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Southern Star, v. 1, issue 1, 1941
Page 14
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From The Chicago Rocket Field SOUTHERN STAR Page 14 pair stood at a crossroads at Chenoa, Illinois, 100 miles from Chicago, and only 27 miles from their destination. Their thumbs are wiggling in rythym to the speeding cars when suddenly a car pulls up and whom do we see driving it and smiling guiltily, but Tullis and Finley! The Knaves! The -- oh, well, what's the use? The two grinning baboons let us hitch hike a hundred miles and then they pick us up. (It seems that they got away at 1:45 P.M. tho they did not expect to get away at all.) Anyway we forgave them, and rode into Bloomington as were accustomed --- in style. Such is fate. The Bloomington escapde (the 7th of that nature in a year) was very well covered in the Sept.-Oct. issue of LeZombie ((Tucker's pub, obtainable at the same address as the Fantasy Fictioneer for a nickel an issue, and heartily recommended to all you readers who haven't yet learned its worth. JG)) so I will not rehash the details here, except to say that we had a corking good time, did a lot of stf work planned the Fantasy Fictioneer dummy, finished up the loose ends of the Chicon business, went into Bloomington's down-town district and made the rounds, brought home enuf fire-water to finish the night with, tried to corrupt fandom by sending out false reports to the newsies, and did other things as dopey as you can expect when fans get together. Highlights of this 7th trip were: more of that good old Tucker home cooking; Korshak moving a "No-Parking" sign away from our parked car in order to fool the local constables into thinking we were parking in a legal place, and not being able to understand until later why the flatfooted man across the road was laughing so at the act; (Tucker later explained that the laughing man was a local cop in plain clothes and was my face red.) going thru Bloomington at 4:00 A.M. singing ribald songs, while Reinsberg and Tullis passed out on top of each other; and Tullis feeling the effects of the-night before, the-morning-after. Early in October (around the 3rd or so) I get a call one morning from my old pal Charlie Hornig. Charlie had written to me a few weeks before, telling me he planned to hit town in the near future on his way to New York City, so when he called I wasn't exactly surprised. He instructed me to get hold of Reinsberg (Marky lives only three blocks away) and come down to the Union Station to meet him. I said O.K. and hot-footed it over to Mark's place. After getting him out of bed -- he was still sleeping off the Convention -- and out of the house, we arrived in the vicinity of the Depot a half hour late. I sent Marky ahead to meet him while I took our packages and walked there. Enroute I stopped off at a "headline" printers and had them print 'CHICAGO FANS GREET HORNIG'. Armed with this I entered the depot screaming "Extra, get your Extra here -- 'Chicago Fans Greet Hornig'"! Anyway, Charlie was staying in Evanston (Chicago suburb) with Dr. Thelma Shull who had attended the Chicon and talked Doc Smith under the table in his own fields. We then, after picking Charlie up, took a trip to RAPalmer's, but Ray was in Milwaukee for a few days, so Charlie had to be satisfied with saying hello to Krupa. Following this we went to the factory of Mark's father. He manufactures Daniel Boone hats which I designed for him, and Marky got one to wear. With that on his head he was an object of wonder to everyone on the street, and gave Charlie and I laffs no end while walking with him. We all went up to see George Tullis in the Post Office Building where he was stationed, since he's in the Coast Guard, and had a lot of fun there. George drove us back to Mark's house, and we made an appointment to meet again on Saturday. Saturday rolled around and Mark couldn't make the appointment so I met Charlie alone at the appointed place in front of the Ziff-Davis offices. From there we went to the Hotel Chicagoian to show Charlie what our super-Convention hall was like. Then, after (continued on Page 16).
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From The Chicago Rocket Field SOUTHERN STAR Page 14 pair stood at a crossroads at Chenoa, Illinois, 100 miles from Chicago, and only 27 miles from their destination. Their thumbs are wiggling in rythym to the speeding cars when suddenly a car pulls up and whom do we see driving it and smiling guiltily, but Tullis and Finley! The Knaves! The -- oh, well, what's the use? The two grinning baboons let us hitch hike a hundred miles and then they pick us up. (It seems that they got away at 1:45 P.M. tho they did not expect to get away at all.) Anyway we forgave them, and rode into Bloomington as were accustomed --- in style. Such is fate. The Bloomington escapde (the 7th of that nature in a year) was very well covered in the Sept.-Oct. issue of LeZombie ((Tucker's pub, obtainable at the same address as the Fantasy Fictioneer for a nickel an issue, and heartily recommended to all you readers who haven't yet learned its worth. JG)) so I will not rehash the details here, except to say that we had a corking good time, did a lot of stf work planned the Fantasy Fictioneer dummy, finished up the loose ends of the Chicon business, went into Bloomington's down-town district and made the rounds, brought home enuf fire-water to finish the night with, tried to corrupt fandom by sending out false reports to the newsies, and did other things as dopey as you can expect when fans get together. Highlights of this 7th trip were: more of that good old Tucker home cooking; Korshak moving a "No-Parking" sign away from our parked car in order to fool the local constables into thinking we were parking in a legal place, and not being able to understand until later why the flatfooted man across the road was laughing so at the act; (Tucker later explained that the laughing man was a local cop in plain clothes and was my face red.) going thru Bloomington at 4:00 A.M. singing ribald songs, while Reinsberg and Tullis passed out on top of each other; and Tullis feeling the effects of the-night before, the-morning-after. Early in October (around the 3rd or so) I get a call one morning from my old pal Charlie Hornig. Charlie had written to me a few weeks before, telling me he planned to hit town in the near future on his way to New York City, so when he called I wasn't exactly surprised. He instructed me to get hold of Reinsberg (Marky lives only three blocks away) and come down to the Union Station to meet him. I said O.K. and hot-footed it over to Mark's place. After getting him out of bed -- he was still sleeping off the Convention -- and out of the house, we arrived in the vicinity of the Depot a half hour late. I sent Marky ahead to meet him while I took our packages and walked there. Enroute I stopped off at a "headline" printers and had them print 'CHICAGO FANS GREET HORNIG'. Armed with this I entered the depot screaming "Extra, get your Extra here -- 'Chicago Fans Greet Hornig'"! Anyway, Charlie was staying in Evanston (Chicago suburb) with Dr. Thelma Shull who had attended the Chicon and talked Doc Smith under the table in his own fields. We then, after picking Charlie up, took a trip to RAPalmer's, but Ray was in Milwaukee for a few days, so Charlie had to be satisfied with saying hello to Krupa. Following this we went to the factory of Mark's father. He manufactures Daniel Boone hats which I designed for him, and Marky got one to wear. With that on his head he was an object of wonder to everyone on the street, and gave Charlie and I laffs no end while walking with him. We all went up to see George Tullis in the Post Office Building where he was stationed, since he's in the Coast Guard, and had a lot of fun there. George drove us back to Mark's house, and we made an appointment to meet again on Saturday. Saturday rolled around and Mark couldn't make the appointment so I met Charlie alone at the appointed place in front of the Ziff-Davis offices. From there we went to the Hotel Chicagoian to show Charlie what our super-Convention hall was like. Then, after (continued on Page 16).
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