Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 11 October 1937 — Page 11
Vagabon * From Indiana — Ernie Pyle Alaskan Traveler Back
And It Seems Like a Second Home; He Finds Civilization Isn't So Bad.
EATTLE, Wash.,, Oct. 11. — Seems as though Seattle is becoming a second home. Funny how a fellow, for no reason, drifts frequently into a certain far place. It seems I've always been coming to Seattle. First in 1922, when I slept four in a bed with a bunch of boys trying to ship out to the Orient. again in 1926, when we lived miserably in a tent at
the edge of town, and got our tires |
full of nails. And then again last year, when we were older if not a great deal richer, so that we chose the comforts of a small hotel, and sat hour after hour looking out the window at the soft rain and the scurrying of shipping on the bay. And then we circled the whole United States. but last spring found me sitting at the same Seattle window looking out hour after hour at the same fascinating bay. ~ And now once more, back from Mr, Pyle far lands. and it seems more like home than ever. Right into the same corner rooms again, my two rooms you might call them, and not a thing has changed while I was away, not even a floor lamp moved by half an inch. The little suite is a bedroom and a parlor. Each room has a bath. The parlor has a divan, and easy chairs, and it is a corner room, and has many windows. And a bed too, an in-a-door bed, which I pull down at night. and one leg won't quite reach the floor. I've stopped in nearly 400 hotels in the last three years, but the little suite here is the homiest. I like Seattle. But it is hard for me to work in Seattle. Every time I hear a ferry blast or a freighter whistle, I jump to the window and look. It seems I'm standing at the window most of the day. I hardly ever get anything done,
Girl Distracts Him
And now, on this trip, there is another distraction too. Some girl keeps wandering in and out. She acts as though she knew me. I notice she wears an ivory necklace I bought in Nome, so there must be some connection. She says she's the girl who used to ride with me all the time. Her face is sort of familiar at that. She's heen out on the street with me a couple of times—she walks a few feet behind me, as befits her station, me being a man of the North. to know her place. Maybe I'll"let her stay and see how things turn out. All during the summer. pecple in Alaska told me that whenever they come “outside” to Seattle the autos and streetcars and hurly-burly almost scare them to death, and their feet get sore from walking on sidewalks, and they just can't get used to it at all. But as usual there's something wrong with me. The autos didn’t scare me a hit; I had their number before the taxi had me halfway to the hotel. And the sidewalks of Seattle don't hurt my feet half as much as the last five miles of walking on the beach at Good News Bay. I guess civilization and I get along all right together.
My Diary
By Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt
First Lady Back in Capital, Finds
Beauty of Washington Is Striking.
ASHINGTON, Sundav—Back in Washington early yesterday morning. Tt since I have been here and the beauty of the city, even with a gray sky overhead, strikes one forcibly. I have traveled so much in this country now that different cities have an individuality of their own for me. I never come back to Washington without feeling it is a fitting setting for the Government buildings of this great nation and a valuable symbol for those people who visit it to carry away as a mental picture. There is dignity, simplicity and beauty and a sense of solidity and permanence which is a good thing for us to have fixed in our souls. Mrs. Hopkins’ funeral was very touching and the church was filled with her friends. There was a profusion of flowers, the last gift we can make to those we love. The simplicity of the service made it seem very personal and very sweet. The rest of the day I worked catching up on mail and doing some writing I had not been able to finish before. After lunch. Mrs. Helm. with her little wire basket, sat down beside my desk with a 1938 calendar and in a brief half-hour the social season was planned. How short a time it takes to plan something which takes so much time in execution.
Co-Operate on Local Program
The President still has to approve the dates, but when that is cone the program will be copied and given to the head usher, the housekeeper. the social bureau and my own secretary, so that we may all co-operate in seeing that everything goes smoothly. Saturday afternoon, Mr. Basil Maine, an English author and musician and a friend of my husband's cousin. Mrs. Cyril Martineau, came to spend the
week-end. At tea time, William Phillips, our ambas- |
<ador to Italy, came in for a short time. It was a joy to hear news of Mrs. Phillips and the children.
There is a voung girl stopping with the family again this winter and it is going to be a great joy. She is a little cousin of mine, the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Forest Henderson, who is attending Miss Madeira’s School. I was beginning to feel IT had no voung people left, but this is going to make me feel much more natural for I like to have young life around the house.
New Books Today
HEN vou have finished R. E. Spencer's novel, “FELICITA” (Bobbs-Merrill Co.), vou probably will want to read it again. You wiil want the jov of finding landmarks, hidden on the first reading, that mark Malcolm Burke's path from a life of cold, intellectual distinction to the discovery of real happiness in unreality and death. The offer of an undisturbed summer in a friend's country house finds Malcolm Burke, crippled, ascetic critic, at the end of a blind alley. His creative powers are exhausted and the years that have brought him past middle age seem meaningless in retrospect. In the new quietness, the years’ repressions dissclve, and in their place gomes the desire to capture truth and love. His desire turns first to contemplation of a novel about this great, old house and the whisper of its brooding peace. . . . Instead he finds love in Felicita, lovely woman of his mind's creation. And when he dies, it is only that he chooses death at the moment of his greatest happiness. In spite of its theme of insanity and death, «“pelicita” is a pleasant book. The delicate balance between fantasy and reality is never lost. The fact that the author is an Indianapolis man may give readers an added incentive to know “Felicita.”—(By J. T.) = »
" Public Library Presents— IH his customary journalistic ease Lowell Thomas tells. in dramatic story and picture. of the greatest of all Ohio Valley floods. HUNGRY WATERS (Winston), actually an excellent news reel in bock form, contains also a brief retelling of the floods of myth and history. from the Great Deluge to Canada’s flood of 1937. The devastating power of rushing, creeping, treacherous waters has been proved over and over again. “Will thriftless America waken and do something about it?” is Mr. Thomas’ question. Contour plowing, farm dams, river and creek dams, reforestation, protecting levees, and even the removal of habitations from the worst flood areas have been proposed. It was Capt. Lewis A. Pick, of the U. S Army, who voiced, in 1927, the real solution to the whole problem: “Find out what Old Man River wants to do, then help him do it.”
& (Additional Books, Page 13) 4
in Seattle |
And |
She seems |
is some months |
{ ay
\
MONDAY, OCTOBER 11, 1937
The Indianapolis Times
at Postoffice,
All Aboard for Hollywood!
Times Movie Contest Winner to Enjoy Same Plane Luxury as Stars
2
The movie stars like to travel in American One of their favorite ships will take The Times “Seek-A-Star Silhouette” contest winner to Hollywood to visit the stars at work and play.
Airlines luxury Skysleepers and Flagships.
Dennis King (1), film and radio favorite, is among the air travel fans. Maureen O'Sullivan, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer player, is shown (2) being greeted by Steward-
Side Glances—By Clark
@
ess Judith Wood, as she arrived at the aaport to embark on a plane journey. Dixie Dunbar, winsome Twentieth Century Fox star, is shown (3) enjoying a drink of refreshing milk as her plane speeds smoothly through the clouds. Shirley Temple (4) isn’t to be outdone hy her elders of Hollywood fame and little “Curly Top” is all smiles at the start of a sky trip.
©= Harriet Hilliard (5), Paramount star and radio singer, flashes one of her best smiles to friends and fans just before boarding her plane. Dave Rubinoff (6) takes the violin with which he has played himself into the favoritism of millions along with him as he hoards an American Airlines luxury liner for the trip to
another concert scene.
By Mrs. Walter Ferguson
aA Wc RD {7
COPR. 1937 BY NEA SERVICE. INC. T. M. REG. U. S. PAT. OFF.
NA
22 ”~
frightening
HERE is something our trailer
in the increase of population. While many of the ve-| | hicles on the highways during the | summer were only temporary refu- | gees for pleasure, there are zany | number of permanent settlements of inhabitants whose only home is the new covered wagons. | We used to feel sorrv for these | people when I was young. We called | them “movers,” and they were al- | ways spoken of as shiftless. They | picked up odd jobs along ‘the way, and during the season all would pitch into cotton picking, their only real source of revenue for the vear. No doubt many of them were good { people suffering from misfortunes | they could not overcome. The point | | is that they were not considered | | good Americans because they did | nothing constructive and they had | | no roots. | Today there is a growing senti- | | ment, often openly expressed, that | { the modern trailer dweller is a smart | | fellow with sense enough to cast| | | worry to the winds and lead the! § gypsy life. Doesn't he get away from | a lot of taxes, all civic responsibility | {and even get free food in some | | cases? Many things have changed since I | | vas young, but nothing more than | the general conception of what a good American is. Thirty years ago he was somebody who did something | constructive for his community, and | who was more concerned about the character of his children than the | size of his fortune. It didn't make | | much difference whether he had a
0-1
"Have you any old empty cans? We're hunting for something
to shoot at."
| profession or not. He was respected because he was useful and did his
sn A WOMAN'S VIEW Jasper—By Frank Owen
al
a
i
ARN
NNN Ny «|
9
fii Copr. 1937 by United Feature Syndicate, ine.
"We can forget about the coal bill this winter—one of Jasper's
girls sent his letters back!"
Second Section
PAGE 11
Ina.
Our Town
By Anton Scherrer
Development at Mount Jackson Sprang From a Lowly Sheep Lot In Days of Toll Gate and Still.
DIDN'T have room Saturday to tell you about Leonidas Hudson, another oldtimer of Mount Jackson. Everybody calls him Lon, even if he is 82 years old. When Mr. Hudson came to Mount Jacke
son, all he saw was the Insane Hospital, a toll gate, Baker's distillery and a little cluster of homes huddled around Chris Busch’s 6x6 shoe shop on W, Washington St. The rest was a pastoral scene, moste
ly sheep pasture, owned by Obadiah Harris. Well, Mr. Harris had a promising son, and I guess the old man knew it, because when it came time for him to die, he appointed his son administrator of the estate. Anyway, it was Obadiah's son who turned the sheep pasture into a real estate addition. It was he, too, who named all streets in the addition after mem- Mr bers of his family. That's why you run across Harris Ave. out » there, and streets with names like Bertha, Ida and Victoria. To hear Mr. Hudson tell it. Obadiah’s son couldn't have picked a better time for his enterprise, because the way things worked out he profited by the love affairs across the street at the Insane Hospital. It's a fact, because back in those days hardly a month went by without some employee of the hospital falle ing in love with some pretty nurse under the same roof. It even went farther, because most of the matches ended in marriages. Mr. Hudson, for example, found his sweetheart there, and so did Dave Sprinkle, and John Sullivan, and Bryce Martin, and goodness knows who else, With such a start, Obadiah’s son didn’t have anything to worry about, At that, a number of good prospects got away from him. Robert Emmett Kelleher's father, for instance, brought his bride to Indianapolis to live, and so did Mike Morrissey’'s father. Outside of that, though, Mr. Harris sold most of his lots to men and women who met and married at the hospital,
Sponsored Schoolhouses
To get back to Mr. Hudson—when he came to Mount Jackson, he went to work for Hiram W. Miller who ran a brickyard at the time. On the side, Mr, Miller was trustee of Wayne Township, and it was during his administration that they built the school« houses at Clermont, Bridgeport and Mount Jackson. Trustee Miller furnished the brick, and nobody thought anything about it The Mount Jackson schoolhouse came to he known as No. 50. There isn't a thing left of it today except a little pile of brickbats. On the other hand, Baker's distillery is still a part of the landscape, and so is Chris Busch's cobbler shop. Chris Busch, by the way, was the cobbler who pegged his customer's shoes with a book in front of him. Legend has it that he was every bit as smart as Hans Sachs. Neither did anybody know anything about the medicinal water at Mount Jackson when Mr. Hudson got there. That didn't turn up until 1888. One day they drilled for natural gas, says Mr. Hudson, and got the Mount Jackson water for their pains,
. Scherrer
Jane Jordan—
Wife Told Her Letter to Husband
May Be Trick in Suit for Divorce. EAR JANE JORDAN-—My husband left me five years ago and, although he has a good job with big wages, I have to be content with a pitifully small amount because the law says he is not responsible for a home he doesn’t share. Our two children are work« ing, but one is about to be married and the other ree fuses to give me any more than he would have to pay board elsewhere. I have written my husband dozens of times begging, threatening and demanding more money, but he seldom answers my letters. I have worked hard for more than 15 years so the children and I could have nice clothes, but I have had very few since my husband left me.
Some months ago he wrote and said he would come back if IT would agree to live on a budget and quit my job and not question him about what he does with the balance of his pay, but after handling his wages for so many years and being the boss of my home, I couldn't give in to his selfish idea. I wrote that he couldn't come back unless he let me manage the money as before. I am religious and don't like to lie, but decided it was permissible in this case; so I wrote again that I would take him back on his terms, think« ing I could bring him around to mine after I got him back, but before I mailed the letter he had sued for divorce. There ‘is another woman who owns a farm. If he marries her he will probably quit his job and I will get nothing. A lawyer said I could sue and get the farm but he won't take the case unless I pay him $50 cash. What I am afraid of is that letter I wrote telling him he couldn't come back unless he gave me all of his wages. The marriage vows sav a man must endow his wife with all his worldly goods but the law doesn’t think so. I don’t want the children to know I wrote him that, for they are modern and would think me selfish. What can I do to keep from losing out al= together? WORRIED. on ” ” Answer—I am afraid vou have brought your troue bles on vourself. It is very shortsighted of a woman to demand control of her husband's money when he objects to it, because so many men regard money as a symbol of power and the loss of it signifies a loss of power. In handing their wages over to a woman these men react as if they had lost their self-respect. With individuals who are easily discouraged, the loss of the family purse strings may result in complete loss of ambition. In his efforts to punish his wife for usurping the masculine role, a man may refuse to work at all, or remain in a poorly paid position with= out ambition to progress. Outwardly he may comply with meakness and humility but his inner resentment is expressed in his passive resistance against earning any more for his wife to spend. More aggressive types do what your husband has done: They either put up a roar or walk out. Your letter makes it fairlv obvious that you aren't interested in the man himself, but in his worldly goods,
I do not believe in the sincerity of your husband’s offer to come back if you would live on a budget but regard it as a trick to get you to put your attitude on paper and thereby furnish him with grounds for divorce. You have been too grasping in your attitude and have ended up with empty hands. I do not know how to help you. JANE JORDAN,
Jane Jordan will study vour problems for you and answer your questions in this column daily.
Walter O'Keefe —
HE three witches in Macbeth never stirred up a more potent evil broth than is being cooked up right now by Germany, Italy and Japan. If these three nations line up against the threes democracies we'll have a real world series. President Roosevelt threw a “bean ball” at the aggressor nations the other day and so Mussolini dee
| cided te call home his son, Vittorio, who was in Hollys
wood learning the moving picture business. The West Coast colony bubbled over with antis Fascist protest meetings and apparently TI Duchay figures Vittorio will find more peace with his brother Bruno, who's visiting Spain with a bombing squadron.