Readers of my blog know I was not born in Oswego, a city I consider to be my hometown, even though I was not born there. I lived in Oswego full time from a few days after my birth until my matriculation at Penn eighteen years later (not counting five summers at Eagle Cove). I am almost envious of those tens of thousands who can say they were actually born in Oswego because their connection was from day one. Most of them were normal people who lived normal lives, nothing special. However, some were special.
Erik Cole was born in Oswego on November 6, 1978 (currently 39 years-old). He graduated from Oswego High School in 1996, having played ice hockey for the Buccaneers (a sport that was not offered in 1963 when I graduated). The following winter, Erik moved to Des Moines, Iowa to play in the United States Hockey League (for amateur players under twenty years-of-age). He then matriculated at Clarkson University (Potsdam, New York) where he played ice hockey three seasons for the Golden Knights.
In 2000, Erik signed a professional contract with the Carolina Hurricanes (Raleigh, NC) of the National Hockey League (NHL). After playing a little over one season in a minor league, he began playing for the Hurricanes. Erik played 13 seasons in the NHL, mostly with Carolina, scoring 271 goals.
The highlight of Erik's career was 2006 when, as a Hurricane, he was a member of the NHL championship team. Thus, the name Erik Cole is written on the world famous Stanley Cup. He retired from professional ice hockey this past September.
David McConnell was born in Oswego on July 15, 1858. He attended the Oswego State Normal School (the same as did my mother) with the intention of becoming a math teacher. Instead, David entered the world of business. He started out selling books house to house for the Union Publishing Company, making his home in Atlanta, Georgia.
In order to augment his sales, David added perfumes, which he made himself, to the items he offered his customers. He believed that if books could be sold house to house, so could perfumes, which he noted women were quite interested in. David then started the California Perfume Company (CPC), with a laboratory in Suffern, New York. "Distribution of his products (was) through housewives and other women who could devote only a portion of their time to the work."
Eventually, CPC would become Avon Allied Products, Inc. (Avon), which is today a world-wide cosmetics company. David served as president, chairman of the board, and principal owner of Avon until his death on January 20, 1937 at the age of eighty-eight. For five years now, my daughter Rachel has been an executive at Avon.
Dr. Mary Walker was born in Oswego on November 26, 1832 (185 years ago today). As a young woman, she taught school in nearby Minetto, New York to earn enough money to study at what is now known as the State University of New York Upstate Medical University (where my sister studied). In 1855, Mary graduated as the sole woman in her class.
In 1861 when the Civil War started, Mary Walker volunteered to join the Union Army as a medical doctor. In this capacity, she was at the first battle of Bull Run (Virginia) in July of that year. Mary was a "field surgeon (first woman as such in the Union Army) at the Battle of Fredericksburg (Virginia - December 1862) and (near) the Battle of Chichamauga (Tennessee - September 1863)."
On April 10, 1864, Mary was captured by Confederate troops and sent to a POW camp in Richmond, Virginia, until she was released as part of a prisoner exchange on August 12 of that same year. After the war, for her courageous service to the United States of America, Dr. Mary Walker was "recommended for the Medal of Honor by Generals William Tecumseh Sherman and George Henry Thomas. On November 11, 1865, President Andrew Johnson signed a bill to award her the medal." She is the only woman in U.S. history to receive the Medal of Honor. Mary wore it until her death in Oswego on February 21, 1919 at the age of eighty-six.
Sunday, November 26, 2017
Sunday, November 19, 2017
Best of Intentions, Chapter 17
In the Oval Office of the White House, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt dictates a letter to Mexican President Manuel Avila Comacho.
"My dear President Comacho: Inasmuch as neutrality is the stated policy of your government in regard to the current war between the United States of America and its enemies, the Empire of Japan and the German Reich, I require immediate and satisfactory assurances that there exists no threat to the United States from the project currently funded by your government and directed by the scientist, Julius Karchevsky. If I do not receive such assurances, I will consider it my duty as President of the United States of America to consider drastic measures to protect the safety of the American people. I look forward to your earliest response. Sincerely, FDR."
In his office at Los Pinos, President Comacho dictates his response to Roosevelt's letter.
"My dear President Roosevelt: I can assure you that the government of Mexico is not funding any project that may be deemed injurious to the United States of America. Furthermore, I have no information on anyone either in the employ of my government or residing in Mexico named Julius Karchevsky. In addition, I resent your threats against my country. We want to live in peace with our neighbors. However, if and when Mexico is confronted by, as you say, "drastic measures," it cannot back away. Your country has invaded Mexico several times and the government and people of Mexico will not stand idly by if you choose to do it again. Sincerely, Manuel Avila Comacho."
Ben and Rita enjoy a romantic dinner in an upscale restaurant in Mexico City. They are jovial as they eat, drink, laugh and talk. Their smiles are genuine.
President Roosevelt meets privately with the Secretary of War, Henry Stimson.
"I am ordering you to prepare a military plan to invade Mexico within three months from today for the express purpose of capturing a scientist named Julius Karchevsky, who is currently in Mexico City, and bringing him to Washington. I sincerely hope this won't be necessary, but we must be prepared to move on this. It is not my wish to occupy Mexico or cause unnecessary destruction or loss of life, but we must make sure we don't have another sneak attack on our hands."
"We will carry out your orders, Mr. President."
"For the next three months, this is your highest priority. Understand?"
"Yes, Mr. President."
"My dear President Comacho: Inasmuch as neutrality is the stated policy of your government in regard to the current war between the United States of America and its enemies, the Empire of Japan and the German Reich, I require immediate and satisfactory assurances that there exists no threat to the United States from the project currently funded by your government and directed by the scientist, Julius Karchevsky. If I do not receive such assurances, I will consider it my duty as President of the United States of America to consider drastic measures to protect the safety of the American people. I look forward to your earliest response. Sincerely, FDR."
In his office at Los Pinos, President Comacho dictates his response to Roosevelt's letter.
"My dear President Roosevelt: I can assure you that the government of Mexico is not funding any project that may be deemed injurious to the United States of America. Furthermore, I have no information on anyone either in the employ of my government or residing in Mexico named Julius Karchevsky. In addition, I resent your threats against my country. We want to live in peace with our neighbors. However, if and when Mexico is confronted by, as you say, "drastic measures," it cannot back away. Your country has invaded Mexico several times and the government and people of Mexico will not stand idly by if you choose to do it again. Sincerely, Manuel Avila Comacho."
Ben and Rita enjoy a romantic dinner in an upscale restaurant in Mexico City. They are jovial as they eat, drink, laugh and talk. Their smiles are genuine.
President Roosevelt meets privately with the Secretary of War, Henry Stimson.
"I am ordering you to prepare a military plan to invade Mexico within three months from today for the express purpose of capturing a scientist named Julius Karchevsky, who is currently in Mexico City, and bringing him to Washington. I sincerely hope this won't be necessary, but we must be prepared to move on this. It is not my wish to occupy Mexico or cause unnecessary destruction or loss of life, but we must make sure we don't have another sneak attack on our hands."
"We will carry out your orders, Mr. President."
"For the next three months, this is your highest priority. Understand?"
"Yes, Mr. President."
Sunday, November 12, 2017
Crème de Menthe Parfait
When I first matriculated at the University of Pennsylvania in 1963, I lived on the fifth floor of the Class of 1928 dormitory in the upper quad off 37th and Spruce Streets in Philadelphia. There were 33 freshmen males living on the floor divided equally among 11 rooms. Initially, I had roommates from Boston and Orlando. In the middle of the year, there was a grand exchange on the entire floor and I got two new roommates, Mike Parr from Baltimore and Ralph Pincus from Pittsburgh.
However, the only one from that fifth floor group I am still friends with is Scott Kahn from Springfield, Massachusetts. On a weekend night back in '63, there was a mixer on our floor at the dorm and Scott invited his friend from Springfield, Naomi Bloom, who was also a freshman at Penn. She brought her roommate at Sergeant Hall (women's dorm), Joan Ruth Freedman from Brooklyn, New York, an only child whose father was a neurosurgeon (shades of Ben Casey).
It turns out Joan and I probably met before. In the summer of 1958 or 1959, while I was at Eagle Cove, she was at a girls camp also in the Adirondacks called Greylock. There was a mixer at Greylock in which boys from Eagle Cove were invited.
Joan and I dated on and off while we were at Penn. In November of 1964, fifty-three years ago, I called her for a date. Joan declined my invitation as she was going home that weekend. I then hatched a plan. Saturday morning, I took a train to New York and then a subway to Columbia University's Baker Field to watch the Penn-Columbia football game. Penn lost 33-12.
After the game, I called Joan at her home. At first, I pretended to be someone from Penn reporting she had broken a rule when she left her dorm. Hearing worry in her voice, I told Joan it was me and what I said was a joke. I mentioned I was in New York and had been at the football game (I should have invited her to go with me). Much to my surprise, she invited me to join her and her parents for a pre-show dinner at Barbetta's restaurant on West 46th Street, near Broadway. I accepted.
Joan said she was sorry I hadn't told her I would be in New York as her family had an extra ticket that night for the musical Funny Girl at the Winter Garden Theatre. The extra ticket instead went to a friend of her father's. I almost got to see the 22 year-old superstar, Barbra Streisand, perform live on stage. However, I did have a wonderful dinner with Joan and her parents at a fancy restaurant and afterwards went to Madison Square Garden to see the great Oscar Robertson (the Big O) play basketball in person for the only time in my life. I've never seen Barbra perform live.
After graduating from Penn, Joan earned a Ph.D. from the University of Chicago. In 1992, around the time of our twenty-fifth Penn class reunion, I had lunch with her at the State University of New York at Stony Brook where she was a professor of psychology. Joan reminded me of a story she used to tell her family. On one of our dates at a restaurant on Chestnut Street, I ordered a crème de menthe parfait. In response, the waiter asked to see my ID. As I was under 21, I ordered something else. Until Joan mentioned it, I had forgotten all about that dessert.
However, the only one from that fifth floor group I am still friends with is Scott Kahn from Springfield, Massachusetts. On a weekend night back in '63, there was a mixer on our floor at the dorm and Scott invited his friend from Springfield, Naomi Bloom, who was also a freshman at Penn. She brought her roommate at Sergeant Hall (women's dorm), Joan Ruth Freedman from Brooklyn, New York, an only child whose father was a neurosurgeon (shades of Ben Casey).
It turns out Joan and I probably met before. In the summer of 1958 or 1959, while I was at Eagle Cove, she was at a girls camp also in the Adirondacks called Greylock. There was a mixer at Greylock in which boys from Eagle Cove were invited.
Joan and I dated on and off while we were at Penn. In November of 1964, fifty-three years ago, I called her for a date. Joan declined my invitation as she was going home that weekend. I then hatched a plan. Saturday morning, I took a train to New York and then a subway to Columbia University's Baker Field to watch the Penn-Columbia football game. Penn lost 33-12.
After the game, I called Joan at her home. At first, I pretended to be someone from Penn reporting she had broken a rule when she left her dorm. Hearing worry in her voice, I told Joan it was me and what I said was a joke. I mentioned I was in New York and had been at the football game (I should have invited her to go with me). Much to my surprise, she invited me to join her and her parents for a pre-show dinner at Barbetta's restaurant on West 46th Street, near Broadway. I accepted.
Joan said she was sorry I hadn't told her I would be in New York as her family had an extra ticket that night for the musical Funny Girl at the Winter Garden Theatre. The extra ticket instead went to a friend of her father's. I almost got to see the 22 year-old superstar, Barbra Streisand, perform live on stage. However, I did have a wonderful dinner with Joan and her parents at a fancy restaurant and afterwards went to Madison Square Garden to see the great Oscar Robertson (the Big O) play basketball in person for the only time in my life. I've never seen Barbra perform live.
After graduating from Penn, Joan earned a Ph.D. from the University of Chicago. In 1992, around the time of our twenty-fifth Penn class reunion, I had lunch with her at the State University of New York at Stony Brook where she was a professor of psychology. Joan reminded me of a story she used to tell her family. On one of our dates at a restaurant on Chestnut Street, I ordered a crème de menthe parfait. In response, the waiter asked to see my ID. As I was under 21, I ordered something else. Until Joan mentioned it, I had forgotten all about that dessert.
Sunday, November 5, 2017
Edward G. Robinson
Emanuel Goldenberg was born in Bucharest, Romania in December of 1893. Because of antisemitism, his Jewish family emigrated to the United States in 1903 when he was ten years-old. Emanuel grew up on the lower east side of Manhattan and attended City College of New York with the intention of becoming a criminal lawyer. However, he developed an interest in acting and won a scholarship to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts also in New York. He then changed his name to Edward G. Robinson. The G was for Goldenberg.
After first working in the Yiddish theater, Robinson had his Broadway debut in 1915. He made his first (of over 100) film(s), a silent one, in 1923. His last was fifty years later. Robinson's performance as the gangster Rico in Little Caesar (1931) pushed him into the Hollywood movie star category. He virtually resurrected that role in the hit Key Largo (1948) directed by John Huston and which also starred Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. In this one, Robinson portrayed the gangster Rocco.
In 1944, Robinson took the part of Barton Keyes, an insurance company Claims Manager, in Billy Wilder's very successful movie Double Indemnity which also starred Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray. The film was nominated for seven Academy Awards (but won none), including Best Motion Picture (lost to Going My Way), Best Director (Wilder lost to Leo McCarey for Going My Way) and Best Actress (Stanwyck lost to Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight).
Double indemnity is an insurance term which refers to a "provision for the payment of double the face value of an (life) insurance policy when death occurs (for example) as a result of an accident." In the film, Walter Neff (MacMurray), an insurance salesman, conspires with Phyllis Dietrichson (Stanwyck), the wife of a client, to murder her husband in a way that makes it seem as if his death was an accident in order to collect double the value of the insurance policy he sold her. Neff's colleague at the insurance company, Barton Keyes, tries to solve what he suspects to be a murder, not realizing Neff is one of the murderers.
Robinson's delivery (as Keyes) of Wilder's Academy Award nominated dialogue nearly steals the movie from the other two actors. Some examples are below:
"Come now, you've never read an actuarial table in your life, have you? Why they've got ten volumes on suicide alone. Suicide by race, by color, by occupation, by sex, by seasons of the year, by time of day. Suicide, how committed: by poison, by firearms, by drowning, by leaps. Suicide by poison subdivided by types of poison, such as corrosive, irritant, systemic, gaseous, narcotic, alkaloid, protein, and so forth; suicide by leaps, subdivided by leaps from high places, under the wheels of trains, under the wheels of trucks, under the feet of horses, from steamboats. But, Mr. Norton, of all the cases on record, there's not one single case of suicide by leap from the rear end of a moving train. And you know how fast that train was going at the point where the body was found? Fifteen miles an hour. Now how can anybody jump off a slow-moving train like that with any kind of expectation that he would kill himself? No. No soap, Mr. Norton. We're sunk, and we'll have to pay through the nose, and you know it."
"There it is, Walter. It's beginning to come apart at the seams already. Murder's never perfect. Always comes apart sooner or later, when two people are involved it's usually sooner. Now we know the Dietrichson dame is in it and a somebody else. Pretty soon, we'll know who that somebody else is. He'll show. He's got to show. Sometime, somewhere, they've got to meet. Their emotions are all kicked up. Whether it's love or hate doesn't matter; they can't keep away from each other. They may think it's twice as safe because they're two of them, but it isn't twice as safe. It's ten times twice as dangerous. They've committed a murder! And it's not like taking a trolley ride together where they can get off at different stops. They're stuck with each other and they got to ride all the way to the end of the line and it's a one-way trip and the last stop is the cemetery. She put in her claim...and I'm gonna throw it right back at her. Let her sue us if she dares. I'll be ready for her and that somebody else. They'll be digging their own graves."
"This Dietrichson business. It's murder. And murders don't come any neater. As fancy a piece of homicide as anyone ever ran into. Smart, tricky, almost perfect. But...I think papa has it all figured out. Figured out and wrapped up in tissue paper with...pink ribbons on it."
__________
"Robinson was never nominated for an Academy Award, but in 1973 he was awarded an honorary oscar in recognition that he had achieved greatness as an (actor). He was notified of the honor, but died two months before the award ceremony."
After first working in the Yiddish theater, Robinson had his Broadway debut in 1915. He made his first (of over 100) film(s), a silent one, in 1923. His last was fifty years later. Robinson's performance as the gangster Rico in Little Caesar (1931) pushed him into the Hollywood movie star category. He virtually resurrected that role in the hit Key Largo (1948) directed by John Huston and which also starred Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. In this one, Robinson portrayed the gangster Rocco.
In 1944, Robinson took the part of Barton Keyes, an insurance company Claims Manager, in Billy Wilder's very successful movie Double Indemnity which also starred Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray. The film was nominated for seven Academy Awards (but won none), including Best Motion Picture (lost to Going My Way), Best Director (Wilder lost to Leo McCarey for Going My Way) and Best Actress (Stanwyck lost to Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight).
Double indemnity is an insurance term which refers to a "provision for the payment of double the face value of an (life) insurance policy when death occurs (for example) as a result of an accident." In the film, Walter Neff (MacMurray), an insurance salesman, conspires with Phyllis Dietrichson (Stanwyck), the wife of a client, to murder her husband in a way that makes it seem as if his death was an accident in order to collect double the value of the insurance policy he sold her. Neff's colleague at the insurance company, Barton Keyes, tries to solve what he suspects to be a murder, not realizing Neff is one of the murderers.
Robinson's delivery (as Keyes) of Wilder's Academy Award nominated dialogue nearly steals the movie from the other two actors. Some examples are below:
"Come now, you've never read an actuarial table in your life, have you? Why they've got ten volumes on suicide alone. Suicide by race, by color, by occupation, by sex, by seasons of the year, by time of day. Suicide, how committed: by poison, by firearms, by drowning, by leaps. Suicide by poison subdivided by types of poison, such as corrosive, irritant, systemic, gaseous, narcotic, alkaloid, protein, and so forth; suicide by leaps, subdivided by leaps from high places, under the wheels of trains, under the wheels of trucks, under the feet of horses, from steamboats. But, Mr. Norton, of all the cases on record, there's not one single case of suicide by leap from the rear end of a moving train. And you know how fast that train was going at the point where the body was found? Fifteen miles an hour. Now how can anybody jump off a slow-moving train like that with any kind of expectation that he would kill himself? No. No soap, Mr. Norton. We're sunk, and we'll have to pay through the nose, and you know it."
"There it is, Walter. It's beginning to come apart at the seams already. Murder's never perfect. Always comes apart sooner or later, when two people are involved it's usually sooner. Now we know the Dietrichson dame is in it and a somebody else. Pretty soon, we'll know who that somebody else is. He'll show. He's got to show. Sometime, somewhere, they've got to meet. Their emotions are all kicked up. Whether it's love or hate doesn't matter; they can't keep away from each other. They may think it's twice as safe because they're two of them, but it isn't twice as safe. It's ten times twice as dangerous. They've committed a murder! And it's not like taking a trolley ride together where they can get off at different stops. They're stuck with each other and they got to ride all the way to the end of the line and it's a one-way trip and the last stop is the cemetery. She put in her claim...and I'm gonna throw it right back at her. Let her sue us if she dares. I'll be ready for her and that somebody else. They'll be digging their own graves."
"This Dietrichson business. It's murder. And murders don't come any neater. As fancy a piece of homicide as anyone ever ran into. Smart, tricky, almost perfect. But...I think papa has it all figured out. Figured out and wrapped up in tissue paper with...pink ribbons on it."
__________
"Robinson was never nominated for an Academy Award, but in 1973 he was awarded an honorary oscar in recognition that he had achieved greatness as an (actor). He was notified of the honor, but died two months before the award ceremony."
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