Several friends and family have reported that they have received their pre-ordered copies of "But Not Forgotten!" Shops in Logansport will start getting copies for sale in another week or so.
Hopefully, I will be in Logansport soon to do a couple of launch parties/book signings, then I'll be back in the fall for more signings in advance of the holidays.
Share your thoughts about the book here, on the Facebook page (www.facebook.com/ButNotForgottenBook), or on the Website (www.butnotforgottenbook.com).
Hope to see you soon!
Adventures in writing my first book, “But Not Forgotten,” a historical analysis of Logansport, Indiana.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Last Day to Pre-Order!
Visit my website to order
“But Not Forgotten” for 25% off
through April 30th.
AND, like the But Not
Forgotten Facebook page by April 30th
Today’s Excerpt: The Preface
Logansport, Ind., in the 1970s and ’80s was like most any small Midwestern town, with one important exception that, for me, catapulted its relevance high above all others: It’s where, on a hot summer night in 1972, I entered this world, and where I would spend the next 24 years trying to figure out why.
A town of around 19,000 hard-working folks — most of whom toiled away in factories making any numbers of things (springs, batteries, automotive parts, processed pork), tended to their farms, or cared for the insane at Longcliff state mental hospital — Logansport’s collar was as blue as its clean open sky.
Technologically, it was a transitional era for the nation and, like most sleepy towns that dotted the country’s midsection, my home town was always a couple of years behind the trends. Our phone had no buttons, but a rotary wheel (or, if I was really bored, I could use the old cast-iron phone in the living room, on which I would tap out numbers as if signaling a far-off ship in Morse code).
We had every channel on our television — all 12 of them — plus the “racy” ones I could occasionally glimpse through snowy reception when I adjusted the knob to fall between channels. When I first played the game “Pong,” I imagined that the world was on the brink of Buck Rogers-style technological advances that would change life on Earth forever.
Back then, the main sources of entertainment were inventions of the mind. So, I did what all the other kids did to stay out of trouble: I played in the dirt — and it was gloriously rich, moist, and fertile. The time I spent building bike paths and tunneling miniature thoroughfares beneath the trunks of ancient trees (through which my Hot Wheels cars could pass during imagined cross-country races) brought as much joy to me as my iPod, iMac, HDTV, cell phone, and other contraptions of the Electronic Age do today.
Nestled in a quiet valley about halfway between Chicago and Indianapolis as the crow flies, Logansport was an idyllic place to grow up. Doors did not need locks. A thirst-quenching drink of water was only a garden hose away. The school yard across the street was safe at all hours of the night. Mac’s candy shop, down on the next corner, provided all the sugar a growing boy needed for only a quarter (but I always used my exceptional skills of persuasion to procure 50 cents from Dad, or, if I was really lucky, a Susan B. Anthony dollar). After-school activities were plentiful, as were opportunities for camping trips with the Boy Scout troop.
In later years, the theater became my oasis, thanks to a sizable donation to the community years earlier by lawyer and Logansport native Frank M. McHale that funded the high school’s auditorium. Even though the city was barely large enough to appear on national road maps, the theater rivaled those of most big colleges and drew the likes of Ray Charles, Lou Rawls, Marie Osmond, Peter Nero, and even The Amazing Kreskin.
At some point during my adolescence, doors started locking. Parents demanded that their children be home before dark. For most extra-curricular activities, waivers were required. More fast food chains were popping up along busy U.S. 24 on the East End of Logansport. More downtown storefronts were empty.
It was the beginning of a slow decay from within — a subtle, slow-moving fog that began to envelop the community and gradually stifle its growth. Its methodical pace made it nearly undetectable. Most who did see it were transfixed by the perception of progress — as if the death of a few family businesses was a fair price to pay for the convenience of nationwide chain stores.
During a trip home in 2007, I had the opportunity to talk to old friends and family members and to drive around town. What I saw was: A downtown that was empty and desolate; a mall with an occupancy rate of less than half; for-sale signs on homes all over the city; even abandoned homes (which I was used to seeing in some parts of Philadelphia, but rarely in Logansport). Many of the businesses that once gave the city a unique charm, local flavor, and friendly service — some of which sponsored the Little League teams of my youth — had closed.
That is not to say that there weren’t some signs of increased pride in the community. One particular point of great enjoyment for me was a new set of trails that flanked the north side of the Eel River — part of a state-funded nature walk that will eventually meet up with a similar path along the larger Wabash River. I spent hours walking these paths and breathing in the peaceful fall air. There were signs of reconstruction on some of the few remaining historic buildings and homes in the downtown area as well.
But, in many ways, these cosmetic attempts at change seemed no more effective than those of an old man who rises each day, lubricates his trusty comb, and slowly pulls what remains of his hair across his barren scalp — the damage was done, and more money seemed to be spent attempting to hide that fact than trying to truly change things.
It was as if the home town that brought so much joy to me as a child, encouraged me as an adolescent, and prepared me for my exploration into manhood was gone — nothing now but a memory, barely visible through a new, bleaker reality.
I felt compelled to learn more: About the history of my home town; about the causes of its downward spiral; about the people who stayed and lived through it while I moved away to follow my ambitions; about the long-term effects this malaise had on that once-idyllic childhood home.
As I began to research the issues surrounding Logansport’s stagnation, it became clear that the city had no lack of dedicated individuals who actively and tirelessly worked to save what was left of its history. Likewise, I would soon learn that this decline was not confined to my home town, but was typical of small communities that lost their former industrial base as the economy shifted from a neighborhood focus to a global view.
So began a journey of discovery — both of my home town and of myself. As a journey through history, it would lead me to a new-found appreciation of Logansport’s significance and its turbulent past. As a personal journey, I hoped it would quench a nostalgic thirst — one that inevitably burdens all those whose roots have slowly withered. •
“But Not Forgotten” for 25% off
through April 30th.
AND, like the But Not
Forgotten Facebook page by April 30th
for a chance to win a signed
copy of the book.
Today’s Excerpt: The Preface
A town of around 19,000 hard-working folks — most of whom toiled away in factories making any numbers of things (springs, batteries, automotive parts, processed pork), tended to their farms, or cared for the insane at Longcliff state mental hospital — Logansport’s collar was as blue as its clean open sky.
Technologically, it was a transitional era for the nation and, like most sleepy towns that dotted the country’s midsection, my home town was always a couple of years behind the trends. Our phone had no buttons, but a rotary wheel (or, if I was really bored, I could use the old cast-iron phone in the living room, on which I would tap out numbers as if signaling a far-off ship in Morse code).
We had every channel on our television — all 12 of them — plus the “racy” ones I could occasionally glimpse through snowy reception when I adjusted the knob to fall between channels. When I first played the game “Pong,” I imagined that the world was on the brink of Buck Rogers-style technological advances that would change life on Earth forever.
Back then, the main sources of entertainment were inventions of the mind. So, I did what all the other kids did to stay out of trouble: I played in the dirt — and it was gloriously rich, moist, and fertile. The time I spent building bike paths and tunneling miniature thoroughfares beneath the trunks of ancient trees (through which my Hot Wheels cars could pass during imagined cross-country races) brought as much joy to me as my iPod, iMac, HDTV, cell phone, and other contraptions of the Electronic Age do today.
Nestled in a quiet valley about halfway between Chicago and Indianapolis as the crow flies, Logansport was an idyllic place to grow up. Doors did not need locks. A thirst-quenching drink of water was only a garden hose away. The school yard across the street was safe at all hours of the night. Mac’s candy shop, down on the next corner, provided all the sugar a growing boy needed for only a quarter (but I always used my exceptional skills of persuasion to procure 50 cents from Dad, or, if I was really lucky, a Susan B. Anthony dollar). After-school activities were plentiful, as were opportunities for camping trips with the Boy Scout troop.
In later years, the theater became my oasis, thanks to a sizable donation to the community years earlier by lawyer and Logansport native Frank M. McHale that funded the high school’s auditorium. Even though the city was barely large enough to appear on national road maps, the theater rivaled those of most big colleges and drew the likes of Ray Charles, Lou Rawls, Marie Osmond, Peter Nero, and even The Amazing Kreskin.
At some point during my adolescence, doors started locking. Parents demanded that their children be home before dark. For most extra-curricular activities, waivers were required. More fast food chains were popping up along busy U.S. 24 on the East End of Logansport. More downtown storefronts were empty.
It was the beginning of a slow decay from within — a subtle, slow-moving fog that began to envelop the community and gradually stifle its growth. Its methodical pace made it nearly undetectable. Most who did see it were transfixed by the perception of progress — as if the death of a few family businesses was a fair price to pay for the convenience of nationwide chain stores.
During a trip home in 2007, I had the opportunity to talk to old friends and family members and to drive around town. What I saw was: A downtown that was empty and desolate; a mall with an occupancy rate of less than half; for-sale signs on homes all over the city; even abandoned homes (which I was used to seeing in some parts of Philadelphia, but rarely in Logansport). Many of the businesses that once gave the city a unique charm, local flavor, and friendly service — some of which sponsored the Little League teams of my youth — had closed.
That is not to say that there weren’t some signs of increased pride in the community. One particular point of great enjoyment for me was a new set of trails that flanked the north side of the Eel River — part of a state-funded nature walk that will eventually meet up with a similar path along the larger Wabash River. I spent hours walking these paths and breathing in the peaceful fall air. There were signs of reconstruction on some of the few remaining historic buildings and homes in the downtown area as well.
But, in many ways, these cosmetic attempts at change seemed no more effective than those of an old man who rises each day, lubricates his trusty comb, and slowly pulls what remains of his hair across his barren scalp — the damage was done, and more money seemed to be spent attempting to hide that fact than trying to truly change things.
It was as if the home town that brought so much joy to me as a child, encouraged me as an adolescent, and prepared me for my exploration into manhood was gone — nothing now but a memory, barely visible through a new, bleaker reality.
I felt compelled to learn more: About the history of my home town; about the causes of its downward spiral; about the people who stayed and lived through it while I moved away to follow my ambitions; about the long-term effects this malaise had on that once-idyllic childhood home.
So began a journey of discovery — both of my home town and of myself. As a journey through history, it would lead me to a new-found appreciation of Logansport’s significance and its turbulent past. As a personal journey, I hoped it would quench a nostalgic thirst — one that inevitably burdens all those whose roots have slowly withered. •
Friday, April 29, 2011
Pre-Order Countdown: 1 DAY
Visit my website to order
“But Not Forgotten” for 25% off
through April 30th.
AND, like the But Not
Today’s Excerpt:
My parents met in 1952. Dad was just home from West Germany, where he had been stationed during the Korean War. Mom worked at the soda fountain downtown at Woolworth’s. Their first conversation took place there, when my dad sat down at the counter and Mom greeted him.
“What would you like?” she asked in a subtle Southern drawl. A man of few words, he replied, “Well, I’d like a date, but if I can’t have that, I’ll just take a cherry Coke.
They were married less than a year later and, with the birth of their first son, their family quickly began to grow. Dad worked two full-time jobs to make ends meet — 3 to 11 p.m. at Colonial Rubber and midnight to 8 a.m. at the Pennsylvania Railroad roundhouse. Mom worked downtown — as a seamstress at H.W. Gossard Co. and waitress at the Fraternal Order of Eagles — between the births of their next two sons.
On the weekends, if they weren’t too exhausted from their hectic work schedule, they would head downtown, where there were department stores (Olsen’s, the Golden Rule, J.C. Penney, Sears, Woolworth’s, Kresge’s, Spiegel’s), movie theaters (the Roxy, the State, the Logan), and a plethora of quaint little restaurants, bars, drive-ins, and ice-cream parlors.
That began to change in the 1960s as the railroad declined. When large department stores left town, the smaller shops that fed off the traffic they generated also began to close. Downtown was further decimated by a series of fires that wiped out many of the old department store buildings and adjacent structures.
“But Not Forgotten” for 25% off
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Today’s Excerpt:
Downtown’s Decline
“What would you like?” she asked in a subtle Southern drawl. A man of few words, he replied, “Well, I’d like a date, but if I can’t have that, I’ll just take a cherry Coke.
They were married less than a year later and, with the birth of their first son, their family quickly began to grow. Dad worked two full-time jobs to make ends meet — 3 to 11 p.m. at Colonial Rubber and midnight to 8 a.m. at the Pennsylvania Railroad roundhouse. Mom worked downtown — as a seamstress at H.W. Gossard Co. and waitress at the Fraternal Order of Eagles — between the births of their next two sons.
On the weekends, if they weren’t too exhausted from their hectic work schedule, they would head downtown, where there were department stores (Olsen’s, the Golden Rule, J.C. Penney, Sears, Woolworth’s, Kresge’s, Spiegel’s), movie theaters (the Roxy, the State, the Logan), and a plethora of quaint little restaurants, bars, drive-ins, and ice-cream parlors.
That began to change in the 1960s as the railroad declined. When large department stores left town, the smaller shops that fed off the traffic they generated also began to close. Downtown was further decimated by a series of fires that wiped out many of the old department store buildings and adjacent structures.
In 1966, a blaze — which took the assistance of 12 firefighting units (107 men) from six other cities to contain — destroyed a quarter of a block of downtown, including J.C. Penney, a billiards parlor, a drapery store, a barber shop, a drug store, and other retailers. Damages exceeded $2 million (nearly $13 million in today’s money). Four other smaller fires occurred downtown within a year, and others in 1970, ’73, ’74, ’76, ’77, and ’78 exacerbated the decline of downtown. Much of the downtown area was overbuilt as confident planners anticipated the continued boom of the city. Buildings popped up so quickly between the late 1870s and 1910s that many shared common walls — which spelled disaster when fires broke out or adjacent structures would collapse.
When Dad was laid off by Pennsy, like many of Logansport’s working men, he began commuting to Kokomo — 30 miles away — to work at a large Chrysler automobile plant. But the winter drive in an old clunker quickly forced him to look for local work. He found it at Nelson Screw Products — a small factory that produced steel tubing for the auto industry — where he worked as a janitor in 1962. A dedicated, loyal, and hard-working employee, he soon became a machinist and then shop superintendent.
Thanks to a robust American automotive industry, there were a few machine shops operating in Logansport that employed some of those who were thrown out of work when Pennsy left town. However, other cities within driving distance offered factory jobs that paid more and had better benefits, so those who could afford the necessary means of transportation began to commute — and spend their money elsewhere.
Without the massive local employment of the railroad, fewer people spent time and money downtown. Nationally, as suburbs began to sprawl, downtowns were perceived as being dirty and unsafe, and across the United States people began to flee to the outer edges of cities. In Logansport, stores that burned out were not rebuilt, and soon, parking lots and banks occupied most of downtown as attention shifted toward the forested East End.
When Dad was laid off by Pennsy, like many of Logansport’s working men, he began commuting to Kokomo — 30 miles away — to work at a large Chrysler automobile plant. But the winter drive in an old clunker quickly forced him to look for local work. He found it at Nelson Screw Products — a small factory that produced steel tubing for the auto industry — where he worked as a janitor in 1962. A dedicated, loyal, and hard-working employee, he soon became a machinist and then shop superintendent.
Thanks to a robust American automotive industry, there were a few machine shops operating in Logansport that employed some of those who were thrown out of work when Pennsy left town. However, other cities within driving distance offered factory jobs that paid more and had better benefits, so those who could afford the necessary means of transportation began to commute — and spend their money elsewhere.
Without the massive local employment of the railroad, fewer people spent time and money downtown. Nationally, as suburbs began to sprawl, downtowns were perceived as being dirty and unsafe, and across the United States people began to flee to the outer edges of cities. In Logansport, stores that burned out were not rebuilt, and soon, parking lots and banks occupied most of downtown as attention shifted toward the forested East End.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Pre-Order Countdown: 2 DAYS
Visit my website to order
“But Not Forgotten” for 25% off
through April 30th.
AND, like the But Not
“But Not Forgotten” for 25% off
through April 30th.
AND, like the But Not
Forgotten Facebook page by April 30th
Today’s excerpt:
A humorous account from an 1890 edition of the Logansport Pharos:
Prostitution was so rampant that the American Social Hygiene Association identified Logansport as a hot spot for the “open toleration of sin” in its nationwide survey of 221 cities. The study was featured in a 1952 article in Look magazine.
The brothels were closed down for good when nearly 50 local, state, and federal authorities raided three brothels in 1980 and arrested 20 people, including madam Sherry Ball. She received a reduced sentence in exchange for her testimony in cases against two former police chiefs and a city councilman indicted on bribery and misconduct charges for accepting more than $20,000 in hush money from the brothels. The successful prosecution was attributed in part to the efforts of the city’s first female mayor, Jone Wilson, to clean up the city.
The houses of ill repute did, however, contribute to the community in positive ways. They would often raise money for charities, and funded the paving of a large oval drive that encircles Riverside Park. Each year, candles were sold at each of the brothels to raise money for — of all things — the Catholic school.
Paul Kroeger, whose funeral home has been in business just a few blocks from the former red-light district since 1952, recalls that the brothels closed “to the universal dismay of many in the community.”
for a chance to win a signed
copy of the book.
Today’s excerpt:
The Red-Light District
A humorous account from an 1890 edition of the Logansport Pharos:
“Mrs. Will Chandler made things lively on Twelfth street for a time last night, by bombarding a house of ill repute in that neighborhood. She entered the place, found her husband enjoying the society of the soiled inmates, lead him out by the ear, and stationing herself on the street proceeded to demolish every window in the ranch by throwing rocks through them. The mistress of the house thought to frighten Mrs. Chandler away by firing several shots at her from a revolver, but it was to no avail, for the plucky little woman stood her ground like a major, and responded to each shot with a perfect shower of rocks.”
It wasn’t just legitimate businesses that profited from Logansport’s reputation among train travelers as a destination city.
A bustling red-light district — just across the tracks from the main depot on Fourth Street — was populated by numerous houses of ill repute. Prostitution was a vice that was largely tolerated by townspeople and the local police, as exemplified by this account of a raid on madam Mary McCarty’s brothel from an 1887 issue of the Logansport Journal:
“Miss McCarty has been keeping a house of prostitution in her present location for some time now, and as her place is quiet and orderly the officers have never molested her. But the neighbors complain now. They say they have no objection to Mary, as a lady, but the gang that haunts the retreat often disturb the peaceful citizens about the place and they intend to prosecute Miss McCarty on that ground.”
A bustling red-light district — just across the tracks from the main depot on Fourth Street — was populated by numerous houses of ill repute. Prostitution was a vice that was largely tolerated by townspeople and the local police, as exemplified by this account of a raid on madam Mary McCarty’s brothel from an 1887 issue of the Logansport Journal:
“Miss McCarty has been keeping a house of prostitution in her present location for some time now, and as her place is quiet and orderly the officers have never molested her. But the neighbors complain now. They say they have no objection to Mary, as a lady, but the gang that haunts the retreat often disturb the peaceful citizens about the place and they intend to prosecute Miss McCarty on that ground.”
Occasional large raids on the so-called “resorts” in the red light district did little to persuade brothel owners to shut down. Men continued to “cross the tracks” throughout the era of the Iron Horse and well into the late 20th century. As trains came in to the main depot, passengers would disembark on the north side of the train (facing the depot). But conductors would allow men who wanted to visit the brothels to use the exits on the other side of the train, which faced the red light district. This allowed the train itself to provide cover for the brothels’ customers, as it blocked the view of the red light district from the busy station.
Prostitution was so rampant that the American Social Hygiene Association identified Logansport as a hot spot for the “open toleration of sin” in its nationwide survey of 221 cities. The study was featured in a 1952 article in Look magazine.
The brothels were closed down for good when nearly 50 local, state, and federal authorities raided three brothels in 1980 and arrested 20 people, including madam Sherry Ball. She received a reduced sentence in exchange for her testimony in cases against two former police chiefs and a city councilman indicted on bribery and misconduct charges for accepting more than $20,000 in hush money from the brothels. The successful prosecution was attributed in part to the efforts of the city’s first female mayor, Jone Wilson, to clean up the city.
The houses of ill repute did, however, contribute to the community in positive ways. They would often raise money for charities, and funded the paving of a large oval drive that encircles Riverside Park. Each year, candles were sold at each of the brothels to raise money for — of all things — the Catholic school.
Paul Kroeger, whose funeral home has been in business just a few blocks from the former red-light district since 1952, recalls that the brothels closed “to the universal dismay of many in the community.”
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Pre-Order Countdown: 3 DAYS
Visit my website to order
“But Not Forgotten” for 25% off
through April 30th.
AND, like the But Not Forgotten Facebook page by April 30th
for a chance to win a signed copy
of the book.
Today’s excerpt: Remembering
a great locally owned business
In March 1987, as a high-school freshman, I traveled to the Bahamas during spring break with around 50 other members of the Logansport High School band to perform a concert in Freeport. During the trip, Mom decided to take on a major renovation of my bedroom — a project that would allow her to pass the time during one of the occasional periods when she and Dad weren’t on speaking terms.
Mom’s idea was to construct a wall-to-wall bookshelf system with adjustable shelves, desk drawers, and a window seat including a hinged base containing a hidden storage compartment. Not having the expertise to take on a project of this size alone, she sketched her idea on a piece of scrap paper and took it to Closson Lumber, a company that had been in business for nearly a century near downtown.
Ed Closson and his staff helped her to perfect the design, gave her pointers on how best to construct it, advised her on the right type of wood and hardware to incorporate — and even cut every piece of lumber to her exact specifications without additional charge.
The result was spectacular — and with Closson’s help, it was completed before I arrived home a week later.
Fifteen years later, The Home Depot opened a 95,000-square-foot store next to the Logansport Mall. Within two years, Closson’s small lumber company closed its doors after 102 years in business, unable to compete with the giant retailer. In its final days in business, Closson ran an ad in the Pharos-Tribune announcing the company’s liquidation sale — including a reprint of the ad his great-grandfather had placed in the Aug. 16, 1902, edition of the same paper (above) — and thanking his customers for their support.
There is little doubt that the convenience and discount prices of big box stores like Home Depot can rarely be matched by small, local retailers. However, it is equally improbable that Mom could have found the knowledgeable assistance she needed to complete such a complicated project — or a staff with the patience or willingness to invest their time — at a big-box retail outlet.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Pre-Order Countdown: 4 DAYS
There are only four days left in the pre-order period for my book, during which you can order “But Not Forgotten” for 25% off the cover price. So, for the next four days, I’ll post one of my favorite short excerpts from the book!
Today’s excerpt: Mall Rats!
The mall was finished three years before I was born, so any remembrances of shopping or “hanging out” during my youth were centered there and not at the ice-cream parlors, soda fountains, or drive-ins of the previous generation. My interest, of course, fell mainly on the Tee Pee — the video game room where I spent hours playing Dig-Dug, Frogger, Donkey Kong, and — my absolute obsession — Galaga. It was the prime meeting place for my generation. It was lit only by the flicker of video screens. A steady, muddled sound combined the gentle hum of tubes with a cacophony of beeps and buzzes — occasionally punctuated by the crash of a Pole Position car. The air was thick with the overpowering aroma of cigarettes smoked by change attendants in the back office. In the early years of my mall experiences, I’d use the provided stepstools at the arcade to allow me to operate the controls. After sharing a butter-pecan ice-cream cone from Bressler’s 31 Flavors next door, a small pocketful of change from Dad would occupy me long enough for him to dash down to Sears for his weekly supply of Craftsman tools.
That was his only weakness when it came to spending money. He wore garage-sale clothes or shop uniforms the entire time I was growing up — likely the influence of my Mom, whom my friends lovingly referred to as “the Garage Sale Queen.” With the exception of the occasional Christmas or birthday gift, she never wore a thread of new clothing and, until I reached the age of peer-driven self-consciousness, neither did I.
I later realized that their frugality allowed them to put me through college completely on savings, without a single student loan or subsidy.
I, however, did not inherit the thrift gene. As soon as I turned working age, I used every cent of the money I earned at Taco Bell to buy the trappings of 1980s adolescence at the mall: Levi’s acid-washed jeans and denim jackets; hypercolor shirts; Van’s tennis shoes; vinyl LPs, 45s, and 12-inch extended singles; Members Only jackets; and a ridiculous collection of Swatch watches — with the requisite assortment of multicolored scratch guards.
The mall brought teenagers from all walks of life together in one building and promoted consumerism as the essential function of being an American.
- Visit my website to order
- AND, like the But Not Forgotten Facebook page by April 30th for a chance to win a signed copy of the book.
Today’s excerpt: Mall Rats!
The mall was finished three years before I was born, so any remembrances of shopping or “hanging out” during my youth were centered there and not at the ice-cream parlors, soda fountains, or drive-ins of the previous generation. My interest, of course, fell mainly on the Tee Pee — the video game room where I spent hours playing Dig-Dug, Frogger, Donkey Kong, and — my absolute obsession — Galaga. It was the prime meeting place for my generation. It was lit only by the flicker of video screens. A steady, muddled sound combined the gentle hum of tubes with a cacophony of beeps and buzzes — occasionally punctuated by the crash of a Pole Position car. The air was thick with the overpowering aroma of cigarettes smoked by change attendants in the back office. In the early years of my mall experiences, I’d use the provided stepstools at the arcade to allow me to operate the controls. After sharing a butter-pecan ice-cream cone from Bressler’s 31 Flavors next door, a small pocketful of change from Dad would occupy me long enough for him to dash down to Sears for his weekly supply of Craftsman tools.
That was his only weakness when it came to spending money. He wore garage-sale clothes or shop uniforms the entire time I was growing up — likely the influence of my Mom, whom my friends lovingly referred to as “the Garage Sale Queen.” With the exception of the occasional Christmas or birthday gift, she never wore a thread of new clothing and, until I reached the age of peer-driven self-consciousness, neither did I.
I later realized that their frugality allowed them to put me through college completely on savings, without a single student loan or subsidy.
I, however, did not inherit the thrift gene. As soon as I turned working age, I used every cent of the money I earned at Taco Bell to buy the trappings of 1980s adolescence at the mall: Levi’s acid-washed jeans and denim jackets; hypercolor shirts; Van’s tennis shoes; vinyl LPs, 45s, and 12-inch extended singles; Members Only jackets; and a ridiculous collection of Swatch watches — with the requisite assortment of multicolored scratch guards.
The mall brought teenagers from all walks of life together in one building and promoted consumerism as the essential function of being an American.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Pre-Order Countdown: 5 DAYS
There are only five days left in the pre-order period for my book, during which you can order “But Not Forgotten” for 25% off the cover price. So, for the next five days, I’ll post one of my favorite short excerpts from the book!
Here’s today’s excerpt (remembering the Iron Horse Festival):
One of the highlights of summer for us was enjoying a grilled pork chop and corn on the cob at the Iron Horse Festival. Under the shade of huge blue tents, we’d watch the throngs walk the aisles as they played carnival games and bought cheap trinkets, all the while listening to the muddle of music from a half-dozen stages, occasionally drowned out by the impressive whistle atop the festival’s main attraction — the city’s 1920 steam engine.
We were lucky enough to live nearby and avoided the heavy traffic by walking to the Iron Horse — or at least Mom and Dad did. I was just a few weeks away from my ninth birthday, and recall a nighttime piggyback ride on Dad’s back across the Third Street bridge after the Saturday night fireworks — my face sticky from the evening humidity and at least one elephant ear (fried dough dusted with powdered sugar).
We were among the thousands who rode the rails that weekend, and physically felt that massive strength and energy — both of the train itself and the excitement of seeing our downtown bustle.
By the late 1980s, I was old enough to trek to the festival each year on my own. It became a reunion of sorts for schoolmates who hadn’t seen much of each other since classes broke for the summer. It was an escape from home with the other boys, riding our bikes through downtown alleys like pubescent Easy Riders, trailed by the motor-like clatter of playing cards held between spokes by our mothers’ clothespins.
Later, when I was old enough to drive, the festival was the meeting point from which we would embark on nighttime drives on country roads, usually highlighted by a high-speed pass through Devil’s Dip with the headlights out. The prime meeting spot was outside the Jaycees Beer Tent, where we could listen to the sounds of the hottest area cover bands and smell the sweet aroma of forbidden intoxicants.
- Visit my website to order
- AND, like the But Not Forgotten Facebook page by April 30th for a chance to win a signed copy of the book.
Here’s today’s excerpt (remembering the Iron Horse Festival):
One of the highlights of summer for us was enjoying a grilled pork chop and corn on the cob at the Iron Horse Festival. Under the shade of huge blue tents, we’d watch the throngs walk the aisles as they played carnival games and bought cheap trinkets, all the while listening to the muddle of music from a half-dozen stages, occasionally drowned out by the impressive whistle atop the festival’s main attraction — the city’s 1920 steam engine.
We were lucky enough to live nearby and avoided the heavy traffic by walking to the Iron Horse — or at least Mom and Dad did. I was just a few weeks away from my ninth birthday, and recall a nighttime piggyback ride on Dad’s back across the Third Street bridge after the Saturday night fireworks — my face sticky from the evening humidity and at least one elephant ear (fried dough dusted with powdered sugar).
We were among the thousands who rode the rails that weekend, and physically felt that massive strength and energy — both of the train itself and the excitement of seeing our downtown bustle.
By the late 1980s, I was old enough to trek to the festival each year on my own. It became a reunion of sorts for schoolmates who hadn’t seen much of each other since classes broke for the summer. It was an escape from home with the other boys, riding our bikes through downtown alleys like pubescent Easy Riders, trailed by the motor-like clatter of playing cards held between spokes by our mothers’ clothespins.
Later, when I was old enough to drive, the festival was the meeting point from which we would embark on nighttime drives on country roads, usually highlighted by a high-speed pass through Devil’s Dip with the headlights out. The prime meeting spot was outside the Jaycees Beer Tent, where we could listen to the sounds of the hottest area cover bands and smell the sweet aroma of forbidden intoxicants.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Ch-ch-ch-changes
Last night, I sent my publisher the last of the updates for a few of graphics in the book. Since the production schedule has the book going to press in May, I had time to make updates that I thought would have to wait for a second edition.
Now, the graphic that shows American trade deficits is up to date and seasonally adjusted from 1960 all the way to the fourth quarter of 2010.
Also, a graphic that shows the vacancies by storefront and square footage at the Logansport Mall is up to date, adding the recent departures of Arnold’s Jewelry and Gifts and Maurices.
And finally, a three-map graphic that shows the Hispanic population as a percentage of total population for every county in Indiana now includes 1990, 2000, and 2010 census data.
So that should be it! Now I wait for the “soft” proofs from the publisher to arrive so my editors can give it one last round of close scrutiny … then we’re off to press! I can’t wait to actually h0ld this book in my hands and finally see it completed!
Now, the graphic that shows American trade deficits is up to date and seasonally adjusted from 1960 all the way to the fourth quarter of 2010.
Also, a graphic that shows the vacancies by storefront and square footage at the Logansport Mall is up to date, adding the recent departures of Arnold’s Jewelry and Gifts and Maurices.
And finally, a three-map graphic that shows the Hispanic population as a percentage of total population for every county in Indiana now includes 1990, 2000, and 2010 census data.
So that should be it! Now I wait for the “soft” proofs from the publisher to arrive so my editors can give it one last round of close scrutiny … then we’re off to press! I can’t wait to actually h0ld this book in my hands and finally see it completed!
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Back in Philly
It’s nice to be home and relax after the long drive back from Indiana. It was a very productive two weeks (not really a vacation at all). Altogether, I figure I did presentations for about 125 people, most of whom bought books (and many bought multiple copies.
I’ll continue blogging — though less frequently — while I await the printing of the books (sometime in June). And I’ll be planning another trip back to Logansport once the books are available for book signings and launch parties.
So I’m going back to work tomorrow at The Inquirer. But I just wanted to say thanks to a bunch of folks who helped in some way to make the last two weeks a success — hope I don’t forget anyone:
I’ll continue blogging — though less frequently — while I await the printing of the books (sometime in June). And I’ll be planning another trip back to Logansport once the books are available for book signings and launch parties.
So I’m going back to work tomorrow at The Inquirer. But I just wanted to say thanks to a bunch of folks who helped in some way to make the last two weeks a success — hope I don’t forget anyone:
- Of course, my girlfriend Della!
- My Mom, Dixie
- My publisher, M.T. Publishing Company, Inc.
- Thelma Conrad at the Cass County Historical Society
- Stacie & Brad Angle at The People’s Winery
- Sam Piercy for encouragement and the use of his amplifier
- Maria Rogers at Smith Office Plus
- Greg Allen for the great video and use of the projector
- Mercedes Brugh for setting up the radio appearance
- Tom Nelson for the invitation to speak to the Kiwanis Club
- For setting out order forms: Teri Partridge at the Pear Tree Gallery; Judy Masters at Judy’s Good Life Emporium; Teri Hawes at Savanah Vintage; The White House restaurant; and The Nest Gift Shop
- My buddy Dave Wright, who let me borrow his car for the trip, saving me a ton of money
- And, of course, everyone who took the time to come out and see the presentations and talk about Logansport’s history and future!
Friday, April 8, 2011
Recuperation
Last night’s event at the winery went great. Nice crowd of about 20-25. So today is clean up day (returning projectors etc.) followed by a lot of rest to try to kick this cold before the long drive to Philly on Saturday/Sunday.
On the “three legged dog” front: Bo is doing a lot better. He was just out in the yard when a fella with a pit bull walked by. He growled and confronted the pit bull through the fence as if to say “I can kick your ass with three legs, punk.” The pit bull blinked first and went along his merry way!
On the “three legged dog” front: Bo is doing a lot better. He was just out in the yard when a fella with a pit bull walked by. He growled and confronted the pit bull through the fence as if to say “I can kick your ass with three legs, punk.” The pit bull blinked first and went along his merry way!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Over the hump
Feel a little better right now. Hopefully I can get through my last presentation without losing my voice.
So today I went with a friend to his hometown of Hartford City, Ind., a town that boomed with the discovery of natural gas at the turn of the last century, then fell on very hard times once the wells went dry.
We ate a Pizza King, which features an old-timey setup where you sit down at a table and call in your order via a phone right at your booth. Kinda of strange when you are the only people in the place, but quirky and fun none the less.
Back to Logansport in the morning to set up for the last presentation at the Winery. Hope to see some of you there!
Here’s a pic of the Pizza King phone system ... check out the name!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
So today I went with a friend to his hometown of Hartford City, Ind., a town that boomed with the discovery of natural gas at the turn of the last century, then fell on very hard times once the wells went dry.
We ate a Pizza King, which features an old-timey setup where you sit down at a table and call in your order via a phone right at your booth. Kinda of strange when you are the only people in the place, but quirky and fun none the less.
Back to Logansport in the morning to set up for the last presentation at the Winery. Hope to see some of you there!
Here’s a pic of the Pizza King phone system ... check out the name!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Hump Day: Sick Day
So I finally got my Indiana cold. I get one every time I come back, but I thought I dodged the bullet this time. But the show must go on. My last presentation is at the Peoples Winery on Thursday at 7 p.m., so I’ll be resting up today so I can get through it.
The video that Greg Allen did about “But Not Forgotten” turned out quite well. You can see it here.
And, I’m working on getting a recording of my interview online from the WSAL 1230 AM morning show, “Talk of the Town,” so I can post it for your listening pleasure! Special thanks to Mercedes Brugh for setting up the radio spot.
Yesterday’s presentation at the noon Kiwanis Club went very well too. Got to meet the police chief and new fire captain. Special thanks to Tom Nelson for inviting me. It was held at another great historic venue, now called “Boondockers,” which sits near the confluence of the two rivers that made Logansport so attractive to early settlers. It’s also attached to another historic Logansport structure: The former shop where ReVere motor cars where built between 1917 and 1926. Only five of the estimated 2,600 ReVeres are known to still exist — one is located at the Logansport Mall and is owned and maintained by the Cass County Historical Society.
The video that Greg Allen did about “But Not Forgotten” turned out quite well. You can see it here.
And, I’m working on getting a recording of my interview online from the WSAL 1230 AM morning show, “Talk of the Town,” so I can post it for your listening pleasure! Special thanks to Mercedes Brugh for setting up the radio spot.
Yesterday’s presentation at the noon Kiwanis Club went very well too. Got to meet the police chief and new fire captain. Special thanks to Tom Nelson for inviting me. It was held at another great historic venue, now called “Boondockers,” which sits near the confluence of the two rivers that made Logansport so attractive to early settlers. It’s also attached to another historic Logansport structure: The former shop where ReVere motor cars where built between 1917 and 1926. Only five of the estimated 2,600 ReVeres are known to still exist — one is located at the Logansport Mall and is owned and maintained by the Cass County Historical Society.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
AM Radio
I’m usually only awake at 7:30 if it was a late night the night before! I watched the Butler game last night at the Peoples Winery and got to sleep at about 1 a.m.
Just had a fresh-squeezed OJ and I’m about to head out for the radio station. I’ll be on “Talk of the Town” at 8:30 to promote the book (WSAL 1230). Then I’ll be speaking to the noon Kiwanis Club (if my voice holds up ... starting to get a cold).
Very nice sunrise from Mom’s backyard!
Just had a fresh-squeezed OJ and I’m about to head out for the radio station. I’ll be on “Talk of the Town” at 8:30 to promote the book (WSAL 1230). Then I’ll be speaking to the noon Kiwanis Club (if my voice holds up ... starting to get a cold).
Very nice sunrise from Mom’s backyard!
Monday, April 4, 2011
The Three-Legged Dog and Rush Limbaugh
Had a nice time with Della’s family last night in Kokomo. Today, my mom’s 8 1/2-year-old yellow Lab, Bo, comes home from Purdue University where he had his front right leg amputated because of bone cancer. They say he’s up and walking around, but it might take some time for him to get his mobility back (he’s about 85 pounds, so balance could be an issue until he gets used to life on three legs). Hopefully, he’ll have several more good years ahead of him.
I’ll be watching the Butler game with friends at the People’s Winery tonight, then I have to get up for my radio interview at 8:30 a.m. on WSAL 1230 AM — “Indiana’s Best Radio.” Fortunately, the Dave Ramsey Show will serve as a nice three-hour buffer between me and Rush Limbaugh. It’s a close call to decide which I dislike more: Bone cancer striking a beloved family pet, or Rush Limbaugh…
I’ll be watching the Butler game with friends at the People’s Winery tonight, then I have to get up for my radio interview at 8:30 a.m. on WSAL 1230 AM — “Indiana’s Best Radio.” Fortunately, the Dave Ramsey Show will serve as a nice three-hour buffer between me and Rush Limbaugh. It’s a close call to decide which I dislike more: Bone cancer striking a beloved family pet, or Rush Limbaugh…
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Video Shoot
So today, local videographer Greg Allen shot a short piece on my book which will be edited and posted online soon! We shot it at The People’s Winery this afternoon.
I also got a chance to stop by Jason’s House of Trains, one of three locally owned businesses now operating out of five historic buildings that were saved and restored in downtown Logansport. Got a chance to talk to an old friend, Mike Allen, who I haven’t seen in over 20 years.
I also had a nice visit with my middle school art teacher, Teri Partridge, who now owns the Pear Tree Gallery (get it: Partridge … Pear tree). If you haven’t already, you’ve got to check out her place at the corner of 4th and Market.
So tonight, it’s family night in Logansport. Tomorrow, it’s family day in Kokomo. I’ll sign off from the blog for the weekend…so as to focus my time on living breathing loved ones!
I also got a chance to stop by Jason’s House of Trains, one of three locally owned businesses now operating out of five historic buildings that were saved and restored in downtown Logansport. Got a chance to talk to an old friend, Mike Allen, who I haven’t seen in over 20 years.
I also had a nice visit with my middle school art teacher, Teri Partridge, who now owns the Pear Tree Gallery (get it: Partridge … Pear tree). If you haven’t already, you’ve got to check out her place at the corner of 4th and Market.
So tonight, it’s family night in Logansport. Tomorrow, it’s family day in Kokomo. I’ll sign off from the blog for the weekend…so as to focus my time on living breathing loved ones!
Friday, April 1, 2011
Indiana Weather & Chinese Food
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| CHINA LANE: House Egg Foo Young |
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| CHINA LANE: Chicken Lo Mein with brown sauce |
Had lunch at the BEST Chinese restaurant I have ever eaten at right here in Logansport: China Lane! It’s been here since I can remember (at least 30 years).
Tomorrow, I’ll be shooting a short video piece about the book at the Winery. If it turns out the way I hope, I’ll post a link to it here. If not, I will try to find and destroy all copies!
On the video and Tuesday’s radio appearance on “Talk of the Town,” I will also address a concern that’s begun to spread among a small number of folks who have not seen the presentation or read the book: That I am basically using this book to bash Logansport. COMPLETELY untrue. The fact is, Logansport has had its share of highs and lows over the decades, and I don’t shy away from giving an honest assessment of those events, warts and all (including racial struggles, economic downturns, the neglect of the downtown area for decades, the vacancy issues at the Mall, etc.).
But far from bashing the community, the book is really a personal journey of rediscovery that leads me back home to find a community that is focusing more than ever on historic preservation and improving the quality of life for its citizens. Even the curator of the historical society, Thelma Conrad, said in her review of the book that my feelings about Logansport amount to “the best love story I have read in a long time.”
So hopefully I can use these outlets to set the record straight. In the end, some folks will believe what they want, and that’s fine too. As long as they buy the book before they burn it!
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Presentation 2
The second presentation for the book (this time at the Library) was a little lighter on attendance, but mom got to be there. I also got to meet with a representative from my publishing company who said that the phone has been ringing off the hook for pre-orders since the story in the paper and the event at the Winery (apparently one of the busiest pre-order periods they’ve ever seen this far from the deadline, which is still another month away).
I now have two more events scheduled while I’m here (both by request): Tuesday, I will be on the morning radio show “Talk of the Town” at 8:30 a.m. (ugh, that’s insanely early for me). And then at noon I will do a presentation for the Kiwanis club!
Also, on Saturday I will be filming a short web video documentary about the book with local videographer Greg Allen. Should be fun!
I now have two more events scheduled while I’m here (both by request): Tuesday, I will be on the morning radio show “Talk of the Town” at 8:30 a.m. (ugh, that’s insanely early for me). And then at noon I will do a presentation for the Kiwanis club!
Also, on Saturday I will be filming a short web video documentary about the book with local videographer Greg Allen. Should be fun!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
What a blast!
www.butnotforgottenbook.com
I was expecting about 25 people to be in attendance for tonight’s presentation on the book at the People’s Winery. But we ended up with a standing-room only crowd of about 40!
After calming my nerves a bit with a couple glasses of wine, the presentation went really well. The crowd really responded with a lot of enthusiasm. Afterward, I signed cards for folks to insert into the books they plan to order in advance, and others said they would wait until I come back for a book release party once the books are printed and distributed.
Bridgewater Catering’s Kado Downs came through on short notice with a beautiful selection of meats, cheeses, fruits, and desserts. I spent about an hour after the presentation talking with a number of local historians and dignitaries (including Logansport mayor Mike Fincher).
Also, it looks like I might do doing the local radio show, “Talk of the Town,” Thursday morning (more details to come on that once I work out the details).
And for an added bonus of coincidence: I was talking to a couple just before starting the presentation who had made the 30-minute drive from Kokomo just for the event. Turns out, the man was my girlfriend Della’s English literature teacher in High School in Kokomo, who just happened to be married to a Logansport native and the two are members of the Historical Society!
I'm pretty much exhausted and looking forward to tomorrow when I have no events planned so I can just be lazy. The next presentation is Thursday at the Library, so we’ll see how it goes when I’m completely stone sober!
I was expecting about 25 people to be in attendance for tonight’s presentation on the book at the People’s Winery. But we ended up with a standing-room only crowd of about 40!
After calming my nerves a bit with a couple glasses of wine, the presentation went really well. The crowd really responded with a lot of enthusiasm. Afterward, I signed cards for folks to insert into the books they plan to order in advance, and others said they would wait until I come back for a book release party once the books are printed and distributed.
Bridgewater Catering’s Kado Downs came through on short notice with a beautiful selection of meats, cheeses, fruits, and desserts. I spent about an hour after the presentation talking with a number of local historians and dignitaries (including Logansport mayor Mike Fincher).
Also, it looks like I might do doing the local radio show, “Talk of the Town,” Thursday morning (more details to come on that once I work out the details).
And for an added bonus of coincidence: I was talking to a couple just before starting the presentation who had made the 30-minute drive from Kokomo just for the event. Turns out, the man was my girlfriend Della’s English literature teacher in High School in Kokomo, who just happened to be married to a Logansport native and the two are members of the Historical Society!
I'm pretty much exhausted and looking forward to tomorrow when I have no events planned so I can just be lazy. The next presentation is Thursday at the Library, so we’ll see how it goes when I’m completely stone sober!
Monday, March 28, 2011
Day Two: Last preparations
Things are just about ready for Tuesday night’s presentation at The People’s Winery: the slideshow is ready; all of the technology is in place (projector, audio, etc.); and, most importantly, the wine is purchased and ready for consumption!
I got to sample the various wines that are made right on the premises, and I have to say, they are outstanding! And the place is absolutely beautiful!
I also ate at my favorite burger joint, Mr. Happy Burger, today. I had my traditional tenderloin deluxe with a side of french fries and tarter sauce — and probably the best Coke I have ever had (owner Bob Shanks allegedly taste tests the mix every couple days to ensure that it has just the right balance of syrup and carbonation — take that McDonalds!). I would have posted a picture, but I devoured it before I even had time to think about pulling out my camera!
I got to sample the various wines that are made right on the premises, and I have to say, they are outstanding! And the place is absolutely beautiful!
I also ate at my favorite burger joint, Mr. Happy Burger, today. I had my traditional tenderloin deluxe with a side of french fries and tarter sauce — and probably the best Coke I have ever had (owner Bob Shanks allegedly taste tests the mix every couple days to ensure that it has just the right balance of syrup and carbonation — take that McDonalds!). I would have posted a picture, but I devoured it before I even had time to think about pulling out my camera!
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Day One in Logansport
Della and I met friends Adam and Maria Rogers at the Little Turtle Waterway (a public park downtown) and witnessed a balloon release by parents of children who have passed away at an early age. It was so touching to see the camaraderie of these folks who come together to share their stories or perseverance and help each other deal with these tragic passings. It was great to see such a turnout, but sad at the same time that there are so many young families in the community that have been forced to cope with such a painful loss.
On a happier note, we had our first meal from a great local restaurant this afternoon — B&K West root beer and hot dogs, complete with car-hop service. Della loves onions, and she’s always asking for extras at other restaurants. But not at B&K … they really know how to load up theirs dogs — and their “spanish sauce,” (a.k.a. chili for you East-Coasters) is awesome!
On a happier note, we had our first meal from a great local restaurant this afternoon — B&K West root beer and hot dogs, complete with car-hop service. Della loves onions, and she’s always asking for extras at other restaurants. But not at B&K … they really know how to load up theirs dogs — and their “spanish sauce,” (a.k.a. chili for you East-Coasters) is awesome!
Front Page News
Two Advil and a glass of Mountain Dew for breakfast! That drive from Philly to Logansport gets longer every year — or maybe I’m just getting older.
So I woke up to see that I made the front page of the local newspaper, the Pharos-Tribune, but Butler’s advancement to the Final Four did not! A nice write-up about my book, complete with the schedule of the events I have planned for the next two weeks and the links to where you can pre-order the book: www.butnotforgottenbook.com
See the story from the Pharos-Tribune here:
http://goo.gl/x8gAx
So I woke up to see that I made the front page of the local newspaper, the Pharos-Tribune, but Butler’s advancement to the Final Four did not! A nice write-up about my book, complete with the schedule of the events I have planned for the next two weeks and the links to where you can pre-order the book: www.butnotforgottenbook.com
See the story from the Pharos-Tribune here:
http://goo.gl/x8gAx
Saturday, March 26, 2011
We’ll be heading out for Logansport in just a few minutes. Technology is great and all, but I remember a time when I could just pack a bag and walk out the door. Now I have to gather up all of the essentials of travel in the digital age — the adapters and attachments for the MacBook, iPad, iPods, and two iPhones. I’m glad I’m not trying to get through airport security with all of this electronic stuff!
Friday, March 25, 2011
Final Preparations
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| The giant cow outside Mr. Happy Burger West |
Since I started writing my book and took a real interest in the plight of small business owners — who are struggling to compete in a world dominated by chains and big box stores — I have religiously made it a point to ONLY shop and dine at locally owned establishments while in Logansport. If I could buy gas at an old independent filling station (like I could when I was in high school), I would do that too. I’m proud to say that I have not purchased a thing from Walmart in over three years.
I’m so looking forward to a chocolate malt from Sycamore Drive In, a spanish hot dog from B&K, a grinder from Boardwalk Cafe, french fries and tartar sauce from Hap’s, and the absolute BEST chinese food I have ever had (and I live two blocks from Chinatown in Philly) at China Lane (also a favorite of Della’s).
Watch for updates from the road and my blogs about the book tour, experiences and encounters along the way, and my sampling of the finest cuisine Logansport has to offer.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
The Presentation
I finally have the presentation done for the three events I’ll be doing in Logansport over the next two weeks. Now all I have to do is rehearse it with the slides. I’m fortunate to have my girlfriend Della helping out, who still remembers shorthand and took notes while I was talking it through. And Evernote, which will allow me to access my notes wherever I am so I can rehearse anywhere, anytime using my computer, laptop, iPad, or iPhone. Ah, technology!
Now, as long as the bulb doesn’t burn out in the projector, I should be good to go!
Now, as long as the bulb doesn’t burn out in the projector, I should be good to go!
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
The Other Side of the Conversation
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| Restored stained-glass skylight at the Logansport City Building. Photo by KEVIN BURKETT |
There will be a story in Logansport’s Pharos-Tribune (probably in Sunday’s edition) about the book and the upcoming events I have scheduled back home over the next two weeks to promote “But Not Forgotten.”
As we ended our conversion, I told the reporter, Denise Massie, that “I’m much better at asking questions than answering them,” then directed her to the book’s website to fill in the gaps where I uhmed and hmmed. She was quite understanding…
Saturday’s departure for Logansport is coming up pretty quickly. I have business cards in hand, signature cards ready, the slideshow completed, and, thanks to good friend Maria Rogers, posters are up in Logansport and I have a digital projector setup and ready to go.
Now I just have to get past my anxiety over public speaking and rehearse the presentation…I’m sure the wine will help!
Monday, March 21, 2011
My first (mini) book tour
It’s been a long three-year journey, but it finally feels like all of that work is coming to fruition. On Saturday, I will be making my first trip back to Logansport since having the book picked up by M.T. Publishing.
I’ll be doing a number of presentations to promote the book, but also to help a new startup business in Logansport — The People’s Winery — get off to a running start. I’ll also be using this as an opportunity to promote the excellent Cass County Historical Society, which is desperately in need of funding.
It should be an interesting two-week trip, and I’m really looking forward to getting feedback from the folks back home on the book. I’ll be writing about the trip and the experience here, so check back soon. In the meantime, you can read more about the book, find excerpts, and pre-order the book at my website:
butnotforgottenbook
Or my publisher’s site:
mtpublishing
…Maybe I’ll see you next week in Logansport!
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