Stodghill Says So

An opinionated posting on a variety of subjects by a former newspaper reporter and columnist whose daily column was named best in Indiana by UPI. The Blog title is that used in his high school sports predictions for the Muncie Evening Press.

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Location: Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, United States

At the age of 18 I was a 4th Infantry Division rifleman in the invasion of Normandy, then later was called back for the Korean War. Put in a couple of years as a Pinkerton detective. Much of my life was spent as a newspaper reporter, sports writer and daily columnist. Published three books on high school sports in Ohio and Indiana. I write mystery fiction for Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine and others. Three books, Normandy 1944 - A Young Rifleman's War, The Hoosier Hot Shots, and From Devout Catholic to Communist Agitator are now available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble and other booksellers. So are four collections of short mysteries: Jack Eddy Stories Volumes 1 and 2, Midland Murders, and The Rough Old Stuff From Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine.

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Saturday, April 25, 2009

Weary, Wasted and Worn

It was 81 yesterday and is 82 today. Oppressive heat that drains all life and ambition from me. Could we bring back winter, please?
I don't mind the heat until it hits 75 or above. Then it wipes me out. I shudder whenever covering Cincinnati Reds spring training in Tampa comes to mind. The March heat was unbearable.
Upstate New York had the ideal climate when we lived in the village of Cooperstown. Even in July we'd build a fire when sitting on the patio in evening. I liked the standing joke when winter tourists would ask what we did in the summer: "If it falls on a Sunday we have a picnic."
Many evenings were spent at the Vet's Club shared by the Legion and VFW. When one had a dinner, the other would do the cooking and serving. We'd sit at the bar because there was always interesting conversation. The people there were the most informed and knowledgeable I have known.
The club in a building built in 1798 was directly across the street from the Baseball Hall of Fame. Just beyond it was the grave of James Fenimore Cooper. Visitors from around the country would stop in the club and often express surprise because New Yorkers were so friendly and nice. They had been led to believe otherwise.
In winter when it was 30 below we'd go out on the ice of Lake Otsego - the Glimmerglass of The Last of the Mohicans and Cooper's other stories - and watch auto racing on a slick track. The lake is the source of the Susquehanna River where there were canoe races in the spring. Sometimes a lone piper would stand where the river begins and play his bagpipe.
It was a wonderful area in the Northern Catskills between the Adirondacks just to the north across the Mohawk River and the Catskills to the south of the point where the Susquehanna sweeps to the west. Deer and bears roamed the densely wooded hills. The Mohawk warpath ran across the upper area of our property on Hannah's Hill.
It was, and is, an area of energetic people who work hard, move fast and accomplish a great deal. Wool sweater and warm jacket country of wondrous beauty. A great place to visit, a better place to live.
If we were there today I'm sure I wouldn't be sweltering in the oppressive heat of 82 degrees. It didn't used to get that hot in the Western Reserve during April. Global warming has a lot to answer for.


Blogger Robert Lopresti said...

In Bellingham we say "Summer is the nicest day of the year." Same joke, I guess.

10:59 PM  
Blogger Dick Stodghill said...

Sounds like my kind of place.

9:02 AM  

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