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From
The Surrey Shore . .
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The Newsletter of the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore Vol. 1, No. 4, August 2002
****A Scion
Society for All Who Enjoy Sherlock Holmes in All His Manifestations!****
Okay—not really (although some
may wish we would). But we are heading straight to the local graveyard
for the September meeting of The Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore
(Indianapolis’ newest—and only independent—Sherlockian scion), as we
conduct “A Grave Investigation” on the hallowed grounds of historic Crown Hill
Cemetery, off 38th Street on Indianapolis’ West side, on Sunday
afternoon, September 8, from 1:15 to 4 p.m. (See the “Upcoming Meetings”
section at the end of this newsletter for directions, or visit the Crown Hill
Web site at www.crownhill.org for directions and a map of the cemetery. You can
also call the cemetery at 317-925-8231 for additional information.) We’ll be
gathering for a short meeting at 1:15 at the Gothic Chapel, in the part of the
cemetery that lies south of 38th Street, after which we’ll join one
of the cemetery’s special, guided public tours, this one highlighting Civil
War-area grave sites. Cost for this part of the event is $5 (or $4 for seniors
over 55 and $3 for students). The tour begins promptly at 2 p.m., so if you
can’t make the meeting portion, be there by 1:45 p.m. so that we can tour as a
group. (To find your fellow Hated Rivals, look for people in deerstalkers or
other Victorian wear.) The main tour wraps up at about 3:30 p.m. Following
that, we’ll take the optional hike to the top of Crown Hill itself. Make sure
that you wear comfortable walking shoes so that you don’t find your dogs
barking in the nighttime later that evening. Those who hunger for additional
Sherlockian fellowship after the tour may join us for an early dinner at a
local area restaurant, to be chosen then by all who wish to participate.
***
Couple lengthy topics to cover
this issue, so without further adieu (or a-don’t), here we go! As promised last
time, we’re exploring in this issue the Canonical history of our namesake, Mr.
Barker, as described in the Holmes story “The Retired Colourman.” We also
engage in some speculation about this man, of whom even the Master Detective of
Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes, thought enough to dub his “hated rival upon the
Surrey Shore.” (And you know that, if Sherlock Holmes considers someone to be
competent enough as a detective to call him a rival, that man must be quite
skilled at his trade indeed.)
The first official Canonical mention of Baker, as that point unnamed, comes during Watson’s report to Holmes in “Retired Colourman” of his visit with Josiah Amberley at the latter’s home, the Haven. Watson describes a man that he encounters as “a lounger who was smoking in the street . . . a tall, dark, heavily moustached, rather military-looking man” who gave the good doctor “a curiously questioning glance” that stuck in Watson’s memory. Watson then reports that he saw the same man board the train that he took and then again at London Bridge, concluding that the man was following him. Watson then adds that he lost the man in the crowd. (More on this later.) Holmes amazes Watson by filling in some details that the doctor had omitted from his description—that the man wore gray-tinted sunglasses and a Masonic tie pin, which Watson confirms. Later, in encountering that same man sitting with Holmes at Amberley’s, Watson adds that he is a “stern-looking, impassive man.” And, finally, Watson describes Barker as “our taciturn companion.” So we can conclude that he was probably a man of few words.
` These few passages are all that
the Canon offers in the way of a physical description of Barker, although we
can deduce from a later passage, in which Holmes describes how Barker nabbed
him in climbing out Amberley’s window, that Barker must have been quite strong.
How? Holmes states that he recognized the detective only “when [he] could twist
[his] head round,” implying that it took some effort for Holmes to do so. We
know from “The Adventure of the Speckled Band,” that Holmes himself was inordinately
strong for such a wiry individual: After Dr. Grimesby Roylott demonstrated his
own strength by bending an iron poker nearly in two, Holmes performed the even
more remarkable feat of unbending the same instrument. So if Barker was able to
restrain Holmes even for a few moments, we can surmise that Barker was probably
at least nearly as strong as Holmes himself or Holmes could have quickly turned
and recognized his captor as his “friend and rival, Mr. Barker.” (Although why
Amberley could later even wriggle and twist in the grip of two men of such
strength – “two experienced man-handlers,” as Watson describes them – is
another minor Canonical mystery.)
We can determine one other thing
about Barker’s appearance if we take into account the only illustration we have
of the man, which accompanied the original publication of “The Retired
Colourman.” In the scene in which Barker nabs Holmes as the latter is climbing
out of Amberley’s window, Barker is depicted as wearing a bowler. Although his
attire at the time may have been chosen so as not to stand out so much during
his stakeout of Amberley’s home, we feel confident in deducing that this was
probably Barker’s regular headwear. (If countless later portrayals of Homes
wearing a deerstalker can be justified by the one Padget illustration in which
he did so, we see no reason why we can’t picture Barker in a bowler, based on
the only Canonical illustration of the detective.) To see for yourselves, you
can check out a copy of this picture on the Contacts page of our Hated Rivals
Web site.
So what about Barker’s abilities as a detective? Again, we turn to Holmes’ own descriptions of his “friend” and “rival” – the former term one that Holmes applies rarely in the Canon (Watson being the chief example) and the latter one that he applies only to Barker. Holmes generally held a rather dim view of other detectives, both official and unofficial. He occasionally had kind words to say about Scotland Yard’s inspectors – MacDonald and Hopkins primarily – but, for the most part, considered the official police to be bunglers. As for fictional detectives, such as Poe’s Auguste Dupin, Holmes dismissed them out of hand. And although he employed a number of operatives throughout the Canon, Barker is the only other private detective that the Master Sleuth of Baker Street ever names as one with whom he’s willing to work. After discovering that it was Barker who’d caught him slipping out of Amberley’s window, Holmes compared notes with his rival, and they “continued the case together.” Barker, it seemed, had “come to the same conclusion as to foul play” in the case, as had Holmes. Although their methods were slightly different, their conclusions were identical – not too shabby to be on a par with Sherlock Holmes in that area.
What else, then, can we conclude
from the evidence about Barker’s proficiencies in his chosen profession? He
must have been efficient, as in preparing to take Amberley in, Barker already
has a cab at the door, ready to transport the man to the nearest police
station. He must have gained the full confidence of Holmes, as the latter felt
secure in leaving Barker “to look after the formalities” so that he could
return to the crime scene to fill Watson in on Barker’s involvement in the
case. As to Barker’s ability as a detective, Holmes states that he “has several
good cases to his credit” (to which Inspector MacKinnon grudgingly answers, “He
has certainly interfered several times” – something often said of Holmes
himself.) And then Holmes pays Barker what can only be considered the highest
of compliments: “His methods are irregular, no doubt, like my own.” (Emphasis
added.) Although the comparison here to Holmes’ own methods is in the context
of being irregular, we seriously doubt that Holmes would have made such a
comparison at all if he didn’t consider Barker nearly his equal as a detective.
He also trusts Barker to follow his own lead in completing the case in stating
that Barker “has done nothing save what I told him.” And, we can see, too, that
Barker is more concerned with seeing justice done than with his own ego, as
like Holmes himself, he is willing to let the official police take the credit
for solving the case.
But what of the story’s record
of Barker’s stakeout and his subsequent tailing of Watson, which the good
doctor detected? Holmes tells us that Barker “had watched the house for some
days and had spotted Dr. Watson as one of the obviously suspicious characters
who had called there. He could hardly arrest Watson, but when he saw a man
actually climbing out of the pantry window there came a limit to his
restraint.” Barker was obviously a very patient man, as he’d watched Amberley’s
residence “for some days,” and perceptive, as he’d obviously spotted Watson as
a “suspicious character.” He also detected Holmes (who once bragged that he
could have made a living as a burglar had he not chosen the side of justice)
sneaking out of Amberley’s – but, then, why didn’t he detect Holmes entering
the premises? Well, first, we don’t know that he didn’t. Holmes merely reports
Barker’s detection and capture of him on leaving the house. The taciturn Barker
may simply have neglected mentioning that he’d spotted Holmes entering as well
but waited until the intruder emerged to catch him red-handed. And if not,
perhaps he was simply taking a necessary . . . well, break at the time
(perhaps at a public watercloset?). After all, although he’d watched the house
for days, he surely didn’t do so nonstop. And as we have no record of him
working with anyone else, he still would need to leave occasionally. (And he
did leave to follow the “suspicious” Watson, so we have an actual record of him
doing so.) Either way, to have caught Holmes at all implies more positives
about Barker’s observation skills than perhaps missing the entry does
negatives.
But wait! In tailing Watson,
Barker was not only spotted by the doctor, but according to the story,
Watson managed to lose Barker. What does that say about Barker’s skill
in following someone? (Holmes once said that, in response to a suspect stating
that he saw no one following him, that was what he could expect to see if
Holmes was following him.) Was Barker deficient in this area of the detective game?
Well, first, we must realize that it is Watson who’s reporting this.
Although we needn’t doubt the good doctor’s record of what he saw, we can
speculate about what conclusions can be drawn. First, recall that the story
takes place in 1898, so Watson had spent nearly 14 years working with Holmes.
It’s not inconceivable that, in that time period, the good doctor had developed
his own skills sufficiently to be able to lose a tail. And yet, Watson never
states nor implies that he deliberately lost the man following him. So did
Barker fail here? Perhaps—and if so, it means little, as even Holmes made
mistakes in some of his cases (for example, “The Yellow Face”) On the other
hand, perhaps Barker meant to be seen, as a warning to this suspicious
fellow to stay away from Amberley’s. And perhaps Barker finally decided that
this suspect really wasn’t worth further pursuit and broke off to return to his
stakeout. Then again, maybe Watson never actually lost Barker at all. If you
examine his actual statement, “I saw him once more at London Bridge, and then I
lost him in the crowd,” you could conclude that Watson merely lost sight
of his follower, who then pursued the doctor to his final destination,
determined him no threat, and returned to Amberley’s. (Of course, if he’d
followed Watson to Baker Street, Barker certainly would know that Holmes was on
the same case and not been at all surprised to learn the identity of the man
emerging from Amberley’s window . . .)
In examining Holmes’ testimony of Barker’s strengths verses Watson’s report of Barker’s pursuit, regardless of what happened in the latter, I think we are still safe in concluding that Barker was himself a master sleuth capable enough in his field that Holmes could honestly place him on a level comparable to his own as a more than competent rival in the whole art of detection. And when Holmes at last retired to the Sussex Downs, we believe that he could do so confident in the knowledge that all of London remained safe in the capable hands of his “hated rival upon the Surrey Shore”—Barker! (For a much longer version of this article, including numerous additional deductions and speculations, plus a possible earlier Canonical sighting of Barker, see the article “The Man Called Barker” on the Publications page of our Web site.)
After rereading a couple of our
past newsletters, I began to wonder whether someone may think that we have
something against Sherlockian purists, as we’ve mentioned them a couple times
in what could be misconstrued as a disparaging way. If that was the impression
you got, let me reassure you that we have nothing but respect for all
Sherlockians, whether they be purists, generalists, specialists—whatever. The
only problem that we may have with any Sherlockian who is a purist is if that
person is also an elitist.
To clarify, we probably should define what we mean
by a “purist” vs. an “elitist.” In essence, a Sherlockian “purist” is merely a
Sherlockian who prefers to read, discuss, and consider only the original
Sherlock Holmes stories by Doyle—the 60 tales that Sherlockians dub “the
Canon.” Some may “fudge” a bit to include other stories by Doyle among their
interests, especially those considered by some experts to be “semi-Canonical,”
or may also list one or two other related aspects of the hobby as “acceptable”
areas of study—especially Doyle himself. But the main focus of a purist’s
pursuit of the hobby lies squarely in the original Holmes stories. And there’s
certainly nothing wrong about that. Many great Sherlockians were purists—and we
tip our hats to them. The hobby wouldn’t be what it is today without them. We
simply mean to emphasize that we, as a scion, are not strictly purist in our
outlook. As our masthead proclaims, we enjoy Holmes in all his many
manifestations. The original Holmes stories are absolutely great—but so are a
lot of other aspects of the hobby. And we want you to know that you needn’t be
a purist to be welcome and to find like-minded Sherlockians at our meetings.
But we certainly wouldn’t turn away any purists either, should any want to
share with us their usually vast knowledge of the Canon.
A Sherlockian elitist,
however, is another story entirely. The elitist is the only exception to our
statement that we respect all Sherlockians. Elitists are poison to a true
Sherlockian scion. And they can suck the very life out of the entire hobby—not
to mention the fun—for far too many Sherlockians should they manage to take
root in a scion (or, even worse, gain control of one). So what exactly is
an elitist? Well, we hope that you’ve never had the misfortunate to run across
one—and, thankfully, they’re really very rare in our hobby (although, sadly,
not unknown). In fact, the vast majority of Sherlockians are great people and
not at all elitist in nature. But every group of any size has a few bad apples
(or, perhaps, rotten orange pips). You can tell the Sherlockian elitist by
checking the angle of his nose—straight up in the air (metaphorically speaking,
of course). The elitist is the kind of Sherlockian who looks down on others in
the hobby if they’re not “enlightened” enough to share his own particular area
of interest—an area that the elitist firmly believes is superior to all other
areas of Sherlockiana. Of course, that also makes the elitist superior (in his
own mind, at least) to all other Sherlockians. And a scion that focuses only on
the elitist’s own area of interest is also “superior” to those scions that
don’t or that have a broader range of interests — including perhaps the very
same scion that the elitist now belongs to at an earlier stage in its
existence. (Or course, to the elitist, before he and his views became
prevalent, that scion wasn’t really a scion—or perhaps he magnanimously
considers it merely to have “fallen into disrepute” or “entered a period of
indifference and drift” for a while, until it finally “came to its senses” and
got rid of all those trivial, “unworthy” Sherlockian pursuits. Coincidentally,
its “revival” often occurs at the time the elitist and his cronies either took
over or managed to crush out competing interests.)
Now, before anyone gets the wrong idea, let me clarify that I’m not talking about a scion that was founded or that focuses by design on a particular aspect of the hobby. Nor am I referring to scions that may revolve around a shared interest of members beyond a love of Sherlock Holmes—for example, professional scions (where all members are, say, lawyers or doctors) or multi-hobby scions (where all members are also, say, amateur beekeepers or role-playing gamers or the like). Such scions are not elitist. In fact, few scions, as a whole, are. You’re more likely to find an isolated elitist (or, worse, a clique of them) in an otherwise good scion. Rarely does the situation evolve beyond that. So if you belong to a scion, you can usually avoid its elitists, if any, and just hope that they eventually leave. (If they find out that they can’t dominate anyone else, they often do.) If you want to see a scion die, however, look for one of which the elitists have managed to take control. True, it may even continue on for many years—but at its heart, it’s deader than that poor dog on which Holmes tested the poison pill. It may even appear on the surface to be vibrant and open and alive, but as you get more deeply involved, you begin to see tell-tale signs.
Elitist
Scions—What to Watch Out For
Does a scion, for example, start out electing new
officers every year — but then the same two or three people begin to rotate
from year to year in a position? Or does one person become a perpetual
incumbent—a “president for life”? If so, elitists may have taken over
(especially if other people want to serve as officers but are opposed by an
incumbent who uses his incumbency to remain entrenched against all comers; if only
a handful wants to serve as officers, that’s entirely different.) You
also find, after elitists take over, that scion activities eventually take on a
boring sameness—all meetings are mainly, say, story discussions and a quiz,
while anything different is vetoed by the “officers” because it doesn’t fit
into their idea of a scion meeting (or they lack the originality to come up
with anything else). And if things were ever different in a scion’s past, the
elitists use scion newsletters, “special” anniversary brochures, and so on to
constantly pound into newer members that the scion’s old ways of doing things
were the “bad old days” and that today’s “new improved” or “back-on-track”
scion is the only way to go . . . if, of course, you’re a real
Sherlockian.
Even more telling, if an entire clique of elitists
is involved, are scion meetings in which the clique members all sit or gather
together, while new people, following perhaps a perfunctory greeting by
whoever’s “in charge,” are left to their own devices. The new people may even
have to sit alone at a separate table, ignored by the elitists. Any nonelitist
member who does choose to sit with the “outsiders” is similarly ignored.
Eventually, the elitist clique begins devising new “bylaws” for the scion,
sometimes even ramming through rules excluding entire categories of people that
the elitists don’t want around (children, for example) . . . and the scion is
on its way down. Sadly, the true Sherlockians eventually leave such scions, and
the elitists are freed to blow their own horns and proclaim how great they and
“their” scion are (which by then bares little resemblance to the original
group). Fortunately for the majority of good, honest Sherlockians that make up
the hobby, such groups really are rare—and, if they exist at all,
they’re rarely the only game in town.
So that’s what we mean by elitists. And although some
elitists may also be purists, certainly not all Sherlockians who are purists—by
far—are also elitists. The thing to remember, however, is that elitists are in no
way representative of our hobby as a whole. And if you ever see anyone in this
scion begin to act as just described, please do us a favor: Place a
good, solid, British hiking boot squarely in the middle of our hinder parts and
keep doing so until we get the idea. Elitists certainly may hate us for it, but
we want The Hated Rivals to remain an open and fun scion for all
Sherlockians, no matter how they like their Sherlock. (And for more information
on different types of Sherlockians, as well as an expanded rant on those nasty
elitists, check out the article “A Sherlockian Menagerie,” on our Web site.)
Well, that closes this edition
of “A Letter from Barker” (and all the permutations thereof). Drop by a meeting
or drop us an e-mail (see addresses at end of this newsletter) to learn more
about how much fun Sherlockiana can be as a hobby—or how you, too, can become a
Hated Rival on the Surrey Shore. In the meantime, I remain, your humble servant
. . .
--C. Barker
***
A stalwart group of Hated Rivals
braved the heat and humidity—plus the Independence weekend holiday crowds—to
enjoy a shared picnic lunch outside the grounds of the Conner Prairie Living
History Museum on Saturday, July 5. In addition to good eats and fine fellowship,
attendees engaged in a lively discussion of some of the latest Sherlockian
pastiches and other items to hit local and other markets, as well as some of
the most recent Internet offerings. Newest Rival Ed Amos also shared from a
trove of poems, sayings, and humor that he’d recently gleaned from the World
Wide Web. Among the activities was an exercise in observation and deductive
reasoning—putting a Sherlockian eye to such recent and past events as the 9/11
tragedy and the Oklahoma City bombing. Would Sherlock Holmes have merely
accepted the conventional media and government versions of such events? Or
would his trained investigator’s mind have uncovered certain discrepancies
and explored other . . . possibilities? The conclusions that the group arrived
at were often ingenious and occasionally startling! (For the fascinating
details, check with us at a future scion meeting. We dare not elaborate further
in such an unguarded venue . . .) Following lunch, several Rivals
ventured onto the museum grounds for additional adventures. All went home with
filled stomachs but hungry for future gatherings of the Hated Rivals on the
Surrey Shore.
***
In keeping with this issue’s
theme concerning our namesake, Mr. Barker, here’s a bit of trivia from the
Victorian underworld. The term barker was Victorian criminal slang for a
pistol—most likely an abbreviation of “barking irons,” as early pistols were
often known. The sound that they made was likened to that of a barking
dog—hence, the adjective. Whether this term was a conscience inspiration for
Doyle in his choice of names for Holmes rival, however, is unknown. (If anyone
should have any knowledge along these lines, however, please contact us.)
But the term wasn’t limited to
the underworld in Victorian times. It also served as the title for certain
types of agricultural workers in the countryside, whose specialty was stripping
the bark from trees. Such a worker was known, of course, as a barker.
***
I Hear of Sherlock
Everywhere!
The first issue of The League of Extraordinary
Gentlemen, Vol. II, hit the stands this past July. It starts out in 1898 on
Mars, with Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter, Warlord of Mars, leading an
assault by the different Martian races in the Burroughs Mars novels against an
enclave held by the octopoid Martians of H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds.
As Carter’s forces close in amid clouds of Black Smoke released by the tripod
war machines, the Martian invasion capsules launch to Earth. (Carter finds in
the deserted enclave a crystal egg, from the Wells story of the same name—just
as in the Wellmans' Sherlock Holmes War of the Worlds pastiche of the
’70s—showing scenes from London, indicating the aliens’ destination.) The first
installment of the story ends with Mina Harker (nee Murray), Allan
Quartermain, Capt. Nemo, Dr. Jekyll, and Griffin (the Invisible Man) emerging
from a coach (initialed V.R.) to view the crater of the first lander near
Horsell and Woking. After the graphic-novel portion of the book comes part one
of a text "travelogue" of numerous sites of legend and fiction around
Britain, including Baskerville Hall and Camford University (from “The Creeping
Man”). The inside back cover reprints period ads (and at least one
"pastiche" ad). The book's supposed to be on a monthly schedule, but
the people at the specialty comic store where I bought it told me that it may
actually come out on a more irregular schedule, as did the first series, which
stretched out across more than a year. (Although a recent issue of an advance
order book listed issue four for this October, and issue two just appeared on
the stands as of the last week in August.) So far, it looks like a good
follow-up to the first series, even though most of the first issue was a
lead-in to the actual action to come. No word yet as to whether Holmes the
younger will make another appearance, although rumors are that Mycroft has at
least a small role now that he’s taken over as the British Secret Service’s M
(a post that Moriarty held in the first series). The first series, already
available in a hardback collection, has now also been compiled as a trade
paperback and is available for order in specialty comic stores and most
bookstores—and on the Web, too.
The new mystery series on the USA Network, "Monk," had a Sherlockian reference in its first episode. The title character, Adrian Monk, played by Tony Shalhoub (formerly of "Wings" and other TV series) is a former police detective who now acts as a consultant for the police. (He developed a number of severe neuroses and obsessions following the murder of his wife and was discharged from the force.) In the first episode, he's described as having "a zen Sherlock Holmes thing" going. Although he's unlike Holmes in any other way, his observation and deductive abilities are very much like those of Holmes. In one episode, for example, he deduced that a woman had been having an affair with a suspect for five years by observing five annual commemorative champagne bottles on her mantle. In another, he deduced that an assassin was a former Special Forces soldier by observing that the drapery cords were curled in such a way as to hold steady a rifle—a trait learned in the service. It's an enjoyable show overall, a mixture of humor and adventure (even if a few holes were left in the plot of some shows aired so far). It's on the USA cable channel on Friday nights at 9 p.m. CDT (and repeated later in the following week).
The series "Murder Rooms" ended its run on PBS’s “Mystery” in mid-August. The series featured Charles Edwards as a young Conan Doyle involved in and solving crimes along with his former teacher, Dr. Joseph Bell (played ably in the series by Ian Richardson, who also played Holmes in two movies in the '80s). The stories, taking place in the early 1880s, are fictional but billed as the inspirations for many of Doyle’s Holmes stories. (The series is subtitled, in fact, “The Dark Beginnings of Sherlock Holmes.”) One story, for example, involved a “solitary cyclist” and a frightening stalker—a tale that ended sadly for Doyle. In another, a circus poster screamed “The Giant Rat of Sumatra!” The same episode also included references to Doyle’s Professor Challenger and The Lost World. If you missed the series this time around, keep an eye on the TV listings, as it’ll surely be rerun before too long.
Curious Incidents: Being the Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes is a collection of six new
Holmes stories written by Sherlockians: “The Case of Vamberry, The Wine
Merchant” (one of Watson’s many “untold” tales), by James R. Stefanie; “The
Adventure of the Lodger's Secret,” by Kristin Vichich; “A Slaying in Suburbia,”
by G. Kelly; “The First Mate's Jacket,” by J. R. Campbell; “The Case of Lady
Sannox,” by Peter H. Wood; and “The Adventure of the Tired Captain,” by Bob
Byrne. The 96-page trade paperback also features illustrations by Phil Cornell
and can be ordered via check, money order, or cash from Mad For A Mystery,
Suite D 308, 3805 Marlborough Drive N. E., Calgary, AB T2A 5M4, Canada.
Post-paid prices are $10 U.S. for surface mail and $12 for air mail. (For
additional ordering information, especially in Canada and overseas, visit
www.bakerstreetdozen.com/ciorders.html.)
Hated Rival Jon Burroughs will again be portraying Indiana’s famed Victorian-era poet, James Whitcomb Riley, in two upcoming venues. First up is an 11 a.m. show on Saturday, August 31, at the Church in Riley Square in Greenfield, IN (East of Indianapolis, off I-70 or U.S. 40/Washington Street). Second is Saturday and Sunday, from noon to 4 p.m., October 5 and 6, at the Riley Birthplace Museum, on East Main Street (U.S. 40) in Greenfield. If you haven’t seen one of Jon’s portrayals, we urge you to drop by one of those dates. If you need more information, contact us, and we’ll put you in touch.
***
Coming Meetings!
A Grave Investigation!
Sunday, September 8, from
1:15 to 4 p.m.
Crown Hill Cemetery, 700 W.
38th Street, Indianapolis, IN
Directions
and Details: Take
West 38th Street to Crown Hill, which lies about 7 blocks west of Meridian
Street. Turn south on Boulevard Place, just east of the cemetery, and enter at
the 34th Street entrance at 34th and Boulevard Place.
Follow the white line painted on the road to the Gothic Chapel. We’ll meet at
the Chapel at 1:15 p.m. and be taking a guided tour of many of the cemetery’s
Civil War-era sites at 2. Cost for the tour is $5 ($4 for seniors over 55, $3
for students). The tour ends at about 3:30 p.m. back at the Chapel, after which
we’ll take the optional hike to the top of Crown Hill itself. Following is an
optional early dinner at a local restaurant. (Note: The tour goes on
even in the rain, unless it’s a severe downpour, so do come anyway—but bring an
umbrella.)
“…Afghanistan, I Perceive”
Saturday, November 9, from
1:30 to 4 p.m.
Lawrence Library, 7898 N.
Hague Rd., Indianapolis, IN
Location
and Details: The
Library is on North Hague Road, just a few blocks south of 82nd
Street and just north of Lawrence North High School. Meeting activities include
a talk on “Afghanistan in the Victorian Age,” by our own resident Victorian
expert, Bill Barton, and a short Sherlockian video program, as well as a
Sherlockian musical performance by the new duo “Holmes and Watson.” We’ll also
be celebrating Lady Molly’s birthday with cake and other refreshments and
taking suggestions and discussing ideas for our 2003 meetings. Fun, food, and
great fellowship—all for free!—a combination you won’t want to miss.
For
more information, contact us c/o Bill Barton, P.O. Box 26290, Indianapolis, IN
46226-0290; or Mimi DeMore, P.O. Box 482, Fishers, IN 46038. Contact us by e-mail at
barker@surrey-shore.freeservers.com or ladymolly@hotmail.com. (And don’t forget
to venture online to check out our Hated Rivals Web site at
http://surrey-shore.freeservers.com or our Indy Star Web page at
http://community.indystar.com/928/ for recent updates.) See you again back on
the ol’ Surrey Shore, where the game’s always . . . well, you know!