An Exciting Beach Find!

Lida & Maurice Weidenthal at Euclid Beach July 1911

In the early 1900’s my great grandfather Maurice and his beloved wife Lida spent many of their summer days on the shores of Lake Erie. (Guess the love for Lake Erie and the beach goes way back in my family!) We have pictures of them at Euclid Beach, where there was a popular amusement park and bathing beach. Gotta love those bathing costumes!

Maurice with two unidentified friends and Annie Firth, an aunt, Euclid Beach 1911

Grandfather William's sister Babette Weidenthal Newman, kneeling back row left, with friends - Euclid Beach, 1911

We don't know if the Weidenthals knew what they were going to see at the beach that August day in 1911, but we have pictures of my grandfather with the famous Atwood Biplane, which landed there for a short time.

William Weidenthal posing with Atwood's famous Biplane  - August 1911 Collection:Weidenthal Family

By then, Harry Nelson Atwood, (1884-1967) a student of the Wright brothers, had become one of America's most celebrated aviators.  An exhibition flyer, he stunned New Yorkers with his daredevil flight among Manhattan's skyscrapers and thrilled the country when he landed his biplane on the South Lawn of the White House.

Harry N. Atwood in flight over the south lawn of the White House in a Wright Model B biplane, July 14,1911 (Smithsonian Institution)

Atwood's 1911 record-setting  flights from Boston to Washington and from St. Louis to New York (1265 miles) August 14 to 25, 1911 brought him international fame.  According to newspaper reports of the time, Atwood landed his Wright biplane on Euclid Beach, in Cleveland, Ohio, on Thursday, August 17th, during his cross-country flight from St. Louis to New York City.

Atwood's Biplane 2 minutes after landing at Euclid Beach  Collection:Weidenthal Family

Flying in from Sandusky, Ohio, he first landed at Edgewater Park, in Cleveland, by mistake, but took off, right away, for Euclid Beach, which was his scheduled stop. Immediately after landing on Euclid Beach, around 5:00 p.m., his manager, Leo Stevens, was served with a claim, by the Standard Oil Company, for an unpaid oil and gasoline bill, which resulted in his biplane being held by the police. However, Atwood was able to fly his biplane out of Cleveland, the next day, at 4:03 p.m., after a bond was given for the claim. Though his intended stop was Erie, Pennsylvania, he decided to land, in a cornfield, near Swanville, Pennsylvania, ten miles west of Erie, due to approaching darkness and a loose brace on his biplane.

The noted aviator, was the guest of honor at a dinner in New York, and on the occasion his eloquent reply to a toast on aviation terminated neatly with these words:

"The aeroplane has come at last, but it was a long time coming. We can imagine Necessity, the mother of invention, looking up at a sky all criss-crossed with flying machines, and then saying, with a shake of her old head and with a contented smile: "'Of all my family, the aeroplane has been the hardest to raise.'"

Click here for the NYTimes article about the St Louis-New York flight

Click here to see The Cleveland Memory Project where there are more photos of the Atwood Biplane at Euclid Beach.

Many The Miles

A little story about my Many The Miles seaglass and beach stone necklace.

One day our 21 year old daughter asked us if we were familiar with singer/songwriter Sara Bareilles. Yeah, she knows what we like. We were instantly hooked on Sara's music. (She's a three time Grammy nominee, by the way) Have you seen her on the a capella competition show The Sing-Off? She's one of the judges. Adorable, smart, and oh so very talented.
So my husband is a bit of a musician himself, and one evening while I was working on a new necklace in my studio, he was playing one of our favorite Sara tunes on the piano upstairs.

The necklace turned out to measure more than 60" long and somehow the name "Many The Miles" just seemed to fit. So the necklace was named for Sara's tune. As you can see, there are tiny little silver tags scattered all around the necklace which I can stamp for customers if they ask me to.

A short time later the necklace was purchased through my Etsy shop by a lovely customer in Roumens, France. We'll call her Diane. (Because her name is Diane)  After much back and forth via email with Diane over how to ship the piece to her safely, she asked me where the inspiration for the name of the necklace came from. It seemed so appropriate as it would be traveling MANY the miles to get to her! I told her about the Sara Bareilles tune that gave the necklace it's name and sent her a link so she could listen. She loved it, and said it was the first she'd heard of this performer. What would she like stamped on the 12 little tags on her necklace? Yep. "Many the miles."
Perfect. Done.
Oh, and Sara, if you start to see a spike in your popularity in Roumens, France over the next few months, I think I should get a little of the credit for spreading the word.

Thank You Paul Newman

It was 1974 and I was thirteen years old. My best friend Jacqui and I had recently gone to a screening of the classic 1969 movie “Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid”. We spent some time debating afterward, who was dreamier; Paul Newman or Robert Redford. I believe it was a draw.

Not long after that, my grandparents were over for dinner and I was telling them about the movie I’d seen.

“Ya know,” my grandmother remarked casually, “We are actually related to Paul.”

I was awestruck.

“Do you know him? Have you met him?! How come I didn’t know this?!,” I demanded. I was thinking about my meager autograph collection, which included signatures from Aaron Copland, Carl Stokes and Charles M. Schulz.

“Oh, he’s just another human being, for crying out loud,” my grandfather muttered. (My collection also included a signed photo from Grandpa, just because he seemed rather put out when I hadn’t yet asked him for one.)

“Well your Aunt Bob (Babette Newman, my grandmother’s sister in law) is in touch with him all the time. Why don’t you ask her for his address and write him a letter? I bet he’ll write you back.” encouraged Grandma.

Paul, Aunt Bob Newman,and
Joanne Woodward on the set of Hombre, Tucson 1966

So I did. Aunt Bob was happy to oblige, as long as I promised not to share the address with anyone. I wrote “cousin “ Paul a lengthy letter starting with a paragraph explaining how I got his address and what the connection was. I made sure to ask for a real signed photo because I had recently written to some famous people who’d responded by sending printed “signed” photos.  (Valerie Harper, I am talking to YOU, Rhoda.)

I also remember asking him about whether he and Bob (hey, we were relatives, I could be informal, right?) used stunt doubles when they jumped off that cliff in Butch Cassidy. (Well heck YEAH, ya dumb kid!)

So I sent off my masterpiece and then kind of forgot about it.

I mean, I didn’t REALLY think THE Paul Newman was going to write me a letter, did I!?

Some time later an envelope arrived addressed to me.

Yep. He’d written. I didn’t get answers to my silly pages of questions. But I did get reassurance that the signature was real. I ran all the way to Jacqui’s house to show her my prize that afternoon.

I called Grandma and Grandpa. (Grandpa harrumphed)

In 1986, the year I got married, Paul won the Academy Award for best actor in “The Color of Money”. I wrote him another note. No questions or requests this time.

I just wanted to say, “Congrats, the family is proud of you. No need to write me back this time. Just want to let you know that you made a young girl so very happy when you wrote that nice note a few years back.”

I don’t think I have to tell you about Paul, and his great talent, or many accomplishments, his incredible blue blue eyes, or his work with The Hole in the Wall Gang Camps, or with Newman’s Own.  (Who recently reached the amazing milestone of $300 million in charitable giving.) You know all about that stuff. If not, that’s what google is for.

Just wanted to share my little story.

Thanks Paul. Even though we never met, I do miss you.

Mark Twain & my great grandfather Maurice Weidenthal

With all of the hullaballoo this week over the publishing of a “sanitized’ version of the Mark Twain classic Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, (in which the offensive “N” word has been replaced by the word “slave” throughout the text….) it brought to mind a rather exciting photograph and letter I came across in a box full of papers a few years back. 

Maurice Weidenthal was born in Hungary in 1856, and came to America in 1870. He held various newspaper jobs in Cleveland, including that of reporter for the Herald (which became the News), drama critic and editorial writer for the Cleveland Press, (for whom my father, also named Maurice worked for more than 30 years) and city editor for the Plain Dealer and for the Cleveland Recorder. In 1906 he became the editor of the Jewish Independent, a position he held until his death on July 21, 1917. 

Among the many things my great grandfather accomplished, he appears to have been the secretary for a dramatic organization called The Davenport Club. One day while sorting through old stuff over at my dad's house, I found a cardboard box at the bottom of a closet filled with his grandfather's memorabilia. Two items that caught my eye were a letter and photograph which appeared to be from the esteemed Mark Twain. (Or should I say, Samuel Clemens) Yeah, I know. Mind blowing.

Hartford March 24

Dear Sir:

I desire to express to you my thanks for the compliment you pay me in proposing to make me a member of the Davenport Club of Cleveland. With my best wishes for the long life & prosperity of the Club, I am
Very Truly Yours,

Samuel L. Clemens

Mr M Weidenthal

•••

Seriously??! Holy smokes!!

After coming across this lovely letter and cabinet card with a photo of a gentlemen who looked so very familiar, I wrote a note to the “Mark Twain Project” at The University of California, where they have an enormous library of the author’s papers. They were happy to learn of my discovery, asked for copies, and responded by sending me a scan of a letter which my great grandfather had sent to Samuel L. Clemens on May 8, 1876:

Davenport Club, City 
Cleveland, O., May 8th 1876 

Sam’l L. Clemens Esq.
Dear Sir 
It gives me great pleasure to notify you, that at a meeting held by the Davenport Club you was unanimously elected honorary member. Hoping that we will prove ourselves worthy of the great honor bestowed upon us by your acceptance of the membership I remain your obdt servant

M. Weidenthal Sec.

P.S. Not wishing to insinuate anything, I would like to tell you that just as a matter of information of course, that the walls of our club room contain such photographs as those of E. L. Davenport, Lawrence Barrett, Charles Sumner[,] Edwin Booth &c.

I think a picture of Mark Twain would be a splendid ornament to our room

Yours &c

M. W.

 •••

The Mark Twain Project Assoc. Editor wrote to me:

Dear Mrs. Saltzman:
We have now had a chance to examine Mark Twain's letter of 24 March 1876 to your great grandfather, Maurice Weidenthal. The following sequence of events is clear to us: Probably around mid-March 1876 your great grandfather first wrote to Mark Twain, informing him that the Davenport Club proposed to elect him a member and asking his consent. It was that letter, which does not survive, that Mark Twain answered on 24 March. Then on 8 May 1876 your grandfather wrote again, informing Mark Twain of his election and suggesting that his picture would be a welcome addition to the club's photo gallery. Mark Twain answered with a letter of 13 May, enclosing two photos, one of which presumably was put on display in the club while the other, a print of a photo taken in 1869, was retained by your great grandfather (the one you now have with Mark Twain's 24 March letter).

Unfortunately we do not have Mark Twain's 13 May 1876 letter to your great grandfather. Perhaps you will yet find it in one of your boxes of memorabilia. We only know that it was sent because we have the Davenport Club's 13 June 1876 reply to it, written by Ira C. Cartwright, your great grandfather's successor as secretary of the club. We can send you a copy of Cartwright's letter if you would like to have it.

We would be happy to have any information you could share with us about your great grandfather. Was he the journalist Maurice Weidenthal (died 1917) who was associated with the Cleveland Plain Dealer and in 1906 became editor of the Jewish Independent? Also, do your family records include any information about the Davenport Club? If a club archive has been preserved somewhere, Mark Twain's 13 May 1876 letter to your great grandfather might be in it, along with the photograph that the club apparently displayed.

As it happens, we are now editing Mark Twain's l876 letters for inclusion in the online edition of his letters that we hope to begin posting in the not to distant future. So the 24 March letter to your great grandfather surfaced at a very opportune moment. Of course, we will credit you as the owner of the original document.

Sincerely,

Michael B. Frank
Associate Editor
Mark Twain Project

•••

You can see the items online in the MTP archives by clicking here and here.

Needless to say, these items no longer reside in a musty cardboard box in my dad’s hall closet. 

Next week maybe I’ll tell you about how we came to have Albert Einstein’s and William Jennings Bryan's signatures.

Thanks for dropping by.

-Susan