‘UNREMEMBERED Book 2’ Featured in Comic Strip Series
Illustrator Daniel Ackley has featured Ken Zurski’s new book “Unremembered Book 2: Actors, Artists, Entertainers and Influencers” in his comic strip series “Fred the Horse.”
“Fred the Horse” is described as a light-hearted comic strip about the misadventures of Fred The Horse down on the farm in Illinois.
In the strip, somehow Zurski’s book keeps getting into the hands of several characters that inhabits Ackley’s setting for “Fred the Horse.”
Daniel A. Ackley is a Peoria based artist, documentary filmmaker and entrepreneur. His comics appear in various newspaper publications and Peoria Magazine. See more of his work or contact Daniel Ackley at https://ackleytoon.com/ https://www.facebook.com/AckleyArt/
Order the book here: https://www.amikapress.com/books/unremembered-book-2
‘The Grinch’ Was Just One Highlight of the Dr. Seuss Songbook
By Ken Zurski
Theodor Seuss Geisel, better known as Dr. Seuss, wrote dozens of children’s books that still today reach bestseller’s lists and thrill a new generation of fans each and every year. However, his work as a songwriter is often overlooked, due in part to the success of his books. But when reminded, the songs penned by Seuss, are just as enduring and whimsical.
Seuss wrote the songs mostly for television animated specials. And if you know the shows, you know the songs. For instance, in The Cat in the Hat, a television short released in 1970, and based on his first children’s book of the same name, Geisel wrote several original songs including the bouncy, “The Gradunza” (The old, moss-covered, three-handled family gradunza), the catchy “Cat, Hat” (Cat, hat, in French, chat, chapeau. In Spanish, el gato in a sombrero.),” and the playfully teasing, “Calculatus Eliminatus” (Calculatus eliminatus always helps an awful lot. The way to find a missing something is to find out where it’s not), all with Seuss’s clever wordplay and sing-song rhyme pattern .
One song in particular, “I’m a Punk,” introduced such ridiculously pleasing locutions as crontunculous, gropulous, poobler, and schnunk. ” While everyone understands the meaning of punk, being a “schnunk” needed some explanation. But when the Cat sings, “nobody, likes me, not one tiny hunk,” everyone gets the idea.
Some credit the Seuss writing style to a Life magazine article in 1956 that criticized children’s reading levels, specifically “primers” or textbooks with simplified words and phrases like “See Spot run” from the book series Fun with Dick and Jane. Geisel was asked to write a story using a vocabulary list of just over 200 words. He picked the first two words that rhymed, cat and hat, and went from there. It certainly wasn’t like any story in a textbook, that’s for sure, and critics praised “The Cat in the Hat” for its originality.
Several years later when Seuss wrote the lyrics for songs in his television specials, he seemed to relish the opportunity to ratchet up the silliness even more. Seuss’s words just seemed to work with music, oftentimes using traditional melodies, sometimes with an original score. The man credited with composing or arranging most of the music for Seuss is Dean Elliott, a Midwesterner from Wisconsin, who conducted orchestras for the Tom and Jerry shorts before hooking up with Seuss. Later Elliott worked with Bugs Bunny creator Chuck Jones.
Seuss’s most popular song is one we hear every year around the holidays. In it, an unmissable deep voice groans about the Grinch, a Seuss original, who has a “heart full of unwashed socks” and a “soul full of gunk.”
Written in 1966 for the TV special “How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” Seuss enlisted a voice actor named Thurl Ravenscroft to sing the lead on the song even though Boris Karloff was the voice of the Grinch in the special. Karloff reportedly could not sing and Ravenscroft was hired . But Ravencroft’s name was never listed among the credits and Karloff mistakenly got most of the acclaim. Seuss was reportedly furious and apologized for the oversight. Ravenscroft was also the voice of Kellogg’s Tony the Tiger (They’re Great!).
“You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch,” is an unconventional Christmastime staple. The song never mentions Christmas, but rather teases with crafty metaphors, comparisons and contradictions all designed to point out what an awful crank the Grinch – now a symbol of holiday grumpiness – can be.
You’re a mean one Mr. Grinch
You really are a heel.
You’re as cuddly as a cactus,
And as charming as an eel,
Mr. Grinch!
The song is instantly recognizable, charming and unmistakably Dr. Seuss.
The songwriter.
What Steely Dan’s ‘Black Friday’ song is really about.
By Ken Zurski
Before Americans began rushing to stores the day after Thanksgiving and calling the shopping frenzy “Black Friday,” the term itself was used to describe a dark and devious part of our nation’s history.
One that was mostly forgotten until 1975 when a group named Steely Dan immortalized it in song. But still to this day. most people don’t know what the song is really about:
“When Black Friday comes
I stand down by the door
And catch the grey men when they
Dive from the fourteenth floor”
Here’s the story:
The original “Black Friday” begins with a man named Jay Gould.
A leather maker turned New York railroad owner, Gould was the youngest of six children, the only boy, and a scrawny one at that; growing up to be barely five feet tall. What he lacked in size, however, he made up for in ambition.
A financial whiz even as a young man, Gould started surveying and plotting maps for land in rural New York, where he grew up. It was tough work, but not much pay, at least not enough for Gould. In 1856 he met a successful tanner – good work at the time – who taught Gould how to make leather from animal skins and tree bark. Gould found making money just as easy as fashioning belts and bridles. He found a few rich backers, hired a few men and started his own tanning company by literally building a town from scratch in the middle of a vacant but abundant woodland. When the money started to flow, the backers balked, accusing Gould of deception. Their suspicions led to a takeover. The workers, who all lived quite comfortably in the new town they built and named Gouldsborough, rallied around Gould and took the plant back by force, in a shootout no less, although no one was seriously hurt.
Gould won the day, but the business was ruined. By sheer luck, another promising venture opened up. A friend and fellow leather partner had some stock in a small upstate New York railroad line. The line was dying and the stock price plummeted. So Gould bought up the stock, all of it in fact, with what little earnings he had left, and began improving the line. Eventually the rusty trail hooked up with a larger line and Gould was back in business. He now owned the quite lucrative Erie Railroad.
Ten years later, in 1869, Gould turned his attentions to gold.
When Black Friday comes
I collect everything I’m owed
And before my friends find out
I’ll be on the road
Gold was being used exclusively by European markets to pay American farmers for exports since the U.S currency, greenbacks, were not legal tender overseas. Since it would take weeks, sometime months for a transaction to occur, the price would fluctuate with the unstable gold/greenback exchange rate. If gold went down or the greenback price went up, merchants would be liable -often at a substantial loss – to cover the cost of the fluctuations. To protect merchants against risk, the New York Stock Exchange was created so gold could be borrowed at current rates and merchants could pay suppliers immediately and make the gold payment when it came due. Since it was gold for gold – exchange rates were irrelevant.
Gould watched the markets closely always looking for a way to trade up. He reasoned that if traders, like himself, bought gold then lent it using cash as collateral, large collections could be acquired without using much cash at all. And if gold bought more greenback, then products shipped overseas would look cheaper and buyers would spend more. He had a plan but needed a partner.
He found that person in “Gentleman Jim Fisk.”
Jim Fisk was a larger than life figure in New York both physically and socially. A farm boy from New England, Fisk worked as a laborer in a circus troupe before becoming a two-bit peddler selling worthless trinkets and tools door to door to struggling farmers. The townsfolk were duped into calling him “Santa Claus” not only for his physical traits but his apparent generosity as well. When the Civil War came, Fisk made a fortune smuggling cotton from southern plantations to northern mills.
So by the time he reached New York, Fisk was a wealthy man. He also spent money as fast as he could make it; openly cavorted with pretty young girls; and lavished those he admired with expensive gifts and nights on the town. Fisk never hid behind his actions even if they were corrupt. He would chortle at his own genius and openly embarrass those he was cheating. He earned the dubious nickname “Gentleman” for being polite and loyal to his friends.
Fisk and Gould were already in the business of slippery finance. Besides manipulating railroad stock (Fisk was on the board of the Erie Railroad), they dabbled in livestock and bought up cattle futures when prices dropped to a penny a head. Convinced they could outsmart, out con and outlast anyone, it was time to go after a bigger prize: gold. There was only $20 million in gold available in New York City and nationally $100 million in reserves. The market was ripe for the taking and both men beamed at the prospects.
When Black Friday falls you know it’s got to be
Don’t let it fall on me
But the government stood in the way. President Grant was trying to figure out a way to unravel the gold mess, increase shipments overseas and pay off war debts. If gold prices suddenly skyrocketed, as Gould and Fisk had intended, Grant might consider a proposed plan for the government to sell its gold reserves and stabilize the markets; a plan that would leave the two clever traders in a quandary.
Through acquaintances, including Grant’s own brother-in-law, Gould and Fisk met with the president. In June of 1869, they pitched their idea posing as two concerned (a lie) but wealthy (true) citizens who could save the gold markets and raise exports, thus doing the country a favor. They insisted the president let the markets stand and keep the government at bay. Fisk even treated the president to an evening at the opera – in Gould’s private box. The wily general may have been impressed by the opera, but he was also a practical man. He told the two estimable gentlemen that he had no plans to intervene, at least not initially. But Grant really had no idea what the two shysters were up to.
A few months later, when Fisk sent a letter to Grant to confirm the president’s steadfast support, a message arrived back that Grant had received the letter and there would be no reply. The lack of a response was as good as a “yes” for Fisk. Grant was clearly on board, he thought.
He was wrong.
“When Black Friday comes
I’m gonna dig myself a hole
Gonna lay down in it ’til
I satisfy my soul”
On September 20th, a Monday, Fisk’s broker started to buy and the markets subsequently panicked. Gold held steady at first at $130 for every $100 in greenback, but the next day Fisk worked his magic. He showed up in person and went on the offensive. Using threats and lies, including where he thought the president stood on the matter, Fisk spooked the floor.
The Bulls slaughtered the Bears.
Gold was bought, borrowed and sold. And Fisk and Gould, through various brokers, did all the buying. On Wednesday, gold closed slightly over 141, the highest price ever. In his typical showy style, Fisk couldn’t help but rub it in. He brazenly offered bets of 50-thousand dollars that the number would reach 145 by the end of the week. If someone took that sucker proposition, they lost. By Thursday, gold prices hit an astounding 150. The next day it would reach 160.
Then the bottom fell out.
At the White House, Grant was tipped off and furious. On September 24, a Friday, he put the government gold reserve up for sale and Gould and Fisk were effectively out of business. Thanks to the government sell off, almost immediately, gold prices plummeted back to the 130’s. Many investors lost a bundle, but the two schemers got out mostly unscathed.
The whole affair became famously known as “Black Friday.”
When Black Friday comes
I’m gonna stake my claim
I guess I’ll change my name
In 1975, Steely Dan, the rock group consisting of multi-instrumentalist Walter Becker and singer Donald Fagen, wrote a song about it. “Black Friday” was released that same year on their “Katy Lied” album. It was the first single off the album and reached #37 on the Billboard charts.
The song is about the 1869 Gould/Fisk takeover but confuses some listeners due to it’s reference to an Australian town named Muswellbrooke (“Fly down to Muswellbrook”) and the line about kangaroos (“Nothing to do but feed all the kangaroos”).
Fagen later confirmed in an interview the town name was added by chance: “I think we had a map and put our finger down at the place that we thought would be the furthest away from New York or wherever we were at the time. That was it.”
Today the term “Black Friday” is referenced in relation to the Friday after Thanksgiving, traditionally the busiest shopping season of the year and the day retailers go “in the black,” so to speak.
Steely Dan had none of that in mind when they wrote the song.
(“Black Friday” written by Donald Jay Fagen, Walter Carl Becker • Copyright © Universal Music Publishing Group)
The End of the 1970’s was Both a Good and Bad Time for the Music Industry
By Ken Zurski
The end of the 1970’s, specifically the end of 1979, was both a very good and very bad time for music lovers.
First the good. Two albums – both double disc packages – were released only weeks apart from each other that even today are still considered two of the most influential albums of all time. But the end of the decade was also a tragic and sad one for the music industry when a deadly incident at a rock concert both shocked and angered a nation.
The two albums were both indirectly involved in the grief and healing that would follow.
Released in the final months of 1979, and due to their late arrival that year, both albums are widely considered to be successes in the 1980’s instead. (Note: “London Calling” was released in the UK in December 1979; in the US it was released on January 10, 1980). Regardless of which decade they belong, both have a place in rock n roll history and both deserve recognition for being musically experimental and risky too – after all they were double albums, meaning you got double the music in one package.
In retrospect, the timing was perfect. The 70’s was a turbulent decade for music. While hard rock and arena rock gained prominence in the 70’s, the rise of disco was eventually seen as a threat to rock fans, whose mainstay bands like the Rolling Stones dabbled in the genre of dance music (“Miss You”). The decade started with the break up of the Beatles and ended tragically with that unimaginable and deadly concert disaster.
Despite this, the 80’s was looming and rock needed a boost.
It came from the two albums by The Clash and Pink Floyd, respectively.
On December 14, 1979, the British group The Clash released their third album titled “London Calling.” The album cover itself was striking. It featured an action shot of bassist Paul Simonon holding a guitar by the neck and ready to smash it to pieces. It captured a moment of pure rock n roll explosiveness. It also conveyed the group’s reputation as rebellious and unflinching.
The album sold as expected, reaching #27 on the US Billboard charts, and doing even better overseas. Critics adored it calling it a “masterpiece” and placing it on Top Ten lists of the year for both 1979 and 1980.
As albums go, before the digital age, it is considered a work of genius, conceptually too. Most double albums seemed overextended and unnecessary. “London Calling” was different. It was a complete work of art, from the music to the package. And that cover? Iconic. And although music itself is always subjective, most rock historians agree, “London Calling’ is a classic in the true sense of the word. Today, it is the 6th most ranked record on critics’ lists of the all-time greatest albums according to Acclaimed Music. The Clash would go on to have bigger selling albums and singles, but for both musicianship and inventiveness, “London Calling’s” legacy is solid.
Before “London Calling” dropped, however, another double album was released. Unlike the Clash’s dramatic action shot on the cover, the front of this album was simple in design: a drawing of a white brick wall. But that was it. There was no writing on the wall, so to speak. If not for a transparent naming sticker attached to the cover, there was no other way of knowing who was responsible until you turned the album around.
The band, of course, was Pink Floyd and the work was appropriately titled, “The Wall.”
Pink Floyd was an established band, known for its conceptual albums and “The Wall,” their 11th release, was no exception. It was however, their first double LP and the reaction to its apparent expansiveness was mixed. “I’m not sure whether it’s brilliant or terrible, but I find it utterly compelling,” was the response from Melody Maker.
Despite the tepid response from critics, the album was a instant best seller, topping the charts in multiple countries, including the US.
Today, it is considered a classic that has stood the test of time. Several songs like “Another Brick in The Wall Part II” and “Comfortably Numb,” are rock radio staples and a movie of the album’s concept about a drugged out rock n roller who figuratively builds a wall around his troubled life, was released in 1982. Recent year tours of “The Wall,” with varying members of the band participating, are huge successes It still has legs, they say in the business.
The album’s initial release in late November, however was marred by tragedy when on December 3, 1979, eleven people were killed, crushed to death in a stampede, before a Who concert in Cincinnati. Just days before, in reviews, the comparisons of the dark and satirical “The Wall” to the Who’s classic double album rock opera “Tommy” was justified, but purely coincidental, considering the circumstances.
The Who were not held directly responsible for the deaths of the concertgoers, but it didn’t matter. The industry as a whole took a hit. After the tragedy, the rock world paused to mourn, reflect, regroup, and eventually move on.
Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” was a part of that.
A week later, on December 14, The Clash’s “London Calling” was released.
Bring on the 80’s.
A Christmas Song written by a US Presidential Candidate and Once Covered by Gene Autry is Forever Immortalized in a Cartoon Short
By Ken Zurski
In 1951, cowboy crooner Gene Autry released a song titled “The Three Little Dwarfs,” that playfully told the story of three “helpers” trusted by Santa to “drive” his sleigh on Christmas Eve.
The song was written by Stuart Hamblen, a singer, songwriter and politician who ran for President of the United States in 1952 on the Prohibition Party ticket. “A cowboy singer, former racehorse owner and converted alcoholic,” Time magazine wrote that year about Hamblen who picked up 73,000 votes, second most by a third party candidate.
Before politics, the Texas born Hamblen was known for being one of the first singing cowboys and in the 1930’s hosted a popular radio show called “Family Album.”
Hamblen wrote several hits for country radio but nothing quite as enduring as “The Three Little Dwarfs.”
The most famous singing cowboy, Gene Autry recorded the song and released it as a single with a B side tune titled “32 feet – 8 Little Tails.” In December 1951, Columbia Records ran an ad in Billboard listing the label’s “best sellers.” Autry’s “The Three Little Dwarfs” was listed just ahead of his version of “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.”
Today, Autry’s version of “Rudolph” is considered a holiday staple, while “The Three Little Dwarfs” is mostly forgotten.
The song itself however is not.
It was immortalized in a two-minute stop-animation cartoon titled “The Three Little Dwarfs,” but more commonly known as “Hardrock , Coco and Joe.”
Oh-lee-o-lay-dee, o-lay-dee-I-ay
Donner and Blitzen, away, away
Oh-lee-o-lay-dee, o-lay-dee-I-oh
I’m Hardrock! I’m Coco! I’m Joe!
The short premiered on Chicago’s WGN-TV on Christmas Eve 1956.
Autry’s song was not the one used in the short. The tune was re-recorded and reworked. For instance, a narrator is used to speak some of words rather than sing them.
But the most recognizable difference was in Joe’s line. In Autry’s rendition, Joe is sung in a high-pitched voice rather than the distinctive and memorable deep bass of “I’m Joe” featured in the animated version.
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Courier Newspapers Feature Ken Zurski’s Latest ‘Unremembered’ Book
Local author Ken Zurski releases ‘UNREMEMBERED’ sequel
By Madelyn Norman from Courier newspapers
Ellen Terry. Charles Klein. Gaby Deslys. These are names you probably haven’t heard, with stories you won’t forget. In Ken Zurski’s latest “UNREMEMBERED Book 2: Actors, Artists, Entertainers & Influencers,” he shares the history of souls that made all the difference, but go rather unnoticed.
In his sequel, published in September, Zurski shares the attempts and accomplishments of people in the entertainment industry between the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
The “UNREMEMBERED” series first began as a blog, unrememberedhistory.com, which now has over 200 stories of forgotten people throughout history. Zurski realized he was able to intertwine these stories in the form of a nonfiction book, utilizing records of the past.
“I wanted to find a story where I could connect things together,” he said. “We have history to tell because someone else told it before.”
As the author of four books, Zurski has been sharing history since his first book, “The Wreck of the Columbia,” which was published in 2012. As a resident of Morton, Illinois, he loves telling regional stories that made a lasting impact on the people reading them. “UNREMEMBERED” allowed Zurski to branch out into global storytelling.
The prevalence of digital databases and online resources allowed Zurski to gather information at a much quicker rate, which made writing the “UNREMEMBERED” books more enjoyable.
“Research has become much more advanced–thank goodness,” Zurski said. “When I wrote ‘The Wreck of Columbia’ I was at the Peoria and Pekin libraries for days on end, going through their newspaper archives.”
Although researching and writing is a time-consuming process, Zurski wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“It’s really my joy, just writing books and sharing them,” he said.
Since “UNREMEMBERED Book 2” is centered around people that most readers are unfamiliar with, Zurski has a recommendation for the best way to read his book.
“Look at the back of the book first and see if you recognize any names,” Zurski said. “Read the book. Come back to it–and you’ll have all of these stories.”
Visit amazon.com or amikapress.com to purchase a copy of “UNREMEMBERED Book 2: Actors, Artists, Entertainers & Influencers.”
A Book and a Bear Claw
A Book and a Bear Claw.
By Bill Thill
Ken Zurski‘s latest book, “Unremembered – Book 2: Actors, Artists, Entertainers & Influencers” is available for purchase and set to street today, Monday 9-19-22.
It’s a brilliant piece of work.
Ken’s concept for “Unremembered” was to tell “Tales of the nearly famous and the not quite forgotten” and in this book he focuses on a key group of artists in the early part of the twentieth century, a time of prodigious creative output both here in America and in Europe.
If our current entertainment landscape did in fact have a genesis moment, the life and times of the people chronicled here are likely a big part of it.
Dancer Isadora Duncan, theatrical producer Charles Frohman (one of the men who built Broadway), the French sculptor Rodin, J.M. Barrie (the man who wrote Peter Pan), Maude Adams (the actress who played the part), Paris Singer (an unabashed pursuer of the ladies and scion of sewing machine wealth), Kathleen Bruce (an artist who would come to high social standing), the explorer of the antarctic Captain Robert Scott, Mary Desti (a woman who fled a harsh reality, taking her son, a future Academy Award winner, to a better life) are just a handful of the real-life characters that fill the book’s 249 pages.
The dreamers and doers of the era seemed to criss-cross the Atlantic with such regularity that, for the first time in history, the intersection of bold artistic ideas and the crossing of cultural and political boundaries created a new tapestry of shared entertainment experiences. That along with the the emergence of a more rapid style of hot-take celebrity journalism combined to create an environment where the subjects of the book became part of something that had never before existed; a tapestry of personalities that strongly influenced culture through the arts.
Whether this was purposeful on the part of the true life characters that make up the stories in the book, or an inadvertent result of their creative journey, is left for the reader to decide. What is clear is that Ken’s subtitle of “Actors, Artists, Entertainers and Influencers” uses that fourth descriptor of “Influencer” as a way of drawing a straight line from today, back more than 100 years ago, to a time when the modern definition of such a personality, sans the term, could be said to have emerged.
Then, as with today, fire creates both light and heat and we, as the mass audience, are inexorably drawn to both. The stories in the book inevitably draw the reader to a conclusion that is almost as unsettling as it is obvious. These people, our predecessors in possession big dreams, wide fame and broad cultural impact, are kindred souls to many of us today whether or not you work in the arts or entertainment.
Breathing life into the sometimes forgotten past can be unsettling because it tears at a bias regarding our place in the world. It’s a natural and common bias that exists within each of us due to the fact that our world didn’t begin until the day we were born. By direct experience of the here and now it is only our lives that are filled with the bright colors of each new day. We witness and interpret our existence in “real” and immediate time and are faced with the promise, mystery and potential peril of all that is yet to occur.
From such a perspective everything that came before our grand existence is, by default, foreign to us. The language, the wardrobe, the technology and all that goes with those from whom we are a century advanced in calendar time is, in a temporal sense, antiquated and therefore inert. Such thinking elevates the here and now to an exalted position. After all, when we read histories, remembered or not, we often know how the stories and the fates of of our players will end. What could be more godlike than that?
Ken Zurski’s great gift as a storyteller is that he presents as a chronicler of personal histories that have been muted by the veil time. Once the reader is drawn in, however, we are surrounded by the flesh and blood of his subjects, their plots and passions, their loves and losses, the very fire of their lives which leads us to a renewed but once again shocking realization that some very significant parts of everything we consider to be our unique reality has been forged by all that came before. Much of our “here” stands on the foundation built by those who well preceded us and our “now” is more fleeting and borrowed than we might comfortably wish to comprehend within the daily practice of our lives.
Whether or not you work in entertainment or the media, in some cases, the individuals profiled in “Unremembered: Book 2” may be the exact people who built the foundation on which many of your “original thoughts” now stand. Acknowledging the true scope of history, while ultimately life affirming, is not for the timid.
That being said, I had difficulty with the final handful of chapters in this book.
First a bit about author Ken Zurski. Ken is a media professional who has made his living in the field of communications. He’s been a daily radio presence in the Midwest for several decades now. My favorite anecdote about Ken is that in his earliest days on big stick radio in Chicago he was known, on air, as Grant Parke. No, not like the park with the big fountain in the middle of the Loop Grant Park, of course not. Mind the “e” at the end of that name! Meanwhile, Chicago radio is nothing if not “broad shouldered” in the art of equally broad, tongue firmly in cheek, comedy and commentary.
For Ken to have been professionally birthed in such an environment and to observe, on a daily basis, the ebb and flow of his industry has, no doubt, enhanced his gifts as a storyteller. What’s fascinating about Ken’s journey is that he’s managed to merge his instinct for journalistic inquiry with the desire to tell campfire stories that have never before been told.
A few years ago, I told Ken outright that what he was doing as a storyteller would soon cause the world to beat a path to his door. With a series like “Unremembered” Ken is not only doing a great job of telling the stories but he’s also gathered the wood and sparked the flame. The History Channel has recently reached out to Ken and he’s already on his way to another chapter in his own evolving story. I think he’d appreciate it if you friended him on Facebook and followed along. For Ken there are many good things yet to come.
Now, for the sake of balance, let me explain my troubles with the last few chapters of “Unremembered Book 2: Actors, Artists, Entertainers & Influencers.”
Many things in life can bring us pleasure, a cup of coffee on an overcast day, a glazed bear claw that’s bigger than a plate, a good book that’s so well written, alive with characters and full of information that’s new to us that it’s hard to put down. I’ve experienced all of these things since Ken gifted me the opportunity to read his book weeks before it went into wide release. However, I am also a dyed in the wool gratification delayer and therein lies the rub.
I only took a bite of the bear claw because there is no way I was going to indulge to the finish anything that would counteract my recent workouts. I just sipped at the coffee, until it grew cold, mindful that too much caffeine is not my friend. And, just days before I snapped the photo beneath this post, I had stopped reading Ken’s book a few dozen pages short of the finish.
I tend to savor what I enjoy by invoking moderation or by slowing down their inevitable conclusion. I didn’t want the boat to sink. I didn’t want the expedition to fail. I wanted the children to grow and live to tell their own stories and I sure as hell didn’t want that car to drive off while her long scarf was anywhere near its spoked wheels. I didn’t want this book to end.
I read the final pages of “Unremembered” apart from the rest. I savored them. I knew I would have to because of my innate yearning for the show to go on. Because, you see, the show must always go on.
The actors, artists, entertainers and influencers brought back to life by Ken’s brilliant work are no doubt smiling down on the man who, more than a century later, has given them another curtain call. The irony of “Unremembered” is that you won’t soon forget it.
If you’d like to purchase Ken’s book I’ll place a link in the comments. Show people should definitely read this book and suggest it for the shelves of their favorite bookstore. You’ll quickly recognize the “sliding doors” effect of your own creative journey and of all the things that only exist, in the particular way they do, because of your personal contribution.
Congratulations, Ken! I thoroughly enjoyed the read.
Bill Thill is a producer, director, writer & industry podcaster based in Santa Monica, California
I Am Superman
By Ken Zurski
By Ken Zurski
After a court martial for violating the 96th Article of War which prohibits public criticism of the military by an officer, Malcolm Wheeler-Nicholson left the US Calvary in 1923 and became a pulp writer and entrepreneur instead.
While looking for a distinctive character to highlight his new Detective Comics series, Wheeler-Nicholson sent a letter to comic book writer Jerry Siegel.
“We want a detective hero called ‘Slam Bradley’” he wrote. “He is to be an amateur, called in by the police to help unravel difficult cases.”
Siegel and co-creator Joe Shuster used “Slam Bradley” as a trial run for another character they thought had more appeal.
They named the new character “Superman.”
‘Gentleman’ Jim Fisk, Jay Gould, the Greedy Gold Takeover, and How President Grant Stopped It.
By Ken Zurski
Jim Fisk was a larger than life figure in New York both physically and socially. A farm boy from New England, Fisk worked as a laborer in a circus troupe before becoming a two-bit peddler selling worthless trinkets and tools door to door to struggling farmers. The townsfolk were duped into calling him “Santa Claus” not only for his physical traits but his apparent generosity as well. When the Civil War came, Fisk made a fortune smuggling cotton from southern plantations to northern mills.
So by the time he reached New York, Fisk was a wealthy man. He also spent money as fast as he could make it; openly cavorted with pretty young girls; and lavished those he admired with expensive gifts and nights on the town. Fisk never hid behind his actions even if they were corrupt. He would chortle at his own genius and openly embarrass those he was cheating. He earned the dubious nickname “Gentleman” for being polite and loyal to his friends.
Friends like Jay Gould
A leather maker turned New York railroad owner, Gould was the youngest of six children, the only boy, and a scrawny one at that; growing up to be barely five feet tall. What he lacked in size, however, he made up for in ambition.
A financial whiz even as a young man, Gould started surveying and plotting maps for land in rural New York, where he grew up. It was tough work, but not much pay, at least not enough for Gould. In 1856 he met a successful tanner – good work at the time – who taught Gould how to make leather from animal skins and tree bark. Gould found making money just as easy as fashioning belts and bridles. He found a few rich backers, hired a few men and started his own tanning company by literally building a town from scratch in the middle of a vacant but abundant woodland. When the money started to flow, the backers balked, accusing Gould of deception. Their suspicions led to a takeover. The workers, who all lived quite comfortably in the new town they built and named Gouldsborough, rallied around Gould and took the plant back by force, in a shootout no less, although no one was seriously hurt.
Gould won the day, but the business was ruined. By sheer luck, another promising venture opened up. A friend and fellow leather partner had some stock in a small upstate New York railroad line. The line was dying and the stock price plummeted. So Gould bought up the stock, all of it in fact, with what little earnings he had left, and began improving the line. Eventually the rusty trail hooked up with a larger line and Gould was back in business. He now owned the quite lucrative Erie Railroad.
Ten years later, in 1869, Gould got greedy and turned his attentions to gold.
Gold was being used exclusively by European markets to pay American farmers for exports since the U.S currency, greenbacks, were not legal tender overseas. Since it would take weeks, sometime months for a transaction to occur, the price would fluctuate with the unstable gold/greenback exchange rate. If gold went down or the greenback price went up, merchants would be liable -often at a substantial loss – to cover the cost of the fluctuations. To protect merchants against risk, the New York Stock Exchange was created so gold could be borrowed at current rates and merchants could pay suppliers immediately and make the gold payment when it came due. Since it was gold for gold – exchange rates were irrelevant.
Gould watched the markets closely always looking for a way to trade up. He reasoned that if traders, like himself, bought gold then lent it using cash as collateral, large collections could be acquired without using much cash at all. And if gold bought more greenback, then products shipped overseas would look cheaper and buyers would spend more. He had a plan but needed a partner.
He found that person in “Gentleman Jim Fisk.”
Fisk and Gould were already in the business of slippery finance. Besides manipulating railroad stock (Fisk was on the board of the Erie Railroad), they dabbled in livestock and bought up cattle futures when prices dropped to a penny a head. Convinced they could outsmart, out con and outlast anyone, it was time to go after a bigger prize: gold. There was only $20 million in gold available in New York City and nationally $100 million in reserves. The market was ripe for the taking and both men beamed at the prospects.
But the government stood in the way. President Grant was trying to figure out a way to unravel the gold mess, increase shipments overseas and pay off war debts. If gold prices suddenly skyrocketed, as Gould and Fisk had intended, Grant might consider a proposed plan for the government to sell its gold reserves and stabilize the markets; a plan that would leave the two clever traders in a quandary.
Through acquaintances, including Grant’s own brother-in-law, Gould and Fisk met with the president. In June of 1869, they pitched their idea posing as two concerned (a lie) but wealthy (true) citizens who could save the gold markets and raise exports, thus doing the country a favor. They insisted the president let the markets stand and keep the government at bay. Fisk even treated the president to an evening at the opera – in Gould’s private box. The wily general may have been impressed by the opera, but he was also a practical man. He told the two estimable gentlemen that he had no plans to intervene, at least not initially. But Grant really had no idea what the two shysters were up to.
A few months later, when Fisk sent a letter to Grant to confirm the president’s steadfast support, a message erroneously arrived back that Grant had received the letter and there would be no reply. The lack of a response was as good as a “yes” for Fisk. Grant was clearly on board, he thought.
He was wrong.
On September 20th, a Monday, Fisk’s broker started to buy and the markets subsequently panicked. Gold held steady at first at $130 for every $100 in greenback, but the next day Fisk worked his magic. He showed up in person and went on the offensive. Using threats and lies, including where he thought the president stood on the matter, Fisk spooked the floor.
The Bulls slaughtered the Bears.
Gold was bought, borrowed and sold. And Fisk and Gould, through various brokers, did all the buying. On Wednesday, gold closed slightly over 141, the highest price ever. In his typical showy style, Fisk couldn’t help but rub it in. He brazenly offered bets of 50-thousand dollars that the number would reach 145 by the end of the week. If someone took that sucker proposition, they lost. By Thursday, gold prices hit an astounding 150. The next day it would reach 160.
Then the bottom fell out.
At the White House, Grant was tipped off and furious. On September 24, a Friday, he put the government gold reserve up for sale and Gould and Fisk were effectively out of business. Thanks to the government sell off, almost immediately, gold prices plummeted back to the 130’s.
Many investors lost a bundle, but the two schemers got out mostly unscathed.
A Brother’s Lamentation
By Ken Zurski
On April 15 1865, the day after President Lincoln was struck down by an assassin’s bullet, Edwin Booth, a popular stage actor in New York, was told his younger brother John had pulled the trigger.
Edwin was appearing in a “successful” show at the time and immediately asked that it shut down. “The news of this morning has made me wretched,” he wrote, “not only because of my brother’s crime, but because a most justly honored and patriotic ruler has fallen.”
Edwin and his brother were estranged. Politics and ideology had separated them, as it did the rest of the country. “When I told John I voted for Lincoln,” Edwin recalled, “he expressed deep regret.”
Edwin feared for his own life after news that another brother, Junius, also an actor, had been threatened by an angry mob in Cincinnati. “Whatever calamity may befall me and mine, my country, one and indivisible, has my warmest devotion,” Edwin explained before going into hiding.
In January the following year, friends urged him to return to the stage. He reluctantly agreed. As his favorite character, Hamlet, Edwin stepped in front of a packed theater.
He was greeted by a tremendous applause.
All Hail the Golden Eagle, Not the ‘Cowardly’ Bald One
By Ken Zurski
It’s hard to imagine anything other than the majestic bald eagle as the symbol of the United States of America, but back in the late 18th century, when good and honorable men were deciding such things, there were several considerations vying for a symbol which best represented the new country.
Benjamin Franklin was one such decider. Although Franklin didn’t quite nominate another bird, the turkey, as some history lessons would suggest, it was the use of the bald eagle as the symbol of America that most infuriated the elder statesman.
“[The bald eagle] is a bird of bad moral character,” Franklin wrote to his daughter. “He does not get his Living honestly.”
For Franklin it was a a matter of principal. The bald eagle was a notorious thief, he implied. Here’s why the perception is a reasonable one at least: Bald eagles are considered good gliders and even better observers. Therefore, they often watch other birds, like the more agile Osprey (appropriately called a fish hawk) dive into water to seize its prey. The bald eagle then assaults the Osprey and forces it to release the catch, grabs the prey in mid-air, and returns to its nest with the stolen goods. “With all this injustice,” Franklin wrote as only he could, “[The bald eagle] is a rank coward.”
Franklin then expounded on the turkey comparison: “For the truth, the turkey is a much more respectable bird…a true original Native of America who would not hesitate to attack a grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his farmyard with a red coat on.”
Regardless of his turkey argument, was Franklin’s assessment of the bald eagle as a “coward” a fair one?
Ornithologists today provide a more scientific and sensible explanation. In the”Book of North American Birds” the bald eagle gets its just due, for as a bird, it’s actions are justifiable. “Nature has her own yardstick, and in nature’s eyes the bald eagle is blameless. What we perceive as laziness is actually competence.” Being able to catch a “waterfowl in flight and rabbits on the run,” the book suggests is a noble and rewarded skill.
Perhaps, a better choice for the nation’s top bird, might have been the golden eagle, who unlike the bald eagle captures its own prey, mostly small rodents, but is powerful enough to attack larger animals like deer or antelope on rare occasions. (Its reputation today is tainted somewhat by rumors that it snatches unsuspecting domestic animals, like goats or small dogs.) But golden eagles don’t want attention. They shy away from more populated areas and appear to be “lazy” only because they can hunt with such precision and ease they don’t really have to ruffle their feathers.
The reason why America chose the bald eagle over the golden eagle to be the nations symbol, however, seems obvious by default. History had already pinned the golden eagle as a symbol of warrior strength and victory (“perched on banners of leading armies, the fists of emperors and figuring in religious cultures)” among other heroic and stately attributes. Basically, the golden eagle had been taken.
The bald eagle, by comparison, would be truly American.
Perhaps when Franklin made the disparaging comments against the bald eagle he was also harboring a nearly decade old grudge.
In 1775, a year before America’s independence, Franklin wrote the Pennsylvania Journal and suggested an animal be used as a symbol of a new country, one that had the “temper and conduct of America,” he explained. He had something in mind. “She never begins an attack, nor, when once engaged, ever surrenders;” he wrote. “She is therefore an emblem of magnanimity and true courage”
Franklin’s choice: the rattlesnake.
Teddy’s ‘Immensely Pleasing’ Feisty Blue Macaw
By Ken Zurski
Theodore Roosevelt was known to capitalize the word “nature,” so it’s no surprise that when the 26th president took over the White House he brought with him a virtual zoo.
The Roosevelt sanctuary included a small bear named Jonathon, a pig named Maude, a lizard named Bill, several guinea pigs, a badger, a “one-legged” rooster, a barn owl, a hen, a hyena, a calico pony, and a blue macaw named Eli Yale, who flew in the White House conservatory, but often flew in the halls too.
(The origin of the bird’s name comes from Eilhu Yale, an 18th Century British Merchant, and the the namesake of Yale University. “Eli” is an informal name given to Yale graduates. Teddy was a Harvard man but admired the Yale School of Forestry, an institution founded by friend and fellow conversationalist Gifford Pinchot, a 1889 Yale grad).
Teddy was especially fond of Eli because it had a reputation of being noisy and ornery to the staff. This pleased the president immensely. “Eli has a bill that could bite through a boiler plate,” the president delightfully warned.
In 1902, when the White House conservatory was being repaired, Eli was said to be in a rage. “The President’s bird has not hesitated to use some choicest terms on [the workers] whenever they encroached upon her premises,” the papers reported.
In 1909, when Roosevelt and the animals left the White House, the conservatory would soon be gone too. That same year, President William Howard Taft tore it down to extend the West Wing.
The current Oval office resides there today.
UNREMEMBERED 