Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 30 August 1952 — Page 27

31, 1952

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Our Specialty

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Inside Indianapolis By Ed Sovola

CHILDREN are such unbelievable creatures. And in the same breath, so was a watermelon eight little guys and gals tied into.

To bring you up to date quickly, the other day a call was made for grade school watermelon eaters to help a so-so lover of the fruit to count the seeds.

From time to time, you know, pertinent questions such as “How many seeds are in a ripe watermelon” light up my dome. To extinguish the light, which buzzes in the poor connection, You have to find out.

Five boys and three girls reported for watermelon. Counting seeds was secondary to them. School 22 was represented by Evelyn Young, 10; Renee Vutchko, 9, and Marilyn Goldman, 11. School 41 was represented by Charles Richwine, 10; and Russell Phillips, 9. John Volz, 13, and Mike Tames, 11, go back to Holy Angels next week. Jerry Terry, 11, carried the Castleton School banner. At their disposal and pleasure was a 37%3pound watermelon, They were instructed to count the seeds from the slices each ate. The total would' be taken when the watermelon was gone. Evelyn Young was given the first thick slice. From then on, even though it wasn't a contest to see who could eat the mostest fastest, it was a race. As the seeds fell they were counted. Shortly a couple of the children were mixed up. They also mixed up their nighbors by asking questions. “I'm ready for more,” added to the confusion. I was sicing and passing out watermelon at a fast clip. And through it all I was thinking and wondering how parents of five and six youngsters don’t get eaten out of house and home. ~ The girls were the first to push their chairs from the table. John Volz was the last. While a recount was taken I ate one slice of watermelon. The kids reported their totals as follows: John Volz, 121; Jerry Terry, 120; Mike Tames, 117; Evelyn Young, 111; Charles Richwine, 70; Marilyn Goldman, 67; Russell Phillips, 66; Renee Vutchko, 63 and this kid had 65 seeds in his pile. Total number of seeds—800. On the nose, 800.

It Happened Last Night

By Earl Wilson

SAN ANTONIO, Aug. 30—Things come big in Texas—and we've just clambered through “Old Fatso.”

“Sometimes she wakes us up when she goes pver in the morning . . . she shakes us but she’s thrilling and she’s beautiful,” a woman was saying. The woman was pretty Mrs. Frank L. SwadAty. Her husband's general manager of the Saint ‘Anthony Hotel. He nodded agreement (as what husband doesn’t?). The next day, Kelly Air Force Base took us out to see “Old Fatso,” alias “The Flying Elephant,” meaning the XC-99, biggest land-based plane in the world. Big? Three bowling alleys wide, five stories high at one point—so mammoth the pilot can’t see the six pusher motors but requires two “scanners” to watch them for him,

The Jane Russell of airplanes.

“Yet,” said the pilot, Capt. James Pittard of Monticello, Ga., “she’s the quietest plane I know. “Because the motors are so far away I can hardly hear them.” People said you can hardly sleep when she’s overhead. She’s about $10 million worth of Convair, big enough to carry 400 men. I saw everything in it but a drugstore and barbershop. For example, it's got electric hoists that lift cargo, like elevators. One of the big plane’s mechanics is S-Sgt. Douglas Myles, of Indianapolis. I sat in the pilot's seat and felt like I'd already taken off —I was 25 feet up in the air. Twice a week “Old Fatso” flies a cargo to McClellan Air Force Base at Sacramento. One day she’ll probably carry almost a maximum load of men, and break the Navy’s record for carrying the most passengers ... somewhere beyond 200. ” “Will America - build any more of these? [ inquired. Replied Col. James L. Jackson, second in command at the base, “We just know she’s practical. “This would be the way to transport men. You'd have to have planes to protect it. Just as you do boats. . “Well, the Russians have submarines that could interfere with boats,” he added signiffcantly. I sat in one of the ‘“scanner’s seats” before erawling out of the 182-foot-long job with the 230-foot wing span which weighs 200,000 pounds when loaded. I felt like a window worker sitting outside a window of the Empire State Building.

Americana By Robert C. Ruark

NEW YORK, Aug. 30—I don’t know what the poor folks were doing the other day, but I was having a cocktail with Marilyn Monroe. She drank a dubonnet. During this time she was not asked whether she wore pants, which has been asked her. She was not asked about the status of her romance with Joe DiMaggio, or whether she once posed nude for a calendar, or what she slept in. The answer to that is Chanel. Number, I believe, five. Miss Monroe is quite a lass to look at. She is equipped with more than the average .appurtenances, and she peers at you deceptively with a large set of eyes. She listens well. She has a name for being an enfant terrible, which has made undeserved reputations for quite a few press agents. She stutters, too—you know—a tiny little stammer that comes up mostly when she is really startled and hasn't prepared her script to cope with the surprise. I know a lot about Monroe, and truly she stutter,

* ¢

I WILL tell you about a lady who spent a lot of time being handed around from this asylum to that when she was a kid, with a hard parental problem and the wonderful kinds of uniforms they give little girls to wear in places where the taxpayers pick up the tab. They say you stammer from insecurity and this girl has had enough Insecurity to put Joe F-F-Frisco out of b-business. She is a hot girl in the movies today, and I think that her next one is called “Monkey Business,” which gets that out of the way. She is also in love with a nice gentleman, name of Giuseppe DiMaggio. Somebody on a news servjce asked her about Joe once and she answered simply: “We haven't talked about baseball yet.” It came out all garbled and this is a girl who doesn’t garble easy. A much better writer than most people you meet these days, Somerset Maugham, once wrote a plece about a dame named Jane. This one, while not overendowed with anything, made a great reputation in the more sophisticated circles of London by an odd device. She just spoke the truth, with a straight face. >. 4%

MARILYN MONROE, who has béen billed for the shape of her body and the shape of her wisecracks, is much like this Jane of Mister Maugham’s. She looks you smack in the eye and she gives you the honest answer, and it sounds so funny coming out of a Hollywood operation that she makes a great name as a wit. And she’s not the smartest. She is just the honestest. Like the question they, not I, asked her about the big nude calendar pose. A

4

. season’s flower is gone. 1

Child Labor Helps Solve a Problem

Wn

All of the boys could" have eaten more watermelon, At least they asked for more, The girls were satisfied. On the way out, one by one, the boys stopped at a water fountain to take a drink. So help me, they did. Just what are little boys and girls made of? “OS b PLEASE, MADAM: Tom Hull, technical department of Central Library, had a female caller inquire about the correct address of Bing Crosby Enterprises. Tom had to look it up. A minute later he Jad the information. The lady was pleased. “Thank you,” she said, “I knew it all the time but I wanted to see if the library was on its toes.” Calls like that will flip the library on its roof. ih < “> & LOU THATCHER, 39 N. Keystone Ave. is flashing two tickets to the Columbian Exposition (Chicago World’s Fair of 1893) and scoffing at the poor workmanship and art of Indiana State Fair ducats. They're ‘pretty . . . look like halfsize dollar bills. Probably worth as much, too. “SS BARGAIN HUNTERS: Only one left . . . originally sold for $36,000—now only $100. It's a Sperry bombsight. Don’t rush, Harry Marcus, Hoosier Army Store. 20 8. Illinois St., says he sold four in the past five years. oo oo oe RECORD BREAKERS: Ingates of Indiana Reformatory in Pendleton are proud that their institution holds the record for blood donations in the state—322 pints in one day. The Red Cross Bloodmobile returns there Sept. 8. ‘“Let’s make our greatest effort this time,” pleads The Reflector, prison publication. Makes the ticker skip a beat. > fo i ie ROUGH ON ROOF: Hoosier-born Hollywood ‘badman” for Republic Pictures, Forest Tucker, s in town today to attend the State Fair. With 1im is Tony Romano who is good enough with 1 guitar to travel with Bob Hope shows. For pin noney (mostly to build up Tony), Forest and pal Tony will sing and dance on the roofs of the twin projection booths at drive-in Twin-Theatair Tuesday night.

That’s Right—=Texas Has Biggest Plane

Leaving it, we went to see the Alamo. That fine old church and fort stirred us, too. But “Old Fatso” is possibly the answer to our future, as the Alamo is a relic of our past. Se» be sure to see “Old Fatso” when you visit San Antonio, ‘““where the sunshine goes for the winter.” > OS b

MIDNIGHT EARL IN N. Y.... Part of Erica Steel's defense in the vice case will be that her phone number's listed in the directory, a practice not commonly credited to “madames.” . « « A famous B'way restaurant closes Oct. 1 because of bad business. . . . Mrs. Roosevelt, David Niles, Bob Sherwood and Samuel Rosenman lunched at the Waldorf to work out a hustle for Stevenson group in this area (Mrs. Roosevelt's idea). The talk “downtown” is

that DA Hogan may get the

“ inations for mayor. . . . The ¢ FBI assigned two agents to

Ike's Morningside Drive residence. . . . Marilyn Monroe's date at the Embers was Jack Nichols. . . . Ethel Thorsen i starts her new Dumont-TV ¢ fashion show Sept. 3.

EARL'’S PEARLS . .. Sheila Bond claims she never has to go on a diet. Just thinking about one worries her so much she loses weight.

<Q < oo

WISH I'D SAID THAT: “This is the week,” says Robert Q. Lewis, “when the kids finish breaking up camp and start breaking up the house.”

Miss Thorsen

TODAY'S BEST LAUGH: “The girl who stole my boy friend,” says Taff Tuttle, “will regret it to her dying day—if she lives that long.” Merle Oberon brightened El Morocco with Mrs. Gary Cooper and Fulton Cutting. . .. Bill Jordan, of Miami's Bar of Music is looking for a N. Y. summer site for the spot. “These days,” explains Sonny Howard, “a well known society figure is about $300.” . . . That's Earl, brother.

Marilyn’s Honest Despite Hollywood

“Did you really have anything on while you were posing?” they asked. “Sure,” Marilyn said cheerfully. radio on.” Somebody asked her one time why she didn’t sun-bathe. “I want to be a blonde all over,” she said. oe EE REMEMBERING the ancient days of the lamented Jean Harlow, I asked her if she weren't real weary of being on the opposite end of a wolf whistle. Monroe is the nearest thing to Harlow we've seen in 20 years. ; “Any woman says she's bored with being grabbed at is a liar,” says Miss Monroe, cheerfully. Here is a woman is being featured by the movies and exploited by the press agents and being shoved around in the personal appearances. Here is one that had it tough all the way up and now she ‘has it good and is grateful for having it that way and is willing to play it straight and not go grande dame. Here is one of the few honest ones I ever met in the movie business, outside of Annie Sheridan, who had a lot more, advantages to start with, Here, despite her build-up, is a real nice woman named Monroe, in a racket that easily ruins nice honest people. If they louse this one up they got trouble out of buster, here. And in my time I have made some. Trouble, I mean.

Dishing the Dirt By Marquerite Smith

Q—-I have two gloxinia plants which have bloomed. Would you please tell me what I should do with them from this time on. The leaves are green yet and they have quite a few new leaves. Should I take the dirt away for a rest period? Or leave them in the pot? Mrs. C. T. Smith, 601 N. LaSalle, ‘' A—Let gloxinias grow as long as they want to. Most of them indicate by yellowing leaves when they want rest. Watch individual plants. Then give less and less water until completely dormant. Store tubers either in pots or remove dirt and store in peat moss.

“I had the

Q—When should gladiolus be dug to put away for winter? : A—Let plants grow so long as leaves are green. Specialists usually dig theirs before foliage ‘s entirely brown. Theory is that insects and iisease move in too readily on this mature follage. Exact time of digging therefore depends on planting time of corms, and time it takes foliage to mature after blossom is gone. As with spring ‘bulbs, glad leaves mature (feed) root and so influence next year’s bloom, in the period after this

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£ 1

Democrat and Republican nom- .

The Indianapolis

imes

SUNDAY, AUGUST 31, 1952

A ROLLING GALLERY

Former Hobo

By LLOYD WALTON JOE WISEMAN gave up being a “hobo” more than 40

years ago—married and for the past 30 years has been a friend and critic of many of the country’s lesser known

artists. . “I've always liked art,” the spry old-timer drawled. “I was sorta gifted as an artist when I went to school.-In fact that was about the only thing I did any good at there.”

Most of Joe's understanding of art resulted from his many years of hoboing through western states.

“I was born nearly 73 years ago at White Cloud, Ind. (nine miles west or Corydon),” he said. “And in 1898 I took a notion to go out and see the world. “My sweet old dad was a Civil War soldier, and he was tickled to pieces when I told him I wanted to leave the farm and strike out for myself. “Ollie,” he said to me—Oliver's my middle name, and Dad always called me Ollie—let me give you some advice. It won't cost you a thing.

“ALWAYS associate with people bigger than yourself then when you need help they can help you out. “I've practiced that all my life,” he added. “And it's paid off.” Joe didn't do much with his art work the next few years as he traveled through the west, working at farms along the

way and riding in empty box cars. “I'd just get in some freight car and hide myself,” he laughed. “And whenever I was caught I cried tears as big as my fist and they let me go.”

The main thing Joe didn't like was monotony. When he started getting bored after a few months working in one place he caught the next train out of town. “I even tried being a lumberjack in Minnesota,” he said. “We were 20.miles from the nearest town and would be in there working six months at a time. Didn't see a woman for the whole six months, either.” ~ » n THEN JOE decided to try the manufacturing business, He mixed up a concoction to take dirt and grease spots out of clothes and stiff collars and sold it from door to door. “I named it Wiseman's Grease Eradicator,” he chuckled. “It was made out of Ivory Soap and ammonia with a little perfume put in to make fit smell good.” From 1906-11 Joe worked as "a laborer helping build Ft. Harrison. In his spare time he operated an ice cream stand near the fort.

Lives

For

PAGE 13

OLD TIMER—Joe Wiseman

head for town,

“That's where I met Eva Herrin who I finally married,” Joe said. “She was crazy about

ART CRITIC—Joe and Teddy admire one of the many pieces of art adorning the walls of Joe's

three-room home,

examines one of his paintings before getting in his '26 Model T to

ice cream and came down to the stand nearly every day. “I fell like a ton of brick for her,” he sald with glowing eyes. “And every time she came down to buy ice cream I really loaded her up on ft. “I finally got her, too,” he added proudly. ” ” » 3 DURING the next several years Joe was an auxiliary policeman, U. 8. deputy marshal, mall carrier and county jail cell-house boss. Meantime Joe and Mrs. Wiseman raised a family of three boys and one girl All this time he continued dabbling with his art and managed to sell and trade a few paintings for other artists. “I traded two paintings for a little two-room house down on the river,” Jos said. “I used part of the lumber from it to build this three-room place.” The Wisemans live at 5155 Clarendon Rd.

And now Joe spends most of his time dealing in antiques and art work. His 1926 Model T Ford is a familiar sight along Massachusetts Ave. where he leaves it parked every day as he makes the rounds of art stores and antique shops. Everyone in the neighborhood recognizes Joe as he walks along the street accompanied by

his two tiny, golden brown dogs. “Honey and Teddy (the dog’s names) go. with me every-

. where,” he said. “I never have

to put a leash on them. When, we reach a curb, they stop and wait until I pick them up and carry them across.”

. s » “EVERYONE asks what breed dog they are,” he laughed. “Actually it's my own get-up. They're a cross between a fox terrier mother and a Pomeranfan father. “I used to have a fox terrier, but she was too big for the little house I live in. So I decided to cross her with a Pome eranian and see what I'd get. Whatever it was I knew fit

would be different.” ; Many of the paintings Joe buys he has to recondition be fore they can be sold. . “I buy a lot of them from old art stores and they look like about 15 cents,” he said, “But I'm pretty much of an art critic and can see a good painting under the dust and dirt. Some day Joe will make a “strike” and sell a picture for a good price. But then he might go for weeks without selling a thing. “I'm not trying to get rich,” he said. “I just live from One day to the next—I'm happy whether I have a dime in my pocket or not.”

Reunion Of Sacred Heart Class Of '96

THEN—The class of 1896 happily posed for this shot 57 years ago.

"With rue my heart is laden, For golden friends | had; For many a rose-lipped maiden, And many a light-foot lad."

By GEORGE McEVOY WHEN A. E. Housman wrote those lines of his beloved Shropshire boyhood,

he could well have intended

them to serve as theme for the recent reunion of Sacred Heart School, Class of 1896.

The little girls who sat and listened to the wisdom of the Franciscan Fathers back in the golden age are grandmothers now. Their curls are long since “put up.” Some of them sent their children and, in 8ome cases, their grandchildren, to Sacred Heart. School. But at their reunion here the talk was of yesterday. Of the little girl who grew up to be Mrs. Roscoe McKinney, the late mother of Frank McKinney. Of Mary Stoltz who sat in

‘WILD PET—A sparrow hawk ordinarily is one of most unruly birds. But Mrs. Charles Dair, supervisor of cottage 13 at the Plainfield Boys School, has made a friend of one of the birds. The

hawk makes regular visits to Mrs. Dair's cottage, lands on her hand -

and accepts gluttonous handouts of hamburger,

4

the third row. Bhe became a nun, and has traveled the world doing missionary work. And of the others who didn’t travel, didn’t become famous, but raised good families and earned the love of their own.

8 8 w . IT HAS BEEN 56 years now since the women were in the graduating class at Sacred Heart. Twenty-one of them frhowed at last week's reunion. Sixteen dead. Eleven couldn't come because of health or distance. The others have heen having the annual reunion for several years, And what do they do when they all get together? ! Mrs. Anna Armstrong, 730 W. 54th St., president of the group for eight years, supplied the answer. “Oh, we just talk,” she said. “Iike any group of women friends, we just talk.” At the meeting In Mrs. Armstrong's home were Anna Peele, Ernestine Lauth, Bertha Lauck, Rose Lauck, Anna Ren-

are

ner, Gertie Anderson, Mary Story, . Lizzie Staab, Josie Fries, Katie Schmatz, Mary Gantner, Carrie Aberding, Mary Shipp, : Lena Gleinschmidt, Clara Coony, Lula

Schnider, Nora Lyons, Maggie Bahr, Anna Morrison and Lulu

--Busald Armstrong.

5

>

NOW-—The little girls are grandmothers now as they meet at class reunion.

LOOKING BACK—Mrs, Anna Morrison of Syracuse; Ind, and Mrs. Carolyn Schneider, 4143 Carrollton Ave, relive the yearsy 5 i . :

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