Category Archives: Review

Book Review
Vintage Signs of America
Debra Jane Seltzer

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I photograph a fair number of signs as I travel, and I know quite a few people who photograph many more than I. Not one, however, is in the same league as Debra Jane Seltzer. If sign hunting was an Olympic sport, the petite Seltzer would be buried under gold medals. Her photo expeditions are legendary. Until recently, when she and her dogs (currently four) headed out in the white Chevy van named Sparkle, they would take along a big stack of notes and marked up map printouts. Today there might still be a printed list of targets but Google maps and a smartphone have reduced the need for paper considerably. The target list is never limited to signs. It’s almost certain to include interesting buildings and other roadside attractions of all sorts.

Seltzer’s website, Roadside Architecture, is the primary beneficiary of these expeditions. It currently contains more than 60,000 searchable photos organized by subject and location. It’s described as “Buildings, signs, statues, and more”. Photos are added and other maintenance is performed between trips. While traveling, Seltzer maintains a blog with stories and pictures from the road and a Flickr account with pictures that didn’t appear in the blog and probably won’t make it to the website. Links to these and more can be found at the Roadside Architecture website.

So why a book? Even though the subject matter of the structured website, the blog, and the Flickr account is essentially the same, they have different uses and different audiences. A book’s audience is different yet. In reading the book, I spotted a couple of signs that could be within range of upcoming travels. As I put them on my own list, I realized that the book could be used as a “shopping list” for travelers. The website, of course, is a super shopping list and both the blog and Flickr can can be sources of things to see, but the printed page is consumed differently and if the book gave me some ideas I’m sure it can do that for others.

However, before I thought of Vintage Signs of America as a shopping list, I thought of it as a primer. There is a one page introduction which, in addition to providing an overview of the rest of the book, offers a little insight into why Seltzer likes signs and why you might, too. This introduction page and a few near the book’s end where the subject is preservation are the only pictureless pages in the book. The other pages are filled with roughly 175 color photographs divided into five chapters. The first of these, “Types of Signs”, is where I got the idea of the book as a primer. Examples of bulb, opal letter, mechanical, and other types of signs appear with descriptive text. It prepares the reader for recognizing the various types in the wild and also provides a little history of advertising and the sign industry.

The next three chapters form what Selzer refers to as the “theme” section of the book. One chapter focuses on “People” with sub-themes like chefs, women, cowboys, and Indians. I was a little surprised with the statement that “There are far fewer representations of women than men on surviving vintage signs”, and considered why that was so. For starters, most of those chefs, cowboys, and Indians are male. The neon women my male mind first thought of were bathing beauties diving into motel swimming pools. Women are portrayed in other roles but not often. Evidence, I suppose, of women being even more underrepresented in the ’40s , ’50s, and ’60s, when most of these signs were made, than today.

The “Animals” chapter is probably my favorite. Colorful birds, fish, and dogs draw customers to businesses of all sorts. Sequenced neon segments can make birds appear to fly and dogs and horses appear to run. A pig almost always indicates a BBQ restaurant although one sign shows a line of pigs merrily leaping in to a grinder to be made into sausage.

“Things” is as varied as you might imagine. Bowling balls and pins are popular as are skates, cars, and assorted food items. Donuts and ice cream cones seem to be the most common edibles used to attract customers. Bowling balls lend themselves to animation and when a neon bowling ball rolls, a strike is virtually guaranteed. Together, “Types of Signs” and the three chapters of the “theme” section make up a sort of sampler of the massive Roadside Architecture site. Picking less than 200 images to populate this sampler had to be tough but the choices made were excellent.

Like the signs themselves, the color photographs snag a reader’s attention. They’re all good eye-candy and some, like those with running animals, flying footballs, or operating machinery, require some amount of study. The pictures are far from alone, however. Every picture has an extended caption that describes the sign, often tells its history, and sometimes includes more general information. As Seltzer tells it, “I snuck facts and history into captions which makes it easier to swallow.” Easy to swallow describes the whole book. Even though it may look like a picture book, it seems quite natural to read it front to back and absorb those “facts and history” along with the images.

The last chapter, “Preserving Vintage Signs”, has those pictureless pages I mentioned earlier. It begins with a couple of pages of text that is sort of a “state of the signs” message. Here Seltzer tells of what has been happening to signs and why. The last page is also all text with some answers to the question “What can I do?” In between are descriptions, with pictures, of the big three sign museums in the country: The American Sign Museum (where I bought my copy of the book) in Cincinnati, OH, the Museum of Neon Art in Glendale, CA, and the Neon Museum in Las Vegas, NV. The whole chapter, and the final page in particular, might just be the inspiration someone needs to get involved is saving or documenting vintage signs.

So I’m thinking that some folks will get inspiration from this book, some will use it as a shopping list for their own sign hunting, for some it will be an introductory primer into the world of signs, and others might see it as a sampler of the full Roadside Architecture web presence. Those are all valid uses for the book and it will satisfy all of them quite nicely. Of course, some might see the book purely as a nice presentation of some very pretty pictures. There’s certainly nothing wrong with that. With the few exceptions noted, there are pretty pictures on every page.

Vintage Signs of America, Debra Jane Seltzer, Amberley Publishing, April 1, 2018, 9.2 x 6.5 inches, 96 pages, ISBN 978-1445669489
Available through Amazon.

Book Review
Ford Model T Coast to Coast
Tom Cotter

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Old-car guys and old-road guys are hardly one and the same although there is definitely a whole bunch of overlap. With this book, Tom Cotter stakes out a position deep in that overlap. Tom is, however, much more of an old-car guy than an old-road guy so it’s not surprising that his position is closer to the car side than the road side. The story of how plans for the trip came together is telling. The idea that Tom started with was driving an old car across the United States. Over the years, the idea had been refined to involve a particular old car. He called it a dream and admitted that it was unlikely to be realized but the car he really wanted to drive across the country country was a Ford Model T. In his dream the road was secondary.

Before getting too deep, let me point out that this is not my great grandfather’s T. My great grandfather once drove a stock Model T to Florida and back. Granddad’s car might have had a theoretical top speed around 40 MPH but the rugged roads of 1920 kept him running in the 20s when he wasn’t stopped fixing a flat tire, worn out brakes, or something else. The car that took Cotter and company to California had a heavily modified engine, lowered suspension, hydraulic brakes, and other improvements that allowed it to cruise at 50+ — safely.

Most of those improvements had been made by Cotter’s traveling companion who was also the car’s former owner. That was Dave Coleman who had sold the car to Nathan Edwards a few years back. Unable to make the trip himself, Edwards loaned the car to Cotter and Coleman. Photographer Michael Alan Ross, following the T in a modern Ford SUV, completed the team.

Only after an authentic but remarkably capable Model T has been lined up for the trip does Cotter look to the route. Calling it a confession, he notes that “I had not heard of the Lincoln Highway until I began planning for this trip.” The trip starts at the Lincoln Highway eastern terminus in New York City, ends at the western terminus in San Francisco, and most of the miles in between were on or near what was once the Lincoln Highway. It was not, however, a particularly strict following of the old highway. There  was occasional streamlining of the route and a few side trips to visit interesting people and places.

So those are the “disclaimers”. The car was not a high-clearance, 20 HP, nearly brakeless, stock Model T. The route did not follow every bend of the Lincoln Highway or even pass by every attraction associated with the historic road. But the car was a very old, extremely basic, and wonderfully historic vehicle, and the route was close enough to the Lincoln Highway to sometimes serve up glimpses of the legendary road and constantly serve up a true view of coast to coast travel. Together they form the foundation for a really cool and extraordinary adventure.

As noted, not every Lincoln Highway icon appears in the book but many do. There’s Dunkle’s Gulf in Bedford, PA, and Lincoln Motor Court in nearby Mann’s Choice. In the midwest, the travelers stopped at the Lincoln Highway Association Headquarters in Illinois and the famous Reed-Niland Corner in Iowa. Farther west they drove through some great scenery and made stops at the Utah’s Bonneville Salt Flats and the historic Hotel Nevada in Ely. Michael Ross snapped great pictures of all these scenes and more.

The Model T that Nathan Edwards generously loaned out for this adventure could be considered a “late model”. It was manufactured in 1926 during the next to last year of T production. It performed flawlessly for the entire 3,707 mile journey. They even had to fake a flat tire to get a “break down” photo. Cotter acknowledges that they were certainly not the first people to cross the United States in a Model T but it seems at least possible that they were the first to do it without something breaking. That’s partly due to the in depth preparation that Edwards and Coleman made before the trip started, but might be due even more to the attention Coleman gave the car during the trip. Daily or more frequent inspections sought out low fluids and loose bolts before they became problems. There’s a lot of work involved in getting a 91 year old car from one coast to the other — but it sure looks like a heap of fun.

Ford Model T Coast to Coast: A Slow Drive Across a Fast Country, Tom Cotter with photography by Michael Alan Ross, Motorbooks, May 15, 2018, 10 x 7.9 inches, 224 pages, ISBN 978-0760359464

Available through Amazon.

Musical Review
Cincinnati King

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Although it didn’t feel much like it, this was actually something of a repeat. I attended a reading of KJ Sanchez’ Cincinnati King in Washington Park back in 2015. It was during a King Records celebration and drummer Philip Paul was among the musicians performing before the reading. There was music during the reading, too, but it didn’t make me think of the play as a musical. They’re calling it that now, and they’re right. I don’t doubt that my 2015 perception was off a little. In fact, I’ve probably forgotten more about that performance than I remember. But, as enjoyable as that Washington Park reading was, Cincinnati King sure has sure come a long way since then.

From the long list of colorful and talented people associated with King Records, Sanchez picked three to tell her tale. Syd Nathan, the label’s founder and beyond colorful owner, had to be one of them, of course. To represent Syd’s stable of singers, she chose Little Willie John whose story contains some of King’s best and worst. To help keep that volatile pair on point, she picked the guy who did the same thing for much of King’s product, long time session drummer Philip Paul.

Those great characters are portrayed by great actors. Neal Benari is a convincing and properly blustery Syd Nathans, Stanley Wayne Mathis nails Philip Paul, and Richard Crandle made me wish I could have attended just one Little Willie John performance. Benari and Mathis do sing one song each, but it’s Crandle, along with Cullen R. Titmas and Anita Welch, doing the heavy vocal lifting. Titmas and Welch kind of work their way through the King roster from Cowboy Copas to Moon Mullican and Annisteen Allen to Lula Reed. Welch has a wonderful voice and her dancing certainly adds to the show as well. The singers are backed by a top notch quartet comprised of Music Director Richard Livingston Huntley on drums, Terrell Montgomery on bass, Ralph Huntley on piano, and Seth L. Johnson on guitar.

Cincinnati King doesn’t tell the complete King story but it does paint a representative picture. From our current perspective the King Record story may seem rather sad but that could be mostly perception. King Records was successful: the sixth largest record company in the country. It was innovative: the first record company to record, manufacture, package, and distribute its product. It was progressive: generally colorblind hiring practices and minorities in key positions. It was trend setting: Little Willie John preceded James Brown, Moon Mullican preceded Jerry Lee Lewis. It was inspired: Fever, The Twist, The Train Kept A-Rollin’, and other long lived songs originated there. It was noticed: Syd Nathan is in the Rock & Roll and Bluegrass Halls of Fame and several King artists are in one or the other. KJ Sanchez gives us a feel for all of that in a highly entertaining two hours.

It’s also an informative two hours, and I could tell that parts of the story were real revelations to some of the audience. I’m no authority but I have read a fair amount about King Records and Syd Nathan over the years. Still, one piece of the story was entirely new to me. Syd Nathan, in the very early 1960s, traveled to Hamburg, Germany, to see the Beatles. It’s implied that he could have signed them but missed his chance. Whether or not an actual signing was likely, the reason for Syd not even making it to the club is telling. At some point on the day he was to see the Beatles, he watched a group of German boys walk by from his hotel room window. It’s not clear what it was about the boys that seemed menacing but the sighting caused Syd to stay in his room until time to return to London the next day. The Third Reich had been defeated little more than fifteen years earlier. Germany was not a place the Cincinnati Jew wanted to be.

I think it was the day after I saw Cincinnati King that I read a review written a few days earlier. It was very positive. I’d enjoyed the show immensely and the review reinforced my impressions. It praised the story, the actors, the musicians, and the staging. It was all flowers and sunbeams until the very last paragraph. Describing the show as “anchored in local history”, it concluded that it is “not a show that’s likely to move on to other cities and venues.” Maybe so, I thought. King was definitely a Cincinnati company. But I almost immediately started questioning the review’s conclusion. The company’s influence sure wasn’t limited to its home town. People all across the nation were once interested in its music; Why wouldn’t they be interested in its story? There’s a quote from former Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Director Terry Stewart on that panel I photographed:

There are only three places in the country that can claim to be the birthplace of Rock and Roll: New Orleans, Memphis, and Cincinnati.

I’ve no idea what plans may or may not exist for Cincinnati King. I’ve a hunch that KJ Sanchez doesn’t believe that “other cities and venues” are out of reach. I don’t.

Cincinnati King is at Playhouse in the Park through December 23.

Book Review
Unlikely General
Mary Stockwell

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Anthony Wayne gave Fort Greene Ville and Fort Recovery their names. They were significant in both his life and mine although the level of significance is severely tilted toward Wayne. Fort Recovery is where the army led by Arthur St. Clair was nearly annihilated in 1791. It got its name when soldiers under Wayne’s command built a small fort there in 1793. Also built in 1793, Fort Greene Ville stood twenty some miles to the south and was Wayne’s home base during the Northwest Indian War. The treaty ending that war was signed there in 1795. The town that developed on the site of the abandoned fort adopted the shortened name Greenville. I grew up near the midpoint between Greenville and Fort Recovery and adopted Anthony Wayne as a hero at a very early age. I eventually figured out that much of the initial attraction was due the the cool bicorne hat he was commonly shown in, but the fact remains that I’ve known of General “Mad” Anthony Wayne nearly all of my life.

When I learned that Mary Stockwell would be discussing her new book about Wayne in nearby Lebanon, I jumped at the chance to attend. At a minimum, I hoped to learn what the word “unlikely” was doing in her book’s title. With what I knew of Wayne, he seemed the most likely of generals to attempt a turn around following St. Clair’s disaster. Turns out there was a lot I didn’t know.

I knew about his time in Ohio with a fair level of detail, but I knew only highlights and generalities about his Revolutionary War days. I knew that he had been successful in several battles and that his biggest claim to fame at that time was taking Stoney Point, New York, from the British. I did not know that his personal life and lack of success in business meant that many of those in power did not have much confidence in the man. There was plenty of opposition to putting him in charge of what was essentially the entire army of the United States, and he was not at all the likely choice for the role I’d long assumed.

Some attending the presentation knew even less than I about Wayne’s pre-Indian War days. It was rather common, Stockwell noted, for people living in the east to know all about his Revolutionary War exploits and little or nothing about his post-revolution accomplishments and for the opposite situation to exist in our part of the country. Her book fills in details from both phases of his military career and the rest of his life as well. In doing that, she also provides glimpses of the birth of the United States of America and of the beginning of its westward expansion.

Much of Stockwell’s information on Wayne comes from reading actual letters written by and to him. This provides insight into his relationship with some of the most prominent figures of the day, such as Washington, Knox, Lafayette, St. Clair, and others, and with his friends and family. That last group, friends and family, was one I previously knew very little about. That personal life I referenced earlier included numerous involvements with women other than his wife, Polly. Correspondence between the two varied from frequent and loving to seldom and formal. His long absences and his womanizing were certainly related but which was the cause of the other isn’t really consistent. There is little doubt that he sometimes used his military activities as an excuse for staying away from home, but there is no doubt that his devotion to the new nation was completely genuine. The United States of America was something he was never anything but faithful to during its birth and infancy.

Stockwell skillfully weaves Wayne’s two wars together. There are some similarities, of course, such as the constant struggle to get government officials to feed and cloth the men they sent off to fight. But there are big differences in Wayne himself. He experienced periods of deep depression in both but during the Revolutionary War he was young, energetic, enthusiastic, and uncommonly handsome. By the time he set out to create the Legion of the United States from virtually nothing, old war wounds and severe gout might incapacitate him for days at a time. During that final campaign, his staff often wrapped his limbs in flannel and lifted him onto his horse out of sight of the troops.

It was probably about sixty-five years ago that I was hooked by that super groovy hat and decided that the dude under it was my hero. It was only a few years later that I saw a painting of a hat-less Wayne and was shocked to learn it was the same person. That painting might even be the same one that appears on the cover of this book. It was at least similar. I recognized that there was more to a man than his hat and Wayne survived as a childhood hero. Inside Unlikely General, Mary Stockwell reveals a lot more than a high forehead. Anthony Wayne was not, as some have interpreted his nickname, insane, but he was a long way from perfect. Perhaps the fact that I’m much older now explains why I was less shocked at learning of the imperfections than I had been at my first sight of Wayne bare-headed.

Anthony Wayne was once the most honored and well known military man in the country. Today, despite being on towns, streets, and other items, his name seems to be be barely recognized outside of Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana. Hopefully this book will make his name a little better known. On the other hand, part of me can’t help but think he might never have fallen from the public consciousness if only he’d kept that hat on.

Unlikely General: “Mad” Anthony Wayne and the Battle for America, Mary Stockwell, Yale University Press, April 24, 2018, 9.2 x 6.1 inches, 376 pages, ISBN 978-0300214758
Available through Amazon.

Book Review
Taking the Tolls Along the National Road Through Ohio
Cyndie L. Gerken

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The question was never if there would be another book, just when and what. The answers are “now” (actually February) and “toll gates”. In my review of Cyndie L. Gerken’s first book, Marking the Miles Along the National Road Through Ohio, I noted that the huge amount of information presented in that book was only a portion of what Gerken has collected and that we would probably someday see “a Gerken penned treatise on bridges or taverns or toll houses or something else” which shows that taking three or four guesses really improves one’s chances of being right. Nailed it!

Taking the Tolls Along the National Road Through Ohio: A Study of Toll Gates and Toll Houses on Ohio’s National Road duplicates the form of Gerken’s first book. Both are rather large paperbacks. Both books are also filled with accurate and precise information, but that part’s not duplication; That’s just what Gerken does.

Federal funds for building the National Road dried up somewhere around Springfield, Ohio. Federal funds for maintaining it seem to have never existed. The “Gates Bill” of 1822 was a valiant attempt to finance ongoing maintenance through federally operated toll gates, but President Monroe vetoed the bill. At the time, the role of the federal government in internal improvements was a hotly debated topic. Regarding the power to establish and collect tolls, Madison was “…of the opinion that Congress does not possess this power…” The Feds solved the problem by giving the road to the states. The states solved the problem by charging to use the road. Sometimes the state charged the users directly by collecting tolls. Sometimes the state leased sections of the road to counties or even privately owned companies who then collected tolls.

In Ohio, things got started with seventeen toll gates which were soon augmented by three half gates. One thing this book taught me is that half gates are not, as I convinced myself, gates where a toll is charged in only one direction (Hey, it’s not that dumb!), but gates placed between full gates to catch traffic entering and leaving the road without paying any toll at all. Over the years, individual gates were moved and closed and new ones added.

As she did with her first book, Gerken details her subject in a chapter per county moving east to west. However, before that happens, there is an introduction filled with information about the road and toll gates in general, then chapters on vehicles, toll house architecture, and bridges. Each of these, and the county chapters too, contain numerous photos and stories that color in the detailed information and keep things from becoming boring.

Pictures of gate houses and gate keepers are to be expected, but they are not the only photo subjects presented. This might be the only book available with pictures of the world’s longest bar, grave robbers, a two-headed calf, a Spanish dime, Hopalong Cassidy, and the author’s mother riding in a goat cart. And every one of them belongs.

People almost always keep things from being boring, and Gerken didn’t just compile data on buildings and locations. She dug up facts and stories on the people who occupied those buildings. Although much of that information is sprinkled throughout the book, even more is concentrated in a chapter titled “Meet the Gate Keepers” that follows the county chapters.

At this point, the book could be called boring without triggering a big argument from me. It is here that Gerken lists her numerous references and places several appendices of source material for rates, dates, and so on. Because of Gerken’s thorough research, the entire volume is certain to find work as a reference book but that is especially true of the last fifty or so pages. Three hundred pages of a nice blend of information and entertainment followed by fifty pages of “just the facts” is a pretty good mix.

Taking the Tolls Along the National Road Through Ohio: A Study of Toll Gates and Toll Houses on Ohio’s National Road, Cyndie L. Gerken, CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, February 8, 2018, 11 x 8.5 inches, 366 pages, ISBN 978-1981653515
Available through Amazon.

Magazine Review
ROUTE Magazine

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The premier issue of ROUTE Magazine reached my neighborhood last week. Online chatter — from the publisher, some contributors, and quite a few anxious readers — had been building over the last few months. By the time I held a copy in my hands I’d seen the front cover and had a pretty good overview of the contents. Flipping casually through my purchase verified that this was a quality product with lots of photographs nicely reproduced on semi-gloss pages and plenty of inviting text. It also verified something that I was a little slow in realizing: ROUTE Magazine, or at least this issue, is 100% devoted to Route 66. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

The name of author Michael Wallis occupies a prominent spot on the cover. Inside he is the subject of a far ranging interview. Wallis and Route 66 have been tightly tied together since his book, Route 66: The Mother Road, was published in 1990. On one hand, there’s an awful lot of “us too” in spotlighting him like this. On the other, there’s probably a fair amount of credibility to be gained from the interview.

An interview with restaurateur Albert Okura is also listed on the cover along with a set of photographs from David Schwartz and some reminiscing by Jim Hinckley. Okura founded the highly successful Juan Pollo chain and has put his own money into saving bits of Route 66 including the town of Amboy, California. The basic story is well known in the Route 66 community but the interview shines some light on the man behind the story. David Schwartz is an extremely talented photographer living in the no-where-near-Route-66 town of Cleveland, Ohio, who is rapidly getting a reputation for capturing his love for the road in his photos. Author Jim Hinckley is responsible for the best writing in this issue with his memories of six decades of personal experience with Route 66. Some were familiar but some — especially those of Ed’s Camp proprietor Ed Edgerton — were fresh and fun to read.

In addition, the magazine contains a few nuggets from Ron Warnick’s Route66News.com, a “Women on the Route” article, a piece on route-side lodging, and a short form interview with former Midpoint owner Fran Houser. “Women on the Route”, written by Katharine McLaughlin, talks about Katrina Parks’ documentary project and draws information from it. There are some historic mom-and-pops (e.g., Wagon Wheel, Boots) included in the lodgings article but there are also some fairly upscale boutique establishments that don’t often appear in Route 66 listings. The Fran Houser interview appears on the end page under a “Parting Shot” label so I suspect something similar will be a regular feature.

I mentioned that I was slow coming to the realization that this is essentially a Route 66 focused publication. Posts on the magazine’s Facebook page made in the lead-up to publication included at least one Lincoln Highway and one US-50 reference and they apparently caught my eye more than they should have. Looking a little closer, I now see that 90+% of the posts were Route 66 references and all of the magazine’s posts not on its own page were in Route 66 oriented groups. Again I say there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m personally a little less interested than I would have been otherwise but there seems to be significant interest from others and the first issue does look good.

Distribution is currently through Barnes and Noble stores although it appears that not every store is carrying the magazine. Of the two closest to me, one is and one isn’t. Subscription details are still being worked out but are to be available soon at the magazine’s website,          www.routemagazine.us. That website is not yet operational making the aforementioned Facebook page (facebook.com/ROUTEMagazine) the place to check for status and news for the time being.

UPDATE 21-Feb-18: Only a few hours after this review was published, ROUTE Magazine announced on Facebook that the website at www.routemagazine.us had gone live. The site includes a page supporting subscriptions.

Book Review
Not For Morbidity’s Sake
Malcolm P. Fletcher

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It’s a familiar story I’d never heard before. In no way is use of the word “familiar” meant to be dismissive. It’s just my way of acknowledging that many aspects of Malcolm Fletcher’s story are to be found in the stories of thousands of other World War II soldiers. Of course, each of those stories is also unique in ways both small and large. Large happenings that make Fletcher’s story unique include the actions that earned him a bronze star and the day he watched his brother get shot and captured. Getting coffee and doughnuts from the Red Cross in February and washing clothes and shaving in May are among the not-so-large pieces of the story that make it real. Numerous photographs, maps, and drawings — many by Fletcher himself — really fill things out.

It’s a great story and well told, but there’s no denying that the mere fact that it is being shared plays a big role in setting this story apart from most of the others. The majority of those soldiers never told their story to anyone. A relative few did write it down or record it but not many saw an audience beyond family, friends, or a veterans organization. That Malcolm Fletcher wanted to share his story is obvious. He expanded his wartime notes and produced a “diary”. The title is his. Not For Morbidity’s Sake came from the fact that, as his son Michael says in the foreword, “…he took no pleasure in telling most of this story”. Malcolm Fletcher died in 1994, and Michael, with help from his brother Mark, made publication of the diary a reality. To a large degree, this meant editing their father’s writings, but they also augmented the story with information gathered from other family members, friends, and even some of the men who served with Malcolm.

As mentioned, not many World War II veterans made any attempt to share their stories. In addition, not all who did were particularly good at it. Malcolm Fletcher was. At twenty-four, he was a little older than most of the enlistees he headed to Europe with in 1944. Maybe that made him a little more observant, or maybe that just came naturally. Either way, his observations fed some rather good sketches and some articulate writing.

Those observations also fed some slightly philosophical thinking on the horrors of war and the brotherhood of man. He had personal experience with both. Whether the deeper of Fletcher’s thoughts came during his time in Europe or while he subsequently transcribed his notes in safety in the USA is unclear and unimportant. He was in the midst of battles where men destroyed each other with cannons, bombs, rifles, bayonets, and flame-throwers. He saw many and met a few French, Belgian, and German civilians whose world was ravaged beyond comprehension. And he was there at the end of the conflict, interacting with German and Russian soldiers to learn that “These Russies are just like us.”

He was there as a strange calmness came to a devastated Europe, and plans were being made to send him and lots of other men to tackle the Japanese. He was there when Hiroshima and Nagasaki were bombed, and the war ended without an invasion. He came home to a world that was damaged in its own way. He stumbled. He regained his balance. He wrote his story. The basic plot may be familiar, but the details are unique and personal, and the telling is something special.

Not For Morbidity’s Sake: A World War II Yankee Division War Diary, Malcolm P. Fletcher, CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (December 10, 2017), 6 x 9 inches, 226 pages, ISBN 978-1981114696
Available through Amazon.

I know Michael Fletcher through his work as a bassist with several local bands. I’ll admit that it’s rather unlikely I would have found this book on my own otherwise. But, if I had, there is no doubt that I would have enjoyed it. Knowing Mike or even knowing who Mike is is certainly not required to appreciate his father’s story. On the other hand, I probably enjoyed this book more than many, and it’s certain that the story is more familiar to me than most. Malcolm Fletcher’s time in the military more or less parallels that of my own father. Both probably crossed the Atlantic in the same convoy, although Dad landed in England rather than France. Both were at the Battle of the Bulge, and both were early crossers of the Siegfried Line.

But there were definitely big differences. Dad was a courier and spent most of his time driving a Jeep or truck. He was usually at or near the front but was not directly involved in the fighting in the way Malcolm Fletcher was. And he never talked about it the way Malcolm Fletcher did. I kind of wish he had. I’d certainly like to know more, but I think his “silence” was rather typical. There were occasional, seemingly spontaneous, reminisces that provided cherished glimpses but no long stories and no writing or recording.

Dad served with the 78th “Lightning” Division. Until about four years ago, there was an associated veterans group that published a quarterly newsletter called The Flash. Veterans’ memories were an important part of its makeup, and I read many of them. There are, naturally, similarities between the stories of every soldier in every war in every location, but I was thinking specifically of the stories I’d read in The Flash when I called Not For Morbidity’s Sake “..a familiar story I’d never heard before.” I wrote about the newsletter’s end in One Last Flash in 2013.

Book Review
Darlene’s Silver Streak
John G. Butte

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I first heard of Darlene Dorgan and her friends from a presentation on early female travelers at the Lincoln Highway Association in June. Then they were part of a similar presentation at a Route 66 conference in October. This book may have been mentioned in either or both of those presentations but, if so, it didn’t register. What finally got me interested in Darlene’s Silver Streak and The Bradford Model T Girls was when a blog I follow, Curbside Classics, ran a three part story in November that was akin to a condensed version of the book. Those posts also made me aware of a website, Gypsy Coeds, created by the book’s author and the fact that the car was currently on loan to the Model T Museum in nearby Richmond, Indiana. I headed over, checked out the car, and bought the book.

By then, I knew the basics of the story. In a deal that had his daughter give up her dreams of college, Bill Dorgan gave her a car and dreams of college turned into dreams of travel. Over the next several years, Bill’s daughter Darlene used that car to carry her and her friends to the USA’s east and west coasts, its northern and southern borders, and even into Canada. That would not seem particularly unusual if it happened today and only slightly more so if it happened a few decades ago. But it happened in the 1930s when groups of young women typically didn’t undertake anything of the sort without males at their side.

The car was a 1926 Ford Model T that was painted silver and eventually given the name “Silver Streak”. Between 1934 and 1942, Darlene made eight major outings in the car along with four or five friends. John Butte’s mother was on one of those trips and his aunt on another. Having read that Butte had done considerable research, I expected the book to include details of those trips and it does. For each of the journeys Butte identifies the participants, the dates, and the general route. Among his sources are newspaper articles, conversations with Gypsy Coed descendants, some Gypsy Coed diaries, and even conversations with a couple of the Coeds themselves. He documents his findings with reproductions of articles and various communications, excerpts from diaries and interviews, and plenty of photographs. Even though, as I said, I expected details of that sort to be there, I was a little surprised at the amount of detail presented.

The “Bradford”, in the title is Bradford, Illinois. It’s the small town about thirty miles north of Peoria that Darlene called home. Butte begins his book by talking about the town and the Dorgan family’s role there. To some extent it’s a familiar tale of small town America and the changes brought on by the automobile and other developments, but Butte mixes general observations about the period with details of the Dorgans and Bradford to paint a solid picture of the world from which the young women launched their adventures.

Those adventures — and adventure seems exactly the right word — included seeing two World Fairs, the Dionne Quintuplets, and Henry Ford. Of those, the Quints came first, on the third big trip in 1937. After driving to Callander, Canada, the girls weren’t about to settle for a few orchestrated peeks at the children. They also managed to meet Dr. Dafoe who had delivered the quintuplets. That was not a common occurrence at all. The next year, they spontaneously interrupted a Wisconsin camping trip to drive to Detroit to wish Henry Ford a happy birthday. They managed to meet him, too.

The meeting with Ford proved quite valuable to the girls, particularly on their next two trips. In 1939 they attended the World Fair in New York and in 1940 drove to the one in San Francisco. On both trips, the girls and the car benefited greatly from special attention from the Ford Motor Company.

There are two parts to Darlene’s Silver Streak. The first, called “Creating the Legacy”, consists of what I’ve described so far. Part two, “Continuing the Legacy”, is John Butte’s own story. Following the passing of his parents, he and his siblings reminisced about the stories their mother told of her experience as a Gypsy Coed in 1939. One thing led to another and John ended up finding and buying the Silver Streak in 2012. At times it seems that too much of this second part involves things that have nothing to do with the car but it does provide a picture of someone who is not a “car guy” becoming the owner and caretaker of a unique piece of automotive history. He hasn’t suddenly turned into what most think of as a “car guy” but he does seem to enjoy his stewardship role and clearly takes it seriously. Part of being a good steward can be learning and sharing everything you can about your charge. John Butte earns high marks in that department with Darlene’s Silver Streak.

Darlene’s Silver Streak and The Bradford Model T Girls, John G. Butte, John Butte Publishing (August 25, 2015), 8 x 10 inches, 304 pages, ISBN 978-0692491201
Available through Amazon.

I mentioned in the review that I saw the Silver Streak at the Model T Museum in Richmond, Indiana. Here are some pictures from that visit. The car is on loan to the museum until August, 2018.

Book Review
Transforming Cincinnati
ArtWorks Cincinnati

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It would be nearly impossible to spend any time at all around Cincinnati and not notice that its mural population has been increasing. I’ve noticed but I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand that ArtWorks Cincinnati, a name I sometimes noticed being associated with a new mural, wasn’t just a company hired to paint some pictures on some walls. I started to understand that aspect of Cincinnati’s murals just a little when ads for Transforming Cincinnati started to appear that included pieces of the back story. At that point I thought I understood the book’s title but, as I learned when I attended the big premier nearly two weeks ago, that was probably what I understood the least. The official launch took place on November 18 at a “Book Premier & Artist Signing” hosted by Joseph-Beth Booksellers. I attended with the idea of getting a copy with a few autographs in it. I got so much more.

Part of the back story I was starting to hear concerned Cincinnati Mayor Mark Mallory challenging ArtWorks to create murals for each of the city’s 52 neighborhoods. That was in 2007 and ArtWorks was already well established. Their previous projects included 2000’s Big Pig Gig where 425 full sized fiberglass pigs were decorated and displayed around Cincinnati. For those who don’t know, Cincinnati was once the largest pork-producing city in the world and was known as “Porkopolis”. In the decade since they accepted the mayor’s challenge, ArtWorks has completed 147 murals in 37 neighborhoods.

That is essentially what I knew when I arrived at the launch. John Fox, the book’s editor, served as MC for a panel of artists who answered his questions and told some stories. Thinking I understood the book’s title, I expected to hear about how a mural had transformed an ugly building or brought some brightness to a dreary corner, and how all those murals worked together to transform the city. I did hear a little of that but I also heard about how the projects had transformed people. It wasn’t long before I grasped the connection between ArtWorks and “creative job-training”. The fact that I don’t live in Cincinnati proper is the only excuse I have for not seeing this earlier. ArtWorks doesn’t just go into a neighborhood and paint a mural they think is cool. They work with the neighborhoods to design a mural that is appropriate and they do it — and create the mural itself — with the help of young apprentices. When possible, those apprentices come from the mural’s neighborhood. As ArtWorks founder Tamara Harekavy explains in the book’s introduction “These usually are the teens’ first paid jobs, certainly the first time they’ve been paid to make art.” That is creative job training in every sense of the word.

As I listened, it became apparent that it wasn’t just the teen apprentices who were transformed. Designers, project managers, and teaching artists were all affected by the projects. Even famed nature artist John Ruthven, who helped reproduce his painting “Martha, The Last Passenger Pigeon” on a six-story building, talked glowingly of working with the teens and seeing his work on such a giant scale. The mural was painted in 2013 when he was 89. That’s Ruthven on the left side of the photo. Tamara Harekavy is on his left, then mural artists Jonathan Queen and Jenny Ustick, and book designer Christopher A Ritter.

So what about the book? All I’ve talked about so far is my buying experience. Well, it’s a fairly large format (9 x 12) photo book about murals. Therefore the bulk of its pages are filled with pictures of murals and more pictures of murals. These are typically accompanied with the names of everyone involved and that includes the Youth Apprentices. But there are also descriptions (and pictures) of the process, extra information on some murals, and a couple of maps showing mural locations. Many of the mural pictures are, as might be expected, an accurate as possible recording of the actual mural and nothing else. Others show a considerable chunk of the mural’s surroundings. This is something the book’s creators made extra effort to do since the murals are intended to fit into and enhance their locations. There are also several fold-outs that provide wonderful four-page views of selected murals including the aforementioned “Martha, The Last Passenger Pigeon”.

Transforming Cincinnati, ArtWorks Cincinnati, Orange Frazer Press (November 2017), 9 x 12 inches, 160 pages, ISBN 978-1939710-765
Available from ArtWorks Cincinnati, Orange Frazer Press, and in store at Joseph-Beth Booksellers Cincinnati.

Book Review
The World from My Bike
Anna Grechishkina

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Wow! This is one of the most captivating books I have ever held in my hands. It is the product of one of the most determined woman I have ever met on one of the most exciting adventures I can imagine. Claiming to have met Anna Grechishkina is actually something of a stretch. At the 2014 Route 66 Festival in Kingman, Arizona, she joined some festival attendees for dinner. Our “meeting” consisted of a second or so of eye contact and a group hello. But I learned of her dream and her plans to fulfill it and I have followed her journey from that point on.

That journey had started just over a year before when she left her home in Ukraine to travel the world on a motorcycle. In that time she had traveled east through Russia then south through Asia and Australia. From Kingman she would cover much of the US then turn south and ride along both coasts of South America before jumping across the Atlantic to Africa. I believe she was in Tanzania when The World from My Bike was completed. As I write this, Anna has just reached Sudan.

I confess to being surprised by the book even though I certainly should not have been. Pre-publication descriptions made it clear that the book was not organized either chronologically or geographically. I know I read that, and have to think I understood it, but it apparently didn’t really sink in. Until I actually opened it and started “reading”, I foolishly expected a standard model travelogue with dates and miles and maps and such. As Anna herself explained in those pre-pub descriptions, The World from My Bike is organized “…according to the emotions I felt at different stages of my journey.”

On the other hand, maybe I intentionally resisted that understanding. I must also confess that I might have turned away from a book I thought was nothing but personal emotions. But regardless of whether I accidentally or intentionally sidestepped the description, I’m sure glad I did. My silly preconceptions might otherwise have caused me to miss out on something wonderful.

There are 365 photographs in the book. I didn’t count them. That number is given in the book’s preface. That three paragraph preface is just about the largest collection of words in the entire volume. It might be exceeded, but only slightly, by the five paragraphs that appear on the back cover. A date and location is given for every photo and most are accompanied by a bit of text. Sometimes the text relates to a specific picture.

The town was alive, rich and arrogant. But diamonds which were the main reason for the town’s existence started to deplete , and the town of Kolpanskop in Namibia eventually turned into a ghost town as its inhabits left all their possessions behind and rushed for another shaky hope. Little by little sand took over what was once the subject of admiration and luxury

But more often it expresses a thought that is augmented by the picture.

Everywhere I go I am a stranger. Well respected, welcomed and even admired, but a stranger. No matter how many interesting stories I tell, I am a passer-by and observer, and soon I will be gone. The most I can expect is to leave good memories behind me.

And sometimes it simply provides some practical real-world advice.

If you wait a few more minutes and don’t rush back home straight after the sun went down you’ll see kaleidoscope of colors and forms which might surpass even beauty of the sunset.

The photographs are beautiful by themselves. There are, of course, numerous images of stunning scenery, but there are also street scenes and photos of people including several riveting portraits. The word “exotic” popped into my American mind many times.

There are 150 pages in the book. Those I did count. They are not numbered. There are four sections — Happiness, Challenges, Lessons, and Fun — but there is no table of contents. It would be meaningless without page numbers. This is not unique. In fact, the organization is very similar to that of Hues of my Vision by Ara Gureghian, another motorcyclist. It no doubt registers more with me here largely because of my own faulty expectations of something linear. This organization is clearly the correct one. There are a few places where two or three pictures work together to complete a thought but, for the most part, the book can be opened anywhere and happily experienced without turning a page.

The book can be purchased at The World from My Bike and I absolutely encourage you to get one. It’s a dandy.