Forty Years Ago

A bit of a stir resulted from the appointment of Forest Parker Harry Glos as police chief of nearby Northlake. Editor Claude Walker supported the choice, and the man. “A group of self-appointed guardians of public morals made every attempt to discredit Harry,” said Walker. “They claimed that he is in league with the Syndicate [and] takes his orders from the mayor.”

Walker added that Glos refused to get “boxed in” by these critics”Northlake news reporters who apparently believe that officials like police chiefs are guilty until proven innocent. Walker concluded that Glos took over a thankless job in that “turbulent” suburb. He expressed faith that Glos would do a worthy job there, noting that he handled himself in a “splendid and dignified manner” when he was interviewed on “Meet the Press.”

From the Aug./Sept. issues of the Forest Park Review.

Thirty Years Ago

An odd boxed bulletin appeared on p. 10 of the August 20, 1975 Review: “The Society wishes to thank its members for attending the first annual NON-meeting of the Homer’s Peace & Quiet Society at Clear Lake, Texas on August 1, 2 and 3. We are sorry that member TONY BALE and member (?) ‘BAD SAM BAKER were unable to attend. The next annual NON-member meeting of the Society will be held at Clear Lake, in July of 1976. (Signed)”Water Color Turner, Chairman.”

From the July/Aug. 1975 issues of the Forest Park Review.

Twenty Years Ago

“DEAR SALLY: My husband and I have been married six years, both of us work, own a nice home and are happy. But for our own personal reasons we do not have any children. This has made us the target of lots of remarks from some of our friends (those with kids) who badger us with that old cliche, ‘You don’t know what you’re missing without children in your home.’ It so happens we’re perfectly content for the present, so how can we cope with these meddlers?”VEXED.”

“DEAR VEXED: You have some ill-bred busybodies for so-called ‘friends.’ Next time they voice these unasked-for opinions, tell them, ‘Please, we’ve heard enough about that. Let’s talk about something else.'”

Publisher Bob Haeger, being a working stiff, commented on a letter received from John Farrell, a retired friend in Arizona. Haeger felt it was a low blow not only becasue the letter praised the pleasant climate but that the personalized stationery was inscribed, “From the hammock of John Farrell.”

From the Aug./Sept. 1985 issues of the Forest Park Review.

Ten Years Ago

You don’t have to be much of a baseball fan to be familiar with the name Mickey Mantle. Review columnist Bill Lichtenberg paid him homage on the occasion of “Da Mick’s” premature death. Like Chicago products Ernie (Let’s play two!) Banks and Nellie Fox (the Big Little Man), Mickey played at a time when “baseball didn’t pay a life’s wages in a single season.” They played for the love of the game”and it showed.

Mantle was mentored in Commerce Okla., by his father, who also died young. In the glorious succession of great Yankee teams, Ruth was succeeded by DiMaggio and DiMaggio by Mantle. Three generations. No one has since carried it farther. Many have speculated that Mickey wasted his considerable talents on booze, fast living and a frantic lifestyle. Unlike his New York/San Francisco counterpart, Willie Mays, who played about eight years too long, Mantle physically could not prolong a fading career. Yet the man was generously blessed with talent and, when he was on, the game was gone. At such times he epitomized baseball with his hitting, fielding, throwing, running and crashing 536 switch-hitting home runs. Mickey, (as Bill Lichenberg strongly implies) was both an institution and a fallible human being, that could never happen again.

Who Remembers?

Comedien Larry Storch … Dick Shawn (“I’m comin’, Mama! Your litle boy is comin'”) … Art Buchwald … Chernoble … the Organic Theater … the College of Complexes … Lola Falana … J. D. Salinger … Hubert H. Humphrey … Lionel Ritchie … Dan August … Dan Dailey … Dan Seymour … Dan Ryan … Ol’ Dan Tucker … dandelion … dander … Vitalis (still around?)

From the Sept. 1995 issues of the Forest Park Review.