NBC left the International in , and not long afterwards, the former theatre, along with most of its neighbors on Columbus Circle, was razed to make way for the New York Convention Center. And lest we doubt the snob appeal of our fledgling magazine, check out this advertisement from the Mayfair House assuring that tenants will be kept a safe distance from the proles. Skip to content. There they found curators busy reorganizing displays of dinosaurs and various stuffed beasts of the wild: AMNH staff joining head to body of female elephant in Indian Elephant Group, Photo from Andrea Long Bush.
The Broadway play was a resounding success. Somehow, I feel, she would have just gone on practicing. Once in a while our friends give us just the perfect gift. On one of their visits, Marlene had an overflow of guests and she asked me if her Canadian family could stay with me. Maureen and Edwin were no strangers to me, of course. My trips to Toronto always meant having fun with Maureen, and our time together was the main reason I looked forward to taking those trips north of the border. October 28, was the only exception.
The footprints she left throughout all aspects of her life can be best described as those of a gigantic friend. Maureen told me she had prepared a short presentation for the occasion. How appropriate that a wonderful friend to so many started this lovely tradition!
And, as always, she was there. Over time, however, that empty space fills with memories—your own and those of others—renewing and reestablishing that missing friend as a part of you forever. I remember listening to my friend recounting some of her favorite Sherlockian memories and smiling at having shared so many of them. It is with a heavy heart that I read her article now.
Together we climbed the mountains, we sailed the oceans. And we shopped. Maureen and I, that is. Edwin mainly stuck to climbing and sailing. Maureen taught me how to save money.
He always was. As can be expected, she was also a wonderful wife, sister, mother, grandmother, and—for a just a few months—a great grandmother. I am aware of only one instance when Maureen failed as a grandmother. Indirectly, I was responsible. She also bought tickets to four upcoming Yankees games in Toronto. As she explained to me—it was somehow cheaper to buy tickets for four games than for just two. I attended two of the four with Maureen and Max.
Not that I would want to live in such a world. But even with the ones I have, she will be a part of me forever.
She graduated from Hunter College and received her M. Post now LIU Post. Beverly was involved in numerous community organizations. Beverly eventually took charge and continued to hold meetings with the students until her retirement. In the mids, Dave encouraged Beverly and her husband Jerry to attend meetings of Mrs. Beverly became an active member of ASH in the s and chose the investiture of Mrs. Allen , her maiden name.
She loved the camaraderie, the intellectual quality, and general hilarity of Sherlockian meetings and continued her participation until her health began to decline. She will be sadly missed by the Sherlockian community. Beverly is survived by her husband, Jerry, their two children, Ethan and Meesha, and their four grandchildren. It cannot be said of too many people that they were born to be Sherlockians. However, in the case of Eileen Hartsoe Katz this would be an absolutely accurate observation, because Eileen was born one hundred years to the day after the birth of Sherlock Holmes.
It is unimaginable to those of us who knew her that this warm and loving woman will no longer be part of our Sherlockian family.
She officially became a Sherlockian by marriage to Robert S. Scott was best man at their wedding as Bob was at ours. Their three sons, Alexander 10 , Jonathan 8 and C. Eileen was very generous in allowing us to share commonplace as well as special events and activities with the boys and to develop the special relationship we have with them.
Although she was born and raised in North Carolina, there was nothing of the typical Southern belle in Eileen.
She was a strong, highly intelligent woman who never hesitated to speak her mind. Her lovely southern drawl made even our liveliest and, occasionally disputatious, discussions civilized and charming. I will truly miss those discussions and conversations. I will miss just spending time with her. She was genuine, sincere and loyal, giving unconditional love and affection to her family and to those she considered her friends.
Eileen always seemed to be the calm in the eye of the storm all around her, balancing the demands of husband, sons, and her medical practice with seeming ease. She was a gifted gynecologist and surgeon, and women throughout northern New Jersey join us in sincerely mourning her loss. She was an active member of St.
She was a respected member of the Morristown Memorial Hospital medical community, and her colleagues join us in mourning her loss. She was an active and interested Sherlockian, and I know that all of you join us in mourning her loss. The initial meeting was similar to Alice falling down the rabbit hole into Wonderland. It is more to her credit than my intellect that the theory I postulated that summer remains the core of any public lecture I give today.
Helen also loved to attend Sherlockian events as well as host them. I recall her dramatic arrival from the airport, her wig precariously askew, but her spirits were high and she was more than ready to join in the good fellowship and discussion of The Master.
Although a generation older than the Founding Mothers, Helen would have fit right in at the famous BSI Dinner picket of , because she shared their irreverent spirit of tongue-in-cheek defiance. Helen Heinrich was warm-hearted and wise, an excellent combination in anyone, but most especially, a true Adventuress.
It is with true sadness that I convey the news that our dear Helen Heinrich, Lady Hilda herself, has passed beyond the Reichenbach. She suffered a broken hip last week while visiting family in Montana, and died on Sunday from kidney failure. She died of leukemia on August 10, Margaret is pictured here on her wedding day 18 June in Orleans, France. Martha Irish recalled in a memoir she wrote shortly before she died on Aug. She learned bookkeeping, worked for a CPA firm, and then decided to run her own company, offering accounting and tax service. She loved the theater, and was a volunteer usher at various theaters in Washington.
She was house manager for a theater festival, and it was through the theater that she found the Red Circle of Washington in the s, thanks to her friend Philip Brogdon, a local actor and Sherlockian. Martha also had great imagination, perhaps best displayed when she won a prize at the costume party held by the Red Circle, when three people appeared as Sherlock Holmes: one as a young Holmes, one as an older Holmes, and one as Holmes disguised as an elderly woman, with the baggy parasol that Count Negretto Sylvius politely handed to her MAZA. That was Martha, of course. I did, however, have a great time trying.
She was generous and supportive, sweet and kind and kindly, and a good friend to many people in the Sherlockian and non-Sherlockian worlds. Anita Janda died on December 7th, within hours of her last surgery to combat the ovarian cancer she had fought for several years. Her death came as a shock to those who had hoped, as she herself had, that she would be able to attend the ASH Autumn dinner days before.
Anita appeared on the Sherlockian scene early in through an e-mail message asking how she could learn about activities in the New York area.
As soon as she discovered the many choices, she began appearing at various gatherings and became a regular at ASH Wednesdays. Her cheerful and thoughtful conversation and ability to listen made her part of the sodality immediately. Anita wrote one of the most interesting, insightful, and unusual Holmesian pastiches.
The Secret Life of Dr. Written with the encouragement of his wife, it tells of his difficulties with the imperious Holmes and his frustrations with the demands of his publishers, and provides an appealingly different slant on many of the cases familiar to us only in their abridged published version. Early in our friendship, Anita mentioned another tie to the Master.
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She received a Ph. Anita made no secret of the fact that she was fighting cancer, and maintained a positive attitude coupled with a fatalistic resignation. She will be missed by many. She earned her PhD in linguistics with a grammatical analysis of the dance language of the honey bee.
It must be a secret diary. The premise thus established, we are treated to a deliciously different point of view. While I found the relationship between Holmes and Watson entirely consistent with my vision of the canon, I was amused by Ms. Does he think this is easy?