The Barbershop

Visiting a barbershop was not something most girls did in the waning hours of the afternoon when school let out.  I’m not even sure how it all started, but when I was a kid, one of my besties, Carol, and I used to walk along Jefferson Avenue in Detroit on our way home from school.  It was just part of our daily routine in the late sixties.  One of the businesses we passed was a barbershop with its red, white and blue pole swirling near the door.  All of the local gents got haircuts at Andy’s including Carol’s dad and my grandpa.  Andy was hardly a stranger, but not normally someone we’d hang out with.  I remember his thick accent that to my young ears sounded Scottish, but may have been Irish or English.  I’m not even sure his first name was ‘Andy’, but that was what everyone called him.

Andy always had a smile and for some reason took a liking to Carol and me.  He’d see us walking by and wave.  We’d wave back.  Before long, and only if he wasn’t busy, we’d step inside the shop just to say hello.  That’s when we learned that Andy had a son named David and. let it be known to all, Andy was one proud Poppa!  David was an actor currently working in England in a Peter Ustinov production of ‘You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown’.  David played Charlie.  Whenever Andy received a letter from his son, he’d wave us in with such excitement you would have thought he’d heard from the Queen herself.  Carol and I would each settle in one of his chairs and he would read David’s letter out loud. 

One particular afternoon, we were walking by and Andy waved us in.  He had a letter in his hand that he wanted to share, but there were customers waiting.  We looked at each other and made an executive decision—we didn’t stop.  We simply waved and kept on going.  The next afternoon, Andy was waiting for us.  His arms folded and a frown on his normally happy face.  “You girls saw me waving at you yesterday, but you didn’t come in.”

“You had a lot of customers,” we tried to explain.  “We didn’t want to be a bother.”

“I don’t care if my customers are hanging off the ceiling,” he shook his head.  “If I wave you girls in, you come inside.”  And just like that he was smiling again.  “I got a letter from David.” 

So in we went and this time Andy was very pleased.  David had mentioned his sister.  Andy’s daughter had died some time ago.  I believe she had cancer and she left a husband and small children.  David apparently was devastated and never talked about her—until now.  Andy just couldn’t wait to share that bit of news with us.  One afternoon, he waved us in not because he had heard from David, but because he had gotten a handwritten note from Dame Judith Anderson singing his son’s praises.  She was impressed not only with his talent, but also his work ethic and gentlemanly ways.  She wanted Andy to know what a fine son he'd raised.  I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

The barbershop is long gone and I’m sure Andy is no longer with us.  I don’t know what happened to David, but I will always remember our visits with Andy and the way his face lit up whenever he received a letter from his son.

 

It Happened in Hoboken...

Long before the seventh inning stretch and the glory of the grand slam, the original boys of summer took a road trip.  They left New York and crossed the Hudson River into New Jersey following their fearless leader, Alexander Joy Cartwright, a member of the New York Knickerbockers Fire Fighting Brigade, who also happened to organize baseball in his spare time. 

Cartwright and his pals regularly played ‘town ball’, an early version of baseball, on a vacant lot in Manhattan.  Forced off their makeshift playground, the loosely formed group had to get creative so in 1845, they traveled to Elysian Fields in Hoboken—a picturesque park in what was then the New Jersey countryside.  It was also conveniently located near several well-known watering holes where, after a spirited game, the men could gather to commiserate or celebrate, whichever the case may be.  For an annual fee of $75, they rented the place.  Cartwright formally organized the team he called ‘The Knickerbockers’ so he could charge dues and cover the cost.   

The official boys of summer now needed official rules to play by.  Cartwright, and his committee of four, came up with twenty.  Among them, members had to be punctual; bases were to be 42 paces apart; balls knocked outside of first and third base were considered foul and out of play; umpires made the final decisions—no appeals allowed.  He also thought that the game should be played until one team earned 21 aces, or runs, with both sides always having an equal number of batters.  These new rules also put a stop to ‘soaking’—making an out by hitting a runner with the ball.  Ouch! 

Not all of the Knickerbockers were happy campers, however.  Some of them didn’t like the idea of traveling all the way to New Jersey for practice so these homebodies stayed behind and called themselves ‘The New York Club’ or ‘The New York Nine’.  It was just as well because you need two official teams to play an official game of baseball anyway.   

The first formal baseball game played at Elysian Fields was scheduled for June 19, 1846.  The Knickerbockers even wore uniforms—white flannel shirts, blue woolen pants and straw hats.  Players that day included Wall Street clerk Henry Anthony and commercial merchant Daniel Tryon, but Cartwright himself didn’t play.  He took on the role of umpire instead.  With Cartwright calling the shots, the New York Nine soundly trounced his Knickerbockers, 23-1, in just four innings.  In all fairness, the Knickerbockers kept their best hitters on the bench. They thought it would better balance the game.   

The afternoon wasn’t without incident, however.  Cartwright fined one player, six cents for swearing.  Luckily, no one argued with the ump (25 cent fine) or disobeyed the team captain (50 cent fine).  There were obviously no hard feelings because afterward both sides shared a gala dinner and the New York Nine all eventually returned to the Knickerbockers team.   

Over the next ten years, as other cities formed their own baseball teams and competition increased, the Knickerbockers ruled the roost.  By the 1870s, however, when the National League took shape, those first boys of summer had since faded into baseball history. 

Punxsutawney Phil

So Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow—another six weeks of winter!  Sheesh! 

Groundhog Day can be traced back to Candlemas Day, which was celebrated by early European Christians on February 2nd when clergy members blessed and handed out candles.  Since February is right in the middle of the winter solstice and the spring equinox, the weather that day was of great importance.  If the sun were shining, winter would continue, but if the day brought clouds and rain, winter was over.  The Germans added their own twist to Candlemas Day when they used a hedgehog.  As they settled in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, about 80 miles northeast of Pittsburgh, the migrating Germans brought their Candlemas tradition with them.  The only problem was a lack of hedgehogs.  Undetterred, they improvised with groundhogs.

The first official Groundhog Day was celebrated on February 2, 1886 when Punxsutawney townsfolk gathered together for a groundhog hunt.  Even the local newspaper proclaimed it Groundhog Day and reported that the animal had not seen its shadow.  The following year, The Punxsutawney Groundhog Club gathered at Gobbler’s Knob, where they still meet today, and christened Punxsutawney ‘the weather capitol of the world’.  The group also officially named their soon to be famous groundhog: “Punxsutawney Phil, Seer of Seers, Sage of Sages, Prognosticator of Prognosticators and Weather Prophet Extraordinary”. 

Punxsutawney folklore claims that there has never been more than one official weather-forecasting groundhog.  Unlike most groundhogs who live a mere six to eight years, Punxsutawney Phil is over 120.  He stays fit by sipping Groundhog Punch, which adds seven years to his life every time he swigs it.  When he’s not predicting weather, Phil and his wife, Phyllis, live in a climate controlled area known as The Groundhog Zoo, which is conveniently connected to the Punxsutawney Library.  The couple is cared for by the Inner Circle—those fellows who crowd around Phil wearing top hats and tuxedos as he looks for his shadow.  Once Phil decides if spring will come early or not, he announces his prediction to the Club President in Groundhogese.  In turn, the president translates Phil’s words to the rest of the world.

Sometimes, Phil dishes about more than just the weather.  During Prohibition, he demanded a drink and in 1981, he donned a yellow ribbon to remind everyone of the American hostages in Iran.  In 1993, Phil was immortalized over and over in the hit movie, Groundhog Day, starring Bill Murray.

With his flair for predicting the weather, Punxsutawney Phil and his celebrated shadow will continue their annual tradition at Gobbler’s Knob—unless the Groundhog Punch runs out.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas

Excerpt adapted from The Boomer Book of Christmas Memories, by Vickey Kall

What is Christmas without the Grinch?
Well, since 1957 anyway--the year the book How the Grinch Stole Christmas was first published. Did you know that the book itself was an immediate bestseller?

The author, Dr. Seuss (Ted Geisel), was already a proven success, so the publisher printed 50,000 copies--a new high for a children's book. Macy's had its first $2 million dollar day on December 10, 1957, thanks to sales of that book--and the $2 million record was for any department store, not just Macy's.

Dr. Seuss was friends with Chuck Jones, who headed up the animation department of MGM. Jones had been the genius behind hundreds of Looney Toons and Merrie Melody cartoons. Their friendship  went back to World War II, when Jones and Seuss--who of course went by the name Geisel then--collaborated to produce a series of educational cartoons for the army about Private Snafu.  Snafu--as his name suggests--did everything wrong and suffered the consequences.

Jones suggested  working together to produce a Christmas special from the Grinch book. Dr. Seuss said no--but fortunately Mrs. Seuss (Helen Geisel) convinced her husband to reconsider.

In the book, the Grinch himself is as white as copy paper, and he does not look much more ferocious than, say, the Cat in the Hat. As the show came together, though, the Grinch got more and more evil looking. His frown turned farther down, and his and body became green.

Only three actors lent their voices to How the Grinch Stole Christmas, one of them being Boris Karloff--who, already in his late 70s, narrated the piece and played the Grinch as well.
He also voiced several of the Whos. Altogether, that was quite a linguistic feat since Karloff suffered from emphysema and painful arthritis.

That's Karloff with Chuck Jones, to the left.
One day Dr. Seuss brought a friend, who happened to be a cardiologist, to listen to one of the recording sessions.  The doctor told Seuss that Karloff was so ill he doubted he'd survive much longer. Karloff, however, went on to make four more movies before his death in 1969.

Although he didn't get a screen credit on the original show, Thurl Ravenscroft sang the song "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch."

Know where else you've heard that marvelous bass voice? He played the cartoon Paul Bunyon, sang in The Aristocats, Cinderella, and Lady and the Tramp, and his voice is played daily at Disneyland on several rides, including Pirates of the Caribbean and the Haunted Mansion.

But Thurl Ravenscroft biggest claim to fame (aside from having one of the coolest names in the world) is his fifty years as Tony the Tiger. Yup, his was the voice that roared "They're grrrrrreat!" for five decades, until his death in 2005.

Lastly, Cindy Lou Who was played by June Foray, a prolific and well-known voice actor who started on the radio in the 1930s and is still working. She was Lucifer the Cat in Cinderella (co-star Thurl Ravenscroft played a mouse) and played Rocky the Flying Squirrel (as well as Natasha, the evil secret agent) on television. She is one of the most famous cartoon voices ever, but a lot of her work was done without credit--including, initially, How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

The cast recording won a Grammy award in 1968, and CBS showed the cartoon every year from 1966 until 1987 when Turner Broadcasting bought MGM's catalogue (MGM was officially the producer). SInce then, How the Grinch Stole Christmas shows up annually on Turner-owned stations.

Did you like this story? The best part is, it's all true!
You can find many more entertaining anecdotes and secret histories in The Boomer Book of Christmas Memories on Amazon, in print or eBook form. Both are in full color and make perfect holiday gifts for the Baby Boomers in your life!

Ten Things You Should Know About Witches

Picture this:  three witches cackling over a black cauldron as they stir their magic brew at midnight under a full moon.  Frightening yet fascinating characters, witches have long roused our curiosity and awakened our interest. Yet, there are some things that even good witches may not want you to know.  So here are a list of ‘witch facts’ that might come in handy one dark and dismal night.  After all, you can never be too careful, now can you? 

--To stop a witch from flying down your chimney, place a horseshoe in it.

--Watch where you spit; a witch might take or saliva and use it for evildoings.

--If you burn an elder tree, you are inviting a witch into your home.

--Witches’ cakes are made with rye, barley, herbs, water and a cup of baby’s urine so once you’ve burned the elder tree don’t ask her to bring the dessert.

--Witches can super-size the power of their spells by shaking their hair.

--Any witch will tell you that the best magic wands are made from hazel wood.  (The rest just don’t measure up.)

--Witches can’t shed tears so don’t let ‘em fool you when they pretend to cry.

--Witches raise storms at sea by catching spiders in pots.

--Witches’ brooms are not jet-propelled.  If she intends to fly, a witch must first rub on flying ointment before hopping on her broom.

--And finally, but most important of all—to protect yourself against the evil eye, bad luck and illness, spit in your right shoe every morning.

Consider yourself warned and now well-prepared for Halloween!  Happy Hauntings!

 

 

My Writing Process

I’ve been tagged to do the Writing Process Blog Post by Vickey Kalambakal. You can read her blog post here: http://www.kalambakal.com/2014/8/27/my-writing-process/.

If you follow these posts–which you can on Twitter by using #MyWritingProcess–you’ll see the wide variety of practices that creativity engenders. We all do it differently, there’s no one right way to write.  Which can be comforting where you encounter dogmatic rules or teachers who insist that their method is best.

So, here are my answers to the four questions:

1. What Are You Working On?

I seem to be juggling a few things at the moment.  I am finishing up an article for the winter issue of Scoliosis Quarterly Magazine and I have just been asked to write two more pieces for their Spring Issue next year.  Nothing like planning ahead, but it’s all good.  One of the Spring articles requires that I interview two physicians—one in Italy and one in Spain!  Can anyone spell S-K-Y-P-E?  Hopefully, English won’t be a problem! 

I am also in the midst of co-writing an historical novel called Secret Hero.  It’s based on a real woman who disguised herself as a man and enlisted in the Union Army with a Michigan troop.  Remarkable story about a remarkable lady.  Then there is my next Hollywood book that I try to fit in as best as I can.  Hollywood history is still my favorite topic as most of you who follow my Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/pages/Hollywood-Tales-from-Tinseltown-with-Debra-Ann-Pawlak/111910342180494?ref=hl) already know.  

2. How Does Your Work Differ from Others of Its Genre?

I don’t think much about genre, but for the most part I write historical pieces.  All three of my published books (and one CD) are non-fiction.  I love the challenge of researching and getting it right.  I do not, however, like to write dry textbook-type material.  My goal is always to educate AND entertain.  I love finding obscure facts and sharing those facts with readers.  The key is research and persistence to keep looking for the truth.  There are so many fallacies out there (especially in cyberspace) and it’s often difficult to muddle through.  But without accuracy, your work and your integrity as a writer are questionable.  I never want to be in that position.  It can get tedious and there are days I wish I could just make stuff up—but I am not so good at that so I do my best to stick to the facts!

Of course, sometimes, the facts can be surprising.  For example, while researching Jeanne MacPherson whom I wrote about as one of the 36 Academy Founders in ‘Bringing Up Oscar’, I found several references about her mother noting she was a fine lady from France.  After days of searching, however, the truth, was finally revealed—MacPherson’s mother was really a Michigan gal, born to a man who ran a local newspaper.  Franch had nothing to do with it.

And, sometimes, facts can be found in the oddest of places.  For one article I was writing, I needed to verify that a man who died in the 1800s really had two daughters.  I researched for days until I came across a small article in an old British newspaper.  It seems his mother had died and an ad appeared in the paper looking for her two granddaughters as they were her only living relatives and she had left her estate to them.  Who knew that a newspaper ad printed more than 150 years ago would tell the true tale?

 3. Why Do You Write What You Do?

Mostly, I write about things or people that interest me.  Other times, I might be assigned a topic by a trusted editor.  I am always open to learning new things and that is what usually happens when I take on assignments for Scoliosis Quarterly.  Writing about genetic testing, cutting-edge surgeries and the history of back-bracing all taught me something that I didn’t know before.  Hopefully, my readers learned something, too. 

Sometimes, I get assignments that become personal—like when the editor of Michigan History Magazine asked me to write an article on entertainer/philanthropist Danny Thomas, founder of St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital in Memphis, Tennesse.  I was honored since my grandparents knew Thomas in his early days when he was still Amos Jacob and working in Detroit radio.  They were always proud of his accomplishments and growing up I remember the entire household gathering around the television whenever he appeared.  Best of all, I got the cover story for that issue and emails from St. Jude’s thanking me for doing such a fine job.  Of course, Danny Thomas was the one who did all the work. 

4. How Does Your Writing Process Work?

Before I begin writing anything, I like to gather my research materials.  I use online articles as a start and then I comb old newspapers and magazines that have been digitalized.  From there, I find books that contain information about my topic.  I often use my library’s ‘inter-loan’ service and borrow books from as far away as California or Florida.  It takes a little time, but it’s almost always worth the wait.  Once I read through everything, I write a draft.  I am obsessive about making that draft as close to perfect as possible.  This is silly because a draft is a draft and not meant to be flawless, but for some reason I can’t help myself.  On my second go round, I correct any errors, fill in any blanks and round out the article with additional information like quotes or anecdotes.  Next, I remove all of the unnecessary words and phrases because I tend to get wordy.  Then after a break, that may be as short as overnight or as long as a week (depending on other projects), I do a final polish by reading aloud before submitting the work to the editor/publisher.  There is something about hearing the rhythm of the words that helps smooth things out.

For books and lengthier pieces, I always enlist friends to read them over for clarity.  I also have someone read aloud to me so I can hear exactly what I’ve written.  It really makes a difference when correcting word flow.

Now I Tag Three Other Bloggers:

The problem here is that I only have two bloggers—not three.  So if anyone is interested in participating , let me know and I will include you here. 

Mary Glickman, author of Home in the Morning, One More River, a National Jewish Book Award Finalist , and Marching to Zion. Glickman lives on Johns Island, South Carolina with her husband and cat." That's enough, isn't it? And I'll be blogging my answers at www.maryglickman.com

From an early age, Martin Turnbull was enchanted with the old movies from — and the history of — Hollywood’s golden era, from the dawn of the talkies in the late 1920s to the dusk of the studio system in the late 1950s. He has spent many happy hours watching Garland, Gable, Crawford, Garbo, Grant, Miller, Kelly, Astaire, and Rogers go through their paces. So it’s no great surprise that he is now writing a series of historical novels set in and around the real-life Garden of Allah hotel, which stood on Sunset Boulevard from 1927 to 1959: the exact same years of Hollywood greatest years.  You can read his blog at:  http://martinturnbull.wordpress.com/ 

 

 

The Flying Baroness

Elise Deroche was born on August 22, 1886 to a plumber and his wife in an average Parisian neighborhood.  Growing into a tall, shapely woman with long dark hair and expressive brown eyes, she chose life in the theater.  Success on the stage combined with her keen sense of style turned Elise into a popular figure.  In keeping with her image, she soon changed her name to Raymonde de Laroche and later added the royal title of ‘Baroness’.  Somehow, it had a more dramatic ring to it. 

A flamboyant character, she claimed to be a lot of things including a painter, a sculptor, and an experienced balloonist.  Determined to add pilot to her list of careers, she called upon French aviator (and some believe her lover) Charles Voisin to teach her to fly.  In 1909, at the age of 23, de Laroche met Voisin at the Chậlons airfield where he and his brother, Gabriel, built and flew their own planes.

The Voisin was a one-seater forcing the pupil to sit alone in the plane while the trainer shouted orders from the ground.  De Laroche was told to drive the plane along the airfield.  When she reached the other side, a mechanic turned the plan around and she drove back to where she started.  She was not, under any circumstances, to lift off.  After her first taxi around the field, however, she was ready for take-off.  Against her instructor’s orders, she opened up the throttle, raced down the airstrip and rose about fifteen feet in the air.

Within a few months, de Laroche was more confident in her flying skills, but on January 4, 1910, she had a mishap.  Misjudging the height of several trees that stood on one end of the field, she caught the tail of her aeroplane in their branches.  The flying machine crash-landed.  Luckily, de Laroche suffered nothing more than a broken collarbone and a few nasty bruises.  The accident, however, did not deter her ambition to become the world’s first female licensed pilot.  It spurred her on even more and three months later, de Laroche duly impressed the French officials with her flying skills.  She was awarded pilot’s license #36—the first ever given to a woman. 

As a barnstormer, she traveled the world.  In St. Petersburg, Russia, de Laroche caught the attention of Czar Nicholas II as she flew over a small airfield where smoking chimneys not only reduced visibility, but also caused unstable air currents.  After circling the field more than 300 feet above the ground, she simply turned off her engine and glided back down leaving the crowd and the Czar in awe.

From Russia, she traveled to Budapest where more chimneys wreaked even more havoc.  Here, however, de Laroche took first place.  Not because she won, but because no one else would try the 68 mile flight in the erratic atmosphere.  Next stop?  Rouen, Normandy where the air currents were worse.  Caught in a storm, she crash-landed into the fence that surrounded the field.  Thinking quickly, she kept the engine running so the aeroplane wouldn’t plunge into the spectators.  The Baroness got off lucky that time suffering only a concussion and another broken collarbone.

Later that summer, at Rheims in northern France, the Seconde Grande Semaine found de Laroche the only woman pitted against several men.  On the sixth day of the competition the Baroness’ luck ran out.  As she flew approximately 200 feet above the ground, her aeroplane crashed and she suffered a broken arm and two broken legs.  Undeterred, she was back in the pilot’s seat two years later.

This time, her eye was on a prize of 2,000 francs offered by Pierre Lafitte owner of the popular French women’s magazine, Fémina, and sponsor of the Coup de Fémina air competition for women.  The money would be awarded to the female pilot who flew the longest distance alone by December 31, 1912, but an automobile accident changed her plans.

She and Voisin were driving near Lyons on September 25^th when they collided with another car.  Voison died at the scene and Raymonde suffered serious injuries.  Voisin’s death left the world of aviation in a tailspin and devastated the Baroness, but she was more determined than ever to return to the air. After surviving yet another auto accident, de Laroche took to the skies in 1913 hoping for a second chance at the coveted Coup de Fémina.  On November 29^th, she flew a total of 200 miles in only four hours.  She could have flown farther, but a problematic gas line forced her down.  By year-end, no one single female flyer had done any better allowing the Baroness to claim the prize. 

With the onset of World War I in 1914, civilian flying came to a halt, but as soon as the war ended in 1918, de Laroche was back in the pilot’s seat.  Much to her delight, she found the newer airplanes sleeker, faster and easier to handle.  With a new Caudron G3, the Baroness broke the women’s altitude record by climbing almost 13,000 feet at Issy-les-Moulineaux on June 7, 1919.  Three days later, American flyer Ruth Law bested that record by flying 14,000 feet in the air.  Not to be outdone, de Laroche reached an astonishing 15,000 feet on June 12^th. 

On July 18, 1919, the Baroness visited Le Crotoy airfield where she one of the test pilots offered her a ride in one of the newest flying machines.  Eyewitnesses said that as the plane came in for a landing, it swerved awkwardly and then went into a spinning dive, which sent it plummeting to earth.  The 33 year-old Baroness was dead at the scene and the pilot succumbed on his way to the hospital.  A statue honoring her stands at Le Bourget airport in Paris.