Food for Stories

by Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

Josie family album

Food can lead to a bountiful banquet of stories.

Not long ago, I enjoyed a week-long visit with an old friend to celebrate her 96th birthday. Josie is Greek and has a well-deserved reputation as a legendary cook. She makes the best baklava I’ve ever tasted. Phyllo, melted butter, honey, cinnamon, phyllo, more butter, chopped nuts, more butter. Layer after layer of pure heaven.

Years ago, one of my relatives was getting married and asked Josie to make Greek food for the wedding. Apprentice volunteers (including myself) spent the weekend in her kitchen and dining room, under the gentle but exacting guidance of our revered goddess of Greek cooking.

Josie showed us how layer baklava and how to stuff grape leaves (dolmades) along with sharing her secret marinating tricks for roast leg of lamb (slivers of garlic embedded all over the meat along with spices and olive oil).

Spanakopita – Photo credit: terri_bateman, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

The most labor-intensive dish was spanakopita. Phyllo dough is filled with cheese, spinach, and egg then folded flag-style into triangular pastries, brushed with melted butter, and baked. Each one takes about five minutes to carefully fold, but only five seconds to melt in your mouth.

Phyllo is more delicate than 3000-year-old parchment scrolls. When the tissue-thin dough tore as I handled it, that ruined the perfect appearance required for the fancy party. Of course, I had to eat my mistakes and, wow, did I goof up a lot!

The Greek food at the wedding was a huge hit. Prior to this cooking marathon, Josie and I had been friends, but that weekend sealed our close bond forever.

During my recent visit for Josie’s birthday, we went through her dresser drawerful of old recipes. Some were in cookbooks with many margin notes added in ink; others were on paper or index cards in her neat, careful handwriting. The pages were stained with butter, olive oil, chocolate, and other evidence of intense use.

Josie’s family album. She is the girl on the right.

I learned her mother was a first-generation immigrant from the island of Patmos who didn’t know how to read or write. She was a wonderful cook but never used measuring cups or spoons. Memorializing her mother’s recipes in writing took considerable time, experimentation, and guesswork. The effort was worth it.

Fascinating historical tidbits came out in our conversations over the recipes. “During wartime, when there was no food, Greeks didn’t starve like other countries because they ate greens. They went out in the country and picked wild greens. And that kept them from starving.”

Josie recalled picking dandelions to eat in the spring when she was a child. “I wasn’t crazy about them, but my mother insisted.”

Josie’s family as adults

Her family consisted of five boisterous boys and two girls. “Growing up with five brothers, I learned to hold my own. I wasn’t easily intimidated.”

Seven kids kept their parents busy trying to feed them during Prohibition and the Depression. Her father, whom she called the “original Nick the Greek,” made ouzo in a still in their basement.

Josie’s dad, Nick the Greek

Nick was an early pioneer of route sales. Every day, he walked around their neighborhood, pushing Josie in a baby carriage. He stopped to chat with friends who admired Nick’s adorable toddler in the carriage. After a few minutes of visiting, each walked away with a bottle of ouzo that had been hidden in her blankets.

She also recalled men coming to their house in the middle of the night. Nick always welcomed them. They joked and chatted for a while, then left.

“Why do those men come here so late?” Josie asked her mother.

“Never mind, they’re just visiting.”

She later figured out they were Nick’s satisfied midnight customers.

When she taught her father how to sign his name, he was very proud of that accomplishment.

Josie caught a fish for dinner

Josie high school graduation photo 1945

Our conversation turned to her early jobs. At 18, she moved from Pennsylvania to Brooklyn. There, she managed a coffee store on Smith Street near Flatbush Avenue. The owner liked her because her accounts always balanced to the penny…except for one problem customer.

A man came in every morning and stole a newspaper. He was a big guy and evidently hid the paper under his arm. She could never catch him in the act, but she knew his habits. After stealing the paper, he would walk around the corner and have breakfast at a cafe.

Flatbush Avenue
Photo credit: Wikimedia.com

One day, she followed him to the cafe and sat down at the counter on the stool beside him. While waiting for their breakfast orders, she engaged him in friendly conversation. She kept pleasantly chatting as he grew visibly more nervous. Finally, she said, “You know, it’s hard for small businesses to survive. Even losing a single newspaper makes a difference.”

“All right! All right! I did it!” the man blurted out. “I’ll pay!”

Her gentle, non-accusatory appeal to his conscience worked. From that day forward, he always paid.

The young woman working alone in a store could have made a tempting target. But Josie received protection from two unlikely bodyguards.

Lou was a burly Italian bookie operating in the neighborhood who made sure no one bothered her. Once, she fell seriously ill with the flu. Lou took her home to his apartment where his wife nursed her back to health with homemade soup. She slept on their couch until she recovered and was forever grateful for their kindness.

The second bodyguard was a so-called “hobo” who met her bus every morning and walked her to the coffee store. Each night, he walked her from the store to the bus stop. “You don’t need to do this,” she told him. He just smiled and continued to escort her.

One night, he was murdered—knifed in a doorway. When she learned about his death, she was heartbroken. “He was so nice to me and never expected anything in return.”

Another early job was in a mill on the Ohio River. The factory made plating to line soup cans. She worked in the lab, testing tin samples because different soup ingredients required different formulations of tin. Inspectors visited often to check compliance for food safety. Before hearing her story, I thought a soup can was simply a soup can.

Josie’s siblings and in-laws

Here’s a festive meal with Josie’s siblings and in-laws. She’s not in the photo perhaps because she was in the kitchen, refilling platters with more goodies.

Starting with recipes, Josie took me on a week-long journey into the past.

Recipes are like old family Bibles and photo albums, rich with history and memories. I learned fascinating facts and anecdotes that never make it into history books. Yet such rich details add texture, color, and verisimilitude to stories about bygone days. Josie’s stories gave me the itch to dive into historical fiction.

I visited for her birthday but I’m the one who left with a precious gift.

~~~

TKZers: Do you have written family histories, or recordings of oral histories?

Do people and stories from the past inspire your work?

What is your favorite source for historical details?

~~~

 

Ninety-six-year-old Josie is a fan of the Tawny Lindholm Thriller series but has one criticism: “Honey, I wish you’d add a little more sex!” 

I’ll take your suggestion to heart, Josie! 

World’s First Free Public Library Supported by Taxation

By Sue Coletta

Photo credit: http://www.libraryhistorybuff.com/

Our local TV station runs a short segment during WMUR’s Chronicle with Fritz Wetherbee, an old-timer who’s a brilliant historian. Every night Fritz shares fascinating stories about New Hampshire. I love learning about the statues, landmarks, buildings, rivers and lakes in my state.

The other night he shared a story about a Unitarian minister who founded the world’s first free public library supported by taxation.

Literary-minded Reverend Abiel Abbot (December 14, 1765 – January 31, 1859) moved from Wilton, NH to Peterborough, NH in 1827 and immediately set up a youth library in his home. He also founded the Peterborough Library Company, supported by membership dues. In proposing the creation of the town library, he described “a central collection of books that would be owned by the people and free to all of those that lived in the town.”

The library website offers the following…

“Inspired by the result, the New Hampshire State Legislature passed a law authorizing towns across the state to raise money for libraries in 1849. Britain wouldn’t pass its Public Libraries Act until 1850, and America’s first large public library—the Boston Public Library—was founded in 1852.”

Photo credit: http://www.libraryhistorybuff.com/

During a town meeting at Peterborough in 1833, Abbot proposed that a portion of the State Literary Fund be used for the purchase of books to establish a library, free to all the citizens of the town. Books purchased by Reverend Abbot and a board of trustees were made available for public use.

Reverend Abbot housed the original Peterborough Town Library in a general store that doubled as the post office, with the postmaster acting as librarian until 1854. After a short stint at town hall, a permanent home was finally built in 1893 to house a book collection that had grown into the thousands.

In a thesis published in 1947, Sidney Ditzion commented on the Peterborough Public Library.

“The account of the establishment of a town library at Peterborough, New Hampshire, is unique in that here we have an instance of what appears to be the spontaneous generation of an entirely new form.  Here, without the stimulus of private donation, without the permission of state legislation, without the semblance of a model in the mother country, a tax-supported town library was born.

The circumstances surrounding the creation of this institution raise an interesting historical question involving local circumstance and group motivation to which no answer has yet been offered.  In January of 1833 a group of farmers and small manufacturers under the leadership of the Rev. Abiel Abbot formed a social library whose shares sold at two dollars and whose annual membership fee was fifty cents. 

On April 9 of the same year the town, apparently under the inspiration of the same Rev. Abbot voted to set aside for the purchase of books a portion of the state bank tax which was distributed among New Hampshire towns for library purposes.  This was the way the first American town library to be continuously supported over a period of years was begun.”

Reverend Abbot founded several other libraries, too, including the Juvenile Library and the Library Company of Peterborough. In 1965, on the bicentennial of Abbot’s birth, New Hampshire State Legislature passed a resolution to recognize Abbot’s role in founding the “first free public library in the world supported by taxation.” This resolution also requested that the President of the United States and the Postmaster General issue a postage stamp to commemorate the bicentennial of Abbot’s birth.

Today, Peterborough Public Library remains the oldest public library in the world. Pretty cool, eh?

For discussion, please share one historical fact about your town or state. Does your local news have a guy like Fritz Wetherbee? The name kills me. He looks exactly how you picture him.

Quick update to my previous post: I’m still keeping the raven alive 19 long, emotional days, but it’ll be worth it if she flies again. One day I couldn’t find her, and I thought for sure a night predator found her. The next day, she strutted back into the yard for breakfast. What a will to live! Here’s a quick video of Rave chowing down. See the wing?

More later. I’m hoping this story has a happy ending.

Happy 100th Birthday

by Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

One hundred years ago today, my father-in-law, Arthur Burke, was born.

I’ve been kicking around the idea of writing historical fiction. Arthur’s life contains a wealth of dramatic raw material on which a novel could be based. My imagination itches to step back in time and write about that era.

Grinding poverty defined Arthur’s childhood. His father, Daniel, was a violent Irish drunkard. Periodically, he would abscond with Arthur and his brother, then leave them in Catholic orphanages in various states. Their mother, Naomi, had to track down and recover her two young sons.

Daniel Burke with his sons and second wife

Naomi

Naomi’s death in 1978 opened up a mystery. Among her papers, my husband and I found three different birth certificates in three different names with three different birth dates. The woman we’d known as “Naomi” had hidden lives.

 

Today, identities are indelibly recorded in databases. Not so in the late 1800s and early 1900s, when adopting a new name was common practice for people who wanted to leave problems behind. Reinventing one’s identity was as simple as providing a handwritten statement signed by a relative or friend. One of Naomi’s birth certificates was a sworn statement by an uncle, dated years after her supposed birth date.

On another certificate, her name was Ida Mae Dalton, listing her father as Frank Dalton, a deputy marshal related to the notorious Dalton Gang. In a sad reflection of that era, Ida Mae’s mother was not even given the respect of a name on that document but was identified only as “an Indian squaw or breed thereof.”

Who was Naomi really? Did she adopt aliases to hide from the abusive Daniel? Questions linger that can never be answered. 

Naomi worked as a waitress to support the family. They were already poor enough that they hardly noticed the Great Depression. For heat, Arthur scavenged bits of coal that fell from train cars. He told about being so hungry, he ate grass.

In 1933, his life took a turn for the better when Naomi married Leonard Bloodsworth, a Navy chief who was the Pacific Fleet heavyweight boxing champion. Daniel no longer represented a threat since Len could knock the brutal father into next week.

But growing up in San Pedro, California during the Depression was still difficult.

Stepfather Len became Arthur’s best role model and champion. He would sneak the hungry boy onto his ship for chow. Thanks to Len, Arthur saw a doctor and dentist for the first time in his life.

The gangly, red-headed, freckle-faced Arthur had a brush with Hollywood when he appeared in the pilot film for a short comedy. He played a character named Alfalfa in the Little Rascals and was paid 50 cents, a fortune to a poor Bowery kid. What a different direction his life might have taken if another boy, Carl Switzer, hadn’t wound up playing the memorable, enduring role.

~~~

In high school, Arthur showed extraordinary inventiveness when he built a radar set for a science project. The FBI confiscated the set because the U.S. would soon be involved in World War II and wanted to keep advanced experimental technology a secret from enemy powers.

Despite Arthur’s genius, college seemed an unattainable dream because of poverty.

Then came a stroke of luck.

Appointments to prestigious military academies like West Point and Annapolis were granted by members of Congress, usually as political favors to wealthy constituents. However, one honest politician opened the opportunity to competitive exam, allowing any young man in his district to apply.  

On a lark, Arthur accompanied a friend to take the exam for the Naval Academy. His friend was accepted and Arthur made the cut as an alternate. When his buddy had to withdraw, Arthur took his slot.

After a cross-country train trip, he reported for duty in Annapolis, Maryland with cardboard liners as soles for his worn-out shoes. His classmates, mostly sons of wealthy, influential families, looked down their patrician noses at the lanky, malnourished kid from the Bowery.

Nevertheless, his scientific brilliance earned him a place in the top 10% of his class.

The attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941 forced the U.S. into World War II and, only days afterward, led to early graduation for Arthur’s Class of 1942.

Arthur Burke and stepfather Leonard Bloodsworth

During that devastating attack, his stepfather Len was serving aboard the USS Tennessee. Eight battleships, including the Tennessee, were moored together in a group on Battleship Row in Pearl Harbor. Japanese bombs and torpedoes destroyed or disabled the most powerful ships in the U.S. fleet.

Battleship Row

As injured shipmates were pulled from fires below decks, Len threw sailors over the side of the ship into the water to save them from the onboard inferno. When the nearby Arizona exploded, searing powder and shrapnel horribly burned Len’s back. He spent a year in a hospital before returning to duty to finish out the war.

The Pearl Harbor attack left the U.S. badly outnumbered and outgunned. A battered handful of surviving ships, including the aircraft carrier USS Enterprise CV-6, represented the only defense against the advancing Japanese fleet and probable invasion of the U.S. west coast.

Arthur served on the Enterprise which became the most decorated ship of World War II.

Painting of USS Enterprise by Richard DeRosset

Painting of USS Enterprise by Richard DeRosset

He described the feeling of being totally alone, desperate, and vulnerable in the vast Pacific Ocean while being hunted by the enemy. Before radar and other detection systems were commonplace, ships operated under strict blackout rules because the tiniest light could reveal the ship’s position to a patrolling submarine or plane.

One night while on watch, Arthur had a run-in with an admiral who decided to fire up his pipe on the flag bridge, a place of high visibility on the carrier. Arthur was a lowly lieutenant junior grade but he took his responsibility seriously. He told the admiral to put out the light because it was endangering the ship. The admiral refused. Arthur stood his ground and ordered the superior officer to his quarters. Fortunately the enemy didn’t spot the light.

The petty admiral never forgot and the episode dogged the rest of Arthur’s naval career, despite his stellar scientific achievements.

Arthur survived the pivotal battles of Midway and Coral Sea. During one attack, a bomb exploded in his quarters. Because he had traded duty stations with another officer, he was not in his bunk at that time and escaped death.

But, in the confusion, he was mistakenly listed as killed in action and his footlocker was shipped home. Naomi, who supported the war effort as an air raid warden, endured many grief-stricken months before she learned her son was still alive.

Arthur rose quickly through the ranks because of his scientific ability. He developed instrumental new uses for radar that played a major role in Allied victory.

Later, he returned to Annapolis to teach—not a bad achievement for a hungry kid who arrived on the Naval Academy campus with cardboard soles in his shoes.

Will Arthur’s experiences become my first historical novel? Time will tell. 

Meanwhile, Happy 100th Birthday, Pop!

~~~

TKZers: What books based on real-life experiences had a big impact on you?

Have family stories inspired your own writing?

SATURDAY EVENING POST – 200 Years of American History

by Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

When I was a tot in the 1950s, my grandmother lived with us. She smoked Raleigh cigarettes and saved the coupons in her top dresser drawer.

Raleigh cigarette coupons could be redeemed for gifts, keeping smokers loyal and addicted.

The scent of tobacco and Yardley’s English Lavender mingled in a rustic perfume that belonged uniquely to her.

Looking back, I realize how much she influenced me to become a writer. In her clipped British accent, she read Mary Poppins and Dr. Doolitle to me, awakening a love of books. She introduced me to the romance of storytelling as she related her own exciting teenage adventures, like the time she stole a boat and sailed from England to Spain

She also subscribed to the Saturday Evening Post, which she used to teach me to read.

Each week when the magazine arrived by mail, we’d sit in her bedroom and giggle over the cartoons. Hazel was my favorite and became the basis for a popular 1960s TV sit-com starring Shirley Booth as the wise-cracking maid who was smarter than her bosses.

Today, the Saturday Evening Post has endured when most print magazines have disappeared.

Recently the Post unveiled their new website that includes every issue all the way back to 1821. The task of scanning and digitizing tens of thousands of pages took nine years.

For $15/year, subscribers receive six current issues plus access to nearly two hundred years of history. I just subscribed as a fond trip down memory lane because of my grandmother.

However, the deeper I delved into the Post’s archives, the more I realized what a valuable resource this could be for writers of historical fiction. Nearly two hundred years of American life are collected in one convenient location. I soon got lost in bygone eras.

Below are a few ideas how the Post archives can enliven your historical fiction:

Language: Reading prose written during your chosen era helps you better capture the particular phrasing, jargon, and speech rhythms of the time.

In an example from 1821, a fanciful story features a talking mirror warning readers about vanity with this snippet of dialogue:

“How many charming creatures have I spoiled, and made beauty the greatest misfortune that could befal [sic] them! . . . Alas, why was I made a Looking glass?”

Contrast that flowery style with the terse dialogue from Alastair MacLean’s 1960 short story, Night Without End:

“From now on, Zagero, you and Levin ride with a gun trained on you!” Mason snapped.

Setting details: Illustrations for architecture, building styles, and period home furnishings add authenticity to your story world.

Creative Commons

 

I was drawn to advertisements for home appliances from the 1950s, recalling brands like Kelvinator and Hotpoint, and refrigerators in a choice of colors like pink and turquoise.

 

 

Employment: In the 1910s and ’20s, many ads featured motor oil, tires, and batteries, reflecting industrialization as society changed from carriages to automobiles. A character living in Ohio then might work at the Timken Roller Bearing Company in Canton or manufacture Grande Cord tires at the Republic Rubber Corporation in Youngstown.

Styles: Fashion illustrations in the Post showcase clothing, shoes, and hairstyles of each era. In 1927, a female character might straighten the seam lines on her Realsilk hosiery while her husband shines his stylish Selz shoes.

1929 Ford 5AT Tri-Motor N9651-Wikimedia Commons

Transportation: In the span of two hundred years, horse-drawn carriages and stagecoaches were replaced by trains and steamships which gave way to airlines like Pan American and Trans World Airways. Automobile ads from the early twentieth century feature now-forgotten brands your characters might drive, like Hupmobile, DeSoto, and LaSalle. Or they might fly on a Ford Tri-Motor.

Health/Medical: In the 1960s, ads for Chesterfield, Pall Mall, and Viceroy played counterpoint to feature articles like “Crash Effort for a Safer Cigarette” from April, 1964. By the 1990s, the Post’s focus had shifted to breakthrough medical developments, with nary a cigarette ad to be found.

Warning: resist the temptation to pack in too many details simply because you don’t want to waste the research. Use only as many as are needed to capture the flavor of the era.

Perspective: By reading Post issues prior to a major historical event, the author can find insights into what precipitated the event.

I found one example in a cautionary article from 1900 by a young member of the British Parliament named Winston Churchill. He warned that a complacent citizenry and a weak, underfunded military could lead to future conflicts. His predictions came true in 1914 with the Great War. By 1940, he became Prime Minister and led the Allies against the Axis in World War II.

Political Issues: Letters to the editor illustrate why people believed and thought the way they did at the time. They voiced opinions based on how certain topics affected them that day, without knowing what was in store in the future. Articles, bios, and op-eds from the Post can lend authenticity to the attitudes of your characters during a given period.

For instance, in early 1960, the Post interviewed then-candidate John F. Kennedy. At the time, Pope John XXIII mandated a total ban on birth control. When JFK, a Catholic, was asked about his position, he stated: “Our government does not advocate any policy concerning birth control here in the United States.”

Letters to the editor expressed concern that JFK’s Catholicism would sway his political direction. In the 1960 election, separation of church and state was considered a critical issue.

By 1962, that concern was overshadowed by the Cuban missile crisis. As Americans stockpiled canned food and built backyard bomb shelters in anticipation of nuclear attack, JFK’s religion faded into a non-issue.

Authors and readers of historical fiction have foreknowledge. We know the North won the Civil War. However, story characters in 1860 can’t know that. Character A may feel optimistic about a certain event while character B views that same event with trepidation. The difference in opinion amplifies conflict between A and B. Plus, the reader feels an added layer of tension, knowing that event will soon lead to the bloody battle between the Union and the Confederacy.

Obviously, I fell way down the vast rabbit hole in the Saturday Evening Post archives. I’ll be back for more visits to the archives that refresh memories of my grandmother as well as tidbits about bygone days.

 

TKZers, what are your favorite historical references? Does reading about history tempt you to write about it?

 

 

 

Please check out my thriller Instrument of the Devil, on sale for $.99 until November 15 on Amazon.

What is History?

By Clare Langley-Hawthorne

So I have an idea for a new book and it takes place partly in the early 1980s and it suddenly strikes me that, though I lived through this decade as a young teen, for my own children this era is as much ‘history’ as the Edwardian age is…and then I started to worry, am I really contemplating writing a ‘historical novel’ set in the 1980s?!

I was at a writer’s conference a few years ago and on a ‘historical mystery’ panel I remember an editor saying that ‘the 1980’s are not history’ – at the time, I dismissed the idea out of hand because it seemed such a no-brainer. I mean, the 1980’s – that’s hardly ‘historical’ – but then I started thinking about what happened during this time and my ideas fermented…until, I started to write and then I wondered, so what is the recent past like the 1980’s. Is it history or not?

For the most part, classification hardly matters, but when contemplating writing a novel set in the early/mid 1980s, I have to confess I started to wonder…I mean, how does one deal with the recent past in novels? How to you write about an era that hasn’t quite passed into ‘history’ and which, with all its quirks, is very much open to scrutiny. 

Just watching an episode of the show The Americans makes me appreciate just how ‘foreign’ some of the 1980s can seem…but it also makes me worry about dealing with the ‘recent past’. I have to wonder, what is the best approach to writing about an era that seems ‘so near and yet so far’?  One thing is for sure, you have to be absolutely sure about all your references as too many people are ready to catch your errors. But what about the other pitfalls? Are the 1980s ready to be used as a backdrop for a novel, or is the era caught between the past and present and best avoided? 

So what do you think?
Is a novel set in the 1980s ‘historical’?

Digging up the Past

by Clare Langley-Hawthorne

Being a wee bit of a history nerd, I greeted the news confirming that Richard III’s bones had been dug up in a parking lot in Leicester with great excitement. I mean how often do we get to rehabilitate one of history’s greatest (and many argue much maligned) villains? No doubt we will soon see a rash of new books, both fiction and non-fiction, on dear old Richard and there’s even talk (no surprise) of a movie. 

What I love most about the ‘mythology’ surrounding Richard III is the passion it raises. For me that’s what makes history come to life – real people and real questions over what they did or did not do (always more interesting when allegations of murder are thrown into the pot as well!). From Josephine Tey’s Daughter of Time to Sharon Penman’s Sunne in Splendour and Anne Easter Smith’s A Rose for the Crown, I’ve always loved reading interpretations of Richard III’s life. 

Who knows what other new evidence will come to light now we literally have his bones to study (for instance, they have already put together a facial reconstruction of what he would have looked like and confirmed Richard did indeed have curvature of the spine). The next logical step in the possible ‘rehabilitation’ of Richard III would be to locate the bones of the princes he supposedly had murdered (rumoured to lie beneath Westminster Abbey).

I just love this kind of stuff! 

So what would you like to see as the next ‘coolest grave’ to be discovered? How about Genghis Khan as some have suggested? Rumor has it British archaeologists have their sights of uncovering the remains of both Alfred the Great and Henry I but I’m not sure how much public excitement either of these ‘finds’ would generate. 

What famous bones would you like to see unearthed?