clear idea of what she wanted to do,” according to <i>Success
Magazine</i>, which saluted her in 1905. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Cranston had never expected to earn a
living but, after training as a librarian, she collaborated with two eminent
reformers—Dr. Josiah Strong and Dr. W.H. Tolman—who had just established the Institute. Social betterment and eliminating urban poverty were their crusades. </span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ZXBD_nzPOBzKQBusDZkJIB45HeUP1oeKKpHbi0bAvNx6N7_MQVWeZqqkIeC3ljQGwRTbgOk6foyrWD9WKbQO6TJJlwoXhqETpX1YBG9BbL7hprkS-cKxNno4rpgV2qWBPxP-ABEyxzhUyW7HKRl6eYqP08ZaEox-vVrrEbydzPGUmSDxkiXAf4lXBg/s788/C%20MRC-11.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="546" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ZXBD_nzPOBzKQBusDZkJIB45HeUP1oeKKpHbi0bAvNx6N7_MQVWeZqqkIeC3ljQGwRTbgOk6foyrWD9WKbQO6TJJlwoXhqETpX1YBG9BbL7hprkS-cKxNno4rpgV2qWBPxP-ABEyxzhUyW7HKRl6eYqP08ZaEox-vVrrEbydzPGUmSDxkiXAf4lXBg/w278-h400/C%20MRC-11.jpg" width="278" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Dr. Josiah Strong</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Dr. Strong, a Social Gospel
adherent whose chauvinistic beliefs about Anglo-Saxonism and Protestantism
would be considered unacceptable today, sought solutions to alienation
and destitution. Dr. Tolman, who had studied the nascent field of sociology at
Johns Hopkins, focused on problems of industrialization and “fresh-air”
programs like vacation schools. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">It was within this
Progressive agenda that Mary Rankin Cranston found a home. A librarian
untypical of her time, Cranston created from scratch a “social clearing-house,”
she explained to <i>Harper’s Monthly </i>in 1906. All available data and
written material related to social improvement and urban issues were gathered
in the Institute's library. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">She enthusiastically loaned most of the 1,500 volumes, 5,000
pamphlets, and countless articles to social workers, municipal officials, politicians,
business people, clergy, journalists, and students worldwide. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByp2t5wsLuW4On-91hRPV1bVKrqEL8_qArNFol5qWug5Y8SBWFHdUar_X4TEnFqeurhZZ99vLP28DGbFx2xtpG5T5WKc3rN_PmDlyAE8GPj3fcvg3otEsfDc0g-vY4mxpOQHyFk4FwmZAbTp8lvEs4Lk40C1ISf7BF6OjpSvL_1bkDvfqRF8ni56jrA/s1523/D%20MRC-21.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1523" data-original-width="986" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByp2t5wsLuW4On-91hRPV1bVKrqEL8_qArNFol5qWug5Y8SBWFHdUar_X4TEnFqeurhZZ99vLP28DGbFx2xtpG5T5WKc3rN_PmDlyAE8GPj3fcvg3otEsfDc0g-vY4mxpOQHyFk4FwmZAbTp8lvEs4Lk40C1ISf7BF6OjpSvL_1bkDvfqRF8ni56jrA/w414-h640/D%20MRC-21.jpg" width="414" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Cranston contributed articles to various publications,<br />including "Homes of the Poor in Large Cities" in the January 1902<br />issue of <i>Social Service.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">While expanding the
library, Cranston took time to pursue her own research. “The Housing of the
Negro in New York City,” which appeared in <i>Southern Workman</i>, in 1902,
was widely reprinted. She wrote:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">If white people have found it a hard
proposition to obtain decent homes in New York, it has been even worse for the
“brother in black” who must here as everywhere else take what he can get
without any choice in the matter. Wherever the Negro has gone—North, East,
South and West—he has found the same prejudice, more or less strongly expressed
in various localities, but always the same thing at the last analysis.
Theoretically some may advocate social equality but usually with the mental
reservation that it shall be at a safe distance from its champions. It is this
prejudice which forces the colored population into almost unhabitable quarters
in our cities, large and small.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"> </span></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht42uQf1ohUYojMD9z4vqr5jaKVr7zyObX-_QivZblhd3yoIHu1TSkl-kmIDIqcKSLqj4ZILkHZDX_nMPJQwO_H14qeF4DpC0gITlVEwEn3tx3NXdY6vxH5LYUnDURz1Y783EZLIbnxQuvBUNL_rpo4wUx-1ssI6tMgI5C9YAxzlYg7nkVrwlD09bi3g/s1546/F%20MRC-Negro3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1546" data-original-width="882" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht42uQf1ohUYojMD9z4vqr5jaKVr7zyObX-_QivZblhd3yoIHu1TSkl-kmIDIqcKSLqj4ZILkHZDX_nMPJQwO_H14qeF4DpC0gITlVEwEn3tx3NXdY6vxH5LYUnDURz1Y783EZLIbnxQuvBUNL_rpo4wUx-1ssI6tMgI5C9YAxzlYg7nkVrwlD09bi3g/w366-h640/F%20MRC-Negro3.jpg" width="366" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Photographs that illustrated Cranston's<br /> article, "The Housing of the Negro in New York City."</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">A year later, in “The New
Industrialism,” Cranston observed: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The most serious disadvantage to the
workingman of the introduction of machinery lies in his danger of becoming a
mere machine himself.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Cranston’s lectures and
articles began to draw attention from philanthropists like Helen Miller Gould,
daughter of the robber baron Jay Gould, who had inherited several of his
millions in 1892 and spent much of it on social reform. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Then, suddenly, came
change.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Perhaps Cranston seized
the idea from the backyard and vacant-lot gardens which had sprung up as
antidotes to life in the dirty, unpastoral city. Perhaps she burned out. Either
way, by spring of 1910 she was ensconced in an old farm in North Brunswick,
N.J.; occupation: poultry farmer. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Cranston spent her savings
to purchase the property, which she named “Pendidit” because writing had
provided the necessary money. In 1911, <i>Country Life in America</i> featured
her as part of its “Cutting Loose from the City” series.</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">HOW
ONE WOMAN, WITHOUT FAMILY OR MEANS, AND WITHOUT ANY PREVIOUS AGRICULTURAL
EXPERIENCE, HAS LAID THE FOUNDATION FOR AN OLD AGE OF PEACE AND PLENTY, AND AT
THE SAME TIME ADDED A PRESENT ZEST TO LIFE BY GETTING “BACK TO THE LAND”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: georgia; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyaqXaTNI9ZxBSNfUsbyo3qo2gLUnjfQWsA9ktwtlL2OtCceNEQpu_k8c7v_Kyb5ZVu7zjE2aDS_06N98P_Pa8HtwO6g3oZUynI3GxC4VcBFADXkXJWodvETRuCvVviFOW8nPdGXIzoMkd5_lW6utYsIsJnGAwi2YHkPQjiqiyOJO5AVW0YgGpcJzxA/s1234/E%20MRC-26.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1234" data-original-width="881" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyaqXaTNI9ZxBSNfUsbyo3qo2gLUnjfQWsA9ktwtlL2OtCceNEQpu_k8c7v_Kyb5ZVu7zjE2aDS_06N98P_Pa8HtwO6g3oZUynI3GxC4VcBFADXkXJWodvETRuCvVviFOW8nPdGXIzoMkd5_lW6utYsIsJnGAwi2YHkPQjiqiyOJO5AVW0YgGpcJzxA/w456-h640/E%20MRC-26.jpg" width="456" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">The first page of Cranston's article, "Fourteen Acres and<br />Freedom" (<i>Suburban Life</i>, 1913)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Cranston remained a writer and occasionally
published articles about farming. And in 1916, the same year that her first
husband, Henry Cranston, died in Georgia, she remarried. She and Matthew B.
Thomas, a farmer, were together until her death in 1931. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">One can’t help asking a
few questions about Mary Rankin Cranston Thomas. Of course, many a
nineteenth-century Southern belle extricated herself from society and sought
education and purpose. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">But there’s that
twist—walking away from what seemed to be the passion of her life. Especially
when she had achieved such success.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps Cranston’s change
was simple: she answered a second calling. </span><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-55417051508384961532023-04-12T07:44:00.003-04:002023-04-12T09:11:42.344-04:00Story of Henry Littlefield - Part 2<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvsqD2vJ6NlLnGbWAlUIVgjWMIY4Utktdt8rNY1OD-oUorO5dWMytSGhTEcbuePemq84_1ErXOLZsaYJoJDTSQswzEYleoFHckmaSn0Xj_38UGqQJ83jHzcbHn7mR3vScKlJXXOokrYLpnnfpYWv2evfC8CQPkDjnK2U3DOyCDY1DhdMLohhfoMeqRg/s620/Littlefield9.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="340" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvsqD2vJ6NlLnGbWAlUIVgjWMIY4Utktdt8rNY1OD-oUorO5dWMytSGhTEcbuePemq84_1ErXOLZsaYJoJDTSQswzEYleoFHckmaSn0Xj_38UGqQJ83jHzcbHn7mR3vScKlJXXOokrYLpnnfpYWv2evfC8CQPkDjnK2U3DOyCDY1DhdMLohhfoMeqRg/w219-h400/Littlefield9.jpg" width="219" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Henry Littlefield's grandfather, Walter Littlefield,<br />was an eminent journalist, editor, and author.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The journalist Walter
Littlefield could tackle any subject.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Emile
Zola: Novelist and Reformer - 1902<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Russia
in Revolution - 1905<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The
Birth of United South Africa a Unique Event - 1910<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Should
We Build a Channel Tunnel? - 1917<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Dante
in Art and Translation - 1922<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">This list is the tip of
the iceberg. In beautiful economical prose, Littlefield wrote
about the American West, the charms of New England; war, European politics, the
Wahhabis’ 1924 invasion of the Hejaz . . .
</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Walter Littlefield was a
reporter and editor at the </span><i style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">New York Times </i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">(1898-1941), a literary
correspondent for the </span><i style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Chicago Record-Herald </i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">(1903-1913), and the author,
editor or translator of books about James Russell Lowell, Dante, Lord Byron,
and Captain Alfred Dreyfus.</span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8Vq6IOdChU1UYNOe0zkXuk2B5P2D51SDCXNoM2nNZr4AEFmZU0xKkEoL0D5xEDK4YC3LAweF6KLAW838PMnfvKT3J3UuNTd62U4e9QlmTBtXMNjHN7JC3ndKzglOCWZuZ4pd_FiGHVSiaAJUuRy_jkyLANuCxa3FStKGd19_egzANFEwU0KCPsADjw/s1500/Littlefield11.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1025" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8Vq6IOdChU1UYNOe0zkXuk2B5P2D51SDCXNoM2nNZr4AEFmZU0xKkEoL0D5xEDK4YC3LAweF6KLAW838PMnfvKT3J3UuNTd62U4e9QlmTBtXMNjHN7JC3ndKzglOCWZuZ4pd_FiGHVSiaAJUuRy_jkyLANuCxa3FStKGd19_egzANFEwU0KCPsADjw/w438-h640/Littlefield11.jpg" width="438" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Littlefield's best-known story about Dreyfus<br />appeared in <i>Munsey's Magazine </i>in 1899.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">His coverage of the
Dreyfus Affair rendered him an expert on the case and enabled him to make the
leap from his native Boston to New York City in 1898. He and his elegant,
Italian-born wife, Luigina Pagani Littlefield, would live in Greenwich Village
until the 1940s.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Born in 1867, a descendant of English colonists, Walter began publishing his own short stories in 1889,
the year he entered Harvard to study languages and history. On the side he
tutored college-bound students in comparative literature, fine arts, and
languages.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMD3S22h_v6ib0D0SE_EuS-bUEPlOUXvp3kVZCbwuh4Zi5CHDc-mjU2I-1FBh39y1upAzDCRwvZTwz2Q9bC8VtlvfZYs94IudN0n_jjZM9Wv438Ff7O2Ncj0CaTbykCKq4i9tM9XtX1ymrkLd9xrqJjHId64n9-zGLU3U9XGJHtZTQm8jZI-DUgIA1g/s544/Littlefield3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="157" data-original-width="544" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMD3S22h_v6ib0D0SE_EuS-bUEPlOUXvp3kVZCbwuh4Zi5CHDc-mjU2I-1FBh39y1upAzDCRwvZTwz2Q9bC8VtlvfZYs94IudN0n_jjZM9Wv438Ff7O2Ncj0CaTbykCKq4i9tM9XtX1ymrkLd9xrqJjHId64n9-zGLU3U9XGJHtZTQm8jZI-DUgIA1g/w400-h115/Littlefield3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">After he graduated from Harvard, Walter Littlefield<br />taught and tutored in Boston.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">By 1893 Walter had
graduated and married Luigina, a “gifted musician with a voice of more than
ordinary richness, educated at the Notre Dame Academy,” the newspapers
reported.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">She was the daughter of
Dr. Joseph Pagani, who studied medicine in Rome and Palermo before immigrating
to the U.S. in 1865. Inexplicably, Pagani received a medal from Dom Pedro II,
the last monarch of Brazil, and was a member of an ancient Russian Aryan
order.</span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEkHLKE3dUBskcqRS-VXDwUf82lSpCI_WpeBria6iUpiZcRi8zABS8qco7nk3gGmHKu7mVcfL4QgDGtJsn2CBwpbGv54AmBwK2s3uFNHQoE9NgxLK31aRIOey0ZhLTBftC0hZQ47a6KflgyLYyGZnJrUaFy9Cj3M96PvDJj8aRR4C98BEYzEmCGZW-dA/s897/Luigina%201890.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="897" data-original-width="791" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEkHLKE3dUBskcqRS-VXDwUf82lSpCI_WpeBria6iUpiZcRi8zABS8qco7nk3gGmHKu7mVcfL4QgDGtJsn2CBwpbGv54AmBwK2s3uFNHQoE9NgxLK31aRIOey0ZhLTBftC0hZQ47a6KflgyLYyGZnJrUaFy9Cj3M96PvDJj8aRR4C98BEYzEmCGZW-dA/s320/Luigina%201890.jpg" width="282" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Surely influenced by
Luigina, whose West Twelfth Street salon drew the American and European
intelligentsia, Walter developed a passion for Italian culture and politics. He
fell hard for Mussolini in 1921, corresponding regularly with </span><i style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Dux</i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">, as he
called him, and reporting for the </span><i style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Times</i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">:</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Mussolini is being called a dictator. But
so was Garibaldi, when he seemed to be carrying on war in defiance of the
orders of King Victor Emmanuel. It is easy to mistake, in times of political
turmoil, the words of a disciplinarian for those of a dictator. Like Garibaldi,
Mussolini is a severe disciplinarian, but no dictator. How can he be when he
swears to recognize the authority of his Majesty?</span><span style="font-family: georgia; text-align: left;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">One year later, the <i>Times</i>
published Walter’s poem, “Fascisti.” In appreciation of the poem, Victor
Emmanuel declared Walter a <a name="_Hlk105322376">Commendatore della Corona
d’Italia </a>(Knight of the Crown of Italy) in 1933. </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XFP5spHHQff_cRh7wv-lNJCBqf4an6wDoBYzE7-OyKvZkbgnSCrMDb6xB-QiAJ-oINRRqnVGDNlV07nJtkrd54y-WFQkY-P-_QOEVYWb7V2h7LA7UUT5EOH7kfKpu8Ug8hpoOYlQKJz8N44rzal0pgBw6Mx_mz2ir2RILLdmaI7kVodEwJi-9GwIwg/s473/Littlefield%20poem.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="422" data-original-width="473" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XFP5spHHQff_cRh7wv-lNJCBqf4an6wDoBYzE7-OyKvZkbgnSCrMDb6xB-QiAJ-oINRRqnVGDNlV07nJtkrd54y-WFQkY-P-_QOEVYWb7V2h7LA7UUT5EOH7kfKpu8Ug8hpoOYlQKJz8N44rzal0pgBw6Mx_mz2ir2RILLdmaI7kVodEwJi-9GwIwg/s320/Littlefield%20poem.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Littlefield wrote his poem in the early 1920s.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Between his knighting, the
Reichstag fire, and other momentous events, Walter must have been unusually preoccupied in 1933 when he and Luigina became the grandparents of Henry Miller
Littlefield, son of their son Henry Mario Littlefield.</span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Actually, Henry Miller Littlefield
was the second child of Henry Mario Littlefield, who had a daughter by a
previous marriage and would soon head to Reno to divorce his second wife, Elizabeth, mother of newborn Henry.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"></span></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoUDC-z90xmduYQj5cIuxZQchOUzbeUfDEqQosJm5TM2Lt2eUuSc3zLepUszuDSYqagEfy8WPzOXgoiVkRodCeYLKTG8129H_6OhzpMjCPnYSSTbLaN8O0XWTt5AQgxOPS8j2a51ZTgqTsNbMIjg6kxdQoNGrsTqYrJFmyXCRkvTKKQozw1hWvkOEvQQ/s1042/Littlefield2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1042" data-original-width="546" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoUDC-z90xmduYQj5cIuxZQchOUzbeUfDEqQosJm5TM2Lt2eUuSc3zLepUszuDSYqagEfy8WPzOXgoiVkRodCeYLKTG8129H_6OhzpMjCPnYSSTbLaN8O0XWTt5AQgxOPS8j2a51ZTgqTsNbMIjg6kxdQoNGrsTqYrJFmyXCRkvTKKQozw1hWvkOEvQQ/w210-h400/Littlefield2.jpg" width="210" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Reno, 1933: "wild scenes were enacted at the<br />office of County Clerk 'Boss' Beemer."</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Luigina died in 1945 and
Walter in 1948, by which time they had left West Twelfth Street and moved,
oddly, to the town of New Canaan, Connecticut. By then, Henry Miller
Littlefield was a teenager.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Since he told students
that he grew up without a father, one wonders whether he ever met his paternal
grandparents. He grew up to become an imaginative historian and teacher of whom
Walter and Luigina would have been proud (even if they disagreed about
Mussolini).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Please see previous post, "Story of Henry Littlefield," March 8, 2023.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span></b></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></a><span style="font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-14957357358471342122023-03-08T07:25:00.001-05:002023-03-08T21:57:44.335-05:00Story of Henry Littlefield<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoyAmdxpqGm87sShX6sqH77WdvDbA82w5ySAI6J2xiBDSLYweRMo7lJ5HLoqbL1nt766TxA894pluk681zNnxh29u7khGD0f1VZk43kUDxrgRPpet9vUe8ZgHr5DRqSE1x35e2-BXLaCys7Df7dcepV9dsGVCy00snMYxmhyJmd9PZ4Yi0IEz6c9xlUw/s378/Wizard.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="378" data-original-width="289" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoyAmdxpqGm87sShX6sqH77WdvDbA82w5ySAI6J2xiBDSLYweRMo7lJ5HLoqbL1nt766TxA894pluk681zNnxh29u7khGD0f1VZk43kUDxrgRPpet9vUe8ZgHr5DRqSE1x35e2-BXLaCys7Df7dcepV9dsGVCy00snMYxmhyJmd9PZ4Yi0IEz6c9xlUw/s320/Wizard.jpg" width="245" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">During the 1960s when my brother and I
were growing up in Mount Vernon, N.Y., our parents and their friends occasionally
mentioned Henry Littlefield, who taught American history to the city’s high
school students.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">It was wonderful that such
an imaginative young man counted among a faculty still inhabited by Victorian
women who were creeping into the modern era.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">In 1964, Henry Littlefield
published “The Wizard of Oz: Parable on Populism” in the <i>American Quarterly.</i><sup>1</sup><i>
</i>This article was the first to interpret L. Frank Baum’s 1900 children’s
book as a tale of politics and society in late nineteenth-century America. Nearly
30 years later, Littlefield recalled the summer of 1963:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Toward the end of July, I was reading the
opening chapters of <i>The Wizard </i>to my two daughters, then ages five and
two. At the same time, in the [summer school] history course I taught, we were
going through the Populist period and the 1890s. I lived just a few blocks from
the school and remember running to class the next day, to my classroom on that
hot, airless third floor.<sup>2</sup> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;">Excitedly, Littlefield
told the students: “Guess what? In </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;">The Wizard of Oz </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;">. . . Dorothy walks
on a yellow brick road . . .” He suggested that the Scarecrow was a farmer who
felt stupid and the Tin Woodman a laborer dehumanized by industrialization. Dorothy
and her little band, marching toward the Emerald City, represented Coxey’s
Army, and the Wizard could be any president, really, but likely William
McKinley.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKqLxShjSg72CWvT7IyKJZ_i2nMk5zSurbOOA75TW0mLLofBwJpBptW3qo1DeO6Fw0AhccqjlL5XMlCPmqstaUJjt2TcTT6q4T6xzx7mmq26R6ggOnEc0YQYIk_HXFNLZ84xSDLp2ki55hgMrI2ZE5Di4eGDF_hluKKJXE0rn7Ybq1jcbMSrYp5MZhg/s375/AB%20Davis%20HS%20postcard.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="238" data-original-width="375" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKqLxShjSg72CWvT7IyKJZ_i2nMk5zSurbOOA75TW0mLLofBwJpBptW3qo1DeO6Fw0AhccqjlL5XMlCPmqstaUJjt2TcTT6q4T6xzx7mmq26R6ggOnEc0YQYIk_HXFNLZ84xSDLp2ki55hgMrI2ZE5Di4eGDF_hluKKJXE0rn7Ybq1jcbMSrYp5MZhg/w400-h254/AB%20Davis%20HS%20postcard.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">A. B. Davis High School, around 1915</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;">The students were enthused
but the article languished until 1977, when Gore Vidal wrote about it in the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;">New
York Review of Books.</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;"> By that time, Littlefield had earned his PhD at Columbia University and moved on to Amherst College and then California where he
taught at Golden Gate University and the Naval Postgraduate School.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">By the mid-1980s,
Littlefield’s thesis about <i>Oz</i> and populism had developed its own
academic niche. Some of its proponents scrutinized <i>Oz </i>as an allegory in which each
word, each moment, was loaded with symbolism. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">And they were self-righteous to boot,
in the opinion of Michael Gessel, then editor of the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Baum Bugle</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">. Like
Littlefield, he regarded the book as a parable on populism that happened to
serve as an excellent teaching tool. Both men dismissed “outlandish”
interpretations.</span><sup style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">3</sup></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Born in Manhattan in 1933, Littlefield grew up without a father, he once confided to a student.<sup>4</sup> But he
does not seem to have discussed his family, which was full of intrigue and achievement.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Around 1935, Henry’s mother,
Elizabeth Miller Littlefield, divorced his father, Henry Mario Littlefield, in Reno. As was often the case in these sticky situations, Elizabeth’s parents invited their daughter and grandson to move into their brownstone on
West 148<sup>th</sup> Street. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Jesse Preston Miller, known as Dr. J. Preston
Miller, ruled the household. The son of a Greenville, S.C. grocer, Miller had
made his way north around 1900, married, and established a successful medical practice.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3e9-HLK4oT7jd-pjc52wpa7jUvM4SUqzX_aQAGbqFgaJP5TMCk219w3DVtVpq9j-GN_-9y1voBnt3Oyi02tAFczgrjbcscC_HDX_6oKftWTX-ylQCUidNXYVbbaojwQ_J4s7mWjXEG0pnnD0I1fGsOhhlmOywjatqxogTgtqNqw4iJa5DLs_5sFOLA/s788/J%20Preston%20Miller.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3e9-HLK4oT7jd-pjc52wpa7jUvM4SUqzX_aQAGbqFgaJP5TMCk219w3DVtVpq9j-GN_-9y1voBnt3Oyi02tAFczgrjbcscC_HDX_6oKftWTX-ylQCUidNXYVbbaojwQ_J4s7mWjXEG0pnnD0I1fGsOhhlmOywjatqxogTgtqNqw4iJa5DLs_5sFOLA/s320/J%20Preston%20Miller.png" width="208" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">J. Preston Miller, M.D.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Henry's father may have disappeared, but the boy's paternal grandparents lived on West Twelfth Street in Greenwich Village. It cannot be known whether he ever trekked downtown to visit them. What a time that would have been!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">In 1940, Walter
Littlefield was at the peak of his influence as foreign editor of the <i>New
York Times </i>although his wife Luigina’s fabulous Manhattan salon had wound down in
the late twenties . . . <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisdBNIMGOeoUXmyco91zH5v-aCXFA7AuuE2sE9h3hOsVbttcjXRRYwlQ5wBiwd5GgI7ATsGP7L4JnL2P_B5bHijGRxz5jqhl1_Ow8w3v1EptxLakiCkhrggRjuaRN6XvLf4vAffaCCF_x_1wnjzV9X9akGYvOGIXdt8JFyR4zXrUtTMqqc2yMSc8YIA/s861/Littlefield10.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="861" data-original-width="780" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisdBNIMGOeoUXmyco91zH5v-aCXFA7AuuE2sE9h3hOsVbttcjXRRYwlQ5wBiwd5GgI7ATsGP7L4JnL2P_B5bHijGRxz5jqhl1_Ow8w3v1EptxLakiCkhrggRjuaRN6XvLf4vAffaCCF_x_1wnjzV9X9akGYvOGIXdt8JFyR4zXrUtTMqqc2yMSc8YIA/w181-h200/Littlefield10.jpg" width="181" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Walter Littlefield</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><i>To be continued.</i><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 10pt;">1 Henry M. Littlefield, “The
Wizard of Oz: Parable on Populism,” <i>American Quarterly</i>, Spring 1964,
47-58.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 10pt;">2 Henry M. Littlefield,
“The Wizard of Allegory,” <i>The Baum Bugle</i>, Spring 1992, 24-25.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 10pt;">3 Michael Gessel, “Tale of
a Parable,” <i>The Baum Bugle</i>, Spring 1992, 19-23.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 10pt;">4 Richard J. Garfunkel,</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;">https://www.richardjgarfunkel.com/2015/01/29/656/ </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-themecolor: text1; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">*<i>The
Baum Bugle</i>, founded in 1957, is the official journal of the International
Wizard of Oz Club: https://www.ozclub.org/publications/the-baum-bugle/ </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-91622076898156804312023-03-01T08:53:00.001-05:002023-03-01T08:53:25.250-05:00Snow Shadows<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT85_qAWEF3voHrCvZpeSSk8vawTUrfc7hajCjG5Ij-YATmkhEjsu5CIZBFq4zoy015XCPDhrr_q7mEYptMhgXyNjl3JGjrt5lDSMQGMmgd-BA614ibizWxbcqQilERANNUiZNdzanImi5CwQkxj5_sK0sSUs3SS90D81xhWKOrJVgUvC9ChL6fcEmSg/s640/snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT85_qAWEF3voHrCvZpeSSk8vawTUrfc7hajCjG5Ij-YATmkhEjsu5CIZBFq4zoy015XCPDhrr_q7mEYptMhgXyNjl3JGjrt5lDSMQGMmgd-BA614ibizWxbcqQilERANNUiZNdzanImi5CwQkxj5_sK0sSUs3SS90D81xhWKOrJVgUvC9ChL6fcEmSg/w640-h480/snow.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: xx-small;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-58728003848567804352023-02-08T07:23:00.002-05:002023-02-09T06:33:47.291-05:00Understanding Herma<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMCAHQFz9W-koFwU2VWAOkdwD-TE9LGDyfKPB-jsp3g8wNENoW-kDejnDk3VvRzf6dDCDjw2qMVwT6i-UnFtb2wfX-91Tdh3y12iKf2EkTt8iKFeQBmKEoIxxxaOgQoxjGSON1eJcmiEiWkh0aFC2-5W-TWm5Twgs0xL-DFEDDaDjAj719bZ4gAmj7lg/s640/Herma7.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="320" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMCAHQFz9W-koFwU2VWAOkdwD-TE9LGDyfKPB-jsp3g8wNENoW-kDejnDk3VvRzf6dDCDjw2qMVwT6i-UnFtb2wfX-91Tdh3y12iKf2EkTt8iKFeQBmKEoIxxxaOgQoxjGSON1eJcmiEiWkh0aFC2-5W-TWm5Twgs0xL-DFEDDaDjAj719bZ4gAmj7lg/w200-h400/Herma7.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Herma Wager around 1919</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Herma was the fourteenth
of fifteen children born to Robert and Harriet Wager of Ohio. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Just after the American Civil
War ended, Rob, as he was called, left his childhood home in Parham, Canada. He
traveled 500 miles along lakes Ontario and Erie to reach Toledo, Ohio. Then he
pushed forty miles farther west to Stryker, a railroad town incorporated in 1855.
</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Within a few years he met
Harriet Justus of Defiance, Ohio, and they wed in 1869 when she was sixteen and
he twenty-three. His older sister, Jen, who stayed in Canada, seems to
have never recovered from Rob’s departure nor those of anyone she knew—whether to the
blur of America or to heaven.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HItpqPbS0HzRJM_l_dEx2gA63ADYIhw1aBs0FZJC7bgOQKirxSbCzkKDjJNfFumsmRj53Nn7JZSoG7AaV5jiAhQThxSZ3hGlIT7PeaxpHcUHGCrFxLFngxG3IjsbJueShNqXeJr3mrqtMLqUxfKU55D5UM5IKaORwu_UecO2oGJeIhw7rcsfGyDdWw/s595/Herma5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="476" data-original-width="595" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HItpqPbS0HzRJM_l_dEx2gA63ADYIhw1aBs0FZJC7bgOQKirxSbCzkKDjJNfFumsmRj53Nn7JZSoG7AaV5jiAhQThxSZ3hGlIT7PeaxpHcUHGCrFxLFngxG3IjsbJueShNqXeJr3mrqtMLqUxfKU55D5UM5IKaORwu_UecO2oGJeIhw7rcsfGyDdWw/w400-h320/Herma5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">In a series of small,
black-edged letters, which arrived in black-edged envelopes addressed in her
spidery script, Jen grieved for twenty years. The worst was Ma, in 1881:</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">I miss her every place I look, I can see
something to remind me of her something that she has made or fixed and it seems
almost more than I can bear, I am alone so much, too, Pa and Hiram are in at
mealtimes and evenings and the rest of the time I am alone. I think if I had
someone to talk to and keep me from thinking it would not be so hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">One year later Pa, his
eyes streaming with tears, took to his bed and never got out. Next to go were the
pretty, young schoolmarm and the neighbors’ children. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Thus there was always bad
news from Jen except when she went overnight to Kingston and bought new
trimmings to fix up an old dress.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">It’s not that death didn’t
follow Rob to Ohio.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Herma came along in 1896, more
than a decade after her sisters Estella, Florence, and Luella, her brother
Charles, and a baby boy who didn’t live long enough to be named, had passed.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">By now the family had
moved to Wauseon, where Rob no longer worked as a farm laborer but as a section
foreman for a manufacturer of plumbing equipment.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">In Wauseon the houses
marched up and down the street, close together with picket fences between them and
front porches where friends gathered. The turn of the century approached and
the family felt happy. In 1900, when Harriet was forty-seven years old, she
gave birth to her last child, George.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkuI0SghIU_vEGE8t8nbIJblr6opTaXKDl7LkBQNXKmk_AYPt60Tfcw5cg8UvqJh4AI7ULO80Tb3mfTrSP45fHCCykih8RV9gbcwS56YMopxI0lDNOTe980iNXjfUGHbRMdNF3S2cLy-ieOorRBxDBONV_euF0nm75Edp6MYgjZbksh4pKdcpnq_1SCg/s432/Herma11.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="432" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkuI0SghIU_vEGE8t8nbIJblr6opTaXKDl7LkBQNXKmk_AYPt60Tfcw5cg8UvqJh4AI7ULO80Tb3mfTrSP45fHCCykih8RV9gbcwS56YMopxI0lDNOTe980iNXjfUGHbRMdNF3S2cLy-ieOorRBxDBONV_euF0nm75Edp6MYgjZbksh4pKdcpnq_1SCg/w400-h278/Herma11.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The Wager family in Wauseon, early twentieth century.<br />Herma sits to her mother's right and Bob stands, far left.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">But the happiness fled. Rob
died in 1901 and George died in 1902. He caught typhoid fever from his brother
Clyde but Clyde recovered and George—dear baby, he was just starting to talk.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">“Oh we miss him so much,” Harriet
wrote to Jen, still brooding in Canada. She put on her own black costume and
wore it for the rest of her life. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Herma had never been a
smiling kind of person but now, when the camera captured her out in the yard in
a white voile dress, she looked distant and sad. Only the sight of her brother
Robert, whom she adored, could cheer her.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGRxWglDc-9NgjDnHVVsOqBBrcouf6rCZLzDYsKhg1yMDMs9uyOVMkihoFeL58KkbyYeoz9jcERDVh7RQTCtmLzTqRDPMiVPdFoUpbVqGjzCRc_1LiJMKPcZL4Q-h0F-Co7_hXz3nTS-xDKNf_XDtw3j6_6Eif31AreLoVZODy2QWxN3aZryaeo9iTKA/s452/Herma4.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="452" data-original-width="339" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGRxWglDc-9NgjDnHVVsOqBBrcouf6rCZLzDYsKhg1yMDMs9uyOVMkihoFeL58KkbyYeoz9jcERDVh7RQTCtmLzTqRDPMiVPdFoUpbVqGjzCRc_1LiJMKPcZL4Q-h0F-Co7_hXz3nTS-xDKNf_XDtw3j6_6Eif31AreLoVZODy2QWxN3aZryaeo9iTKA/w300-h400/Herma4.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Bob Wager dressed as a cowboy</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Bob, as they called him,
was Herma’s favorite among the Wager brothers: Warren, Sheldon, Foster, Clyde,
Elwood, and Floyd. Three years older than Herma, Bob was her protector and
comforter, her imp who became a handsome, responsible young man.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">He left home in his late
teens, moved to Cleveland and worked for the Willard Storage Battery Company,
an early manufacturer of automobile ignition batteries. Around 1912, amid
skyrocketing demand from car companies, Willard opened plants in Atlanta and
Huntsville. Bob was assigned to the latter.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">The U.S. entered World War
I in April 1917, and three months later Bob enlisted in the Naval Aero Service.
He trained at Pensacola, the nation’s sole naval air station, as a flier and mechanic.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7JoDLLnSR6cBsBqAnopcKgPSjePYte-8NTd1IzrqHb4uH8lLqsEs0ZY27ca3d08pfwahCoeX4Z2U8yiq_xTok5brahhveCUGSH6yTVx81e7Rxmvc9ceEnT8T9113WwHVBWFDdGLW4YmQR4qdZ0paWF7-73XMxNJeZfoQla65ki_XLVP1fvaril5KY2A/s1280/R-6%20Seaplane%20Pensacola%201917.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="980" data-original-width="1280" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7JoDLLnSR6cBsBqAnopcKgPSjePYte-8NTd1IzrqHb4uH8lLqsEs0ZY27ca3d08pfwahCoeX4Z2U8yiq_xTok5brahhveCUGSH6yTVx81e7Rxmvc9ceEnT8T9113WwHVBWFDdGLW4YmQR4qdZ0paWF7-73XMxNJeZfoQla65ki_XLVP1fvaril5KY2A/w400-h306/R-6%20Seaplane%20Pensacola%201917.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">R-6 Seaplane, Pensacola, 1917</span><br />(National Museum of the American Navy)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Aviation was still
primitive. In the U.S., military officers planned to use planes for
observational purposes rather than in combat. Of course, this view changed
quickly when the generals got to Europe. Still, the U.S. never kept up with the allies’ aviation capabilities.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Bob arrived at the newly established
U.S. Naval Air Station in Moutchic, France in December, and within six weeks he
died of cerebrospinal meningitis. Many enlisted men were struck down by tuberculosis,
pneumonia, and meningitis even before the influenza became a pandemic. Bob’s story
is not unusual, perhaps only to the extent that he was the first Wauseon boy to
die in the Great War. He is buried in France.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgch8CQc-ccsQ9IMlgzw6JG8gpfgD4_gBC8jEO-eg5UQ4WLrEoVGLcOTE2_eHI15ayBDEaoLKiwpCMdl-BySjNz9zcVgtp_Z6uoO3DdBFlKn8CMbtJnQEdYGzEX0FceCda6fo4hg9_0_YSQL8Ftwh_cGXK8tyPDmkKTGDrgefHkiYpTZZ-RCk6iijYfag/s633/Herma3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="633" data-original-width="257" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgch8CQc-ccsQ9IMlgzw6JG8gpfgD4_gBC8jEO-eg5UQ4WLrEoVGLcOTE2_eHI15ayBDEaoLKiwpCMdl-BySjNz9zcVgtp_Z6uoO3DdBFlKn8CMbtJnQEdYGzEX0FceCda6fo4hg9_0_YSQL8Ftwh_cGXK8tyPDmkKTGDrgefHkiYpTZZ-RCk6iijYfag/w163-h400/Herma3.jpg" width="163" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">In 1920 Herma married
William Carroll Keenan, a veteran who went by “Cal” during that particular heyday
of nicknames. They had two sons, Bill and Bob, both of whom recalled an
impersonal, detached mother. They couldn’t get away from her fast enough.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">When Bill and Bob grew up
and married, their wives disliked Herma, too. The grandchildren found her visits
uncomfortable.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">So what of Herma? No one
has spoken of her for a half-century or more. There is little reason to tell
her story to each new generation, to make sure her name and face are imprinted
in the minds of her descendants.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Still she demands some
understanding, my husband’s disagreeable grandmother.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">I think that Herma may have suffered from untreated post-partum depression. And she never recovered, even
partway, from her brother Bob’s death nor that of little George who toddled
around the farmhouse and probably was her charge.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Perhaps she saw Bob and
George in the faces of her own sons but could not summon for them the same
depth of feeling. It may be that everything that lived and laughed for Herma was
back, way back before the twentieth century inflicted its blows.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzmw9CD8DZ0C7UXTEH_8CKHqoDKHhXWJETwo-IpuEMjTDU1H9jdslqSG6qeADv7LnltNF9kUkJpfFL1QFUKRymc5so6-3QdgSjHJSDBrrrsBdoDlEx0_OPKhn9nICYn9zgxVD1_qMQOU5mim6rNf7kYFZR1Fq8YaXneLniDTBbURYybMWlETwl75jew/s609/Herma9.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="501" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzmw9CD8DZ0C7UXTEH_8CKHqoDKHhXWJETwo-IpuEMjTDU1H9jdslqSG6qeADv7LnltNF9kUkJpfFL1QFUKRymc5so6-3QdgSjHJSDBrrrsBdoDlEx0_OPKhn9nICYn9zgxVD1_qMQOU5mim6rNf7kYFZR1Fq8YaXneLniDTBbURYybMWlETwl75jew/s320/Herma9.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Harriet Justus Wager died in 1918.<br />As Herma grew older, she came to resemble her mother.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 8pt;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-52258886256357292902023-01-05T15:12:00.000-05:002023-01-05T15:12:44.137-05:00The New One <p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyDQRxz55GzFOy7x7xoJZTWTPBUF4zRcfnqXAtgs3-x0Udxq7k9upyWleZHvvU1QHpnSjz8z6dDtmXzeY6EJgOkhplooxv1STpvWqzhVaqKkFB2Ll5aMxQwsdGrkCWWkLrsKe-2l-xduM3XUabyQWzX9Q5Fhsv2MNUN7FsHQO5CSfqXtlPWeZsuF7drw/s640/MP1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="483" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyDQRxz55GzFOy7x7xoJZTWTPBUF4zRcfnqXAtgs3-x0Udxq7k9upyWleZHvvU1QHpnSjz8z6dDtmXzeY6EJgOkhplooxv1STpvWqzhVaqKkFB2Ll5aMxQwsdGrkCWWkLrsKe-2l-xduM3XUabyQWzX9Q5Fhsv2MNUN7FsHQO5CSfqXtlPWeZsuF7drw/w303-h400/MP1.jpg" width="303" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">My well-worn copy of <i>Mary Poppins and<br />Mary Poppins Comes Back</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I’d better hurry up and write about my
granddaughter before she forgets her story!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">Since she was a few weeks old, C. has been
whispering to the world as if she were confiding great wisdom. Speaking sotto voce in a
just-between-us manner, C. seems to be sharing the secrets of the universe with
anyone who will listen. She reminds me of Annabel.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">Annabel was the youngest of the Banks
children in the “Mary Poppins” books. Readers will have known her only as a baby.
She has been mentioned in a few scholarly essays. Some critics have noted that
her character is profound while others consider her trite. I don’t care either
way.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">From the first time I read about Annabel, I
was hooked. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: georgia; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5OAnNT2DaRb8oFv43SMjinNv-co_EqPAj-8XF1MNR-63cVtee9P23zEpHWBh_BpnNFrvCp50J07Xmtd1cSJWF5dRjgra2mAhUnGUnlLdtnrhDvM5uwyxMFNhwrKeyffpfF7Z-bFKMhZRrAItthjKpmbZzn5_rTA1Tp7kkHdOlMKg7XJMJLdWq7GCrtw/s640/MP5.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5OAnNT2DaRb8oFv43SMjinNv-co_EqPAj-8XF1MNR-63cVtee9P23zEpHWBh_BpnNFrvCp50J07Xmtd1cSJWF5dRjgra2mAhUnGUnlLdtnrhDvM5uwyxMFNhwrKeyffpfF7Z-bFKMhZRrAItthjKpmbZzn5_rTA1Tp7kkHdOlMKg7XJMJLdWq7GCrtw/w400-h300/MP5.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Inside cover of <i>Mary Poppins</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The 1964 Disney film is familiar to
millions who may not realize that it is based on a book </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">by
an English writer named P. L. Travers. Onscreen, the main characters are Jane
and Michael Banks, their parents, and Mary Poppins.</span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">If you’ve watched the film but never read
the book, you would not know about the twins, John and Barbara. The truth is
that they are rather colorless and it is understandable that Disney did not
include them.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Annabel is different. She came along in Travers’
sequel, </span><i style="font-family: georgia;">Mary Poppins Comes Back</i><span style="font-family: georgia;">, published in 1935. This book opens with
the unsupervised Banks children flying a kite in the park. The kite becomes
lost in a cloud and won’t let itself be reeled in until bystanders gather to
pull as hard as they can on the string.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Suddenly, an object bursts from the cloud
and slowly descends to earth as the children make out a familiar shape.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">“Ah!” Jane gave a shout of triumph. “It <i>is
</i>she!”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">And so it is. Mary Poppins has returned and
will stay till the chain on her necklace breaks, she says.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Halfway through her second stay, Mary
Poppins is handed an infant, Annabel, immediately after she is born to
Mrs. Banks.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span style="font-size: large;">Presiding over Annabel in the children’s
nursery, Mary Poppins is joined periodically by an impertinent starling who
lives on top of the chimney and joyfully regards the infant as one of his own
fledglings. One day the starling brings along a young bird, who
asks where Annabel came from. </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: georgia; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfFmfkYAS33DYgthAQPPBFpxQdG04Qqe7Bg3j5aW_X-I9zM_eLLGJu6m4KyRxlF-xxGixg7gaM2uO3AaE3vWjSXymtS0o8KsgHfKkQAdQ_LidhUQM8SSxRS_L6DIb8EhzsLP7z2VS5a1XhI7e6fLA9SuoMwVsV5NDvT8cAmF1Gf3QaGDNbIHbsW6fcHw/s640/MP2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfFmfkYAS33DYgthAQPPBFpxQdG04Qqe7Bg3j5aW_X-I9zM_eLLGJu6m4KyRxlF-xxGixg7gaM2uO3AaE3vWjSXymtS0o8KsgHfKkQAdQ_LidhUQM8SSxRS_L6DIb8EhzsLP7z2VS5a1XhI7e6fLA9SuoMwVsV5NDvT8cAmF1Gf3QaGDNbIHbsW6fcHw/w640-h480/MP2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">First pages of "The New One," chapter about Annabel</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">In response, Annabel gestures with her hands—just like
my granddaughter—and explains to the starlings:</span><span style="font-family: georgia; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large; text-indent: 0.5in;">"I came from the Dark where all things have their beginning . . . I come from <span> </span>the sea and its tides . . . I come from the sun and its brightness . . . Slowly I moved at first . . . always sleeping and dreaming. I remembered all I had been and I thought of all I shall be."</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">Later, when Jane and Michael and the twins crowd
around Annabel, they ask where she came from. Happily, Annabel embarks on her
story: “I came from the Dark—” But Jane interrupts.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Such funny little sounds! I wish she could
talk and tell us.” Annabel kicks her legs and starts to cry. After all, she <i>is</i>
telling them where she came from.</span><span style="font-family: georgia; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">My granddaughter manages to captivate every
person who leans over and smiles at her. We listen raptly although we—grown, fumbling
humans—do not understand what she is telling us. Whatever it may be, she expresses
a certain urgency in sharing her thoughts.</span><span style="font-family: georgia; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Perhaps, like Annabel, she is saying: “I
heard the stars singing as I came and felt warm wings about me.” But she will
not recall her journey forever, as the starling realizes one day. With a tear in his eye, he exclaims
to Mary Poppins:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">“She’s forgotten it all. I knew she would.
But, ah, my dear, what a pity!”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large; text-indent: 0.5in;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: georgia; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzC2Y0Kcr9Xt9DXsDqwftZ7AmwOaU9aiYixHxsyp1HV0Clq1AVOMk1KycUiCmCSDHW6rwG8fbSVWyjFBCSN3-sUXYblch_LxsQCKvzp6lEVgIREBrB6jRpEIEciH7-UpNLIYCFdht-Me9re4SVvHqII7H8WDoovxaL58c2BnlQEPLuIv0gLuC0c98MA/s640/MP3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzC2Y0Kcr9Xt9DXsDqwftZ7AmwOaU9aiYixHxsyp1HV0Clq1AVOMk1KycUiCmCSDHW6rwG8fbSVWyjFBCSN3-sUXYblch_LxsQCKvzp6lEVgIREBrB6jRpEIEciH7-UpNLIYCFdht-Me9re4SVvHqII7H8WDoovxaL58c2BnlQEPLuIv0gLuC0c98MA/w400-h300/MP3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">P. L. Travers' 1996 obituary, <i>New York Times</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">During the 1980s, as she entered her own
80s, the famously private Travers sat down to discuss the origin of Mary Poppins.
The nanny was not a character she invented, Travers insisted; Mary Poppins grew
out of the author’s longstanding interest in myths, fables, and rites of passage.</span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">“I think if she comes from anywhere that
has a name, it is out of myth,” she told the <i>Paris Review </i>in 1982.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And myth has been my study and joy ever since—oh, the age, I
would think, of three. I’ve studied it all my life. No culture can
satisfactorily move along its forward course without its myths, which are its
teachings, its fundamental dealing with the truth of things, and the one
reality that underlies everything. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">In a 1988 essay, Travers described Annabel’s
story perfectly: “There are worlds beyond worlds and times beyond times, all of
them true, all of them real, and all of them (as children know) penetrating
each other.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span style="font-size: large;">Indeed, the “Mary Poppins” books delve deep
into symbols, mysticism, and transcendence. We just don’t realize it because
Travers was such a good storyteller. I hope my granddaughter will be one, too.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUoqtRuLlJjxQI0J1JQsVU2AS3KooHUT04e_dx4bwRd5_3taxLGu37BXxai7hep5AfCA9ZZWQOazjwYt4u6lQT6SDuPtwAgYRHiGovZDX9s9p0aKoNxxbaqF2Z82qQsF2IO9IH_M2sQTR6Eu66gFRnMiJt3JOPWTw3NXCS1mxnZwGWWqoYTNfsN7p-bw/s640/MP4.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="445" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUoqtRuLlJjxQI0J1JQsVU2AS3KooHUT04e_dx4bwRd5_3taxLGu37BXxai7hep5AfCA9ZZWQOazjwYt4u6lQT6SDuPtwAgYRHiGovZDX9s9p0aKoNxxbaqF2Z82qQsF2IO9IH_M2sQTR6Eu66gFRnMiJt3JOPWTw3NXCS1mxnZwGWWqoYTNfsN7p-bw/w223-h320/MP4.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Many dissertations and books offer<br />analyses of the <i>Mary Poppins </i>books.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/" style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</a></p><br /><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-17803893927679393172022-12-15T07:54:00.002-05:002022-12-15T07:54:33.246-05:00December Sunrise<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrr5v7FwPus6Th2-S3d3VBSisGC2akSJ9Fxpbp_fGc1MXbph-OdWBe5-eAJbozNu7P4lWSXLJAX3T3opASZqMlfnGMZNlGDQVIE116MTI1K1ujKFfCf5WsTuTpv7GusUf8uGEjeovfQnENpzzfh0H4WySrbM_zOXnHMhHeM2VokVp78AqfAVNa_aWaSQ/s640/December%20sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrr5v7FwPus6Th2-S3d3VBSisGC2akSJ9Fxpbp_fGc1MXbph-OdWBe5-eAJbozNu7P4lWSXLJAX3T3opASZqMlfnGMZNlGDQVIE116MTI1K1ujKFfCf5WsTuTpv7GusUf8uGEjeovfQnENpzzfh0H4WySrbM_zOXnHMhHeM2VokVp78AqfAVNa_aWaSQ/w480-h640/December%20sunrise.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-49364926711778052092022-11-09T13:00:00.001-05:002022-11-09T13:03:36.760-05:00Chasing Charles Hemstreet<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhix1St2ijTzspPQ2oM-ZPNlmEkzL_wIbRrF-Y_yc4qCHS4Og322osoDg-edF6vvUbHXfPazToK8ogpFjgsbFi2_j3xSZP4BVMIVYl3IfDaw-nAwbxlGa6NLPgAfIGz9EUwNLFl9Pli9U1KwgnY7fgdIp0DIXT2QBqTiAvObzBdjPazPbUP6dviZrbdfQ/s1200/CH-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhix1St2ijTzspPQ2oM-ZPNlmEkzL_wIbRrF-Y_yc4qCHS4Og322osoDg-edF6vvUbHXfPazToK8ogpFjgsbFi2_j3xSZP4BVMIVYl3IfDaw-nAwbxlGa6NLPgAfIGz9EUwNLFl9Pli9U1KwgnY7fgdIp0DIXT2QBqTiAvObzBdjPazPbUP6dviZrbdfQ/w266-h400/CH-1.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Charles Hemstreet, 1900s</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Up in Buffalo, N.Y., Lake
Erie narrows like a funnel into the Niagara River. Even before the Erie Canal opened
in 1825 and through the nineteenth century, a shipbuilding industry flourished
on the American side of the river.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Charles Hemstreet’s father,
William, was a Buffalo ship carpenter who helped build some of the steamers
that plied Lake Erie carrying freight and passengers. William’s oldest son,
Felix, became a ship carpenter’s apprentice at the age of fourteen.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">But Charles, born in 1866,
had greater aspirations. Although he advanced no farther in school than sixth
grade, Charles loved to read newspapers and books about history. Around 1885, he
went south to New York City to look for a job that would suit his
interests.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">During these years, the
city was home to at least fifteen daily English language newspapers. Charles worked
as a police reporter at a time when the department was at its most corrupt. The
job required much hanging around headquarters on Mulberry Street. Charles
stayed a few years, then became night manager of the Associated Press, a
position he held for a decade. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VwXTlnwPm2M/Y0XB6T6mlAI/AAAAAAAANt4/V7PLQcoa1uIWBXY8C7oxdijNidmpPkJgACNcBGAsYHQ/s727/CH-6.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="727" data-original-width="583" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VwXTlnwPm2M/Y0XB6T6mlAI/AAAAAAAANt4/V7PLQcoa1uIWBXY8C7oxdijNidmpPkJgACNcBGAsYHQ/w321-h400/CH-6.jpg" width="321" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">New York City Police Headquarters, 1890s<br />when Theodore Roosevelt was Commissioner</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Everything seemed to come
his way, this foppish young man with a poet’s hair, dark and wavy, who liked to
assume dramatic poses.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">An officer of the New York
Press Club, Charles often visited a shaky old building on Spruce Street, off
Newspaper Row near City Hall Park, to carouse with fellow members of the
notorious Blue Pencil Club. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazZRcp3o508Z5ER6Lak4eoPq7JyvykB5v4-BWhWk8dcTn8akZk7oJQO7Dq15YQLx5xyPMUdP88Ke6WjJzCYU3PSoy6h-qcW3ZgY8gQ2wyolaNEKL7sCag_uM3pbh_y97XhPrn47w_GELrSuY1UBndXufszhKz8buYLEQxhE1DXG7_9E1_86FjnlDOzQ/s457/Blue%20Pencil%20Club.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="355" data-original-width="457" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazZRcp3o508Z5ER6Lak4eoPq7JyvykB5v4-BWhWk8dcTn8akZk7oJQO7Dq15YQLx5xyPMUdP88Ke6WjJzCYU3PSoy6h-qcW3ZgY8gQ2wyolaNEKL7sCag_uM3pbh_y97XhPrn47w_GELrSuY1UBndXufszhKz8buYLEQxhE1DXG7_9E1_86FjnlDOzQ/w400-h311/Blue%20Pencil%20Club.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Blue Pencil Club members at play</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">He’d bound up and down the
stairs with a bunch of mischievous, irreverent reporters, editors, writers,
cartoonists, and illustrators. They published a bawdy short-lived magazine and
ran all over town drinking and declaiming. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Charles’s wife, Marie
Meinell, daughter of a grumpy Civil War veteran from Oyster Bay, also joined the
Blue Pencil Club. Not only did Marie qualify as a published author (of insipid
poetry), but she was mischievous, too.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">In 1893, quarantined in a
hospital with scarlet fever, Marie decided to escape by sliding down a rope to
the street. Traveling under the name “Edith Fish” because she thought she might
be sent to prison for running away, Marie raced off to Jersey City and
Philadelphia. Finally she made her way to the Adirondacks where Charles came to
comfort her and presumably did not catch scarlet fever. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Charles was just 34 when
he announced his retirement from journalism. According to a widely published
notice, he would now devote himself to writing books. His first one, <i>Nooks &
Corners of Old New </i>York, was published by Scribner’s in 1899, followed by <i>The
Story of Manhattan </i>(1901), <i>When Old New York was Young </i>(1902), and <i>Literary
New York </i>(1903).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4w_LwUmtu94jWzAgdj0jul65EhjTx_8yarK4qJJ-T2IttfO5N3eCywXHpty6tOIjtw1aduCuSgZb0oAtEWkInQNFyvDqW58SKgd3hrgGBhxKRtJ7-ZxyaBvbALVY67A-qwm9BZxL0C0Kp9sG41snC5js5WEItaOjIa0I23P9YgTIvzqeHR4qqkHfgOQ/s1331/CH-4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1331" data-original-width="884" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4w_LwUmtu94jWzAgdj0jul65EhjTx_8yarK4qJJ-T2IttfO5N3eCywXHpty6tOIjtw1aduCuSgZb0oAtEWkInQNFyvDqW58SKgd3hrgGBhxKRtJ7-ZxyaBvbALVY67A-qwm9BZxL0C0Kp9sG41snC5js5WEItaOjIa0I23P9YgTIvzqeHR4qqkHfgOQ/w266-h400/CH-4.jpg" width="266" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">But Charles couldn’t just
sit around and write books. One day he was called to the scene of an excavation
for the subway in lower Manhattan. Italian immigrant laborers had unearthed a
stone from a Revolutionary War fort. He told a <i>Times </i>reporter:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I understand that the contractor is
preparing to present the slab to the New-York Historical Society. I will do all
I can to prevent this. Once in the possession of the society it would be as
inaccessible to the general public as though it had been left in its
underground resting place.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">He was correct. And how
delightful to be regarded as an expert on old New York, long the domain of
patricians with trailing pedigrees. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">In 1906, Charles and Marie
sailed to Europe to collaborate with Jeannette Pomeroy on a scientific study of
the appearance of American women. Mrs. Pomeroy, an English woman descended from
Indian occultists—she said—was widely admired for her beauty advice and
business acumen. The <i>New-York Tribune </i>reported:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">If Mrs. Pomeroy is right in her conclusions
that the women of America are growing less beautiful year by year, she will
invoke national, state and municipal governments to aid her in forcing women to
become beautiful whether they will or not.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The remedy for the dearth
of beautiful women, Charles said in a statement, “is to simply surround women
with delectable odors, dulcet sounds, palatable foods, beautiful sights, and
correct ideas.”</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSyITkpZvng_83XkyqK3HShFpz5_BY2zNVdUD0kVwIHx7RtaQQWxKaeEnAogAqITfpRyrXieJPmT0WVaJkq3pGoEGyQrEXwJQBMwN77M6H55uUiMMZf4sxlALT7mFBU_jEwV4oQDVuKUF9X7b1TwlQg9D06d9nE5z21PyU0lEF6I4ZIo5Pt9GoMQJ1YA/s640/CH-5.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="403" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSyITkpZvng_83XkyqK3HShFpz5_BY2zNVdUD0kVwIHx7RtaQQWxKaeEnAogAqITfpRyrXieJPmT0WVaJkq3pGoEGyQrEXwJQBMwN77M6H55uUiMMZf4sxlALT7mFBU_jEwV4oQDVuKUF9X7b1TwlQg9D06d9nE5z21PyU0lEF6I4ZIo5Pt9GoMQJ1YA/w253-h400/CH-5.jpg" width="253" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Mrs. Jeannette Pomeroy</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I was sorry to learn that
Charles dealt in such sexist foolishness because he’s so likable otherwise. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Enmeshed in a lawsuit that
would result in the loss of her cosmetics empire, Mrs. Pomeroy faded from the
scene while Charles and Marie stuck around to research a book, <i>Nooks and
Corners of Old London. </i>Once back in the U.S., Charles accepted the position
of manager of Burrelle’s Press Clipping Bureau. He had found a new career.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: x-large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2csEt6V02g2_Ym0oEZ1zwSPEVt_g8vXhM4lMhWCZ8PMS4vgkylSBn22_asdocHuuj1M326SK6lcRP4AQq1AKW_AKLGEPgIe5oZkrSnLU2QAnFZCKArtcuZ1VrvUrey2SMuIhx27QwLVZCW5ql3mLCie1nrZQQGHemeEQjN-S9UFaxxtQoRDQQCM9ZOA/s1192/Exchange%20Editor.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1192" data-original-width="801" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2csEt6V02g2_Ym0oEZ1zwSPEVt_g8vXhM4lMhWCZ8PMS4vgkylSBn22_asdocHuuj1M326SK6lcRP4AQq1AKW_AKLGEPgIe5oZkrSnLU2QAnFZCKArtcuZ1VrvUrey2SMuIhx27QwLVZCW5ql3mLCie1nrZQQGHemeEQjN-S9UFaxxtQoRDQQCM9ZOA/w430-h640/Exchange%20Editor.jpg" width="430" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">An Ohioan named Frank
Burrelle established the bureau in New York City in 1888. It is said that he
came up with the idea after overhearing two businessmen discuss the need to
collect news stories about their own companies. Frank’s second wife, Nelle,
expanded the business and became its president in 1910 after Frank died on a
cruise ship in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Nelle Burrelle deserves her
own novel. It suffices to say she was an adventuress. When Louis Chevrolet
invited her to race with him, they circled the 1-1/2 mile Morris Park Racetrack
in 53 seconds. Shortly before her own mysterious death, she flew around in a
Curtiss airplane above Mineola Field on Long Island.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HAlNYs8T2JY/Y0XF6MUeODI/AAAAAAAANu0/dYKfTxFi464AGBK2a3Dnm8Ql_s7TnK66wCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Nelle%2B1910.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="320" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HAlNYs8T2JY/Y0XF6MUeODI/AAAAAAAANu0/dYKfTxFi464AGBK2a3Dnm8Ql_s7TnK66wCNcBGAsYHQ/w200-h400/Nelle%2B1910.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Nelle Burrelle, 1910</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">In 1911 Nelle fell ill at
her apartment in the Carlton Hotel on 44<sup>th</sup> Street and was attended
for several days by three physicians, including Dr. Jesse W. Amey whose
romantic advances she had spurned after her husband’s death. The physicians
listed acute nephritis as the cause of death but the coroner received an
anonymous tip that Nelle had been murdered. He performed an autopsy and ruled
her death to be of undetermined cause.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><o:p> </o:p>Nelle’s will disappeared,
of course. Then it reappeared, a torn, stained piece of paper that had been
slipped under the door of Dr. Amey’s apartment, he said. Charles Hemstreet got
wind of its existence and asked the surrogate to demand it from the doctor.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0URQGgqOhN2TIKWTxca3X3hnoEKY7DXuaHOIsyMZeh3EWzfeShiPwBiZEW5SUt9KhFaS2H6C6GVi7zO77PecqmAm3-or_IE-P2CV1RUGGW-dmXFFPih20deMNFRXBV_7ysl6FpAhSu2o0lnitUxbvGvadsCpjUOHYhRqIlE3NQfwShWbY5q4ufBvU9A/s1207/CH-2.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1207" data-original-width="690" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0URQGgqOhN2TIKWTxca3X3hnoEKY7DXuaHOIsyMZeh3EWzfeShiPwBiZEW5SUt9KhFaS2H6C6GVi7zO77PecqmAm3-or_IE-P2CV1RUGGW-dmXFFPih20deMNFRXBV_7ysl6FpAhSu2o0lnitUxbvGvadsCpjUOHYhRqIlE3NQfwShWbY5q4ufBvU9A/w229-h400/CH-2.png" width="229" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Burrelle's advertisement, about 1915</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The date and Nelle’s signature
were missing, rendering the will invalid. Unsurprisingly, given the shady
story, someone leaked its contents: 16 shares of Burrelle Clipping Bureau stock
to Charles Hemstreet, $2,000 to Marie Hemstreet, a few shares to various
employees and relatives, and the balance to Dr. Jesse W. Amey.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">One year later, the same
surrogate approved a different will for probate. It split the estate between
Nelle’s two sisters. And that was that.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">If Charles Hemstreet was left
out in the cold, he carried on at Burrelle’s and drew income from his books,
which continued to be popular with the exception of a novel, <i>The Don Quixote
of America, the Story of an Idea</i>, published in 1921.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The book stars John Eagle
of upstate New York, who dreams of building a new city in the western
wilderness and travels by train to Los Angeles. There, nothing goes his way. He
is beaten up and the butt of jokes. Upon his return home, however, he is
greeted with fanfare and hailed by his friends and family. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">One critic wrote:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The jacket hints of an “underlying idea.” I
have spent weary nights over the home brew trying to excavate it. I leave it
for future literary archeologists to unearth. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Charles Hemstreet of
America, an idea for a story.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;">*Charles Hemstreet died in
1941 and Marie in 1943.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-65283925663275002712022-10-05T07:00:00.003-04:002022-10-11T15:50:34.425-04:00Tale of Frank Sargent Hoffman<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkj09UQcT8r9Zf1KJ9mq5DzByopHeuX1C_EXZ22OF03QrTewTvVKWdvntp-cCbeZBg4zTolyi9HgwChYzRXqZtd-fDQ_-qlA5NxB62dV8UB36mZYF2KOMl2TSPitTkOwyZt6MgaUptSn1zfPMrSomAlzJE8P6DisPtP7OQQCTRKLvJb6cbGnSysses0w/s640/Frank%20Sargent%20Hoffman-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkj09UQcT8r9Zf1KJ9mq5DzByopHeuX1C_EXZ22OF03QrTewTvVKWdvntp-cCbeZBg4zTolyi9HgwChYzRXqZtd-fDQ_-qlA5NxB62dV8UB36mZYF2KOMl2TSPitTkOwyZt6MgaUptSn1zfPMrSomAlzJE8P6DisPtP7OQQCTRKLvJb6cbGnSysses0w/w300-h400/Frank%20Sargent%20Hoffman-1.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Frank Sargent Hoffman<br />Professor of Moral and Mental Philosophy,<br />Union College, N.Y.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Consider the situation of Frank Sargent Hoffman, casting about for work after a railroad job fell through.
Born on a ranch in Wisconsin in 1852, Frank came from a long line of farmers, a
profession he did not want.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">He was about 17 years old,
with his heart set on becoming a brakeman and rising to the position of
conductor. But the distant relative who promised to use his influence changed
his mind.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Now here was Frank in the
summer of 1870, traveling along the west bank of the Mississippi River, Dubuque
to St. Louis and back again, hoping to make some money. Frank wasn’t selling cloth,
coffee, tea, boots or dried figs. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVB5Wxc_LlzSMQJNkvOZ23fPYt0OKb94HNVIY03viGvg9--p09VpcvsXTXd8B0XQD8jN4Jqkf7_s-r3a6HFQxLq6T5O5eXjNjKtvIsdl05_8WeoSxbHHIi1nLmX3T9p9qfd86WjVxlXZ9DmEdCypixpEsxwvzUFKLRLvM_lPq4XFbjJADf3MXRx7NOyA/s956/Dubuque%20St%20Louis.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="690" data-original-width="956" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVB5Wxc_LlzSMQJNkvOZ23fPYt0OKb94HNVIY03viGvg9--p09VpcvsXTXd8B0XQD8jN4Jqkf7_s-r3a6HFQxLq6T5O5eXjNjKtvIsdl05_8WeoSxbHHIi1nLmX3T9p9qfd86WjVxlXZ9DmEdCypixpEsxwvzUFKLRLvM_lPq4XFbjJADf3MXRx7NOyA/w400-h289/Dubuque%20St%20Louis.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Mississippi River where it passes Iowa and Missouri</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">No, he peddled just one
item: a map that depicted the Franco-Prussian War, created by a friend in
Chicago. Frank had dozens of copies in his knapsack, each available for 25
cents to the people of Davenport, Muscatine, Burlington, Keokuk, and
so forth. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">The maps were popular and
Frank often telegraphed his friend in Chicago asking for more to be sent to the
express office closest to wherever he happened to be along the river. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh238g-5_9prhKyr1sAzs9CznxPd0n5Qj-QsuhUfnD8_xPnHoLyTB8dNgJjFUWSSVpbptfyLqEEQm83_x9DlrIaKNZ9OgCa0j93GzS1TKvJ5PlCX6Hlict1Guv53hEZTtBfL8TQ93NiRxVrpyoQu-CYWJIrxPa6W6XafxUSwk5bCvVWuzNpnLYb9LxoqQ/s681/Franco%20Prussian%20War.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="508" data-original-width="681" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh238g-5_9prhKyr1sAzs9CznxPd0n5Qj-QsuhUfnD8_xPnHoLyTB8dNgJjFUWSSVpbptfyLqEEQm83_x9DlrIaKNZ9OgCa0j93GzS1TKvJ5PlCX6Hlict1Guv53hEZTtBfL8TQ93NiRxVrpyoQu-CYWJIrxPa6W6XafxUSwk5bCvVWuzNpnLYb9LxoqQ/w640-h478/Franco%20Prussian%20War.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Stylized map of the Franco-Prussian War, 1870<br />(not the one Frank sold)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Better to be navigating
those towns in the summer heat than be caught in the Siege of Metz, which would
begin that same August and end in October with Alsace-Lorraine in the grip of the
German Empire.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">At the close of summer, Frank
retreated to Galesburg, Illinois, where he lived with his father and mother and
two sisters. After leaving Wisconsin, the family had eventually landed in
Galesburg, where they continued to farm.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Galesburg has a few claims
to fame. The poet and Lincoln biographer Carl Sandburg was born and grew up
there. It is also the home of Knox College, founded in 1837 by a group of
Protestants and Congregationalists. In the fall of 1870 Frank entered Knox,
where he studied for two years before transferring to Amherst College.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Subsequently, Frank
graduated from Amherst, earned a Master of Divinity and a PhD at Yale, studied
in Germany with the philosophers Zeller and Fischer, and became a Professor of
Mental and Moral Philosophy at Union College in Schenectady, New York.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh0PeM7o_T_ytCxeE8zul8KXACZCXgsrndiV33gPS2ZvqYk2kGV1KQIVVtbObYbOaAY9S1iKgIcTU-XoEO1GwZNvYnL13mBlUb7zooJ3VskFIB7bePaQj2lZjNdIRLuFZDlZjlch7zOLgSxGXmbXOxggZbxBkBSxFbfzSc-EZOXKR1aFM6ETwekjpJPg/s1515/Frank4.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="965" data-original-width="1515" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh0PeM7o_T_ytCxeE8zul8KXACZCXgsrndiV33gPS2ZvqYk2kGV1KQIVVtbObYbOaAY9S1iKgIcTU-XoEO1GwZNvYnL13mBlUb7zooJ3VskFIB7bePaQj2lZjNdIRLuFZDlZjlch7zOLgSxGXmbXOxggZbxBkBSxFbfzSc-EZOXKR1aFM6ETwekjpJPg/w400-h255/Frank4.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Union College entrance, early twentieth century</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">In 1885, when Frank
arrived at Union College, the school was at its nadir. The student body and
faculty had shrunk, and those who remained lacked morale. An interim president,
Judson S. Landon, was surely more preoccupied with his position as a justice of the
New York Supreme Court. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">The Union College website
refers to “17 years of unrest and stagnation,” which would constitute a devastating
setback for any institution. The story is buried in the college's archives.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Frank Hoffman didn’t save
the day but a new president, Harrison Edwin Webster, is said to have improved
the mood and tripled enrollment. However, Webster and the presidents who
followed him did not like “Hoffy.” Frank’s popularity with students—especially
Phi Gamma Delta—may have worked against him. Efforts to ease him out started in
1889 but he managed to hang in until 1917. During those years he published four
very dry books: </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">The Sphere of the State </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">(1894),</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> The Sphere of Science
</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">(1898), </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Psychology and Common Life </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">(1903), and</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> The Sphere of
Religion </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">(1908).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">In 1918 Frank and his
second wife moved to New York City where his eldest daughter, Grace, had become
an acclaimed singer of popular songs and operetta. Grace, a Smith College
graduate, can be heard on early “talking machine records.” During World War I,
she gave concerts to raise money for the troops and toured with the John Philip
Sousa Band.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 9pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Frank was devoted to
Grace. Alas, she died of cancer in 1924, a very young woman. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOLhhZRHwHMM8xXC-ovxPK6VlM_H5-HduRWz9jW29XCjpvBxaZ8KFyBgf_r8HYL1Moq8fsNxQFxF-NBJLOH7QPNdjafpR_akokFZqDdAWr3KiUPQ2zL87OwngnDpsIaziBiZIDZNTH2bVFSuV16X4vmSw2UBwiIItdXEJOYw79CraSFL7Zp_3uxwzTmQ/s2420/Grace%20Sousa-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2420" data-original-width="939" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOLhhZRHwHMM8xXC-ovxPK6VlM_H5-HduRWz9jW29XCjpvBxaZ8KFyBgf_r8HYL1Moq8fsNxQFxF-NBJLOH7QPNdjafpR_akokFZqDdAWr3KiUPQ2zL87OwngnDpsIaziBiZIDZNTH2bVFSuV16X4vmSw2UBwiIItdXEJOYw79CraSFL7Zp_3uxwzTmQ/w155-h400/Grace%20Sousa-1.jpg" width="155" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Two years later Frank
published a memoir, </span><i style="font-size: 14pt;">Tales of Hoffman.</i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> The book is a collection of
stories. In its most engaging chapter, “Remarkable Animals I Have Known,” Frank
returns to his summer on the Mississippi, 1870 . . . </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">After selling maps all day
in Fort Madison, Iowa, Frank went out to supper and then started toward his hotel. He
saw a big tent at the far end of a large green in the center of town. Approaching,
he read a sign:</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">COME
AND SEE THE EDUCATED PIG!</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">The tent was packed but
Frank bought a ticket and squeezed in to see the show. Soon a retired
schoolteacher named James Kelley limped out from behind a curtain, followed
by a little white pig with a super-curly tail. His name was Pedro.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Kelley explained that the
crowd could ask the pig any question as long as the answer involved numbers.
The pig would demonstrate the correct answer using numbered blocks from a pile on
the stage.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiuSFSsUxPDIVS8Vs2DQ9eORfdzgaTZhtTExDkUcTZdB5vLPbfY7ACcLNamCv6NVtaNx3O5qFUu18u50o_1N3LS5G5Ea3nuHEnEU4Pdy4coe3anLNbF1zwYbXe2ybQuQ7KKCkYKG8ROYHTeej3Bz9eT2XLP3FdGJREt1GzLmqYU6Jv_b718fjY-6tqmQ/s343/Frank5.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="343" data-original-width="278" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiuSFSsUxPDIVS8Vs2DQ9eORfdzgaTZhtTExDkUcTZdB5vLPbfY7ACcLNamCv6NVtaNx3O5qFUu18u50o_1N3LS5G5Ea3nuHEnEU4Pdy4coe3anLNbF1zwYbXe2ybQuQ7KKCkYKG8ROYHTeej3Bz9eT2XLP3FdGJREt1GzLmqYU6Jv_b718fjY-6tqmQ/w324-h400/Frank5.jpg" width="324" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Educated or learned pigs were popular<br />attractions in the U.S. and Europe by the<br />late eighteenth century. </span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">People began calling out
questions; the answers included 1492, 1776, and 1870. A boy asked, “How old is
my grandfather?” and the pig answered correctly: 81. And so it went until
Frank, plotting to stump the pig—and presumably expose a fraud—stood up to ask
three questions.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">-<i>When did the Turks
capture Constantinople?</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">-<i>How old was Methuselah
when he died?<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><i>-Extract the cube root of
1728, multiply that by 72, divide by 36 and multiply the quotient by 13. What
is the answer?</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">The pig answered each question correctly. Embarrassed, Frank returned to his
hotel where he reflected darkly on how he would pay for four years of college
and three years of graduate school. Then he contemplated Pedro the educated pig, who drew a crowd and earned money wherever he went.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Awakening at midnight Frank asked himself, “Oh, what’s the use? Oh, what’s the use?” That question may have been his
most profound contribution to the discipline of philosophy.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: xx-small;">* Hoffman died in 1928.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: xx-small;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-91091811874153884392022-09-07T06:41:00.004-04:002022-11-10T10:29:00.055-05:00Oddments of Clara & William Sulzer<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8wac5zkT6jXFwBo8jvRwMPi-kflW1NMkYRnhYY7C1kEzW49tBhwWmwQ0_rNE_Ty30Gaw3kRs6i6E2ho841PcIsLR6Bq6Y_1M5ny6HmVkKPB3ED06oBJ6IPd-kiyFnPYaKzfrYL4R7BOso6mGTAGbDM7IS6oOZbGdV4jSCq1YqWNByEhG85PZF7P8QQ/s1024/Sulzer7.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="743" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8wac5zkT6jXFwBo8jvRwMPi-kflW1NMkYRnhYY7C1kEzW49tBhwWmwQ0_rNE_Ty30Gaw3kRs6i6E2ho841PcIsLR6Bq6Y_1M5ny6HmVkKPB3ED06oBJ6IPd-kiyFnPYaKzfrYL4R7BOso6mGTAGbDM7IS6oOZbGdV4jSCq1YqWNByEhG85PZF7P8QQ/w290-h400/Sulzer7.jpg" width="290" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Clara Sulzer, around 1910</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">What is left of Clara and
William Sulzer?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Scraps of silk and velvet,
feathers, flowers—trimmings for Clara’s outré hats . . . </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">The yellowed newspaper
clippings about William's impeachment by the New York State Legislature . .
.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">. . . and the usual Albany
gossip perpetrated by the Tammany Hall Sachems.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Governor William “Plain
Bill” Sulzer was born in 1863 in New Jersey, to a Frisian</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 10pt;">*</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> mother and German father,
and reared on Manhattan’s Lower East Side.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 10pt;">**</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> There he imbibed machine politics at a young age. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Sulzer was a brilliant
debater and orator who cultivated his physical resemblance to Henry Clay. Like
Clay, he hoped to become President of the United States.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">In the 1880s, having
attended Columbia Law School, Sulzer became a protégé of Tammany Hall boss John
Reilly. He bounded into the New York State Assembly, rising to the position of
speaker, but set his sights on the House of Representatives. Sulzer would
represent the Tenth District—largely Eastern European immigrants—for nine
consecutive terms.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc71pt9oW0_hFfYRC_qPKC2kDHEvqn51pEUCF9oUsYQTMAgF6PuWx9thyPjkTfHtikTPgCSqcecJbTtfjZFzyiIc-Hn99vhnz1uCpDRiUfG9hDSBu43HvSY3N-MqDPH07I-LoZnUqVud_dbT07rfSEZRXQ2cNrQJjyJYWZh1bvGk1BsanfJKTDwQ8nqQ/s640/Sulzer2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="446" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc71pt9oW0_hFfYRC_qPKC2kDHEvqn51pEUCF9oUsYQTMAgF6PuWx9thyPjkTfHtikTPgCSqcecJbTtfjZFzyiIc-Hn99vhnz1uCpDRiUfG9hDSBu43HvSY3N-MqDPH07I-LoZnUqVud_dbT07rfSEZRXQ2cNrQJjyJYWZh1bvGk1BsanfJKTDwQ8nqQ/w279-h400/Sulzer2.jpg" width="279" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Governor Sulzer soon after his election</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">In Congress, Sulzer sponsored
progressive legislation: creating an independent Department of Labor, setting
an eight-hour workday for federal employees, publicizing campaign
contributions. As chair of the Foreign Relations Committee, he endeared himself
to Jewish voters by pushing for abrogation of an 1832 U.S.-Russia treaty that established
reciprocity among citizens with passports.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">The treaty was a problem
because Russia had been denying entrance to American Jews and, to a lesser
extent, Protestant missionaries and Catholic priests since the 1870s. The successful
campaign for abrogation was led largely by the American Jewish Committee and
the Union of American Hebrew Congregations.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Meanwhile, in
Philadelphia, Sulzer’s future wife Clara Rodelheim was growing up in an Orthodox
Jewish family. Her father, Max, was in manufacturing or possibly a liquor
dealer. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Clara became a nurse after
attending the New York City Training School and might have met Sulzer in 1904
when he toured a Manhattan hospital. Or he might have fallen in love with her
while he was a patient at the hospital and she his “tender and sympathetic”
nurse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">It may be that they met at
a dinner party in Washington, D.C. in 1904. When he saw her again in 1908, he
said, “Don’t you think it is time we were getting married? You know we have
been engaged for four years.” </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">These various tales appeared in newspapers. Once upon a time, public figures could get away
with competing stories. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Much to the surprise of
the Rodelheim family, Clara and Sulzer were married quite suddenly in the parsonage
of the First Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">“We don’t want the wedding
to have any publicity just now,” one of Clara’s sisters told a reporter at the
door, pushing her chatty mother out of the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">In July 1913, a
Wanamaker’s saleswoman named Mignon Hopkins sued Sulzer for damages. She
alleged that Sulzer had proposed to her in 1906, that she had passed as his
wife on several occasions, and that there were love letters. Sulzer, she
claimed, had ruined her life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">“Nothing to it,” Sulzer
told the newspapers. Indeed, it was the least of his troubles. He knew what was
coming.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Sulzer was elected New
York Governor in 1912. He owed a great debt to Tammany but announced that he
would be a reformer, independent of the machine. He pledged to “clean house” and
called for honest, efficient government. For example, he demanded investigations into the prison system and the cost of rebuilding the burned-down state capitol
building.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihgSg39o3uR_9J5tRTP0nOrVlI37UmdHHknPX5_6hI_TIDRLo8w7poxpSoTuBBIYV99cfjqyJplSklmsjYk8N5_vdMq4gxXA6z2gF9BA7j7TWFqtUDPFB15JmGjafqgS2YiMVAN_74HSborOldN_IPEHeEnMK7TYG8c0HyW-UuQcDXRD1Lh3e2GhE2cA/s600/Capitol%20Fire.webp" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="412" data-original-width="600" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihgSg39o3uR_9J5tRTP0nOrVlI37UmdHHknPX5_6hI_TIDRLo8w7poxpSoTuBBIYV99cfjqyJplSklmsjYk8N5_vdMq4gxXA6z2gF9BA7j7TWFqtUDPFB15JmGjafqgS2YiMVAN_74HSborOldN_IPEHeEnMK7TYG8c0HyW-UuQcDXRD1Lh3e2GhE2cA/w400-h275/Capitol%20Fire.webp" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The Great Capitol Fire, March 1911</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Tammany pushed back immediately
in the form of the Frawley Committee, which announced its findings in August 1913. Sulzer was charged with making false statements,
using campaign funds to invest in stocks, and violations of the New York
Corrupt Practices Act. The committee announced it would pursue impeachment. Everything
happened quickly.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">From the 2 a.m. shadows stepped
Clara, claiming that she alone had invested campaign funds in the stock market.
In fact, she had forged her husband’s signature, she confided to the minority
leader, a Democrat. She produced a chart that purported to show the money trail.
Then she went into hiding and her doctor issued bulletins about nervous
collapse, prostration, and grave illness.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCJuuCpnRcXJb1ggUoiZpY5BPmFeO4lCbN51g5BN_25TLwdKkpBVRZoAtGzxSCKo_SwTrd6h2o0SkYi2BgYWCZ-9p0F_qxP5iP52GKyRAZQ1Nwo9jA1ouXx-b8bj7WzDAjO4_mIrhQxd52Ism2VKjXGMyFkMD9gvmIpSJvmh12adzr5vokuvdmw6cIw/s640/Sulzer6.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="499" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCJuuCpnRcXJb1ggUoiZpY5BPmFeO4lCbN51g5BN_25TLwdKkpBVRZoAtGzxSCKo_SwTrd6h2o0SkYi2BgYWCZ-9p0F_qxP5iP52GKyRAZQ1Nwo9jA1ouXx-b8bj7WzDAjO4_mIrhQxd52Ism2VKjXGMyFkMD9gvmIpSJvmh12adzr5vokuvdmw6cIw/w501-h640/Sulzer6.jpg" width="501" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">In 1913, Mrs. Sulzer was the first recipient of<br /> a parcel post package on the New York City to Albany route.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">(Library of Congress)</span></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">While Clara lay in bed,
the French newspapers became obsessed with the case. The <i>Journal des Débats </i>commented
curiously on the Governor’s wife and American culture:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">This news deserves attention, as it shows a
revolution in American conjugal life. Hereto our conception of the husband has
been that of a breadwinner, a money maker and a check signer, happy with the
fact that he was able to supply his wife with money to rain dollars in Europe,
while we thought she ignored the origin of the dollars and often was almost
unable to say what her husband’s profession was. We must now renounce this
prejudice before Mrs. Sulzer’s detailed statement. Such accountantlike
precision would be affecting anywhere but in New York it is sublime.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">After Governor Sulzer refuted Clara’s confession, the investigative committee promised more
revelations and Sulzer tried to bargain personally with Frawley. The vote was
79-45 to impeach.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Sulzer left office in
October 1913 but within weeks he ran as an Independent to represent the Sixth
District in Manhattan, which was 80 percent Jewish. Purportedly, six rabbis
implored him to enter the race, which he won.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">After serving one term in
the state legislature, Sulzer moved with Clara to a small house on Washington
Place. Incredibly, when he died in 1941 there were no obituaries in the New
York papers.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Only the <i>Times </i>acknowledged
him with a few paragraphs on the editorial page, which began:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>William Sulzer may be said to have been a ghost long before
he died.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUVyyPc99s9qxA2d7BZwdmdER4STVP8puBl6F0luyYdPB_e208j2THPP3JR2PS_nlkIEvYD7FQe-NXOBNEH-uDD-VORgofOmzYvGfLkdE7kbxi0meWGgWAR92Y2AIGscDejHZFcaYeLjHjXLfSLMFebbTR5xcCuGMDHDHwS2BS3uW6IrWFUUtRrWXwiA/s1024/Sulzer8.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="745" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUVyyPc99s9qxA2d7BZwdmdER4STVP8puBl6F0luyYdPB_e208j2THPP3JR2PS_nlkIEvYD7FQe-NXOBNEH-uDD-VORgofOmzYvGfLkdE7kbxi0meWGgWAR92Y2AIGscDejHZFcaYeLjHjXLfSLMFebbTR5xcCuGMDHDHwS2BS3uW6IrWFUUtRrWXwiA/s320/Sulzer8.jpg" width="233" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The ghost of Clara Sulzer</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt; mso-themecolor: text1; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">*The
Frisian Islands are an archipelago along the coasts of Germany, the
Netherlands, and Denmark. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt; mso-themecolor: text1; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">**</span></span><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;">He may have grown up on his
parents’ farm in Elizabeth; accounts vary.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;">Thank you for the tip, Mark!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt; mso-themecolor: text1; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://throughthehourglass.com/"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt; mso-themecolor: text1;">https://throughthehourglass.com/</span></a><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt; mso-themecolor: text1;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1Connecticut, USA41.6032207 -73.08774913.292986863821156 -108.243999 69.913454536178847 -37.931499tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-45218985416178404402022-08-04T08:46:00.003-04:002022-08-04T08:46:28.463-04:00August Lake<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZScsyW6JjTAxQB1O_nRevSzQAsMwOt92c6j0DsmcFip3DHWLaTbCAvhFWrGpkLlFfClZJ70zkScpwXi-rJBKsShuooavtyl88tuZtyKCNXSzLL3l41C-2NU7vtcmrr3sd0oIDHv4F2n-gXRPCU2T3Xs2OjWYOIwLcE6aq9_LEanIcEL7eF3v8Q6TMew/s640/August%20lake1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="479" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZScsyW6JjTAxQB1O_nRevSzQAsMwOt92c6j0DsmcFip3DHWLaTbCAvhFWrGpkLlFfClZJ70zkScpwXi-rJBKsShuooavtyl88tuZtyKCNXSzLL3l41C-2NU7vtcmrr3sd0oIDHv4F2n-gXRPCU2T3Xs2OjWYOIwLcE6aq9_LEanIcEL7eF3v8Q6TMew/w640-h480/August%20lake1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-37589136578918911632022-07-06T06:45:00.003-04:002022-10-11T15:51:02.274-04:00Uncovering Joseph G. Robin (part 2)<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitDqJtZDO9pKAaIf9k0fSUPoiQxLHm3_yzEURgXIFc7vJ70ibhmekrrIXraiH9fRnQ3Rfw-0Ypn7yHr1FjjOmWHrvO2N759jntRV2IsM7HEnKQgINsUuvF9IWStDpUtthEKT6J2pFD-60cr2s_HaQ_qxcs4sX-Gz3rrPvfsIfHIlgmTk_Qc5fbyZ4DGA/s640/Robin%20jail.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitDqJtZDO9pKAaIf9k0fSUPoiQxLHm3_yzEURgXIFc7vJ70ibhmekrrIXraiH9fRnQ3Rfw-0Ypn7yHr1FjjOmWHrvO2N759jntRV2IsM7HEnKQgINsUuvF9IWStDpUtthEKT6J2pFD-60cr2s_HaQ_qxcs4sX-Gz3rrPvfsIfHIlgmTk_Qc5fbyZ4DGA/w300-h400/Robin%20jail.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Joseph G. Robin on the way to jail</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">In January 1913, fallen
far from grace, New York financier Joseph G. Robin was sentenced to one year at the New York City
Penitentiary on Blackwell’s Island, a narrow island in the middle of the East
River, which is now called Roosevelt Island. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">How much had Joseph embezzled?
Reports ranged from $10,000 to millions. The amount mattered, of course, but it
was the light sentence that drew the public’s outrage.</span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA2AXtZhqvGq35-nDfbodk0ydkrnrXEHt7nXhXJicNBzlyOYXCIvzQvBPLPxivFkTNpLcz3yR1ZHeJ95Z5yN5qwh6H4vWxlgY3hdQYrRui6yXNNtRyztT89rK13DKT9gft-cy0Aw9MU89BeuosS4cOw3NBQj08hYmBZk5dE9bZZmiUDn2FUx6hhflPng/s1063/Robin%201909.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="672" data-original-width="1063" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA2AXtZhqvGq35-nDfbodk0ydkrnrXEHt7nXhXJicNBzlyOYXCIvzQvBPLPxivFkTNpLcz3yR1ZHeJ95Z5yN5qwh6H4vWxlgY3hdQYrRui6yXNNtRyztT89rK13DKT9gft-cy0Aw9MU89BeuosS4cOw3NBQj08hYmBZk5dE9bZZmiUDn2FUx6hhflPng/w400-h253/Robin%201909.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The Queensboro Bridge crosses Blackwell's Island,<br />renamed Welfare Island in 1921 and Roosevelt Island<br />in 1973. </span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Hoping for leniency,
Joseph had dropped his initial plea of insanity and cooperated with the D.A. He
implicated a former city official and two Carnegie Trust bankers in bribery schemes
involving the investment of city funds.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Joseph entered the
penitentiary on a mild spring day. Once on the inside, overcome with a desire
to clear his name, he requested and received a pardon from New York Governor
Sulzer. But the pardon would be ruled invalid because Sulzer was in the midst
of an impeachment trial.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4NbF7LGSwD1IZh-_gX-jmjhGDzMvboYRNc9fw11IF9-75FmUc-9JwEBbjKDK8PMeBCjizu-cTWi8APaJun35LbpLr1zHt8WnDwIBUH_YooUF6sC4DyZ-zj8GyOX9-nF2NWyq8EJucyFpHxpVUpaLa63lFeeP3JwcfKqoI2_sAwdn3g3BwRPM7ePsm6A/s1160/Sulzer1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="773" data-original-width="1160" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4NbF7LGSwD1IZh-_gX-jmjhGDzMvboYRNc9fw11IF9-75FmUc-9JwEBbjKDK8PMeBCjizu-cTWi8APaJun35LbpLr1zHt8WnDwIBUH_YooUF6sC4DyZ-zj8GyOX9-nF2NWyq8EJucyFpHxpVUpaLa63lFeeP3JwcfKqoI2_sAwdn3g3BwRPM7ePsm6A/w400-h266/Sulzer1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">New York State Governor William Sulzer, <br />who cultivated a resemblance to Henry Clay.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">After his release, Joseph received a pardon from the new governor and testified further about bribery in the railway business. Then, it seemed, he
disappeared from the record. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">But the internet agreed to
be prodded and finally gave Joseph up. His name appeared on a list of deaths
that occurred during April 1929, information that unlocked what may be the most
interesting part of the story of Joseph G. Robin.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">It turns out that the
American novelist Theodore Dreiser (1871-1945) met Joseph in 1908 when the
banker was nearing the peak of his wealth and influence. By that time, Dreiser,
a native of St. Louis, had published at least a dozen short stories as well as </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Sister
Carrie</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">, one of several novels he would write about strivers who rise high
and fall hard. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVZDsPNGV8Yq20RMdY98hkDzQxHECsZzeGlIzQ93We5aHtXd3VL0-BWHmBf--6u4Eo7VvNfmTrNDnzOxoP3n9GeNwQBYwy0ErW10PavHOCe0grr_eZ18HGH7v6f_xkwejQBR6xSN5YSm7XgCdV0GzWBxhZL-iBLqeYpRGBg8qRUuzaw8Lf34ciAQkAlQ/s618/Robin-TD%201908.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="618" data-original-width="478" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVZDsPNGV8Yq20RMdY98hkDzQxHECsZzeGlIzQ93We5aHtXd3VL0-BWHmBf--6u4Eo7VvNfmTrNDnzOxoP3n9GeNwQBYwy0ErW10PavHOCe0grr_eZ18HGH7v6f_xkwejQBR6xSN5YSm7XgCdV0GzWBxhZL-iBLqeYpRGBg8qRUuzaw8Lf34ciAQkAlQ/w310-h400/Robin-TD%201908.jpg" width="310" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Newspaper illustration of Theodore Dreiser,<br />around 1908</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Dreiser, like Joseph, was sitting
on top of the world. As editor-in-chief of Butterick Publications, which owned
three women’s magazines—</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">The Delineator</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">,</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> Designer</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">, and the
interestingly named</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> New Idea Women’s Magazine</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">—Dreiser mingled with the
likes of President Theodore Roosevelt and H.L. Mencken. He and Joseph took to
galivanting around town. They hit it off because, scholars have written, both
men were the children of immigrants, had bouts with mental illness, and overcame
adversity to achieve success.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGfkLSFwegI1HDcUNT78-EABD7GPkXdLF3yJ_WNjszGCdgSLMEKuzsBKRiX2Te3_Rl67zxiG4FE9LWI1PHxNE27oUQWXmW40hqAuJX2TY1F50QLtTSPncVF5L1aQOGFQTThElkl5mDjup81eA7YpSl3CGp0XH-Yn9ic-BGTLoo_a8601m7BiYOBmxnAQ/s945/Robin%20Driftwood-Manor.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="417" data-original-width="945" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGfkLSFwegI1HDcUNT78-EABD7GPkXdLF3yJ_WNjszGCdgSLMEKuzsBKRiX2Te3_Rl67zxiG4FE9LWI1PHxNE27oUQWXmW40hqAuJX2TY1F50QLtTSPncVF5L1aQOGFQTThElkl5mDjup81eA7YpSl3CGp0XH-Yn9ic-BGTLoo_a8601m7BiYOBmxnAQ/w400-h176/Robin%20Driftwood-Manor.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Joseph G. Robin's estate, Driftwood Manor, once</span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">located in Wildwood State Park on the north shore</span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">of Long Island. </span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">https://liparks.com/the-hidden-past-of-wildwood-state-park/</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Dreiser found inspiration
in Joseph’s life. When he sat down to write <i>Twelve Men</i> (1919), a
collection of largely biographical stories about men he had known, he based “’Vanity,
Vanity, Saith the Preacher” on the life of Joseph G. Robin, referring to him as
“X.” Here, Dreiser recalls a visit to Joseph’s Long Island mansion: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">He was always so grave, serene, watchful
yet pleasant and decidedly agreeable, gay even, without seeming so to be. There
was something so amazingly warm and exotic about him and his, and yet at the
same time something so cold and calculated, as if after all he were saying to
himself, “I am the master of all this, am stage-managing it for my own
pleasure.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">At the end of “Vanity,
Vanity,” Dreiser defends Joseph:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">. . . the man had been a victim of a
cold-blooded conspiracy, the object of which was to oust him from opportunities
and to forestall him in methods which would certainly have led to enormous
wealth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">The men stayed in touch after
Joseph’s release from prison. Dreiser encouraged Joseph to write, and during
the 1920s the former banker published two plays under a pseudonym. But it
appears that his real talent was double-dealing. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJUVj1_LrRD-h1ebeL7SdusV70PZuvsdCibZr0lzHlneMz0ni1Th8UH8z5jVrmy3dh1bH3Z0FUZ6kwpSFpEbvDcvcCeVqlJeiuFCFBsnuwnS9SomVZNV5HOaj_nFjRDu2luSR3L4bKqWrEvG9WMhCWrkqmasBR1aEyw2Vy3f7xuyBkxCBYkImLjy-BUQ/s640/Robin-Jew.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="409" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJUVj1_LrRD-h1ebeL7SdusV70PZuvsdCibZr0lzHlneMz0ni1Th8UH8z5jVrmy3dh1bH3Z0FUZ6kwpSFpEbvDcvcCeVqlJeiuFCFBsnuwnS9SomVZNV5HOaj_nFjRDu2luSR3L4bKqWrEvG9WMhCWrkqmasBR1aEyw2Vy3f7xuyBkxCBYkImLjy-BUQ/w256-h400/Robin-Jew.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Joseph G. Robin easily made it into<br />Volume II of Henry Ford's 1921 compilation,<br /><i>The International Jew.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 9pt;">*Dreiser also drew on
Joseph G. Robin’s personality for the character of Frank Cowperwood in </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 9pt;">The
Financier</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 9pt;"> (1912).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></a></p><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-56455048522441863612022-06-03T07:07:00.005-04:002022-10-11T15:51:14.399-04:00Discovering Joseph G. Robin<p><br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWMoW4U073hpczZLyOzWKCjeATDOQoZrkAB9qwmt5YUwf8NLWkg91NHi80WV_0VO7EZCJw3x6zuem0mFrO6s69c1E8mB-A2N1l4VM-jfk6xD5vVV-xKEJfaHx1iEjHdHAfFmNXnQEgLyo4vuatwynaQWajSAyu4AohlgkKx2NtHNch_sd4y5b4whFI9g/s594/Robin,%20J.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="594" data-original-width="436" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWMoW4U073hpczZLyOzWKCjeATDOQoZrkAB9qwmt5YUwf8NLWkg91NHi80WV_0VO7EZCJw3x6zuem0mFrO6s69c1E8mB-A2N1l4VM-jfk6xD5vVV-xKEJfaHx1iEjHdHAfFmNXnQEgLyo4vuatwynaQWajSAyu4AohlgkKx2NtHNch_sd4y5b4whFI9g/w470-h640/Robin,%20J.jpg" width="470" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Joseph G. Robin, early twentieth century,<br />newspaper illustration</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Joseph
G. Robin was a New York banker who became very wealthy during the Gilded Age. He amassed
and developed real estate, built a web of railways, and made a few shady deals
with power companies that sprang up in the spray of Niagara Falls. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">But
it was Joseph’s consolidation of banks, from which he had embezzled mightily,
that finally caught up with him. Everything fell apart on December 28, 1910, in
the midst of a state investigation of insurance companies. Joseph was arrested
and put in the Tombs, a damp crowded prison designed to look like an Egyptian
mausoleum, located in lower Manhattan.</span></p>
<p class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Evidently
Joseph anticipated the arrest, because he tried to commit suicide by jumping from
a window in the Beaux-Arts Building, where he lived several floors above the
Café des Beaux-Arts. Further, his friends told reporters, he flaunted a packet
of cyanide.</span></p>
<p class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjzL4U2gm0sadQnPe5beoJU9sFFZp8MVC2kB6YEOjh7PdvO_gWOgbgJaNMCKk_mNCZtQVgU5itni1rOnViAPL5MW6wWpK6tM6tw8FKXDAdoqQuTlYOn4ivw2mjr67kypkHpZ3FzVfO4FrBZko7VXc77o3w3mK0hMzIxOsg-y8Bt4jF8SgY85vf3xJtw/s640/Robin%20headline.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="445" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjzL4U2gm0sadQnPe5beoJU9sFFZp8MVC2kB6YEOjh7PdvO_gWOgbgJaNMCKk_mNCZtQVgU5itni1rOnViAPL5MW6wWpK6tM6tw8FKXDAdoqQuTlYOn4ivw2mjr67kypkHpZ3FzVfO4FrBZko7VXc77o3w3mK0hMzIxOsg-y8Bt4jF8SgY85vf3xJtw/w279-h400/Robin%20headline.jpg" width="279" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Joseph’s
older sister, Louise, was a physician dedicated to improving the medical treatment
of inmates in prisons and asylums. She managed to whisk her brother out of the
Tombs and hired three alienists to examine Joseph and commit him to a
sanitarium. Within a day or two, however, a judge declared Joseph sane,
impaneled a grand jury, and sent him back to prison.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Facts
and rumors tumbled forth. Joseph and Louise had emigrated from Russia to the
U.S. in the 1880s, the children of Herman and Rebecca Rabinovitch. Joseph
changed his </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">surname to Robin when he was
quite young although Louise remained “Rabinovitch.” Joseph earned his first
dollars selling a story to the newspapers. It concerned the scandalous
conditions that his sister uncovered in the course of her medical investigations.</span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYTxzZBPW7Abt_GVspjCKhAE1Qs_S3jntZl2ZF8tsKIWzA11oFtoctlTuz0T9m18GC9rqa0U0_6YNS5j9ICBKleFBtF79j-DG2cgkTPmhZJGtEp-ObAJC0AFkJkqFyI_Lsfpcz96yd6OaK6fPuhfcZcXFortk1zeEEeCaAfsW6OCQ3tAN6h88x-E-74w/s555/Robin,%20Louise.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="555" data-original-width="475" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYTxzZBPW7Abt_GVspjCKhAE1Qs_S3jntZl2ZF8tsKIWzA11oFtoctlTuz0T9m18GC9rqa0U0_6YNS5j9ICBKleFBtF79j-DG2cgkTPmhZJGtEp-ObAJC0AFkJkqFyI_Lsfpcz96yd6OaK6fPuhfcZcXFortk1zeEEeCaAfsW6OCQ3tAN6h88x-E-74w/w343-h400/Robin,%20Louise.jpg" width="343" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Newspaper sketch of Louise Rabinovitch</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Joseph insinuated himself into Wall Street, investing in various schemes. By the mid-1890s, now a popular
financier who pranced around town, Joseph courted wealthy widows and touted his
French blood. He pronounced his name “Ro-ban” and thought he had left the past
well behind.</span></p>
<p class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Then
detectives turned up an elderly Jewish couple who claimed to be the parents of
Joseph and Louise. They were brought to the courtroom to see their son, but he
and his sister insisted that these people were not their parents. Speaking in
broken English, weeping and wailing, the mother gave the District Attorney
letters that Joseph and Louise had written to her and her husband. One was
dated August 31, 1892.</span></p>
<p class="MsoPlainText" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">My Dear Parents: Please
answer me at once if I can have anything of you, or something of you, or
nothing. . . I need $10 for a ticket and $15 for two or three weeks’ board and
lodging. Please answer at once: don’t wait for a minute and send me the money or
write me one word, “not.” Remember this only that if you refuse me I will have
nothing in common with you! Your son, Joseph<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Joseph
and Louise were adamant that they did not know Herman and Rebecca and refused
to speak with them. Perhaps the couple were opportunists but I doubt it. They
died a few years after their son was sentenced to one year in prison.</span></p>
<p class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">According
to reports, Joseph spent his time at the Tombs in an office—not a cell—equipped
with a telephone and typewriter. There he carried on, working with his brokers, trading stocks and bonds; mixing despondency and defiance.</span></p>
<p class="MsoPlainText"><o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM54dg_ELGIkh0KSA2w7J2z_7wXI58C_Bw4yhbeqPehWYBURSL1fc4tNZ0xgOx0XvuOYc4Hxf_MgoES65VTqOwsFBZhjHEnWfmTmazgPrXFmFeb0fLNknq4YRksj5V2slEdYNBdypGlugBfoZ7Gy-pRfiDTxcpn6JMYA_0SOLkrbaezcvypuoPmNPc_A/s1536/Robin-The%20Tombs.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="969" data-original-width="1536" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM54dg_ELGIkh0KSA2w7J2z_7wXI58C_Bw4yhbeqPehWYBURSL1fc4tNZ0xgOx0XvuOYc4Hxf_MgoES65VTqOwsFBZhjHEnWfmTmazgPrXFmFeb0fLNknq4YRksj5V2slEdYNBdypGlugBfoZ7Gy-pRfiDTxcpn6JMYA_0SOLkrbaezcvypuoPmNPc_A/w400-h253/Robin-The%20Tombs.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Postcard of the Tombs, early 1900s</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><b>To
be continued.</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoPlainText"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</span></a></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-22876254691715474592022-04-07T06:26:00.009-04:002023-04-09T21:38:13.214-04:00Comstock & Comstockery<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOfwhsDzjrYzvbrHBNX2lFnhDtw7XIfBBmKmzppq0nQEUKcCcTFNAn-YgBYA_Kfi23AGYNgpVZ6PFhHoNMJ1CdqUDElIb9QGbyP2WQXnc53lhAHYj3Le-mHkQHCnnY5ufmGq8a68yosNQmuUAzSsTKGmbc-cI8Hef_yqEClOvwAWdNQix8nloOYwhFmg/s1645/Sanger-4.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1645" data-original-width="1420" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOfwhsDzjrYzvbrHBNX2lFnhDtw7XIfBBmKmzppq0nQEUKcCcTFNAn-YgBYA_Kfi23AGYNgpVZ6PFhHoNMJ1CdqUDElIb9QGbyP2WQXnc53lhAHYj3Le-mHkQHCnnY5ufmGq8a68yosNQmuUAzSsTKGmbc-cI8Hef_yqEClOvwAWdNQix8nloOYwhFmg/w345-h400/Sanger-4.jpg" width="345" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Newspaper sketch, 1880s</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Attempts by state legislatures
to prevent women from procuring Misoprostol and Mifepristone through the mail
recall old times in a deeply concerning way. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Those were the days of
Comstockery.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Anthony Comstock
(1844-1915), who spent more than forty years persecuting Americans for engaging
in activities that he deemed obscene, started his career in 1873 when he suppressed
an “objectionable” book in the store where he worked as a clerk.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">That year he established
the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice and became the unpaid enforcer
of the Comstock Laws, which he had persuaded members of Congress to pass with alacrity.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">The Comstock Laws criminalized
the possession and conveyance of lewd, lascivious, filthy, indecent and disgusting
material and objects. Those words actually appeared in the Federal Criminal Code,
Section 211, from which all Comstock Laws descended.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Thus the United States
Post Office was among the private and public institutions, organizations, and
businesses—including an old bookstore which stocked antique porn—that fell
under the control of Anthony Comstock, special agent for the postal service. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhnPBakiOvx5p-UmMYQeIEI3Y5qWpQdHkM5FCThDGAy5So6ctRvKonvWPFt8D47Wqu-Z1wiKk9_daocuzvvLzo14QhipRxXNDJ5sJXcQn6tBfx2_xMqsgDy1m9ROuQ-3JoJEYingKbhD4eRFdzBLlM-npI6R4K4xXa0ebOiYS5jq22he9VAdIMIO5jmw/s774/Sanger-2.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="774" data-original-width="520" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhnPBakiOvx5p-UmMYQeIEI3Y5qWpQdHkM5FCThDGAy5So6ctRvKonvWPFt8D47Wqu-Z1wiKk9_daocuzvvLzo14QhipRxXNDJ5sJXcQn6tBfx2_xMqsgDy1m9ROuQ-3JoJEYingKbhD4eRFdzBLlM-npI6R4K4xXa0ebOiYS5jq22he9VAdIMIO5jmw/w430-h640/Sanger-2.png" width="430" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Comstock was not without his detractors.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Right up until 1914, the
year before he died, Comstock initiated 3,697 state and federal arraignments of
Americans whose behavior and/or possessions he found obscene. Of these, 2,740
pleaded guilty or were convicted.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Information about birth
control—“prevention of conception”—fell into that category, as discovered by
Margaret Sanger, an advocate for reproductive rights who published and
distributed a newspaper, <i>The Woman Rebel. </i>Sanger, a nurse and social
worker who lived in New York City, was especially concerned about the plight of
working-class women who lacked information about how to prevent pregnancy and any way to get safe, effective contraception. Meanwhile, she argued, wealthy
women had access to whatever they needed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnyagFUm_mMbUg8ehRS4iWJwi-90gN0u1-XFpMiJTrzvwfA_61z7V85a7XyDYkaC2pLMS1HXTI1dInj4_jDO7Jrd38D-PieDvAQwSs6FyjXucOUO63oOvT_qkwR54KLesWa3T6l8mxxUBanRztlN1JveusBrI3UoG3zXFTQCNT0ipxmqQouAW2DM6wg/s1444/Woman%20Rebel.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1444" data-original-width="1310" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnyagFUm_mMbUg8ehRS4iWJwi-90gN0u1-XFpMiJTrzvwfA_61z7V85a7XyDYkaC2pLMS1HXTI1dInj4_jDO7Jrd38D-PieDvAQwSs6FyjXucOUO63oOvT_qkwR54KLesWa3T6l8mxxUBanRztlN1JveusBrI3UoG3zXFTQCNT0ipxmqQouAW2DM6wg/s320/Woman%20Rebel.jpg" width="290" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Masthead of <i>The Woman Rebel</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">After Sanger mailed out
three issues of </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">The Woman Rebel</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">, Comstock became enraged. In August
1914, he had her indicted for violating the law but she was released without
bail and fled to England. In Sanger’s absence, her friends distributed 100,000
copies of </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Family Limitations</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">, a brochure about contraception.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-VXadsciThiJ-lBPig9tXwXmn3LgItXP4Jk3KC55C8lkvBSioZ31ZsqK3plCF8Za4FjDbShGVftbltW9xim2YJPJsgjrqXz7KIy_wcWnDkg_QFjoHfLv2X3NpKWnwZU-G-ab86YOIM-OjT7uxhd13oQlK3M4sVR5B4BJ7x4a9iwiEe-MHFGWD8xvMHQ/s546/Sanger-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="452" data-original-width="546" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-VXadsciThiJ-lBPig9tXwXmn3LgItXP4Jk3KC55C8lkvBSioZ31ZsqK3plCF8Za4FjDbShGVftbltW9xim2YJPJsgjrqXz7KIy_wcWnDkg_QFjoHfLv2X3NpKWnwZU-G-ab86YOIM-OjT7uxhd13oQlK3M4sVR5B4BJ7x4a9iwiEe-MHFGWD8xvMHQ/s320/Sanger-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Newspaper story, April 1914;<br />"Make P. O. Officials Blush"</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Subsequently, one of Comstock’s agents tricked Sanger’s
husband, William, into handing over several brochures upon request. William Sanger was indicted and convicted and sentenced to thirty days in
prison.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">“The sooner society gets
rid of you the better!” one of the judges proclaimed from the bench.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">When Margaret Sanger
returned to the United States in 1915, she, too, stood trial. After her
five-year old daughter died of pneumonia, the charges were dismissed. She went on to found the nation’s first birth control clinic and crusaded for reproductive
rights until her death in 1966. Five years later, the Comstock Laws were
abolished.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;"><i>It is time for the people of this country
to find out if the United States mails are to be available for their use, as
they in their adult intelligence desire, or if it is possible for the United
States Post Office to constitute itself as an institution for the promulgation
of stupidity and ignorance, instead of a mechanical convenience.</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 8;"> </span>--Margaret
Sanger<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Rt2BzVblgPtlXUClu13bp6CLeNbfjUUgk32YWw13cpL83PKbRe-GWCJyPmsz2A9m3fdVEDkDXNBG33n-69GXTnCVAjvTFUmB3fKkGyzTDG3dBO2K2KI5xnUO2OlAMzsLtF4tcYJCsaxzOOlHvWaFCokNBn1FX0MTuvkHPQjMab04hWO6GopsCxX9aQ/s1729/Margaret%20Sanger.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1729" data-original-width="1432" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Rt2BzVblgPtlXUClu13bp6CLeNbfjUUgk32YWw13cpL83PKbRe-GWCJyPmsz2A9m3fdVEDkDXNBG33n-69GXTnCVAjvTFUmB3fKkGyzTDG3dBO2K2KI5xnUO2OlAMzsLtF4tcYJCsaxzOOlHvWaFCokNBn1FX0MTuvkHPQjMab04hWO6GopsCxX9aQ/s320/Margaret%20Sanger.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 9pt;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/">https://www.throughthehourglass.com</a></span></p><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-44515243118922306642022-03-12T09:40:00.001-05:002022-03-12T09:40:34.540-05:00View from the Train<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgG-cPnjosWFR03m4Y87R-dMPKOzQ7SyQ-9LCmzenYVZCk59hvooSHNUn1kVP2tOkkcjARUPHhaf645PVGJZ9kzQdYM2B1_GIGnZU-2JJuNPhHbNRGRLij9O56vHYLiX_3rnHBqSQtSF7hfHRj1hfNfSHzCQcyTX8I3ya1zzAwKpdWlh81W3kQNlzrlPw=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgG-cPnjosWFR03m4Y87R-dMPKOzQ7SyQ-9LCmzenYVZCk59hvooSHNUn1kVP2tOkkcjARUPHhaf645PVGJZ9kzQdYM2B1_GIGnZU-2JJuNPhHbNRGRLij9O56vHYLiX_3rnHBqSQtSF7hfHRj1hfNfSHzCQcyTX8I3ya1zzAwKpdWlh81W3kQNlzrlPw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386591112753293896.post-7790247429140140992022-03-02T07:55:00.002-05:002022-10-11T15:51:45.877-04:00Bad Guy Vignettes<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgb7HqNVEu0yGcSm2D1mq2rGahIDQJ5MPXLoZIqKVvTYKqe0SJaWfPCGijStoHlOB8swewrfWFwh6HkkF35buVtNpNv5mdMjPxMJ_IbnBtvU6eVfsw2R63XHrWkIEY8O0XTNBqsKuj4uhQ5HzZhVNe3j1NJh6vS4lFhzSNt2UB4qj5Bj08Mv2Fbkz6fHg=s488" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="334" data-original-width="488" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgb7HqNVEu0yGcSm2D1mq2rGahIDQJ5MPXLoZIqKVvTYKqe0SJaWfPCGijStoHlOB8swewrfWFwh6HkkF35buVtNpNv5mdMjPxMJ_IbnBtvU6eVfsw2R63XHrWkIEY8O0XTNBqsKuj4uhQ5HzZhVNe3j1NJh6vS4lFhzSNt2UB4qj5Bj08Mv2Fbkz6fHg=w640-h438" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"Manhattan: Central Park - The Majestic Apartments"</span><br />(New York Public Library Digital Collections)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">When my mother was a
student at Hunter College during the late 1940s, she routinely traveled south on
the A train from her family’s apartment in Inwood, a neighborhood at the tip of
northern Manhattan.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">She’d get on at 207<sup>th</sup>
Street and ride until 72<sup>nd</sup> Street. Then she would transfer to a
crosstown bus to the East Side, where Hunter is located.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Walking by the luxurious Majestic,
one of several Art Deco apartment buildings that had been built along Central Park West around 1930, my mother often spied a violet-colored Cadillac waiting
at the curb. One day she asked the doorman to whom it belonged and he told her
“Mr. Costello.” That was Frank Costello, the mobster who lived upstairs.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Ten years later, in May
1957, Costello would survive an assassination attempt in the Majestic’s lobby. A
few months went by before the FBI and the New York City police homed in on the
shooter: an “ex-pug”—pugilist—known as “the Chin.” He was Vincent Gigante, acting
on behalf of the Genovese family.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9QpZDJ25uT_ysqtZSAI5oQACww44SQ6muklEk8NBqt1sK7YN3nDnmCWPWvyCvDXzMzCZ9sQoElK-8m8SuAIM34a20Qp3ykPZgACooLamJvXO1ZuhGekRcLaUJ65-WOFaJR5xn7mn3sIr1MrzYvDE9MGGUGxupA-YfAcu8wi0lo5f8rB4GrDgAGT2zkw=s1081" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1081" data-original-width="642" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9QpZDJ25uT_ysqtZSAI5oQACww44SQ6muklEk8NBqt1sK7YN3nDnmCWPWvyCvDXzMzCZ9sQoElK-8m8SuAIM34a20Qp3ykPZgACooLamJvXO1ZuhGekRcLaUJ65-WOFaJR5xn7mn3sIr1MrzYvDE9MGGUGxupA-YfAcu8wi0lo5f8rB4GrDgAGT2zkw=w238-h400" width="238" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">The 25-year old Gigante wore
a size 50 suit and waddled when he walked. Some newspaper accounts referred to
him as “the Waddler” rather than “the Chin.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Gigante, his wife, and
four children lived downtown on Bleecker Street. The detectives staked out his
house around the clock. Yet Gigante eluded them until one August afternoon when
he showed up at the West 54<sup>th</sup> Street police station (accompanied by
his lawyer). “Do you want me in the Costello case?” he asked.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">“We sure do,” said Deputy
Inspector Fred Lussen. But Gigante would not cooperate, refusing to answer
questions.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I explained this to my
mother and she smiled and nodded. She wouldn’t have been paying attention in
the spring of 1957 because she had a brand-new bouncing baby boy, my older
brother.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhmmxrIExno59HjDESm--XkFXuBrXpsZW1_yTrizu1ygCVIjgcxiVI0M-ofKfP-t7d9YiRfovVKHCGWinJAIyGAvwGR6BpQEZmWHASTDfaL5JlDQ3W7GOmYeFLiJRuCSXZ0kt4qUjk3SJhKi7STtSijh8XLmhCkTXvtBuuTewLlFsKcrnUPf-m84Nyrxg=s2010" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2010" data-original-width="1819" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhmmxrIExno59HjDESm--XkFXuBrXpsZW1_yTrizu1ygCVIjgcxiVI0M-ofKfP-t7d9YiRfovVKHCGWinJAIyGAvwGR6BpQEZmWHASTDfaL5JlDQ3W7GOmYeFLiJRuCSXZ0kt4qUjk3SJhKi7STtSijh8XLmhCkTXvtBuuTewLlFsKcrnUPf-m84Nyrxg=w581-h640" width="581" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">1931 Dyckman Street shooting</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Then I told her that she’d
had a closer brush with gangsters up there in Inwood in 1931 when she was three
years old. It turns out that another three-year old girl, also named Gloria, was
shot to death at the end of a 90-minute gun battle between the police and two
robbers.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDRlpaqjJ815e8pWefZsQBdyYIqE9ou-dENivb6sLaeYdhQx7Ue6urb7SuYnzokQti0XlnmOAGRO33iqclVj6dTTwwV3Vbhvo5vves7N6Ioai5goYZfYrz8uBCTye1qQAxugDI_OuQZrAZOLCwmYGImNEthVCel5rCH2XoM5bhZ7-tHtEG9cfUV6Fa4A=s767" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="767" data-original-width="516" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDRlpaqjJ815e8pWefZsQBdyYIqE9ou-dENivb6sLaeYdhQx7Ue6urb7SuYnzokQti0XlnmOAGRO33iqclVj6dTTwwV3Vbhvo5vves7N6Ioai5goYZfYrz8uBCTye1qQAxugDI_OuQZrAZOLCwmYGImNEthVCel5rCH2XoM5bhZ7-tHtEG9cfUV6Fa4A=w269-h400" width="269" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Advertisement for Mendoza<br /><i>Fur Trade Review</i>, 1931</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Just before 5 o’clock on a
warm Friday afternoon, a policeman escorted the paymaster of the Mendoza Fur
Dyeing Company, who carried a payroll of $4,619 from a bank, through the
plant’s parking lot. Two robbers approached the car and shot the policeman and
threw the paymaster on the ground.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Then they led a chase that
ranged along twelve miles of streets in upper Manhattan and The Bronx. Six
people would die, both patrolmen and bystanders who were starting the weekend a
few minutes early as the season wound down toward Labor Day. The youngest victim
was little Gloria Lopez, whose mother Matilda told reporters that she and her
husband, a fireman, had tried for a decade to have a baby.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZoFnVjHcOhkPDgpIjcxR72WO7lawLCZGmc311I01iPy0o2CcWQwfyGpQwcOVNGGdCkugeQe4NYD1c7eBTV2leMMk_MfugiT16oPaDBcUuXrh-a1Gm9qAdEN5JaqQYtpfEd1rRG3u-yOAgpnkuCSGph2cuPzlmCshUjU_0QlWaf2MAHhDGH78OALUXJQ=s5023" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="516" data-original-width="5023" height="41" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZoFnVjHcOhkPDgpIjcxR72WO7lawLCZGmc311I01iPy0o2CcWQwfyGpQwcOVNGGdCkugeQe4NYD1c7eBTV2leMMk_MfugiT16oPaDBcUuXrh-a1Gm9qAdEN5JaqQYtpfEd1rRG3u-yOAgpnkuCSGph2cuPzlmCshUjU_0QlWaf2MAHhDGH78OALUXJQ=w400-h41" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The story made it into the Great Falls, Montana newspaper.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The chase finally ended
near the corner of Dyckman Street and Broadway in Inwood, an intersection that
remains a touchstone of my mother’s childhood memories.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">She was too young to
remember playboy Mayor Jimmy Walker, who presided over the city. At the time of
the shootings, Walker was traveling in Europe because New York State Governor
Franklin D. Roosevelt had appointed a commission which threatened to investigate
the Tammany Hall corruption that Walker enabled.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"></span></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4EltiRyX-b9MEJF5IEf9FEb0SLeYQn906SYEw0w_kV3-PSoVvzbdIIiWn5U9AEqDcglTlamk2qIs8v3gn4f7OG7UyS8pzijARyb4RzysufJFFxBeZ_TaWAzV-IJhK2KEP9WJIWAGeXMkBa3WQorr4ytSunf9R4bzBbsQ1RwcqFSuADcBTY-N09rXU1w=s2408" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2408" data-original-width="1219" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4EltiRyX-b9MEJF5IEf9FEb0SLeYQn906SYEw0w_kV3-PSoVvzbdIIiWn5U9AEqDcglTlamk2qIs8v3gn4f7OG7UyS8pzijARyb4RzysufJFFxBeZ_TaWAzV-IJhK2KEP9WJIWAGeXMkBa3WQorr4ytSunf9R4bzBbsQ1RwcqFSuADcBTY-N09rXU1w=w325-h640" width="325" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Meantime, Mayor Jimmy Walker was in<br />Germany "for his health."</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">In this way Walker resembled
previous mayors beholden to Tammany. But his indifference to the robbery and
deaths—which inspired the American Legion to offer to mobilize 30,000 members
to patrol the city with bayonetted rifles—was exceptionally offensive. </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">“Being 3,000 miles from
New York,” Walker told reporters, “I am ignorant of the circumstances of the
shooting. I cannot give any opinion.” Then he was off to a brewery in Pilsen, whose
mayor announced that Pilsen beer was not only an excellent but sanitary drink.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Jimmy Walker quaffed a
stein and commented that none of the cathedrals or museums he had visited in
Europe gave him greater pleasure than the beer. He hoped that the Pilsener sign
would soon return to New York, he said.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSiqS37ZO9tW7jnD4IwtDlnw9R4vwdn5WRvvjL14rRMJCz0p_5BmQ2bJrEYuIiDFm6q5RiU4BfarDlAAUc7mgpkSUzvVT7gO4pXfETIetzrXIOn_Vqh-pJUrEt_n2RY4POD-v1uRg9-rEakKNX4ApBgggsSDNtA2zBpyKzGN1efqgxr-e0jcpsd0KQTw=s525" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="525" data-original-width="430" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSiqS37ZO9tW7jnD4IwtDlnw9R4vwdn5WRvvjL14rRMJCz0p_5BmQ2bJrEYuIiDFm6q5RiU4BfarDlAAUc7mgpkSUzvVT7gO4pXfETIetzrXIOn_Vqh-pJUrEt_n2RY4POD-v1uRg9-rEakKNX4ApBgggsSDNtA2zBpyKzGN1efqgxr-e0jcpsd0KQTw=s320" width="262" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">My mother, Gloria (left), with an Inwood playmate, 1931</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">It would be two more years
before the repeal of Prohibition. In the meantime, Governor Roosevelt forced
Walker to resign and my mother continued to toddle around up and down Dyckman
Street, holding her mother’s hand. It could have been her caught in the
crosshairs, but then I wouldn’t be telling this story.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;">*In 1933, Mr. and Mrs.
Lopez became the parents of John. Jr. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.throughthehourglass.com/">https://www.throughthehourglass.com/</a><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://www.throughthehourglass.com/</div>Claudia Keenanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17302390896762308490noreply@blogger.com1