Ex Libris, an essay about books

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   Ex Libris, an essay about books

I like books. Books have played a large role in my life. I have bought, collected, and sold books. It used to be that when you visited a person's home, the books on view told you a lot about its owner. If you were to pull a book from the shelf you would sometimes find a slip of paper pasted inside the cover with the words "Ex Libris" and the name of the owner. ( From the library of..)  There was often a complete set of " World Book" encyclopedia somewhere on the shelves. Alas, this is seldom the case anymore. Giant televisions have taken over the former space which once housed books.

Books have been around for a very long time.The earliest books were written on clay tablets by the Sumerians, an ancient people who lived in the Near East. A wedge-shaped stylus was pressed into the soft clay, and then baked until hard. The vast number of these clay tablets are business records, but there are stories too. One example tells of a time when a great flood covered the earth. Sound familiar? It should, it tells the same story found in the book of Genesis in the Bible.

As history continues, we find the Ancient Egyptians writing on papyrus, a reed found growing in the Nile. These reeds were split and pressed together to form a sheet to write upon. The Greeks and Romans wrote upon the dried hides of animals scraped clean of hair. So also did the Hebrews. The the Dead Sea Scrolls is an excellent example. These documents are for us to read and enjoy today.

The fall of the Roman empire led us into the Middle Ages where monks labored long hours copying books by hand. Books were so valuable, that they were often chained to desks in order to prevent theft.

The event that changed  books forever was the invention of moveable type by J. Gutenberg, not the printing press which is so often mentioned. Now, with letters which could be arranged in words and sentences, and covered with ink and paper and  placed under pressure of a press, books could be mass produced. The first book to be printed by Gutenberg was the Bible. The Bible continues today as the number one best-seller.

Although books could be printed, they continued to be costly and valuable. Remember reading how Lincoln trudged through the snow to barrow a book to read by firelight? Pioneer Americans had at least a copy of the Bible. And often a copy of John Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress." It was Ben Franklin who is credited for creating the first lending library. And during the 19th century the "Robber Baron" Andrew Carnage, endowed libraries all across America. Your town probably has one. Mine Does. Teddy Roosevelt took a trunk full of books on his trip to Africa. I would bet that you once read a book by flashlight under a blanket when told to go to bed.

But not everyone has cared for books. Books often contain ideas that are opposed to a present political climate. A well-known theme concerning the ban of books is the  Sci-Fi "Fahrenheit 451" by Ray Bradbury. The story set in the future is where firemen are called upon to burn books. But you cannot kill an idea by simply burning books.The people in the book memorized books until such time when they could again be put into print. The title of the book is taken from the temperature at which paper burns.

But that was fiction. The real threat was during WWII under the Nazi regime. The first great burning of books took place in Berlin in 1933. President FDR said "Books cannot be killed by fire." But even so, the Nazi's tried. On My 10,1933,in Berlin thousands of students heaped books into a burning pyre. Then all across Germany ninety-three additional book burnings were held. "Time" magazine," New York Times," and countless others condemned these violent and  senseless acts. Education was now to bring glory to Germany alone.

Following Japan's attack on Pearl Harbor, and America entering the war, a new chapter was written concerning books. First, there was a nation-wide book drive to provide books for our servicemen. Named the  Victory Book Campaign, Americans now donated books in addition to scrap metal,rubber, and bacon fat. By the end of April 1942, nearly nine million books had been donated.When F.D.R. was asked what types of books should be donated he replied : "Anything but algebra." But there was one big problem. Many of the books were too large and heavy for a soldier's backpack. This led to a revolution in book printing and publication. The Armed Services Editions was born. Paperback books small size, light- weight pages, which could easily fit into a pocket. The sizes ranged from the large six and a half by flour inches. The smaller size five and a half by three and three-eighths inches. The largest  was only three-quarters of an inch thick. The smallest was less than an eighth of an inch thick. The books were an instant hit, and were sent world-wide. War weary and bored servicemen eagerly awaited each shipment. Over one hundred million ASE books were printed.

After the war Americans had become used to   paperback books, and publishers never looked back. Wire racks of pocket books became a common sight.

And now there yet another revolution concerning books,and that is electronic books. hand-held devices containing books which turn pages with the touch of a finger. Portable,light weight, easy to carry. Excellent for long trips, as long as the battery is charged. But as for me, I still prefer a book held in my hand. Like I said before, I like books.

P.S. Much of what I have written about ASE paperbacks, I stole from the new excellent book "When Books Went to War," by Molly Nuptial Manning.

     Aloha
     Grant  

Under the Old Oak Tree

Under the Old Oak Tree

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      Under the Old Oak Tree

This one is for Jennifer and Jessica

Yesterday I found myself thinking about the huge oak tree in our yard in Petersburg. I never knew how old it was at the time we lived there, but now I know. 

Arborists have developed a way to calculate the age of North American trees without having to cut them down and count the growth rings. Our tree was either a black or red oak. I once measured the circumference and found that it was 13 feet. If you convert this into inches, and then multiply that number by a factor of either three, four or five. This gives you the age of the tree.    I didn’t know if it was red or black so I chose the smaller number. The result was astonishing! Our tree was at least 268 years old. That means that the Huron Indians in our area were living in the shade of the tree at the time of the birth of our nation. I had long suspected that the Huron Indians of the area camped on our land. I had found flint arrow heads in the back field after a rain. Further proof was the discovery of a stone axe when I was digging a foundation for a step  to  the kitchen door.

Our small plot of land had a rich history. I had heard of an old man by the name of Ephram Rauch, who had lived there and that he had a fat old horse and wagon that he drove to town to sell melons. One of my pigs dug up a copper powder flask next to the wall of the small barn. It must have been hung from a nail,and either a rat chewed the leather string holding it, or maybe it was claimed by age and became buried. 

The last person to live in our little house was an old woman named Mrs. Miller. The house consisted of only four rooms. One room was the living room, then next to it was a bedroom. The other two rooms were the kitchen and bath. This bathroom was once a bedroom as there was an old outhouse. The kitchen ceiling sloped to the rear and there was an old door with a thumb latch. You had to duck under to enter or leave the kitchen.

Outside the house had been sided with green asbestos siding covering the original wood siding. The house had a slope making the front of the house taller than the rear. The roof was sheeted with metal barn roofing, and covered a layer of wood shingles. 

In addition to a front door, there was a covered door which led to a stone- walled cellar with a sand floor. It was there that I came to store stone crocks of pickles and sauerkraut.

There was a small barn under the oak tree. It had been used to house a wagon and a stall for a horse and its feed. It was open on one side, so I built a pair of wide doors which made a home for my tractor, Jennifer’s pony and some milk goats. One of them chewed up my tractor’s seat pad. I built an addition on the barn of scrap metal roofing for my pigs. A stout wire fence was held up by railroad ties at each corner. Next to the fence I had six bee hives. 

I burned down the old outhouse and I built some rabbit cages. One building I bought and dragged to our farm was a chicken house. It was about 8x10 and shaped like a quonset hut. My friend Ellis and I jacked the building up off the ground and slid two logs under and drilled two long heavy screws into the logs. A long chain was hitched to the logs and we dragged it some three miles home. That became our chicken house. 

Our neighbor John Ott borrowed my 100 ft. tape and planned his apple orchard alongside and behind our property. He also used his small old Ford tractor with a bucket scoop and dug a good-size pond. I had found a small duck boat somewhere, painted it red and we often rowed around the pond. It was also used for fishing, and skating in winter. 

Jennifer slept at the foot of our bed until she was five years old. We needed more room. My plan was to build an addition slightly in front of the old house, keeping the same angle of the roof. Buck Ulmer,a carpenter, made me a pattern and I cut the rafters. I offered to pay him twenty bucks for the pattern. He refused saying “You changed a tire on my wife’s car sometime ago.” 

I built that addition, with a trapdoor in the hallway leading to the basement. I marvel that I didn’t get hurt. I put metal on the roof and standing on a step ladder, trimmed the edges with a skill-saw. I am left-handed.  All skill-saws are right-handed. I sided the addition with white boards and put green shutters around the windows. 

I was growing produce for market and had a galvanized stock tank to wash vegetables. It served as a pool for the girls. I traded a pick-up truck for a nine- passenger Chevy station wagon. I met a guy who wanted my vehicle, and would trade me for his swimming pool. The deal was closed when he said he and his family would set it up for us. Now the girls had a big swimming pool. I built steps and a deck on one side of the pool. The girls lived in their bathing suits all summer. Jessica had to wear a life jacket until she could swim across the pool without one. She soon did. I cut and framed a small window in the kitchen wall,so their mother could send out food and drink without them   tracking up the kitchen.      

As I write this it seems as if I was always building something. Next came a garage. I set the forms,put some old fence on the ground and had concrete delivered. When the concrete had set, I built the walls on the deck and everybody helped to raise them up and put them in place. The only outside help at that point came from my friend George and his son. We had to raise the roof trusses and nail them in place. Then came the roofing and white siding. My friend Ellis came to help me with the garage door. The garage was 24x24 and the door was heavy.   

My plan was to use only one side of the garage for a truck or car, the other side would become my leather shop. I had worked in Ann Arbor at a leather shop called the “Mule Skinner.” Having learned the trade, I wanted my own shop. I had insulated the garage for just this. I found a “Silver Oak” brand pot-belly wood stove,a couple of show cases, and a tank of harness oil. My sign out by the road read, “ The Stitching Horse,” and showed a horse threading a needle. A stitching horse is a seated wood vice used to hold leather while it is being sewn.  I made many custom leather items. Horse gear, hats, belts, custom holsters for handguns etc. The most unusual request was for a elkskin bikini. Business was good, and added to our income. The days  before Christmas was a very busy time for special orders. It was wonderful to step inside the shop and smell the leather and wood smoke. The girls pounded away on scrap leather, making name bracelets for their friends. 

When I came at last  to bring this memoir to an end, I realized that I failed to mention what we did out there on our little acre of land. That is besides selling honey, fresh eggs, goat milk, and some produce. 

Although we owned only a small patch of land, I rented several acres. These were sometimes close to home, other fields were three miles away. It was there that I grew sweet corn, tomatoes, cabbage, green beans, etc. I sold my produce on the Eastern Market in Detroit, and Ann Arbor market. I was helped by Terri, the young daughter of my friend Ellis. She would help customers, and sometimes Jennifer came along to help, and sleep under the sales counter. 

So this is at last the end of the story of our living and working during the sixties and seventies on our acre, under the old oak tree.

I should also mention that I built two geodesic domes. You can read about that in my blog: morelettersfromparadise.blogspot.com “Dome Sweet Dome.

      Aloha 

      Grant  (Dad)

Jerry

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              Jerry
Jerry's mother died when he was only five, and he went to live with his grandparents. And they were so poor. Grandpa and grandma had managed to carve out eighty acres from the stubborn South Dakota prairie. They owned a team of horses, a couple of pigs, and a small flock of chickens. Jerry never mentioned if they had a cow. Grandma cooked and baked on a large cast iron stove with a reservoir for heating hot water.  There was also an oil stove used to heat the small farmhouse.  Jerry said that they didn't have electricity until he was in the fourth grade.  And indoor plumbing didn't arrive until he was a junior in high school.

There were always chores to do. Jerry helped grandpa when he could. He carried two five gallon pails of water, candled eggs, fed the livestock, and pulled weeds in grandma's garden. Jerry received some whacks too, from grandpa when it was felt that he deserved them.

Jerry wore bib overalls and dark, ankle-high shoes all year long, with five-buckle Arctic overshoes in winter.  He was called the "orphan," by the people of the town. "They were very kind."Jerry said, giving him odd jobs to make a little money.  Often on his way home from school he would be asked by the grocer to sweep the store floor, or at the single gas station to wash a car.

The little prairie town of Chapman had a population of only two hundred souls, but it did have three churches, Lutheran, Baptist, and Catholic were all represented.

When Jerry grew older he had a job grinding welded plow shares for the local blacksmith. And much later, Jerry drove a gasoline truck to supply area service stations.

But it wasn't always work. Jerry recalled the time when three bachelor farmers took him see Minsky's Burlesque in Minneapolis.  He became quite the pool hustler, also.

Later, Jerry attended college on a basketball scholarship, at the urging of the three bachelor farmers, spent some time in the army, married, had a family, taught school, and  became a school principal.  He was an expert antique dealer and built some apartment houses.  He never forgot his roots, and worked with a school in the Navajo Nation. Jerry has come a long way from being the orphan boy raised by his grandparents, to being one of the nicest and most generous of men around.

       Aloha
       Grant
   

High Roller

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          High Roller
For all you fans of Las Vegas, you may be interested to learn that there is a big new attraction. It's called the "High Roller."
It consists of a 550 ft. wheel, much like the spokes of a bicycle. Steel cables stretch out from the center of the wheel to the outside rim. Attached  to the rim are glass- sided cars which can hold as many as forty people. The wheel moves slowly, taking about 46 minutes to travel the full circle.The wheel never stops, passengers enter and exit while it continues to move. The view is excellent. Be sure to sit on the left side of the car to view all the many casinos. This ride has only been open since last fall. The cost of construction was a whopping five hundred million dollars!! It is owned by Caesar's Palace.

     Aloha
     Grant  

Skateboards and Lizards

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      Skateboards and Lizards
   What? electric skateboards! Yep, brand-new invention. These boards are said to travel at a speed of 12.5 mph. They weigh 13.9 lbs. and can travel 18 miles on a 110 volt charge taking 3 to 5 hours. These boards are priced from $700.to $1,000. We see many skateboard riders here in Waikiki. They have all been kicked along by foot power. They are a hazard on our sidewalks. This is especially true when they come up behind you, while walking. This new invention should prove interesting. Right about here I am tempted to make some rude remarks about the use of snowboards in the snow. But, I won't.

There is a crisis here, but I doubt that the story will make it to the mainland newspapers and t.v. The crisis is that there as an extreme shortage of crickets. You know, those insects that rub their wings together and make chirping noises. This insect is the main food for lizards and salamanders. These lizards and amphibians have been forced onto a diet. Pet stores are hoarding their supply in order to feed the few that they have for sale. Why the shortage? The supplier could not be reached for comment. It is against the law to import crickets from the mainland because they could bring parasites and disease to the Islands. Pet owners have been forced to take their pets outside at night and hunt for bugs.  It is not easy to raise crickets. And you thought that you sometimes had trouble with your pet food.    (All of this important information I stole from our local newspaper.)

      Aloha
      Grant

Oatman, AZ

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          Oatman, Arizona
Oatman, Arizona, is less than a dot on the face of the State of Arizona. It would have been forgotten but for the nearby gold mine and the swarms of tourists that came to see the burros. These wild burros are the off-spring of burros left behind years ago by gold miners. Somehow those burros not only survived the harsh environment, they thrived and multiplied in great numbers. So much so that today they freely roam the single main street (route 66). Cars must thread slowly  and carefully between the burros and tourists. Cubes of hay and fresh carrots can be purchased to feed the burros. They are tame, so much so that they are petted, fussed over and photographed. But they will kick if annoyed. I was minding my own business when I received swat on the side of my leg by a burro's tail.

Both sides of the street are lined with small shops selling Western-themed merchandise. The one building of importance  is the Oatman Hotel. The movie star Clark Gable used to come to the hotel to play poker with the miners. He and the movie star Carol Lombard once occupied the bridal suite.  A very corny gunfight takes place at noon for the benefit of Shriners charity.  One building even more popular is the only public restroom between Kingman and Oatman. A must visit by everyone.

        Aloha
        Grant

Mother Road

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            Mother Road
" Danny Wants a cup of water."  These words from John Steinbeck's novel "Grapes of Wrath," came flooding into my mind.  We were traveling over a short stretch of Historic Route 66, which Steinbeck called the "Mother Road" leading to a better life in California.  "Kingman, Barstow, San Bernadino" the words rang in my ears.

Readers of this great novel will recall that it tells the story of the Joad family, driven from their land  during the Great Dust Bowl of the thirties, and their struggles driving route 66 to California.  The Joad family and hundreds of other families drove old Model T Ford cars and trucks with mechanical brakes, filled with  all their belongings, and filled with hope for a better life in California.  "Danny wants a cup of water."

Reading this great novel is to learn of the many perils of the journey. But to get an even better understanding of what they went through is to drive the short stretch of route 66 between Kingman and Oatman ,Arizona.

The narrow two- lane road runs through the desert, and then climbs up the mountain.  There are no guard rails.  The road twists and turns, and then suddenly plunges  down with a sharp S turn at the bottom.  This is repeated over and over again.  One careless touch of the steering wheel would cause your vehicle to leave the road and fall down into the canyon below.  "Danny wants a cup of water."

Those old Model T Ford cars and trucks did not have a fuel pump for the engine. Often it became necessary to shift into reverse, and back up the mountain in order to keep the engine running.

Now more than ever before, I continue to marvel at the courage of all those brave people who drove the "Mother Road" to California. "Danny wants a cup of water."

        Aloha
        Grant