You just never know

The recent terrorist attacks in Paris and elsewhere caused me, as I’m sure it did many people, to think back to the attacks on our soil in 2001.  We were in Las Vegas at the time. (I told how I heard about the event on an anniversary -- see posting “Nine Eleven” of September 11, 2012).

We had taken quite a bit of cash to gamble with and were lucky to bring a lot of it back with us. A week later after we finally got home (that’s a whole ‘nother story), I was counting the money, preparatory to putting it back in the bank, when I came across what I described at the time as “the weirdest thing.” 

There was a $100 bill that had been stamped with your basic rubber stamp, on the back, on the short edge – exactly where one would endorse a check. It must somehow have gotten mixed in with some checks or something, but that wasn't the weird part.  The weird part was what the stamp said:

DA AFGHANISTAN BANK, KABUL

By that time there were more details coming out about the terrorists who flew the planes, and it was said they had spent time in Las Vegas some days or weeks before the attacks. We debated about what, if anything, to do about it, and finally I called the FBI.

The local number I found switched me to the FBI office in Detroit. I felt kind of stupid, but the agent I talked to was very nice.  He asked where I got the bill, and I couldn’t tell him, of course.  I said it could have come from any of the casinos in which I had played blackjack, at least fifteen of them.

He said there was no way to trace it if I couldn’t say exactly where it came from, and I apologized for wasting his time, but it is of note, I think, that during our brief conversation he said, “That’s really interesting,” three times.

I agree.  Very interesting.

A Grave Mistake

Long about 12 years ago, my partner (then, now wife) Judy Brown and I traveled to Findlay, Ohio, for a couple days to see what we could dig up about her family, genealogically speaking. We did some research in the local library, finding that quite a few of her forebears were buried at Maple Grove Cemetery, so we drove over to have a look.

The woman at the cemetery office was very nice and, having everything on computer, was able to provide all the information we wanted for the people on our list. Then we went out to see and photograph the tombstones.

Near the family plots, we found this:

Paul and Ethel were not on our list, but JB remembered that her grandmother had a sister, one Ethel Miller who, according to the grandmother’s obituary we had just read, had married a Tussing – and here they were. JB was sorry to see that her great-aunt’s dates were not complete, showing just “1899 – 19 .” Ethel must have been the last one in the ground and there was nobody to arrange for her year of death to be added.

JB felt so bad about it, in fact, that we went back to the cemetery office to ask when Ethel died (1959) and to see what it would involve and what it would cost to have the date added to the marker.

We were directed to the nearest monument dealer, which was more or less across the street.  There we talked to a fellow named Dave who appeared a little bemused by the idea, since the woman had already been dead 45 years, but he talked to his stone carver, and they decided that for $92.00 plus tax, we could have “59” added to the “19” on Ethel’s tombstone. We would have paid up front, but Dave said it might be a few weeks before they got around to it; they'd send us a bill.

The next day we went back to the library to do more searching, and JB unearthed the obituary of Ethel I. Tussing of Findlay, Ohio, widow of Paul E., which gave her parents’ names (including the mother’s maiden name), and armed with that information, JB was able to determine with complete certainty that this woman was absolutely no relation to her whatsoever. I dug around a little more and found that her real great-aunt Ethel was married to William Tussing and was buried in Toledo.

When we got home the next day, I called Dave at the monument company and cancelled our order. Dave laughed when I told him why.

So, are they ducks, or not?

In a crossword puzzle I was working this morning there was a clue ("note regarding a debt") the answer to which was IOU, as in, I owe you some money. It seemed to me that I O U fits right in with the current sort of text-speak that uses single letters for words, but it was centuries ahead of its time.  The first known use, according to at least two dictionaries, was in or around 1795, and someone pointed out that I O U can be found in a mid-19th-century novel by Dickens.

So much of text-speak involves acronyms, such as YOYO for "you're on your own" and the ubiquitous LOL ("laughing out loud"). Also nothing new. ASAP has been used in business for decades, and any genealogist whose research antedates the Internet knows what SASE means ("self-addressed stamped envelope").

There is also the use of numbers for words, as in B4 for "before." At least 50 years ago, somebody wrote in my high school yearbook, "2 good 2 be 4gotten."   So that's not new either.

The single-letter words are probably my favorite.

Where R U going
Home
Y
2 P
K

And I won't even guess how long this has been around:

A B, U C M ducks?
L M R N O ducks.
O S M R ducks. I C M P N.
L I B.  M R ducks.

And with that, all I can say is YOYO.