Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 29 August 1952 — Page 19
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Inside Indianapolis By Ed Sovola
“ON MEMORIAL DAY, Fourth of July and Labor Day week ends it's a practice at our house to leave the car in the garage.” If you do as J. Clayton (Cotton) Hughes, executive secretary of the Indianapolis Education Association, does, Labor Day statistics won't interest you much. Unless of course, among the statistics you find a friend or member of your family. Every holiday it's the same story about traffic deaths. Many of us have heard the safety chant for years and have become immune to the noise. Just as the factory worker becomes used to machinery running. S&B STATISTICS are dull, sometimes shocking for a few minutes to the living. The dead don't care. For example, last year Labor Day traffic accidents claimed 403 lives on U. 8. highways. In 1950 the total \for three days was 389 lives. An all-time -high was reached in 1949 when 410 persons were killed, In Indiana last year, 15 persons were killed over the Labor Day holiday. Does the figure throw you? Probably not. The figure jolts men such as Robert O'Neal. Superintendent of the Indiana State Police, and his keeper of Pecords, Capt. Harry A. Sutherlin. > Sa AND AFTER you listen to them tell of ‘the simple mistakes, repeated over and over, causing death and injury, you feel like throwing up your hands and quitting, Why be concerned? Why pound the same old story of safety when no one listens? Those who could speak eloquently on the subject will never speak again. Obviously no one listens when every holiday 300 and 400 die violent deaths in automobiles. Bob O'Neal stops you by asking: “How do You koow even ene word of caution won’t save a life?” You don’t know. You'll never know. Then the picture the men paint from the material in their files begins to jell. Of the 15 killed last year in Indiana, the oldest was 78 and the youngest was 5 months. You, the reader, are in that age bracket somewhere. THIRTEEN of the 15 fatalities occurred in rural areas, on the open road, the fast road. Two persons were killed in urban areas. Speed was the
It Happened Last Night
By Earl Wilson
JUAREZ, Mexico, Aug. 29-—-The Beautiful Wife and I crossed the historic Rio Grande the brave way—by streetcar. And while walking and gawking down Juarez Ave. we saw a sign that shouted “DIVORCES.” “Buy me a Mexican divorce, Daddy,” the B. W. coaxed. “They're so chic this season. Everybody who's anybody’s getting one. Tommy Manville's getting two.” “How much are your best divorces today,” I asked the lawyer. But < let me tell it from the beginning. Over in El Paso, I put on my Texas sombrero, given to me in Rapid City, 8. D.—my Hawaiian shirt — my slacks from Irving Heller in New York. I was a hash of haberdashery. Perspiring, clutching a 25-cent book, “Learn Spanish Pronto,” I escorte® the B. W. over on the international streetcar (10 cents a ride). At “the Avenue of the 16th of September” we got off. ? Off we went looking for somebody to try our Spanish on. Even the parrots at “El Mercado” (city market) shrugged helplessly when we addressed them. Of course, you don’t have to know Spanish here (if you don’t want to know what's going on). The housewives in El Paso take courses in “kitchen Spanish.” Finally, Manuel Rojo, a waiter, talked to us— as he’s becoming an American in December. “Mi esposa es nacio in El Paso,” he said. In only 10 minutes I'd figured out his wife's born in El Paso. “Brother me esposa in Korea,” he volunteered next, adding “Suegra triste.”
2 #, oe oe
<> I KNEW “TRISTE” was sad, but “suegra” sounded like sugar. Sad sugar? Flippety-flip through the book: “Suegra—mother-in-law.” The B. W. got a romantic thought.
Americana By Robert C. Ruark
NEW YORK, Aug. 29—I have read in its beautiful entirety the new Hemingway which cometh out in Life this week, and am proud of papa. Papa has written it again the way it is<and the way it should be and how it feels and with the full taste of it burning on the lips and the smell in the nose. And elsewhere. And all.
I would like to kid the old man of the Cuban retreat, Senor Papa Hemingway, but the inescapable fact is that you
can't kid him real hard on most of his stuff, not from any angle. Doughwise, you can’t kid him at all. From Life's publication of “The Old Man and the Sea” and from the book club business and the hard-cover sale and naturally, the movie purchase, you can’t kid papa. Papa laid a dreadful artistic egg with a kind of midway book called “Over the River and Into the Ditch,” or some such, but he is back again with all his faculties charging. Anybody who writes drops one, occasionally, and hates himself In the morning. I have no doubt that “Across the Canal and Into Senescence” will be regarded as literature later—if only for the duck-shooting part. But the new one is a beaut. It ain't a similar beaut to the two early gems, “A Farewell to Arms” and “The Sun Also Rises,” both of which taught a generation how to write if it could read. But the new one is a different kind of beaut. eb ’ THIS IS MERELY the story of an old Cuban who was going fishing possibly for the last time. He was a commercial fisherman. He was busted and old. He had had no luck recently. In him was the despair of old age and the insecurity of old age and the wish to quit big. He went out and hooked onto a marlin bigger than his boat. He fought it for days. He finally caught it and the sharks attacked it am it was lashed to his boat and he fought off the sharks, one by one, school by school, so long as he had a weapon. He arrived in port with only the head and the pride of his aging manhood intact, I am prejudiced, because I think that Ernest Hemingway is the best writer, over the course, who ever lived. I think he was a lousy writer in spots, that he formed late, and cheated some later, but mostly I think that nobody around can touch him for what we call in New York, class, for lack of a better. < Larry Hover on Life sent me the proofs early. I never dropped the elongated strips of paper until I found out how the 30,000-word epic struggle came out. When the. tautened line scut the old man’s hands~and the sun pounded on his skull, my hands hurt and my head ached. Hemingway
Make Tuesday A Lovely Day
principal factor. Only three of the 20 drivers ine volved in the 12 fatal accidents were not residents of Indiana. Brings it close to home. Three of the 15 dead were pedestrians. Two of the 15 dead had been drinking. Four of the fatal cars ran off the road; three cars hit fixed objects. Of the 12 fatal accidents, six happened In northern Indiana, two in the central part of the state and four down south. The National Safety Council estimates 40,000,000 vehicles carrying 80,000,000 passengers will travel more than four billion miles over the Labor Day holiday. If you're planning to take part in the four billion, make them smile-miles, won't you? Tuesday will be a lovely day. : oe @ FIFTY-YEAR LINK: Patrick Hanlon, 3332 W. Ninth 8t., completes 50° years of service at LinkBelt Co. The tool and die maker punched the clock for the first time Aug. 29, 1902. He was 14. The 50 years “don't seem half that long,” as Mr. Hanlon looks back. . Younger fellow workers wish they had his stamina and energy. At 64, Mr. Hanlon is looking forward to more years at’ Link-Belt and a lot more years of ice skating at the Coliseum. During the season he skates twice a week. One way of slipping through life happily.
Mr. Hanlon
® 4 &
STOP THE MUSIC: The Harold Taylors who were haunted by part of a gypsy song are crying "Unele” , ..s0oam'}Y... Stop . . . the mystery is cleared up . .. thank you, Carl G. Fackler, 39 E. Ninth St.; Jean Stoner, 2943 Brookside Ave.; Mrs. James Grayson, 1712 W. 58th St.; Mrs. Herbert L. Dwyer, 940 N. Kealing Ave., and Mrs.
C. G. Meggenhofen, 3602 Graceland Ave, ee
JOE REED, vice commander of American Veterans of World War II, is in Grand Rapids, Mich., with the express purpose of getting next next year's AMVETS convention for Indianapolis. What a reason to attend a convention, Joe.
Price of Mexican Divorce is $100
“When you American, brother-in-law?” she asked.
“Me no go,” grinned Manuel.
What a disappointment. Why he no go? “Me,"”, replied Manuel, holding up his leg, “me flatfoot.” Just shows how well you can be informed if you learn the language of other countries. Of course the divorce lawyer, Arturo Castillo Calero, a pleasant, tieless, coatless chap, who has two offices where he arranges mail order divorces in 3 days to 8 weeks, spoke English. When I asked, “How much are your best divorces today?” he said: “One hundred dawler. “I charge cheap to have more cases. Theese year I have to take extra office.” Ingrid Bergman, Ethel Merman, Shelly Winters’ husband Vittorio Gassman, and other glamorous folk got divorces here—but the B. W. figured “100 dawler” too much. So she didn’t buy a divorce—and I want to
say that’s the only thing she’s seen on this trip that she didn’t.
you go Korea help
»- bb
THE MIDNIGHT EARL IN N. Y. . . . Washington chatter has Col. McCormick wanting Robert Taft to head his American Party... One of the big spending Maharajahs will .be served soon in a suit brought by a N. Y. furrier whose bills remained unpaid . . . Jack Warner hought an apartment on Sutton Place . , . Josh Logan will complete his “Mr, Roberts” film script in September. A deal's cooking for Bill Miller to take over the site of Monte Proser’s late Cafe-Theater (also at one time the Zanzibar, Vanity Fair, Harem, Gilded Cage and Bop City) . .. The Legionnaires residing in the Gov. Clinton Hotel aren’t endearing themselves to the New Yorker's they hit with water bags . . . June Valli’s the new singing star of the NBC-TV’s “Your Hit Parade.” Cleveland's readying a, vice probe with N. Y. connections . . . The Rita Hayworth-Bob Savage romance is 99% press agent dreaming . . . Martin & Lewis dropped into the Copa to annoy Al Bernie on stage (and break up the house) . . . > > &
EARL’S PEARLS Taffy Tuttle is described by Al Fodor as a gal with a split personality—her shape makes men yearn, but her conversation makes them yawn, + « + That's Earl, brother.
¥
Hemingway’s New Book Is One of His Best
can still take you close to tears and I was of a sudden tearful over a lousy fish. You may say of the great man that he practices a cliche. Hemingway is the exponent of the epic struggle which must end in personal disaster while achieving slight spiritual triumph for the central personage. All right. He still does it better than anybody else, and there's no man alive who can put the taste and feel and smell and size and color into it like the grand maestro does it. The main reason I am an aficionado of Ernest Hemingway is that he has justified the business of writing for all the generations to see and profit by. All his life he has written what he wanted to write, the way he wanted to write it. He has lived the life he wanted to live, the way he wanted it. And he has profited thereby, in fame and money, when the busy ones were catering to what they thought was public opinion and knocking themselves out in an effort to head off the market. Or what they thought was the market. I have never met Papa Hemingway, although I once spent two weeks in the opposite end of a Cuban bar from him—me téo proud and too shy to say hello. But I have read him since I was a sprout and what he just wrote reads as good as @ man can write about what he loves. Ole Papa, and all success with “The Old Man.” You caught yourself a big fish the hard way.
Dishing the Dirt By Marguerite Smith
Q—I have a tropical hibiscus about five years old. It seems healthy but has never bloomed. Leaves are dark and shiny but occasionally some turn yellow and drop off. I give it blood meal, sometimes Hyponex. Is there any way to make it bloom? Mrs. Francis Estle, 1452 N. Alabama. A—Blood meal for fertilizer plus those dark green leaves and no bloom suggests an overbalance of nitrate fertilizer. Increase the high phosphate fertilizer to stimulate bud formation and Read Marguerite Smith's Garden Column in The Sunday Times
omit the blood meal for a time. Sharp pruning will stimulate new growth as well as the high nitrate fertilizer does. Try this yearly regimen for it. After summering the plant outdoors, rest it during winter &t a temperature around 50 degrees. Keep it rather dry during this period. In spring prune it back about one-half. Do this any time between March and May for sometimes they bloom in late spring. Give the plan* more water and spray the top daily as it begins to grow. An interesting bit of lore about the tender hibiscus says the blossoms can be rubbed on shoes to lacken them.
-
The Indianapolis Times
FRIDAY, AUGUST 29, 1952
PAGE 19
A Race Driver's Desire...By 35863
(Serving 10-20 Years for First Degree Burglary)
HE midget racer's careening “body glinted in the arc
stadium lights.
from the crash wall and struck another racer. figure was snapped ground in its cockpit like a rag doll.
The crowd held its breath, watched the car slow crazily to A stop. Mechanics poured from the auto pits. The driver, was he hurt? Could occasional victory compensate him for the agony of this crack-up? None of the crowd would ever really, know, but I knew. I was the driver. : I guess IT wanied to drive a midget racer from the first time I saw one. I'm not the daredevil type. Just an average guy, with a white collar job, a girl friend and hopes of long happy life. I didn’t belong in a racing car, and knew it. Nevertheless, the racing fever got me, worked at me, I made a resolve: I'd become the driver and drive 'til I won a race. Just once. Then I would quit, while I was still in
one piece. » » ®
EVERY NIGHT for a month I haunted Gilmore Stadium, in Los Angeles, with a shiny new crash helmet under my arm. No employment agency handles would-be drivers, and pros all knew each other. A stranger usually gets nowhere. Everyone said no, even before I hinted I'd like to race one of their beautiful $100,000 midgets, One night I spotted an unfamiliar car, when I reached the pits. It was an old fashioned job, evidently much repaired. On its grey-blue body was someone’s artistically painted “88” in cutsized numbers. A kid about 20, with wild ‘yellow hair, was changing the sparkplugs. When 1 sauntered over, he looked up and grunted. This was best reception yet,
It spun vertically, then caromed
A white
This is the fifth of a series of short stories written by convicts in the Indiana Reformatory in Pendleton. The stories have
been named winners in a contest held by The Reflector,
newspaper at the prison, Names of thg authors have rot been used. They will be identified only by number.
so I got down and helped him. Norm gGordan, was his name, it turned out and the “88,” which he had rebuilt from salvaged parts, was his first racer. I soon saw that my track lingo impressed him. By this time we'd installed the new plugs I had a job. My legs trembled as I walked to the pits on Thursday, my first racing night. The whitefaced crowd in the grandstands looked different and thirst for blood was in their faces. When the race started I was con: scious only of the car's powerful thrust as it jammed me against the seat, and the deafening roar of the tiny engine. When it was over, Norm didn't complain, though the “88” had the slowest qualifying time that night. For several Thursdays my speed improved steadily. Then beginner's luck deserted me. Engine trouble or a flat tire or plain bad driving, kept me from even winning one race. It looked like I'd never win one. When my luck turned, it nearly killed me. » ” ” FOUR OF us in that Thursday's ‘special event had taken
ort ul
the green flag !lke one car. We tore down the straightaway, slid broadside into the turn, When we got around, the lead car shot clouds of dust which jarred my teeth. I turned to squeeze between him and the fence. I didn’t get far, He swayed toward me, out of control. To lessen the impact I tried bumping the fence. Instead I slammed it. Grinding metal screamed in my ears.
UNCLE SAM: SUPERMAN ABROAD . .. NO. 5—
Europe Has Qualms About Our Alms
By GEORGE W. HERALD PARIS, Aug. 29—“We are sick and tired of taking
”
money from you,
the Dutch industrialist exclaimed angrily during our interviews.
“You have given Europe
$30 billion since 1945, including $14 billion under the
Marshall Plan. you got for it? got for it?” “Why” I replied, “it looks as if you were better off than be-
And what have What have we
fore. Western Europe looks fairly prosperous.” “On the surface,” the man
answered. “In reality, most of the dollars you sent over here wandered back to you. We had to use them to buy your raw materials—coal, oil products, nonferrous metals, cotton, fats and machines we could find only in the United States.” “Well, didn't you sell the goods you made with the help of these materials?” “Not enough. You didn't let us.” “We didn’t let you? I thought America was encouraging maximum production in Western Europe?” “Yes, but she didn’t encourage maximum sales. On the
Anyway, Pigs At Fair Have It Better Than
.
contrary, she raised new tariff barriers against our product, At the same time, the Iron Curtain hampered our trading with the East. Where, then, are we supposed to sell our goods?” s » 8 THAT is the main question European business leaders are
asking us today. Our loans and gifts are futile, they feel, as long as America holds on to her protectionist policies. “If we could earn enough dol-
lars, we wouldn't need your money,” the Dutchman explained. ‘Take cheese, for instance. It's one: of our main
national products, and we export it in great quantities. But not. to the U. S. Your cow breeders have clamped a 19 per cent import tax on European cheese and Congress just put a quota on them.” Wherever I went on the con-
TWO CHAMPS—Phil Arehart, Churubusco, shows Hereford that won 4-H championship in all 4-H steer classes at State Fair.
It may be true pigs is pigs, but at a fair they have it better than people. Pigs eat regular, sleep leng and are treated like movie stars, And
| Secret Files Of the FBI
From the secret files of J. Edgar Hoover's agents these thrilling stories . . .
How .a bank robber. and his girl friend were nabbed on Indianapolis’ Monument Circle, because he couldn't break a lifetime hahit. . . . How the FBI unmasked a “pillar of his community” as the brains.of a car theft ring . . . How a lovesick youth set the stage for a $221,955 jewel robbery.
PLUS . . . the story of the “Luckiest - Murderer in the | World,” other exciting cases
solved by the FBI. “COPS AND ROBBERS” Facts Direct From the FBI Files Starts Monday THE TIMES
come |
-
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{they're kept cleaner than girls going to Sunday school.
At the State Fair Grounds this week, you can watch young 4-H farmers giving swine the Saturday night treatment at all hours of the day. They bathe 'em, brush ‘em, slick with oil, give pedicures and snip the stray hairs off that corkscrew tail. The pigs, which are supposed to like wallowing in mud, seem pleased with the grooming.
| And pigs are smart, too. They
sleep through the mid-day heat.
{ y 2 on n | In Radio Building, TV gets by
far the most attention. Except when Hollywood Actress Arlene {Dahl was there yesterday after(noon.
always manage to: | ONE — Ask 'tions. TWO-—Eat too much. THREE Get lost.
their hair
heen reported lost lered. . Youngest was a.3-year-old hoy With: Barbecue sauce, catsup, tonamed Mike. He really howled. Pasco sauce, worchestershire| Lost longest was a 4-year-old boy Sauce, hot sauce, galt, pepper, vin-|
n ” » Lhildren at the Fair nearly
impossible ques-
tinent, I heard the same complaint. If it wasn't cheese, it was wool yarn on which we put an import duty of 40 per cent, or wool fabrics (35 per cent) or silk (45 per cent) or lace (90 per cent) or watches (51 per cent). Moreover, European merchants resent the endless formalities required for the entry of their goods into the United States. And they are further discouraged by the ‘escape clause” permitting U. 8. firms to cancel any order if its execution proves to hurt the national economy. ” n »
AS A RESULT, Europe suffers today from the same dollar shortage as five years ago. France had a one billion dollar trade deficit in 1951. She is living on her capital, losing between two and three hundred million dollars a year out of her very limited reserves. England is almost as badly off. Her dollar holdings are now down to 1500 millions---the same low figure that prompted the devaluation of the pound in September, 1949.
Something big punched me in my guts and I saw blackness, You know the rest, In my one serious crack-up I had climbed the wall, a wheel was lost, and helped wreck the other cars. But when my head cleared I was miraculously O. K.—only badly burned, bruised, mid-riff, where the safety belt had held me.
The “88” however, was badly bent up. Several weeks needed for outside body repairs. Norm
Under these circumstances, the experts consider another devaluation of 10 to 15 per cent inevitable, But they warn that such a measure will bring only temporary relief unless acompanied by a cut of U, 8, customs duties. At the same time, they want us to redistribute some of the 23 billion dollars worth of gold hoarded in Ft. Knox. “This gold now lies around without purpose,” French economist Jacques Gascuel argued. “What's the point? No one could ever play a game if he had all the chips and the other players none. Where would be the fun and what could he win?” ” » ” HOWEVER, Allied tradesmen are looking farther ahead. They realize that, even in the best of
cases, Europeans will never be’
able to sell as much to America as they must buy from her. The difference “¢an only be plugged by opening up new markets. The one big and still undeveloped market in the world that remains firmly in Western hands is Africa. If living standards of the Africans could be
and I used the time to get her engine into top shape. We decided to move to Carpenteria, where
competition was not quite so stiff, and maybe we
would win a race.
With her new parts the “88” ran like a frightened greyhound. My very first race I came in third . . . next race it was second, and I knew then that luck was with us. Shortly after. that my midget racing career came to a sudden, glorious end... _ That night I poured on the speed. Unable to grab the lead in the first lap, I closed up 5til the nose of my car touched the one ahead. When one of the four leaders lost traction for Just a second I slipped past him. » » = A YARD ahead the other three were throwing dirt that stung like buckshot. Seven laps melted away, and I still couldn't gain, so I swung higher on the track and felt my tires take a stronger bite, Old “88” really set sail. In one swift move she passed all
three on the outside, where there seemed absolutely no room. Fierce exaltation swept
through me as I saw a clear track ahead. So this was the thrill that made men racing drivers, that drew them back after each trip to the hospital. 1 realized, of course, I was still pushing throttle like a madman as I roared, wide open, past the checkered flag. : I knew it was all over for me when I pulled into the pits and killed the switch. I had my wish in full measure. But, I hung around the track that night and fought a battle of will-power. That I won proves I was never a real race driver. He's the kind of guy who doesn’t quit until he leaves feet first.
raised to such a level that they could buy European products in large quantities, the Old World's problem would be solved. At the same time, development of Africa’s natural resources would enable Europe to obtain there many raw materials she now has to buy from us for precious dollars.
But to develop Africa in this manner will require enormous new capital, and this capital
can come only from tHe United States. That's why many Europeans suggest that we gradually switch our dollar subsidies to Africa and help them exploit their territories there by modern methods.
What these pioneers want are no “generous” gifts for which they would show “gratitude,” but sound investments in ventures likely to yield huge profits and, at the same time, to get Europe off our back.
In the long run, they say, this will be the best way for us to keep their friendship and for them to keep ours.
NEXT: The Road to Perfection.
People
A
LOADING—An A.3 lifeboat is locked in place on a B-29. This boat, used to rescue Air Force personnel downed at sea, is on display at the Indiana State Fair by the 2d Air Reserve District and 87th Troop Carrier Reserve Wing at Camp Atterbury Air Force Base.
Then at noon they began
to “lonburger”
pop up everywhere, nearly always concession stand.
crying. By evening, 21
tots had) and all recov- it'll make you roar anyway.
It's not really jungle cat,
advertised at one!
t Cribbing Story
bu It’
a sandwich of ground beef spiced At West Point
whose parents didn't get the pub- €Bar and sugar.
lic address an hour,
and girls.
Straw is banned from Fair live-
stock stalls this
two years. Animals
Yesterday morning the lost ings, Crunchy but children's stations were so quiet enough. police began’ to “wonder. Not one 0.»
Ichild lost.
system message for
The lion tag comes from the Jamestown Lions Club, which op-| So far, the logt department has erates the food stand. They sell|
been running 50-50 between boys 400 Lionburgers a day. |
uo un a
State veterinarians reported] year because they -haven't found any hogs| straw ticks infected people last brought to the Fair with that new are bedded disease. But about 25 were turned down in hay or chopped up mix- back because exhibitors failed to ture of corn cob and wood shav- have a no-disease certificate from comfortable veterinarian before shipping. Li the! swine inspected and rushed pach)
of them drove back, had
| You might wonder about the to the Fair,
&
| |
WHAT HAS happened to the West Point football players involved in last year's cribbing scandal?
|
Will they play this year?
You'll find the answer in their stories by Murray Olderman, noted sports writer-artist, starting Tuesday in The Times.
“WHERE ARE THE WEST POINT CRIBBERS?" Times Sports Pages
_ NEXT TUESDAY