Whatever Happened To

Pete Toomey

The late Pete Toomey, an old friend I knew from my WGIV days in the early 50s, made a tape recording of what he remembered about the history of that station. He stayed in contact with Bill Lineburger, the long time chief engineer of Charlotte's first "independent" station.

On that tape he mentioned a name that I heard many stories about, but never met. Since he was mentioned by so many in the broadcast business, I figured that our paths would cross eventually.

But they never did.

I never forgot his name though...and some of the stories about him.

But since my retirement, almost 2 years ago, I have time to do a lot of things I never found the time to do.  One of which is searching on the Internet.

However, I have come up with NOTHING but dead ends in my search for the legendary...CONRAD PHILLIPS.

All I know is that he was a great football player...for Central High before WW2...fought in that great war, losing both feet in the process, returned to Charlotte and was hired as a DJ for WGIV and attended Charlotte College......

Walter Cronkite and Julian Barber

My friend the late Julian Barber and he were good friends and Julian once told me a story about
Conrad.  

It seems that he and Julian were going somewhere and they came upon a bunch of young boys playing football.  Conrad decided to coach them a little on the finer points of "passing" and "punting" the football.

The kids watched spellbound as he showed them exactly how to grip the football...and how to "lead" a receiver, etc.

They were in complete awe as this ex-football star began explaining the finer points of "punting;" how to grip it with the laces up and arms fully extended....then two steps and drop the ball....and KICK!

As his foot met the ball.....the perfect spiral sailed high in the air.

And so did his prosthetic foot!

Julian said he never saw a bunch of scared kids run home so fast!

So, if any of you know anything about CONRAD PHILLIPS......let me know.

-Ed

Finger Licking Good

KFC Restaurant

"There's no accounting for taste," goes the old expression, but personally, the Kentucky Colonel's "finger licking good" fried chicken is hard to beat.  In my opinion, it's the best since my Aunt Kathryn's   iron skillet fried Sunday dinner special.

( Sunday dinner, of course, was at 12 noon, right after church.)

As modest as I am, truth dictates that I admit that I am somewhat of a celebrity at my local KFC restaurant.  It's all because I mentioned one time that I knew the white haired, goateed old man in the white suit, pictured on the wall of the restaurant.

Not well, BUT I once spent a couple of hours with him when

Colonel Sanders

he was a guest on the TV show I was hosting.  (I only bragg about all the celebrities I knew to people who don't realize that anyone who ever hosted a local TV or radio show probably interviewed  at least a 100 "stars" whose 
PR people regularly booked them on as many stations as possible.)

The Colonel seemed to me to be a very 
nice, modest man...who had a lot to be 

modest about.  His early life was one of 

ups and downs, mostly downs, until his love of cooking finally paid off.

Prior to that he had held a variety of jobs, selling insurance, working for a steamboat ferry company and eventually took a correspondence course that allowed him to earn a law degree. 

However, he ruined his legal career by getting into a fist fight with his client in the courtroom.

Later he opened a restaurant in Corbin Kentucky and found modest success for the first time in his life. 

 But at the time of his 65th birthday the restaurant had ceased being profitable and he had completely used up his savings. 

 He was  dead broke.

Sanders used the money from his first social security check to travel by car, often sleeping in it, calling on restaurants to try his special chicken recipe and invest in its success.  He estimated that he called on 1009 restaurants, often cooking samples for the restaurants, before he got his first "yes" response. 

And, the rest is history.

TRADER VIC

I could also impress the workers at the local "Trader Vics," except for the fact that there is not one anymore close to where I live.

In fact, there are only 4 left in the United States.  But in the 1960's the "Tiki" theme was popular and a self promoter  named Victor Jules Bergeron changed the name and decor of the restaurant he owned in San Francisco, from "Rinky Dinks" to "Trader Vics."  (Rinky Dink was borrowed from he WW1 song, "Rinky Dinky Parley Vous.")

Bergeron told me that until he came along, there was no such

thing as "Polynesian Food."  He said he just made that up. 

He also "invented" himself, falling right in to the persona of a South Pacific trader/pirate.

His wooden leg (lost in a shark attack, he said) fit right in with  his new image with which he was known to entertain customers by sticking an ice pick in it.  Often he would tell people, "Never get one of these...unless you really need it."

I guess that was pretty entertaining after the customers had consumed a couple of Trader Vics other "invention," the Mai Tai.

-Ed

STOP-ped

Remember how telegrams used to end sentences with the word "STOP," instead of a period?

The reason was because Western Union charged for punctuation, but not for words of only 4 letters.

I learned that small fact in an article I read about the 150 year old company sending its last telegram in 2006.

In its time Western Union played a huge part in this country's history.

It was an important part of my family as well. One of my father's first jobs was as a bicycle delivery
boy for Western Union. He later taught himself the Morse Code and worked as a telegrapher for the company.  My mother also worked at Western Union.  She retired from there after 40 years.

I often think of how depressing many of her days were...putting those telegrams together from the War Department during WW2 informing parents of the deaths of their soldier sons and daughters...and then sending them out to be delivered.

As far as I know, Western Union is still around, doing fairly well sending money orders.

But those "glory days" of bringing "earth shattering" news, both happy AND tragic, have STOP -ed.

Ed

I Don't Believe in Ghosts

Of course not.

"Bloody Lane"  Antietam

But, to be totally honest, I sometimes get unexplained chills up my spine when visiting historical sites; Especially Civil War Sites.

Standing in the middle of "Bloody Lane" on the Antietam Battle field was almost painful. I'm sure it wasn't caused by "ghosts," but my own awareness of what happened there.

Nevertheless, I never tire of visiting Civil War sites.

A few years ago, I was driving back from a business meeting in Richmond when I spotted a sign just before  Fredericksberg pointing to the Stonewall Jackson Shrine, which is a fancy name for the farmhouse where Stonewall Jackson died.

Jackson had been wounded by "friendly fire" from members of the 18th NC regiment, led by John D. Barry who died two years later at age 27 according to his family as a direct consequence of his guilt and depression over his role in Jackson's death. This happened during the Battle of Chancellorsville when Jackson had his men continue fighting even after dark, which was unusual during the Civil War.
` 

House where Jackson Died

It was dusk when I pulled off I-95 onto the road that led to the tiny community of Guinea, VA, which as far as I could determine is little more than a few houses and a stop sign. All of the National Parks have signs that announce they are closed after dark, and I was definitely pushing the envelope.  But there were no barriers to the entrance of the small parking lot, so I pulled right in. There were no other cars there either, nor did I see anyone. All I saw was a small white house, which according the the historical marker at the entrance to the parking lot was the house where Stonewall Jackson died.

In spite of the fact that all signs indicated that the "shrine" was closed, I tried the door anyway, and to my surprise it was unlocked. I went in thinking a park ranger must still be there. But got no response to my "Hello, anybody home?  

So, feeling like I really shouldn't be doing this, I became my own "tour director."  The room where

Bed where Stonewall died

Jackson died was well marked, indicating that the Clock, the meager furniture and the bed were all original and in their original positions.

It was in this room, and this bed, where Jackson uttered his famous "last words:+

“Order A.P. Hill to prepare for action! Pass the infantry to the front rapidly! Tell Major Hawks”—then stopped, leaving the sentence unfinished. Presently a smile of ineffable sweetness spread itself over his pale face, and he said quietly, and with an expression, as if of relief, “Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the trees.”

Suddenly, I heard a voice from behind me say,

"The South lost the war when he died."

Startled is not a strong enough word to describe my reaction at that moment. I turned and saw another tourist who apparently had arrived after me that I had not noticed before. He was a tall man, about 40 years old, sporting a short beard. I said something inane like, "Oh....I didn't realize you were here...." Whereupon he repeated his belief that "The South lost the war the day Jackson died."

That's all he said.

He obviously felt very strongly about that. I could tell from his eyes....intense....yes, intense...maybe a little wild....

Perhaps he's a bit drunk, I thought. Whatever, it was I was not comfortable, so I made my way out of that house as quickly and as gracefully as I could. After all, how long can you stare at an empty bed.

Besides...I couldn't get "those eyes"....those wild blue eyes...out of my mind. Also, those chills I often get at Civil War sites were working overtime.

A Ghost?  No. I don't believe in ghosts.





But, as I pulled out of the small parking lot...I did notice that there were no other cars there.

I guess he walked.

-Ed

So Long, Pluto

Clyde Tombaugh

As the spaceship New Horizons sinks slowly in the West, we say goodbye to the once proud planet Pluto (now but a mere Planetoid) and "Hello" to whatever else it can find way out there in the Kuiper belt.

Venetia Burney

Clyde Tombaugh was the young astronomer who discovered "Planet X"in 1930 (which was what it was called
until 11 year old Venetia Burney suggested the name "Pluto," to her father, who's good friend was a member of the astronomers in charge of naming planets.)

Pluto's Moiuntains

Clyde was on that New Horizons spaceship, by the way.  At least some of his ashes were. Information from this mission will be downloading for the next 9 months, so there may be a lot of "surprises" from the "by pass" of Pluto yet to come.  But two are already apparent:  there are mountains on Pluto, and there are no craters, such as those which are found on all the other planets. Scientists will have to come up with some explanation for that.

NASA  New Horizons Team

My hat's off to the NASA people who made this space mission so successful, and my eternal thanks to them for helping take my mind off  the mission here on earth by our President and Congress to............(fill in the blank)


And just in case, there are a few Americans left who are paying any attention at all to our out of control Government, a new diversion has just been introduced to the public:

Adult Coloring Books!

Adult Coloring Book

-Ed

An Oldie, But Goodie

With this nation's birthday coming up, I think it's a good time to "re-play" this classic from 1973.

This is about the country we grew up in, and loved.

The Americans

This editorial was broadcast from Toronto by Gordon Sinclair on 5 June 1973 as the United States was withdrawing from Vietnam. 

"This Canadian thinks it is time to speak up for the Americans as the most generous and possibly the least appreciated people on all the earth. Germany, Japan and, to a lesser extent, Britain and Italy were lifted out of the debris of war by the Americans who poured in billions of dollars and forgave other billions in debts. None of these countries is today paying even the interest on its remaining debts to the United States. When the franc was in danger of collapsing in 1956, it was the Americans who propped it up, and their reward was to be insulted and swindled on the streets of Paris. I was there. I saw it.

"When earthquakes hit distant cities, it is the United States that hurries in to help. This spring, 59 American communities were flattened by tornadoes. Nobody helped. The Marshall Plan and the Truman Policy pumped billions of dollars into discouraged countries. Now newspapers in those countries are writing about the decadent, war-mongering Americans.

"I'd like to see just one of those countries that is gloating over the erosion of the United States dollar build its own airplane. Does any other country in the world have a plane to equal the Boeing Jumbo Jet, the Lockheed Tri-Star, or the Douglas DC-10? If so, why don't they fly them? Why do all the International Airlines except Russia fly American planes? Why does no other land on earth even consider putting a man or woman on the moon?

"You talk about Japanese technocracy, and you get radios. You talk about German technocracy, and you get automobiles. You talk about American technocracy, and you find men on the moon — not once, but several times — and safely home again.

"You talk about scandals, and the Americans put theirs right in the store window for everybody to look at. Even their draft-dodgers are not pursued and hounded. They are here on our streets, and most of them, unless they are breaking Canadian laws, are getting American dollars from ma and pa at home to spend here.

"When the railways of France, Germany and India were breaking down through age, it was the American who rebuilt them. When the Pennsylvania Railroad and the New York Central went broke, nobody loaned them an old caboose. Both are still broke. I can name you 5000 times when the Americans raced to the help of other people in trouble. Can you name me even one time when someone else raced to the Americans in trouble? I don't think there was outside help even during the San Francisco earthquake.

"Our neighbors have faced it alone, and I'm one Canadian who is damned tired of hearing them get kicked around. They will come out of this thing with their flag high. And when they do, they are entitled to thumb their nose at the lands that are gloating over their present troubles. I hope Canada is not one of those.

Stand proud, Americans!"


Sinclair published two autobiographies,  Will the Real Gordon
Sinclair Please Stand Up was published in 1966, followed in 
1975 by a sequel, Will Gordon Sinclair Please Sit Down.

Gordon Sinclair passed away in 1984.

-Ed

Household Words

William Shakespeare

ED: How many times did you quote Shakespeare today?
Two, three, four?
My guess is...at least three times.

READER: "Well, Ed, your time for the HOME has finally arrived. You've obviously forgotten that we're all plain old down home folks, like you, and have never gone around trying to impress anybody by quoting Shakespeare. We just speak in plain old common household words. Now, all of a sudden, you start talking nonsense....for no rhyme nor reason you claim we go around quoting Shakespeare?  What a sorry sight to observe the sea change in your mental processes. It's high time to get you some help!"

ED: You have just quoted Shakespeare SIX TIMES.

READER:  OK, OK..... Something is rotten in the State of Denmark. The game is up.  What the Hell are you talking about?

ED:  You just did it again. Twice.

 I came across a site on the Internet that listed all of the common sayings and cliches that we use in our every day conversations that originated (or were popularized by) with William Shakespeare. It's amazing.

Take a look:

Shakespeare's phrases grouped by play:

A Midsummer Night's Dream
As You Like It
Hamlet
Macbeth

Full list of Shakesperian phrases:

A countenance more in sorrow than in anger

A Daniel come to judgement

A dish fit for the gods

A fool's paradise

A foregone conclusion

A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse

A ministering angel shall my sister be

A plague on both your houses

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet

A sea change

A sorry sight

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety

Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio

All corners of the world

All of a sudden

All one to me

All that glitters is not gold / All that glisters is not gold

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players

All's well that ends well

An ill-favoured thing sir, but mine own

And shining morning face, creeping like a snail unwillingly to school

And thereby hangs a tale

As cold as any stone

As dead as a doornail

As good luck would have it

As merry as the day is long

As pure as the driven snow

At one fell swoop

Bag and baggage

Be all and end all

Beast with two backs

Beware the ides of March

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks

Brevity is the soul of wit

But screw your courage to the sticking-place

But, for my own part, it was Greek to me

Come the three corners of the world in arms

Come what come may

Comparisons are odorous

Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war

Dash to pieces

Discretion is the better part of valour

Double, double toil and trouble, fire burn, and cauldron bubble

Eaten out of house and home

Et tu, Brute

Even at the turning of the tide

Exceedingly well read

Eye of newt and toe of frog, wool of bat and tongue of dog

Fair play

Fancy free

Fie, foh, and fum, I smell the blood of a British man

Fight fire with fire

For ever and a day

Frailty, thy name is woman

Foul play

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears

Good men and true

Good riddance

Green eyed monster

Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings

He will give the Devil his due

Heart's content

High time

His beard was as white as snow

Hoist by your own petard

Hot-blooded

Household words

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child

I bear a charmed life

I have not slept one wink

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips

I will wear my heart upon my sleeve

If music be the food of love, play on

In a pickle

In my mind's eye, Horatio

In stitches

In the twinkling of an eye

Is this a dagger which I see before me?

It beggar'd all description

It is meat and drink to me

Lay it on with a trowel

Lie low

Like the Dickens

Lily-livered

Love is blind

Make your hair stand on end

Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues we write in water

Milk of human kindness

Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows

More fool you

More honoured in the breach than in the observance

Much Ado about Nothing

My salad days

Neither a borrower nor a lender be

Night owl

No more cakes and ale?

Now is the winter of our discontent

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo

Off with his head

Oh, that way madness lies

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more

Out of the jaws of death

Pound of flesh

Primrose path

Rhyme nor reason

Salad days

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything

Screw your courage to the sticking place

Sea change

Send him packing

Set your teeth on edge

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Short shrift

Shuffle off this mortal coil

Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark

Star crossed lovers

Stiffen the sinews

Stony hearted

Such stuff as dreams are made on

The be all and end all

The course of true love never did run smooth

The crack of doom

The Devil incarnate

The game is afoot

The game is up

The quality of mercy is not strained

The Queen's English

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune

The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on

There's method in my madness

Thereby hangs a tale

This is the short and the long of it

This is very midsummer madness

This precious stone set in the silver sea, this sceptered isle

Though this be madness, yet there is method in it

Thus far into the bowels of the land

To be or not to be, that is the question

To gild refined gold, to paint the lily

To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub

Too much of a good thing

Truth will out

Under the greenwood tree

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown

Up in arms

Vanish into thin air

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers

We have seen better days

Wear your heart on your sleeve

What a piece of work is man

What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet

When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions

Where the bee sucks, there suck I

While you live, tell truth and shame the Devil!

Who wooed in haste, and means to wed at leisure

Wild goose chase

Woe is me



What a piece of work this man was!

-Ed

Pluto

Even as the mysteries of the dwarf planet CERES have yet to be explained, here comes another space probe that may turn out to be even more mysterious than CERES!

The mission was launched in 2006 and is called NEW HORIZONS and in about two weeks, for about a half hour,  it will take close up pictures of PLUTO!

That is, if they can find it.

Say what?

"If they can find it."

You mean after spending all that money (265 million dollars) and time (it was launched on January 19, 2006) and goes all that way (4.7 Billion miles) when they finally get "there"...they might not be able to FIND Pluto?

Yep, that's true.

According to an article in Nature magazine,

“Everything is pushed to the extreme,” says Bobby Williams, an engineer at KinetX Aerospace in Simi Valley, California, who heads the mission’s navigation team.  New Horizons must slip by just 12,500 kilometres above Pluto, a distance dictated by the spacecraft’s speed — nearly 14 kilometres per second — and how quickly it can rotate its instruments to look at the surface below. It must accomplish this manoeuvre even as Pluto dances a complex shimmy through space, pulled by the gravitational tug of its largest moon, Charon. After that closest approach, New Horizons must continue on a precise path into the shadows of both Pluto and Charon, for its sole chance to look back and explore atmospheres on those worlds.There is only one shot. “It’s not like an orbiter, where if you miss a day’s science you can make it up later,” says Williams.

If the probe does find PLUTO, NASA says we should expect

 to see Images sharp enough to resolve surface features

 as small as 200 feet across.  "If there is a football stadium on

 Pluto, NEW HORIZONS

 will spot it."


Back here on Earth, I'm still trying to solve a mystery that has

 puzzled me since the early 1940's.


What's the difference between PLUTO

and GOOFY?


-Ed