Back in the 1900's I...

    

My sister, Jonya, and I recently discovered that when we want to share our childhood stories, how we raised our kids, or even teaching career stories that we could start with this line, "Back in the 1900's I did...." It seems to catch the attention of the audience or person facing us.

The funny thing about the 1900's is that it is the PAST and the PAST is like another country. How can we relate?

For instance:

The Norman Transcript carried this story on January 1904.

A Norman  woman walked into the Silver Cliff saloon where her husband was under the influence of drink and invited the men standing around to step up and have something to drink. Instead, the men began to slink off and soon the saloon was almost deserted. The woman brought some sewing with her and expressing herself delighted with the appearance of the place by giving every indication that she might have come to spend the day. 

I can imagine the Tik Tok viewers yelling "You Go Girl." 

 

And then there are the mysterious things that happened in the 1900's, like the barrel of wine that was seized by the county Sheriff from the Catholic Church in Norman. That barrel of wine later turned up missing from the Sheriff's office. Now what could have happened to that sacramental wine?

In 1925 the Miami, Ok News Record gives bold print to this story:

"Large Rural Crowd Hears Girl Preacher"

Miss Ora Stoddard, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. J.P. Stoddard, 39 C street northwest, delivered a sermon Sunday night at the Sunflower school house, two miles east of Welch, Oklahoma.

A large congregation was present, it was reported. About fifteen persons from Miami drove out to hear Miss Stoddard, who is one of the youngest ordained ministers in Oklahoma. 

On September 18, 1925, the Miami News Record (AP) posted a headlines story from New York City:

"Ten Days in Jail for Disrespect to Flag" 

For failure to remove his hat in salute to the flag, John Granetzer, a young Lithuanian, is serving a sentence of 10 days in a Brooklyn jail. He pleaded guilty of disorderly conduct while watching a Mardi Gras parade at Coney Island. Coney gives the name of Mardi Gras to a post season celebration. 

A police sergeant in his complaint averred that when other spectators told him that Granetzer was ignoring the flag, warning was given that his hat must be taken off the next time the flag passed. Granetzer failed to obey the warning, saying, "my flag is the red flag," the sergeant deposed. 

The following June 28, 1958 story in The Daily Oklahoma comes from stories being circulated in the Biltmore hotel by some of the 150 delegates to the Grapho-Analysis regional convention.

Writing Reflects Your Personality

On the basis of certain curlicues in his handwriting, an applicant for a job with an Oklahoma City firm recently was turned down. He wasn't told why, but a specimen of his handwriting showed he had criminal tendencies.

Sure enough, a couple of months later, the fellow was sent up for a stretch in the state penitentiary at McAlester.

Then there was another prison inmate who wrote a letter to a certain philanthropist here pleading for help in gaining his freedom. The letter ended up in the hands of a graphic analyst, a person who analyses handwriting, who found that the writer not only lacked criminal characteristics but had considerable musical ability. 

On the strength of the grapho-analyst's report, the convict gained his release from prison and is currently strumming a guitar with a hill-billy band.

My biggest surprise came with this one quarter page add in 1920’s for a new soda called “Dr. Pepper.” The picture of the old man and the clock showing 10:00, 2:00, and 4:00 gave reason to “Join the Club” and have a Dr. Pepper.

I discovered Dr. Pepper the friendly picker upper while going to college. I think we will put a Dr. Pepper label on my tombstone.

It’s here folks! The big day you’ve been waiting for. Cold, zippy, Dr. Pepper right over the soda fountain or bottle bar. March right up...pay 5 cents…ask for Dr. Pepper and you’ll be a confirmed member of the 10,2 & 4 Club for life.

Everybody’s joining! Every member’s happy! For here’s a drink that hits the spot, and makes the spot stay hit. Girls and men need one at ten. Another’s due, when the clock strikes two, and just at four you need one more.

Wise ones never miss these hours. They say 3-a-day, keeps the energy up…We say it’s nourishment. You N E E D a little bracer at mid-meal hours. Dr. Pepper give it to you in pre-digested form…pure nourishment that is quickly assimilated into the blood. That’s why you feel distinctly refreshed after drinking.

Pure as distilled water, sparkly as a bubbling spring. Licious as mingled juices of fruits and extracts from the Orient and Tropics. 

 

**Footnote** Are they hiding the sugar in the word licious?

In reality back in the 1900's for me begins with American Band Stand and perhaps that's another story. 

 

This Older But Curious Life

Isn't it fun living this older but curious life? 

If COVID taught me anything it was to be playful, not on occasions but everyday. Finding a way to be playful in my life is the easiest aspiration in my life.

Rather than looking at the old woman in the mirror and wondering where the bags under her eyes came from,  I learned to put on makeup everyday, whether I went for a walk or not, whether I might see people or not, whether the mask covered it all or not. I was the one looking in the mirror. 

COVID was a time ago, but recently the bitter cold winter weather has kept many of us inside for more days than we wish to count. Now is the time to search for hearts and flowers not dust and piles of books.

Once again I turned to my jewelry box for color and the light-hearted feelings of playing dress up. I have one pair of mis-matched earrings given to me by Kathy Klopenstein Hale. She is "a jewelry artist" and daughter of my friend and neighbor, Julie, 
who is a landscape artist on canvas. They, each,  have decorated their homes to reflect their curiosities of life and wonder. 

Side by side the earrings are definitely different but with a face in between people only notice the colors.

It's all about perspective and internal laughter. Her jewelry makes me laugh. She might call them 'stunning statements.'

 

This may not show the colors of a Farris Wheel but the unique design is eye-catching for the wearer and the observer. Is this an 'awesome assemblage' or 'steampunk style?'

Matching jewelry likes this brings out a balance that our eyes often seek in presentation and our hearts seek in life. Kathy calls this 'mid-century mod madness.' I laugh at my memories of that other century--a few decades ago.

Sometimes we only want to make a simple statement like I have a secret  I may share with you if....

Find this gem under "Neo-Victorian Niceties."

Today the sun is shiny and bright in my corner room. From my perch by  the window green stems standing tall in the brown leaves tell me that the daffodil bulbs have survived the bitter cold. Before long bright yellow colors will fill our garden and shades of green will be highlighted by the golden sun. That's how I see her jewelry, as an extension of myself and my curiosity.

How do you see jewelry? How long has it been since you played dress up?

Lucky for me, I can call ahead and drive over to her house to browse her art room for a new unique piece. You can browse her jewelry and clothing designs without ever leaving your comfy chair and warm blanket by following this link to By Kat Designs

 

Detective Who? Watt?

Does anyone other than myself remember the fatal crash of a P38 Lightning airplane crashing north of Jefferson grade school? (Glenn Smith  on Facebook)

February 2020 was the last date of my files on Jefferson Elementary (Norman, Ok.) history before Covid. 

During Covid I made a promise to finish my Miami Ok. Golf and Country Club history story, and I did. That also meant that I could not concentrate on two aspects of history at the same time, even though I continued to collect trivia and newspaper clippings about Norman and Jefferson. This history brain doesn't forget when there is an unsolved question.

What parachute? Where did it land? Why can no one find an answer? 

That question hung in the back of my historical, sometimes hysterical, brain until January of 2025. 

Notice the treeless prairie in this 1894 original landsite of Eastside school, later renamed Jefferson in 1916 after the building mysteriously burned to the ground, and was replaced. 

It took until January 2025 before a small team of teachers could once again gather to complete a project started in 1984--to finish the history of the original landsite school in Norman, Oklahoma where I was the librarian. With the help from Dr. Kathy Taber, Sallie Kennedy and Carol Upchurch we have a plan in place to compile and publish this fascinating time in Norman, Oklahoma. 

Jefferson is the original landsite school with enough history to fill a thick book. Like other buildings of its time, 1894, the three-story structure was known to lean and wobble with spring winds of Oklahoma. The first floor of stone work came out of the Rock Creek bed north of this landsite on the corner of East Gray and Cockrell. 

It housed grades 1-12. After statehood, Norman began to grow and needed more classroom space.  In 1914 this thinly clad red brick and stone building mysteriously burned to the ground by some bad people.  A sturdier structure was built and opened for classrooms in 1916. The north and south wings of that structure still stand and have been reconfigured several times over the decades. 

This is the only picture we have found of the structure from 1918--1958 when the middle part was torn down leaving the north and south wings. The playground would have been a large area behind and surrounding this building and very few houses on the north side which is the right side of this picture. 

From research in 2019 through elicited memories on Facebook about The History of Norman, I copied this paragraph: 1944 Lee Hester--That information puts me back to 7th grade in Jefferson school where I imagined seeing a parachute coming down. 

For the last few weeks I have read over nearly everything we have collected and found nothing about that parachute. My handwritten note to self, read, "Where is the rest of this story? It was collected in 2019?" 

Recently, I discovered how to research on Facebook. It is not that easy but better than sitting for hours at the Ok. History Museum Archives reading microfilm. 

At last I found this clip on The History of Norman on Facebook.

The replies meandered for days and weeks. Piece by piece I found significant proof that Mr. Hester must have seen a parachute falling from the sky.  Here is the rest of the story.

Debbie 

My dad wad a little boy and he would tell us stories about a plane crash about 1945, but was north of Wilson school. North of Robinson. His mom let his older brother walk up to see it, but said my dad was to young. My uncle found what looked like the tongue of a boot with blood on it. We have tried to research but can never find anything.

Thomas 

If it is the one that crashed during the war where the copilot was riding piggyback and didn’t reject. I remember my mom and I were on the main street by the Palace garage and vaguely remember hearing about that at that time. Didn’t know where it crashed. I was only about three or four years old.

 Glenn Smith

At the time of the crash a parachute was seen descending so one of the pilots did eject. The reason that I said that it was a fatal accident was because a friend and I rode our bicycles out to view the crash site after the authorities had done their thing and we found Little Things like a label out of a sweater collar and actually some flesh. After a fatal crash medical people gather up the bodies and everything else as well they can but they don't get everything. Many years ago I went on a crash investigation of a B-52 in New York state. The plane was flying at low level over a landing strip when something went wrong, and it crashed into the woods and burned. Most of the crew perished but the copilot managed to survive. When we went through the debris looking for technical evidence for the cause of crash, I found a hand with a wrist watch still around the wrist. 

Thomas F.  to Glenn Smith

I think I think what I remember is correct… That a guy riding piggyback was not able to reject and died in the crash. 

Steve 

I remember talking to a retired Norman firefighter in the early 1970's. He told me that he was at the P-38 crash in 1945-46 He said that the plane had crashed nose first in to the ground at the edge of a small pond and left a big smoking hole in the ground. He told me that 2 men were killed in the crash, me being a smart 11 year old boy I let the gentleman know that the P38 was a single seat aircraft. He told me that the plane was at Tinker AFB for some work and had the radio equipment removed from behind the pilots seat. This made just enough room for the pilots buddy to hitch that final ride. I recall the plane that crashed was the F-4 version, of the P-38E in which the guns were replaced by four K17 cameras. It was not ever clear to me where the plane crash was.

Larry 

I think the P-38 crash you are talking about happened on May 4th or 5th, 1945. The crash site was on my Great Grandparent's farm on the SE corner of Tecumseh Rd. and NE 12th (Sooner Rd). The plane went into a small pond and supposedly the engines areas still buried there. My dad saw it go down from Moore.

Bill Lessly to Larry

The pond was on the south side of NE Rock Creek Road between 12th and 24th. My Dad told me about the crash. I used to swim in that pond back in the 1970’s. The crash happened 11 years before I was born. Our farm was 3 or so miles NE from the pond.

Apparently, Glenn Smith felt as frustrated over this crash info as I did. He used the Daily Oklahoma and found the story, the true story about the parachute high in the sky that the kids saw one day while they were outside playing at Jefferson. The parachute would have landed about two miles north of the school grounds. In 1944 there would not have been big neighborhoods of houses, cars, buildings to the north.

PLANE CRASH KILLS

WILL ROGERS FLIER 

January 21, 1944 the Daily Oklahoman 

Crash of a P-38 one and one-half miles northeast of Norman,  Thursday morning fatally injured Lt. Harry G. Kirk, 22 of New York City. The plane burst into flames and was destroyed. Col. B.S. Thompson, commanding officer of Will Rogers field announced.  

Capt. Vernon E. Black, Madera, Calif. parachuted to safety and sustaining only slight bruises and minor shock. Capt. Black's temporary home is at 2014 N.W. 12.

Cause of the crash was being investigated Thursday night by a board of air force officers. Kirk's mother, Mrs. Frances Kirk of New York City, was notified of her son's death.

 

**At this point I jumped up and hollered at my husband. I know where the plane crashed in 1944. It's only a few miles from here.  

I do take breaks away from the computer and it felt good to share my mystery with my husband and then to romp with the dog outside and laugh. 

Lonnie Morris

Hey Glenn, I remember the incident. Our teachers at Jefferson took us outside so that we could see the man in the parachute still on his way down.  

Lockheed P-38 website and credit for photo 

Lee Hester, thanks for your research (Glenn Smith) and the good information. That clears up some things in my mind. The newspaper puts the date at 1944. which puts me back to 7th grade in Jefferson grade school. All the time that I have been thinking about this incident, I have imagined seeing a parachute coming down, but I thought it was my imagination. In a post by Lonnie Morris, he said that he was in Jefferson school when that happened and they took the students outside to watch the parachute coming down. That makes it possible that I really did see a parachute. 

We are the Jefferson Dragons. We symbolize "Power, Wisdom, and Chaos." Right now, we are sorting through the chaos and laughing...laughing and loving every moment of the research expedition into our history. 

Mrs. Watt, Librarian and author

 1978-95

Eating Fried Worms

We wondered what it must taste like to eat fried worms, but no one knew the answer. 

After reading Rockwell's How To Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell, one student stepped up and volunteered to eat fried worms for his class. Brad Driver became a hero in the eyes of his peers that day. 

Ellen Ryan volunteered to help me fry the worms. One Friday in February 1985, I bought big juicy fishing worms from the Bait Shop on Alameda and Cockrell St. in Norman, Ok.  We set up the experiment in the Jefferson School Library, using a  borrowed travel stove top, we added oil to a pot. When the grease began to steam we one by one dropped slimy wiggly worms into the hot grease. 

Brad Driver, Ellen Ryan, and Mrs. Watt

Ellen and I nearly fainted as we watched the worms wiggle and struggle to pop out of the grease. For several years I carried a grease burn on my right arm when one worm flew out of the grease and landed on my arm!  There was gasping in the audience of fourth graders. The screams were held chest tight until Brad Driver took his first bite and swallowed. 

Suddenly, screams of delight and fear echoed through the 4,000 square foot library, ceiling to floor and more than likely out the door. 

One bite and Brad continued until a half dozen crispy curly friend worms, without ketchup or mustard, went down his throat. His mother, Mary Ann Driver made sure to attend this daring act of her son's. She also provided a permission slip for Brad's menu, written on a napkin :)

The fourth grade teachers, our principal, Pat Wiggins, and a few district administrators along with two classrooms of students watching gave Brad a standing ovation that morning. 

Our question still remained. What did a worm taste like. After the applause, one hand waved and asked, "What did it taste like, Brad?" 

"Mushy sticky dirt!" Brad replied with a smile across his face. 

No one was disappointed, and the aarghs and ughs continued until the library was empty of students. Where upon in the dead of winter, I opened the outside door to allow the aroma of fried worms to filter into the fresh air. 

*With the onset of winter I looked around the house for a project. First, I found tubs and notebooks of papers, stories, ideas, notes, and recipes. I took the time to go through one tub and ended up trashing every sheet of paper. The next few plastic containers did not get my full attention. I simply carried them outside to the recycle bin and tossed. Note to self: I haven't missed a sheet. 

I relaxed and patted myself on the shoulders, having been uplifted by the papers now being recycled instead of collecting dust. 

One box and several scrapbooks stopped me. Memories and pictures of library events and teaching from 1972--2008 faced me. By the end of January of 2025, I was ready to accept the challenge to complete what had been started in 1984, added to immensely in 1994, neglected until 2018-2019, then stalled by COVID on February 20, 2020.

This year in mid-January our Jefferson Elementary team of Sallie Kennedy, Carol Upchurch, Kathy Taber, and I began the journey again to complete the collection of stories and memorabilia from 1894-to 2019--The 125-year history of our school. 

After all we are the Jefferson Dragons. We symbolize "Power, Wisdom, and Chaos." Right now, we are sorting through the chaos and laughing...laughing and loving every moment of the expedition. 

As you follow along with us through Literally Letty, I hope you find our history a little bit like your history, filled with joy and sorrow, uplifting moments and drops in disbelief, positive thoughts sharing space with the negative, and celebrations along with disappointments. In the end, I believe that good actions, good deeds, kind words, positive thoughts, and team work make this world a better place. 

And it never hurts to have a lot of guts to step out of your comfort zone and do something amazing, even if it is eating six fried worms. 

 

Observations at Ground Level

My walk-in closet is spacious enough to tuck and hide objects under and behind my hanging clothes. Tall enough to toss suitcases, bags of puppets, boxes for mailings, and pillows, more pillows than any two people need!  It also has room for a chair, a laundry basket, and wrapping paper neatly held in a tall, clean trash plastic bucket.

On Friday I bent down on all fours to crawl around and look for a doggie toy that seemed to be missing. That's when I observed the laundry basket. Curious about its contents I picked out a pair of jeans, a long sleeve shirt, a turtleneck winter top, a pair of pajamas, quite a few underparts, and a few towels. 

There's nothing impressive about that observation except for the fact that I wash dirty clothes on Monday. This week I washed sheets. The End.

Whatever distraction came my way I did not wash clothes. So, what! 

My observation delivered this deduction.  A full week and a half had passed without me washing dirty clothes and I still didn't have enough dirty clothes to merit washing. What was wrong with this picture? In the summer I often wash my clothes at least twice a week and sometimes shower twice a day rather than twice a week, as I do in the winter.  

Off my hands and knees by now, I sat down in the painted wooden chair to ponder this grand insightful moment. Ha. The fact is that I must be wearing the same warm clothes day after day in the winter. When I am not out walking, visiting neighbors, playing golf, digging in my garden, or eating lunch with friends I don't dirty my clothes, and besides jeans are always softer the longer I wear them. Apparently, I don't work up a sweat in the winter. I no longer wear my gym clothes or my yoga clothes.  I live in pajamas by night and a pair of jeans with warm tops by day.

Life is really quite simple in the winter. 

I may learn to love and respect winter for its rather mundane lifestyle. 

My second major observation came this morning while visiting the public library. I set my bag of papers and books, billfold, cell phone, lipstick, pencils and pens, and empty vitamin bottles (to be replaced on my next errand to the health food store) on the table. Instantly the bag fell open and scattered the contents.  To my embarrassment the pill bottles raced for the front door, my papers slid in different directions, my books did flips in the air, a piece of candy rolled under a book cart, loose change disappeared and pencils and pens scattered to the wind. 

In a jiffy I found myself crawling on the tile floor frantically picking up the nearby books, billfold, papers, but  the rolling pill bottles and items presented a new problem. Do I keep crawling across the floor or get up ladylike and walk over casually to pick them up?

As I began to pull my knees in so I could gather myself and stand, I glanced around knee high to my surroundings. There I observed persons walking all around: one with a limp, one with stiff leg, one person barefoot in sandals, a man with worn and dirty shoes, a woman in a dress below her knees and a pair of kick-ass boots, and two little girls in shinny tiny boots, colorful tights, tiny skirts, and frilly sweaters giggling, jumping and running in all directions. Before I could pull my stiff hips and tight hamstrings to a standing positions all items had been picked up and returned to the table. 

I stood myself up with a thank you smile on my face and a good laugh out loud with everyone's help. I sat down in a hard cold plastic chair to analyze what I had observed. Like a stroke of a magic wand, people of all ages came together to help me with something of no consequences in life's journey, except to show little acts of kindness. 

No act of kindness

No matter how small is ever wasted.  (Aesop)

P.S. To Marilyn Smith and Sue Donnelly, I can never match your amazing abilities to observe life and people, but I can learn from you.  Please keep sharing your observations of life with all of us on social media.  

Readers in the Rough--Recommended Books for 2025

Books read, reviewed, discussed and enjoyed in the calendar year of 2024.

Voted a PAR=2 points

Our discussion over the HITCHHIKERS GUIDE TO THE GALAXY by Douglas Adams (in January 2024) took most of us "completely out of our comfort zone" of reading and relating to plot. Science Fiction is not a genre that our book club selects.  This book prevailed and, in the discussion, we began to realize the strength of the plot, character development and delight with the change of settings.

 Our eyes were opened as we discovered that one of us deeply enjoyed the story and shared her tales of reading it several decades ago and now reading it again.  We understood the theme "searching for the meaning of life"  but not necessarily the character's approach to answering the question.  It did receive a PAR for its perspective and plot.   

To better explain our "golf terminology and voting" think of a scale of 1-5 with 5 being the best and you would recommend it to any type of reader or a Hole-In-One, and a 1 being a bogey that you may or may not recommend to others to read. 

With that we began our year reading, discussing, and deciding on our one important vote for books.

HOLE-IN-ONE

THE RIDE OF HER LIFE THE TRUE STORY OF A WOMAN, HER HORSE, AND THEIR LAST CHANCE JOURNEY ACROSS AMERICAN by Elizabeth Letts took us on one of the greatest journeys we've ever taken through the power of literature. I cannot imagine how a 200-pound woman could ride across America on horseback from the Atlantic to the Pacific in 1954 without a map. Her fortitude and strength of character never let us down. Her journey provides us with a glimpse of her faith in America and the world in 1954 and how we treated a total stranger on horseback with kindness. 

She well deserved a HOLE-IN-ONE rating for 5 points. 

EAGLE: This is one of the strongest years to have so many excellent books that could have been rated Hole-in-Ones except for a point or one-half a point. 

THE HEAVEN AND EARTH GROCERY STORE by James McBride brings together the strength of a community that bonds, no matter the color of skin, the religious background or the amount of money one has. They all share a common core of caring for our brothers and sisters. Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned for all of us in the century. 

SHELTERWOOD by Lisa Wingate takes us to southeastern Oklahoma during some of the darkest times, when mankind shared no love, no kindness, and cast-off children who learned to survive on their own in the cold darkness of the Washita mountains. This story from the 1900's couldn't be more opposite in the theme than what I like to read. However, a woman and then women begin to take hold of the story and we see how characters, both real and imagined, step up to save the lives of innocent people during the relentless race to own the land that has oil underneath. 

No, I do not like reading stories like this, but I recognize the value they carry for us today. I respect the research, plot and character development to make this a compelling story that I could not put down. 

 

TRUST is a story structured around three very different points of view. This trickster puzzle unfolds like the Japanese phenomenon that describes how different people can have different, contradictory stories about the same event.  This technique called the Rashomon effect is often used to highlight how unreliable eye- witnesses testimony can be.  

It begins with an affluent Manhattan couple who ask people to trust them with their money as Benjamin Rask makes shady deals that keep them affluent during the crash of 29 but plunge their investors into poverty. 

The next two points of view make the reader sit back and think. It is not a quick read nor a compelling plot, but it does challenge the reader to solve the question of who is telling the truth of the story.  

THE WOMEN by Kristen Hannah vividly portrays the war in Vietnam from a woman, Frankie, who in 1965 joins the Army Nurse Corps and ships out to Vietnam. Her gut crushing front line experience overwhelmed her and added to the chaos and destruction dropping her to her knees. Her sheer determination pulls the reader through the war.

It is the story after the war that struck a cord with me, a high school graduate of 1965, who lost friends and classmates to the war, and who saw our boys come home damaged and foully treated by the people they fought for. The women in Frankie life experience the same rejection in their attempt to reintegrate into society. As in real life it is the friendship that rescue and endure these nurses.  

THESE PRECIOUS DAYS essays by Ann Patchett, once again pushed us out of our comfort zone. We each read and reported on at least one of the stories that moved us. Through Patchett's speeches and reflections on life the reader discovers the depth of this author's life and influences her readers. Writing Out Loud--Ann Patchett

BIRDIE VOTES: these books each held something different for the readers to enjoy and grasp. Sunflowers using Vincent Van Gogh's life as a jumping off point; The Library Book, the story of the LA Library fire in 1986, has taken on new meaning with the destructive fires in southern California this winter. The library barely withstood a disastrous fire that reached 2000 degrees consuming four thousand books and damaging even more. It also brought a community  together to save and rebuild a vital institution of their city. 

Osman's book and then series of The Thursday Murder Club provided us with a high-spirited discussion on the who dunnit level. We fell in love with these senior citizens, Elizabeth, Joyce, Ibrahim, and Ron, who pushed the envelope on the value of the creative and energetic mind of an aging population and all with a sense of humor and perspective. After three of our book club members confessed to having read another two or three of the titles even before we discussed the first one, I found myself ordering all three remaining titles on my Kindle and reading nothing else till I finished them. These mysteries provided a great escape that made me smile and laugh. 

PAR (We set the bar with a par rating.) The Birdie's, Eagles and Hole-in-Ones must be stronger in plot, character development, setting, theme, writing style, point-of-view and/or entertainment level.

THE HITCHHIKERS GUIDE TO THE GALAXY by Adams

THE CLIFF'S EDGE by Charles Todd is a murder mystery to be solved by nurse Bess Crawford. There lies a dark truth behind two once close families as they take sides after a murder is committed.  

We had earlier read No Shred of Evidence, an Ian Rutledge Scotland Yard investigator, and liked it enough to select another book in this mystery series. They are most certainly worthy of a good round of pars. 

Charles Todd's writing reflects the team of Charles and Caroline Todd, a mother-and-son writing team who have created the Inspector Rutledge and nurse, Bess Crawford series. Who is Charles Todd?

In golf and in reading we all can relate to or enjoy a bogey every now and then. That is why we felt we could still give a bogey book one point. This year we didn't read any books that we didn't think worthy of our time. I, however, made up for the bogey's on the golf course. Hitting more bogeys year after year seems to be a theme in my golf game. 

*If you only have time or energy to read one of these books, may I recommend THE RIDE OF HER LIFE. She will not let you down.