Openers: Jimmy Jarnegan's office was deceptive in a good many ways. When you walked down the echoing hallway of the Tudor Building, you found his name on a shadowed panel of frosted glass. "JAMES JARNEGAN, REPORTS," was all that showed on the door to indicate his profession, and "REPORTS" does not sound like a particularly interesting profession. But it is. And when you pushed open the frosted glass door you found yourself in a rather unimpressive little anteroom with Miss Bailey on guard.
Miss Bailey was somewhere on the drabber, further side of thirty-five, and her hair was never quite tidy, and she looked like a person who is hired partly out of charity and partly because her wages will be lower than those of a young girl who has to dress like a bank president's daughter in order to catch a shoe clerk for a husband. But Miss Bailey was highly efficient and her salary was excellent.
There were other deceptive features. If you were admitted to Jimmy's office, you would think that the anteroom and the single office composed the total office space. But he paid rent on four adjoining offices in addition to these two, even though the doors of the other offices bore the names of firms of which nobody had ever heard and with which nobody at all ever did business. Jarnegan's office itself looked rather comfortable and rather expensively furnished, but not as if any great number of important matters were ever decided there. Which was perhaps the most deceptive thing of all.
Important matters were decided there. One man, at least, had decided not to commit suicide in that office, and one other man had decided to abandon an honorable name and profession and go back to an astonished penitentiary and serve out the balance of an unfinished term. And there were matters affecting reasonably important business concerns decided there every day.
-- The Man Who Feared by Will F. Jenkins (1930)
Jenkins, of course, was better known as 'Murray Leinster." In the days before that name was synonymous with science fiction, Jenkins was churning out an amazing number of stories in all genres. He began his career writing for Menken and Nathan's Smart Set (it was either Mencken or Nathan -- stories differ -- who suggested he adopt the Leinster pen name for his "minor" writings, never realizing that that name would soon overtake the Jenkins birth name), moved on to Breezy Stories and similar pulps, and expanded to adventure, romance, western, detective, historical, and general fiction, and pubishing his first science fiction story in 1918. Jenkins was noted for churning out fast, readable, and literate stories for both the pulps and the slicks. The majority of his published books were in the science fiction field, he also published a number of exciting western novels and more than a few detective novels.
When a dishobest and amoral businessman is threated by an anonymous aopurce to have hs life pulled apart, private detective Jimmy Jarnegan agrees to help, despite having a strong personal reaspon to hate his client. The investigationleads to murder, theft, and balckamail as Jarnegan pursues a particularly vicious killer. While not a top-notch detective novel, The Man Who Feared is an interesting read and well worth your time, especially if you are a Jenkins/Leinster fan -- and many of us who grew up with his stories in the 50s, 60s, and 70s are just that.
Incoming:- Forrest J. Ackerman, editor, Rainbow Fantasia: 35 Spectrumatic Tales of Wonder. Science fiction antholgy from the man who was known as "Mr. Science Fiction." Ackerman preached the gospel of science fiction his whole life, bt had a hard time separating the clunkers from the pure gold. This anthology has booth, mostly dating from th 1920s and 30s. The conceit of this anthology is that a color must be mentioned in each story title: black, gray, brown, purple, violet, blue, green, yellow, golden, orange, red, scarlet, white, and rainb ow. (I suppose there are worse criteria for selecting an anthology's contents.) Stanbys fronm the erly days of the genre include Harl Vncent, Nat Schachner, Ray Cummings, and Arthur J, Burks; later authors include H. L. Gold, A. E. van Vogt, and C. L. Moore. A mixed bag, but with some pretty intersting reading.
- [anonymous editor], A Treasury of Classic Mystery Stories. A hefty (789 page) instant remainder from Fall River Press. Twenty-three stories dating from 1956 tp 1921, including the novels The Hound of the Baskervilles, The Big Bow Mystery, and The Mysterious Affair at Styles. Also included is a hard-to-find Sax Rohmer story, "The Ten-Thirty Folkestone Express" (1914, as "The Crouching Man"), which was also released as a rare British pamphlet, 10.30 Folkestone Express (Lloyds, c. 1915). Part of a box of goodies from the Sage of Tonawanda, George Kelley.
- "Victor Appleton" (house name used by Harriet Adams this time out), Tom Swift and His Ocean Airport. A late entry in the original series. After Howard garis stopped penning Tom's adventures after book 35, Harriet Adams (the daughter of Stratemeyer Syndicate founder Joseph Stratemeyer) took over for the last three "true" books. (Two final books -- poorly written and definitely inferior -- were published as Big Little Books after a four-year hiatus, both ghosted by Thomas Moyston Mitchell). this was the second of her Ton Swift novels, and the 37th in the series altogether. By now, Tom as a youthful hero is showing his age. He's married and running a mega-large science and invention concern. His original readers, who started with him in way back in 1910, have aged out, too. It was more than time to put the original series to rest. It wouldn't be until 1954 that the series is "resumed" with the advent of the Tom Swift, Jr., books (33 titles, lasting until 1971.
- .Basil Copper, The Dark Mirror. Copper's first novel in his long-running series about L.A. privat investigator Mike Faraday. The first person narration from a California 'tec has a lot of Britishism that makes each book an unusual read. Mike Faraday is an acquired taste. Luckily, I have acquired it.
- John Creasey, a whole bunch of Inspector(later Superintendent) Roger West mysteries: Death of a Postman (also published as Parcels for Inspector West), The Extortioners, Inspector West Alone, Send Superintendent West (also published as Send Inspector West), A Sharp Rise in Crime, and So Young to Burn, Also two adventures of the Toff, the Honourable Richard Rollison: Double for the Toff and The Toff and the Runaway Bride. Creasey's books are like peanuts or potato chips for me -- a can't stop at just one.
- Will F. Jenkins (a.k.a "Murray Leinster"), The Man Who Feared. First serialized in Detective Fiction Weekly, August 9-30, 1930; published in book form the same year. Jenkins' last mystery novel before he began to concentrate more on his science fiction, while also continuing to produce westerns. Jimmy Jerrigan has to track down the "deepest, bloodiest, guiltiest villain" in his career.
- Leo P. Kelley, editor, Themes in Science Fiction: A Journey into Wonder. The first of three anthologies Kelley produced for the school market; 31 stories, complete with introdictions nd suggestions for discussion. A number of the usual suspects are represented -- Asimov, Clarke, Sheckley, Dick, Anderson, Ellison, Matherson, Kornbluth (both singly and with Pohl), Leiber, Vonnegut, Laumer, Oliver, Ton Godwin, Fredric Brow, Gene Wolfe, and others. Another one from the George Kelley box, with grateful thanks.
- "Lousia Carter Lee" (Will F. Jenkins, a.k.a. "Murray Leinster"), Her Desert Lover: a Love Story. in the 1920s, Jenkins found a ready marker in Love Story Magazine and published 39 stories there, including this novel, which was serialized weekly from May 9 to May 30, 1925 before being released as a book that same year. He published two other romance novels under the Lee pseudonym; all three are hard to find. I got lucky with this one.
- Adrian McKinty, I Hear Sirens in the Street. A Detective Sean Duffy novel, the second book in the Troubles trilogy. It's 1968 and Duffy has to identify a torso found in a suitcase. The torso belongs to an American tourist who used to belong to the US miltary. So what was he doing in Northern Ireland in the midst of the Troubles? The Sean Duffy books have been critically acclaimed, an for good reason.
- Dasvid Morrell, Scavender. Thriller, a followup to Creepers, featuring damaged hero Frank Balenger, this time on a hunt for a 100-year-old time capsule.
- Hans C. Owen, Fit to Kill (also published as Ways of Death). Evidently the author's only novel, and possibly his only work of fiction. An academic mystrery featuring Sergeant "Sally" Cusani and Professor Percival Trout, who offer a course in murder detection at a large Eastern university. When murders begin to roll in (a shooting, a bludgeoning, and a strangulation) the pair have to go to their own syllabus.
- Robert Silverberg & Martin H. Greenberg, editors, Great Tales of Science Fiction. Another "instant remainder," this time from Galahad Books -- 36 stories crammed into 529 pages. Many of the stories are familiar,but the lineup is to die for, from Poe, Verne, Wells, Twain, and Kipling to Williamson, Weinbaum, Simal, Leinster, Asimove, Sheckley, Leiber, Anderson, Cordwainer Smith, Bester, Sturgeon, Farmer, Clarke, Russ, Silverberg, and Le Guin. A great collection! Another one from the Kelley box.
- Jay Williams and Raymond Abrashkin, Danny Dunn and the Universal Glue. YA novel in the science fictionish series, Danny, Joe, and Irene become interested in Professor Bulfinch's experiments with polymers and end up using a "uiniversal glue" to save Miston from a threatened flood. This is one of my favoite YA series.
- Also, in the Kelley box were four (count 'em, four!) Yo-Yo Ma CDs and a double CD of James Starker performing Bach Suite!. Super good stuff. I really should feature both artists on blog posts in the near future. FULL DISCLOSURE: Although I refer to George as the "Sage of Tonawanda," that title (I suspect) really belongs to Diane. I just confer the title to George because I feel he needs the ego boost.
The Story of the Lady that was murdered, and the story of the young Man, her Husband:
Commander of the faithful, your majesty may be pleased to know, that this murdered lady was my wife, the daughter of this old man you see here. who is my own uncle by the father's side. She was not above twelve years old when he gave her to me, and it is now eleven years ago. I have three children by her, all boys yet alive; and I must do her that justice to say, that she never gave me the least occasion of offense; she was chaste, of good behaviour, and made it her whole business to please me. And for my part, I loved her entirely, and rather prevented her in granting any thing she desired, than opposed it
About two months ago she fell sick; I took all imaginable care of her, and spared nothing that could procure her a speedy recovery: After a month, she began to grow better, and had a mind to go to the bagnio. Before she went out of the house, Cousin, said she, (for so she used to call me out of familiarity) I long for some apples; if you could get me any, you would please me extremely; I have longed for them a great while, and, I must own, it has come to that height, that, if I will not be satisfied very soon, I fear some misfortune will befal [sic] me. With all my heart, said I, I will do all that is in my power to make you easy.
I went immediately round all the markets and shops in the town to seek for apples, but I could not get one, though I offered to pay a sequin a-piece. I returned home very much dissatisfied at my dissappointment. And for my wife, when she returned from the bagnio, and saw no apples, she became so very uneasy, that she could not sleep all night: I got up betimes in the morning, and went through all the gardens, but had no better success than the day before; only I happened to meet an old gardener, who told me that all my pains would signify nothing, for I could not expect to find apples any where but in your majesty's garden at Balsora. As I loved my wife passionately, and would not have any thing of neglect to satisfy her, chargeable upon me, I put myself in a traveller's habit, and after I had told her my design, I went to Balsora, and made my journey with so great diligence, that I returned at the end of fifteen days, with three apples, which cost me a sequin a-piece; there were no more left in the garden, so that the gardener would let me have them no cheaper. As soon as I came home, I presented them to my wife, but her longing was over; so she satisfied herself with receiving them, and laid them down by her. In the mean time she continued sickly, and I knew not what remedy to get for her.
Some few days after I returned from my journey, I was sitting in my shop, in the public place where all sorts of fine stuffs are sold, and saw an ugly, tall black slave, come in with an apple in his hand, which I knew to be one of those which I had brought from Balsora. I had no reason to doubt it, because I was certain there was not one to be had in all Bagdad, not in any of the gardens about it. I called to him, and said, Good slave, pray thee tell me where thou hadst this apple? It is a present (said he, smiling,) from my mistress. I was to see her to-day, and found her out of order. I saw three apples lyng by her, and asked her where she had them? She told me, the good man, her husband, had made a fortnight's journey on purpose for them, and brought them her. We had a collation together; and, when I took my leave of her, I brought away this apple that you see.
This discourse put me out of my senses; I rose, shut up my shop, ran home with all speed, and going to my wife's chamber, looked immediately for the apples, and seeing only a couple, asked what was become of the third. Then my wife turning her head to the place where the apples lay, and perceiving there were but two, answered me coldly, Cousin, I do not know what is become of it. By this answer I did verily believe what the slave told me to be true; and at the same time, gave myself up to madness and jealousy, I drew my knife from my girdle, and thrust it into the unfortunate creature's throat; I afterwards cut off her head, and divided her body into four quarters, which I packed up in a bundle, sewed it up with a thread of red yarn, put all together in a trunk, and when night came, I carried it on my shoulder down to the Tigris, where I sunk it.
The two youngest of my chidren were already put to bed, and asleep, the third was gone abroad; but at my return, I found him sitting by my gate, weeping very sore. I asked him the reason: Father, said he, I took this morning from my mother, without her knowledge, one of those three apples you brought her, and kept it a long while; but, as I was playing some time ago with my little brother in the street, a tall slave that went by, snatched it out of my hands, and carried it with him: I ran after him, demanding it back; and besides, told him that it belonged to my mother, who was sick, and that you had made a fortnight's journey to fetch it; but all to no purpose, he would not restore it. And whereas I still followed him crying out, he turned and beat me; then ran away as fast as ever he could from one lane to another, till at length I lost sight of him. I have since been walking without the town, expecting your return, to pray you, dear father, not to tell my mother of it, lest it should make her worse. And when he had said these words, he fell a-weeping again more bitterly than before.
My son's discourse afflicted me beyond all measure. I then found myself guilty of an enormous crime, and repented too late of having so easily believed the calumnies of a wretched slave, who, from what I had learned of my son, invented that fatal lie.
My uncle here present, came just at the time to see his daughter, but, instead of finding her alive, understood from me she was dead, for I did conceal nothing from him; and, without staying for his censure, declared myself the greatest criminal in the world.
Upon this, instead of reproaching me, he joined his tears with mine, and we wept three days together without intermission: he for the loss of a daughter whom he always loved tenderly; and I for the loss of a dear wife, of whom I deprived myself after so cruel a manner, by giving too easy a credit to the report of a lying slave.
Thus, commander of the faithful, is the sincere confession your majesty commanded from me. You have heard now all the circumstances of my crime, and I most humbly beg of you to order the punishment due for it; how severe soever it may be, I shall not in the least complain, but esteem it too easy and gentle.
The calip0h was very much astounded at the young man's relation. But this just prince, finding he was rather to be pitied than condemned, began to speak in his favour: This young man's crime, said he, is pardonable before God, and excusable with men. The wicked slave is the sole cause of this murder: it is he alone that must be punished; wherefore, said he, looking upon the grand visier, I give you three days time to find him out; if you do not bring him within that space, you shall die in his stead. This unfortunate Giafar, who thought himself now out of danger, was terribly perplexed at tis new order of the caliph: but as he durst not return any answer to this prince, whose hasty temper he knew too well, he departed from his presence, and retired to his house with tears in his eyes, peruadng himself he had but three days to live; for he was so fully persuaded that he should not find the slave, that he made not the least inquiry about him. It is possible, said he, that in such a city as Bagdad, where there is an infinite number of negro slaves, I should be albe to find him out that is guilty? so that, unless God be pleased to bring it about, as he hath already detecte the murderer, nothing can save my life.
He spent the first two days in mourning with his family, who sat round him weepoing and complaining of the caliph's cruelty. The third day being come, he prepared himself to die with courage, as an honest minister, and one that had nothing to trouble his conscience; he sent for notaries and witnesses, who signed the last will he made in their presence. After which he took leave of his wife and children, and bid them the last farewell. All his family was drowned in tears, so that there never was a more sorrowful spectacle. At last the messenger came from the caliph to tell him that he was out of all patience, having heard nothing from him, nor concerning the negro slave, which he had commanded him to search for; I am therefore ordered, said he, to bring you before his throne. The afflicted visier made ready to follow the messenger; but as he was going out, they brought him his youngest daughter, about five or six years of age. The nurses that attended her presented her to her father to receive his last blessing.
As he had a particular love for that child, he prayed the messenger to give him leave to stop for a moment, and taking his daughter in his arms, he kissed her several times; as he kise her, he perceived she had somewhat in her bosom that looked bulky, and had a sweet scent. My dearest little one, said he, what hast thou in thy bosom? Dear father, said she, it is an apple, uponwhich is written the name of our lord and master the caliph; our slave* Rihan sold it me for two sequins.
At these words, Apple and Slave, the grand visier cried with surprise, intermixed with joy. and puitting his hand into the child's bosom piulled out the apple! Hr caused the slave, who was not too far off, to be brought immediately, and when he came, Rascal, said he, where hadsst thou this apple? My lord, said the slave, I swear to you that I neither stole it in your house, nor where three or four small children were at play, one but the other day as was I going along a street, out of the commander of the faithful's garden; of them, having it in his hand, I snatched if from him, and carried it away. the child ran after me, telling me that it was none of his own, but belonged to his mother, who was sick; and that his father, to save her longing, had made a long journey, and brought home three apples, whereof this was one, which he had taken from his mother without her knowledge. He said what he could to make me give it him back, but I would not; so I brought it home, and sold it for two sequins to the little lady, your daughter; and this is the whole truth of the matter.
Giafar could not enough admire how the roguery of a slave had been the cause of an innocent woman's death, and almost of his own. He carried the slave along with him; and when he came before the caliph, he gave that prince an exact account of all that the slave had told him, and the chance that brought him to the discovery of his crime.
Never was any surprise so great as that of the caliph, yet he could not prevent himself from falling into excessive fits of laughter. At last he recovered himself, and, with serious mien, told the visier, That since his slave had been the occasion of a strange accident, , he deserved an exemplary punishment. -- Sir, I must own it, said the visier, b ut his guilt is not irremissable. I remember a strange story of a viser of Cairo...
[Here, the visier Gaifar begins to relate The Story of Noureddin Ali, and Bedridden Hassan. At the end of this lengthy tale, the visier pardons the Giafar's slave]
* This word signifies in Arabic, Basilic, an odoriferous plant, and the Arabians call their slaves by this name, as the suctom in France is to give the name to a footman.
-- taken from Arabian Nights' Entertainments, as reprinted in Tales from the East: Comprising the Most Popular Romances of Oriental Origin; and the Best Imitations by European Authors, edited by Henry Weber (1812). Weber served as amanuensis to Sir Walter Scott, and reportedly assembled this collection for Scott. went mad shortly after Christmas 1813 and challenged Scott to mortal combat; he was restrained and placed in an asylum as a "hopeless lunatic," where he died in 1818.
Phew! there's a lot to unpack in this story...racism, sexism, the patriarchy, class distinctions, family violence, the arbitary and capricious systems of justice and politics, the convenient use of coincidence theater, paternal favorism, and marrying your cousin even though you are not America's Mayor ...not a pleasant portrait of a society or a time. And where does one get apples that can stay fresh for so long?
'Tis the Season for Christmas Florida Man:
- From 2022: 52-year-old Florida Man Richard Daniel Atchison of Fruitland Park was arrested for hitting his wife with a Christmas tree after she had asked for his help with dinner. She compounded her offense by putting a spoon in the sink, accidently splashing him with water. Irritated, Atchisin packed his things and left, only to return and insist that she leave instead. When she tried to leave, he hit her with the Christmas and then blocked her way to prevent her from leaving. alcohol was involved.
- From 2023: Florida Grinch Douglas M oore, 43, of Middleburg, was arrested for firing a gun during a neighborhood Christmas parade because he was "agitated" and what the parade-goers were doing. And what were they doing? Evidently Christmas-parading. Again, alcohol was involved.
- From 2019: Florida Santa Wannabe Richard Ellis Spurrier, of Pinellis County, was arrested for sharing holiday joy by handing out marijuana "because it was Christmas." Authorities confiscated 45 grams of weed from the 67-year-old before taking him in. No alcohol was involved in this ho-ho-holiday caper.
- From 2020: An unnamed Bradenton Florida man did not get a present fro St. Nick. instead he woke up to find a complete stranger in his bedroom sucking on his toes. Eww! No sus[pects were found or arrested. As for me, I'd rather get a lump of coal in my stocking than a visit from the phantom toe-sucker.
- From 2018: At the annual Cape Coral festival of Lights, one unnamed Florida Man was carrying a hiuge sign proclaiming, "SANTA ISN'T REAL," and yelling at parents of small children that they were lying to their children. The rant evidently went on for hours. (I have heard more recent stories of religious findamentalists doing the same thing in recent years, but those tales may be apocryphal.)
- From 2013: Florida Schizophrenic Brandon Aydelott killed his mother on Christmas Eve when he was 17. Sharon Aydelott was a teacher at Holly-Navarre Middle School. (My grandson Jack went to Holly-Navarre Intermediate School and, had we lived a few streets to the east, he would have attendied Holly-Navarre Middle School this year; instead, he's going to Woddlawn Beach Middle School.) Aydelott stabbed his mother several times, beat her with a bat, and stomped on her face several times; he was found not guilty by reason of insanity, and has been confined to a state hospital. He is due to go before a judge on January 4 for possible release, after one report found him no longer to be a danger to himself or others.
- Cocoa Beah, 2023: Once again, the Surfing Santas are at it. https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/watch-live-surfing-santas-hit-the-waves-for-a-christmas-tradition-in-florida/ar-AA1lYJHL?ocid=hpmsn&cvid=751bec6c3c454646a1f2836d5ad1abd4&ei=153
Krampus: There are times when I think we need to bring a little Krampus into the Christmas season. Let's face it: the Grinch is not doing a bang-up job; if he were part of a large and mindless corporation, he'd be just an entry-level mailroom clerk. Krampus, however, is the cool and dangerous sidekick to Santa. He's Hawk to Spenser, Clete Purcel to Dave Robicheaux, Joe Pike to Elvis Cole. When Krampus comes to town, people sit up and take notice.
Krampus has been around since the 6th or 7th century. He was a pre-Christianity figure in the Central and Eastern Alpine communities -- which makes Santa Claus a Johnnie-come-lately. But things really got intersting when he teamed up with St. Nick. Whereas Santa would reward the good little boys and girls, Krampus would scare the bejeezus out of them until they behaved. They were the original good cop-bad cop duo. And if a bad kid did not turn his act around, Krampus would a) beat them, b) drown them, c) eat them, or d) shove them in his sack and take them down to Hell. If Krampus were arpund today, I'd have a list of neighborhood children for him.
And Krampus is butt-ugly -- just how ugly is up for question because few have survived seeing him. He has cloven hooves, goat horns, a tail, a long and pointed tongue, and sharp, sharp fangs, and is covered with dark furry hair. But do not confuse his looks with those of Satan -- Krampus is far, far uglier. The name Krampus comes from either the Bavarian (krampn, meaning dead or rotten) or from the German (kramp/krampen, meaning claw). (Some people believe the origin of the word comes from the old German word for menstral cramps, but I tend to discount this.)
And why limit Krampus to the Christmas season? I believe we need something to deflect all of the horrors that threatened to await us in 2024: global warming, rising oceans, new and virulent diseases, nuclear destruction, earthquakes, volcanoes, abberant weather, rising populations, a great extinction, mass starvation, ethnic and cultural wars, Florida politics, homophobia, the war on women, a descent into authoritarinism, illiteracy, our eventual AI overloards,science denial, Tay-Tay and Kelce, and the impending MAGA-universe, Krampus, scary as he is, cannot hold a candle to these other horrors. Krampus is the deflection we need. His time has come.
Listzilla: J. Kingston Pierce over at his The Rap Sheet blog has been reprinting (and linking to) this year's lists of recommended crime and mystery books as he comes across them. Two weeks (December 11) ago, on Jerry's House of Everything, I compiled these lists into one massive list. Since then, Pierce has been adding more lists and I have been incorporating them into my own list. To avoid confusion, I marked each additional book with the date added. When there were multiple recommendations of a book, I marked tha title with an asterisk. As the list greww some of the books received multiple recommndations for the first time, so I marked those also with the date. My compiation soon encompassed some 80 "Year's Best" lists. Pierce completed his list survey on Thursday, the 21st, which also allowed me end this rather time-consuming project.
For those who are intersted, here is the Bits & Pieces post that carries the list (scroll down for the list):
https://jerryshouseofeverything.blogspot.com/2023/12/bits-pieces.html
Thinking Ahead: three elderly people were discussing what they would want their grtandchildren to say about them fifty years in the future. The geezer said, "I wand my grandchildren to say, 'He was successful in business.' " The second one said, "I want them to say, "He was a wonderful family man.' " The third person did not hesitate and said, "I want them to say, 'gee, he looks good for his age."
A Marc Chagall Christmas (1943): https://www.pinterest.com/pin/564216659568180753/
Good News:
- Nuclear waste from unused weapons is now being turned safely into glass after leaking radioactivity for years https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/nuclear-waste-from-unused-weapons-is-being-safely-turned-to-glass-after-leaking-for-years/
- Six strangers drop everything to help man find wedding ring he lost while doing yerd work https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/6-strangers-drop-everything-to-help-man-find-wedding-ring-lost-while-doing-yard-work/ https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/6-strangers-drop-everything-to-help-man-find-wedding-ring-lost-while-doing-yard-work/
- British boy gets an Iron Man prosthetic arm for Christman https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/english-boy-unwraps-iron-man-prosthetic-arm-a-gift-from-his-nation-days-before-christmas/
- Volunteer hospital driver gets a favor returned by a six-year-old decades later https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/volunteer-hospital-driver-gets-favor-returned-by-6-yo-decades-later/
- Oklahoma teen overcomes shyness to collect and give away 54,000 toys https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/oklahoma-teen-overcomes-shyness-to-collect-and-give-away-54000-toys/
- FDA approves cure for sickle cell desease for the first tratment to use gene-editing CRISPR https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/fda-approves-cure-for-sickle-cell-disease-the-first-treatment-to-use-gene-editing-tool-crispr/
- Vaccine targeting triple-negative breast cancer shows good results in clinical trial https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/vaccine-targeting-triple-negative-breast-cancer-shows-good-response-in-first-clinical-trial-of-patients/Ireland sets a renewable record with 70% energy from wind https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/ireland-sets-renewable-record-of-70-energy-from-wind/
Today's Poem:
Music on a Christmas Morning
Music I love -- but never strain
Could kindle raptures so divine,
So grief assuage, so conquer pain,
And rouse this pensive heart of mine --
As that we hear on Christmas morn,
Upon the wintry breezes borne.
Though Darkness still her empire keep,
And hours might pass, ere morning break;
From troubled dreams, or slumbers deep,
That music kindly bids us wake;
It calls us,with an angel's voice,
To wake, to worship, and rejoice;
To greet with joy the glorious morn,
Which angels welcomed long ago,
When our redeeming Lord was born,
To bring the light of Heaven below;
The Powers of Darkness to dispel,
And rescue Earth from Death and Hell.
While listening to that sacred strain,
My raptured spirit soars on high;
I seem to hear those songs again
Resounding through the open sky,
That kindled such divine delight,
In those who watched their flocks by night.
With them, I celebrate his birth --
Glory to God, in highest Heaven,
Good-will to men, and peace on Earth,
To us a Savior-king is given;
And God is come to claim His own,
And Satan's power is overthrown!
A sinless God, for sinful men,
Descends to suffer, and to bleed,
Hell must renounce its empire then;
The price is paid, the world is freed,
And Satan's self must now confess,
That Christ has earned a Right to bless.
Now holy peace may smile from heaven,
And heavenly Truth from earth shall spring:
The captive's galling bonds are riven,
For our Redeemer is our King;
And He that gave his blood for men
Will lead us home to God again.
-- Anne Bronte
Happy Holidays! From our house to yours...
FIRST ROW: Duncan, the phlegm-inducing allergen dog; SECOND ROW: Erin, Christina, Walt (yes, he's that short), Jack;
THIRD ROW: Trey (Erin's boyfriend), Me (ever-handsome), Mark; Fourth Row: Santa Rosa Sound
