From The Surrey Shore . . .
The Newsletter of the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore Vol. 1, No. 5, October 2002
****A Scion Society for All Who Enjoy Sherlock Holmes in All His Manifestations!****
“You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive.” With these seven fateful words (following a short, perfunctory greeting), Dr. Arthur Conan Doyle introduced to history the Master Sleuth of Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes, in A Study in Scarlet. And Dr. John H. Watson, late of the Indian Army and recently returned to London following his service for the Queen in the Second Afghan War, was about to embark on the adventures of a lifetime. But just where did that harsh, central Asian country—so recently a topic of modern international relations—fit in the scheme of things for Watson and Victorian England as a whole? To find out, you can join the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore at our next meeting, on Saturday, November 9, from 1:30 to 4 p.m., at the Lawrence Library, 7898 N. Hague Road, in Indianapolis. Featured on our program is a talk on “Afghanistan in the Victorian Age,” by our own expert, William A. Barton, author of two Victorian-era sourcebooks (and another in the works). We’ll also enjoy the Sherlockian music of the new duo “Holmes and Watson” and view a pair of rare, short Sherlockian TV shows from the early 1950s (starring Ronald Howard—not Opie—as Holmes). We’re also celebrating the joint birthdays of our own Lady Molly of Scotland Yard and our newest scion officer, Amelia Peabody (see “Meeting Notes”), so plan on eating a light lunch so that you have plenty of room for cake and other refreshments. Finally, we want to discuss next year’s meetings and get some feedback from you as to what you’d like to see in the way of meetings for 2003. And all this is absolutely free! (For more details and directions to the library, see the “Coming Meetings” section at the end of this newsletter.) And, okay—ya got us. We’re not really invading Afghanistan. (But maybe at a future meeting . . ?)
Yes, this is almost the last time that you’ll be hearing from me . . . at least this year. Technically, one final newsletter for 2002 is due for December, although it’ll be focusing on our first meeting for 2003, in January (yet another birthday celebration—for Sherlock Holmes, no less). So that will actually be the last time that you hear from me . . . for 2002. Sorry, but I plan to keep sending you letters from Barker in 2003, although I’m hoping that, next year, Lady Molly will be joining me in penning various missives for our scion as well—and maybe we can even persuade others to do so, too. (Quick, Watson—the needle! And show just how persuasive you can be with the scalpel and those nasty tong-like things as well.) Okay, that’s enough reassurances. Let’s see what trouble I can get into this issue, shall we . . .?
No, your humble servant, Barker, hasn’t been reading too much Mad Magazine nor adopted an Alfred E. Neumann alter ego. I’m just responding to someone pointing out a perceived discrepancy between the article in our last newsletter (and the expanded version on our Web site) characterizing the Canonical Barker, as described by Watson in “The Retired Colourman,” as “taciturn” verses the rather lengthy Letters from Barker that run in this newsletter. Well, sorry to disappoint, but there’s really no discrepancy involved. The word “taciturn” simply means that one doesn’t talk a lot. True, the Canonical Barker was indeed a man of few words—if you look only at his speech patterns. (And that is all that Watson shows us in the original story.) It doesn’t necessarily mean, however, that one’s correspondence is similarly terse. Frequently, those who are quite eloquent and even florid speakers are not always of the same habits in their writings—and vice versa. Your unassuming (ahem!) Hated Rivals correspondent (moi!) obviously falls well into the latter category. One could say that I have plenty of the write stuff. (But you probably wish that I hadn’t.)
Yes, amazingly, I’ve received word of a foul assassination plot against your meek, self-effacing scion president, Barker. Word on the street among the criminal elements in London is that the nefarious Josiah Amberley—whom Barker put away for his evil murders in “The Retired Colourman” (ably assisted, of course, by his rival in Baker Street)—prior to his death in Her Majesty’s prison system, hired an assassin to wreak vengeance against his erstwhile nemeses. According to our sources, one attempt has already been made on the life of Sherlock Holmes at his retirement cottage in the Sussex Downs. Holmes, whose mind is still sharp as a scalpel and his body nearly as fit, thanks to the preservative powers of Royal Jelly, foiled the plot, but the fiendish, apparently equally long-lived assassin managed to elude capture. As he was unable to locate the real Barker—who seems to have mysteriously vanished at some point following the original story—the assassin has now set his sights on what he perceives to be the next best thing, the president of the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore scion of the BSI: me.
Informants in the know have pinpointed our next scion meeting as the moment when this villain will make his dastardly move. Well, let me assure you that this threat, although not taken lightly, will never deter your humble president from fulfilling his scion duties. So, I say, let the scoundrel take his best shot! He’ll find the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore, who are well-studied at the feet of the Master Sleuth, quite up to the task of thwarting his malevolent scheme. So you need have no fear whatsoever in attending our next meeting—with the Rivals forewarned and ready, everyone there will be just as safe as if cradled in a mother’s arms. (Well, provided of course that the mother herself isn’t a total wacko.) So please do join us to see how this drama plays out. I can almost guarantee that it will present its own little points of interest.
Although It’s Waaay Past Independence Day . . .
A few of you have asked why we bill ourselves as Indianapolis’ only independent scion. Well, if you look at the various listings of scion societies by area, you may find that three other scions are listed for Indianapolis, in addition to your favorite Hated Rivals. But if you cross-check the membership lists of those three scions, you quickly discover many of the same names cropping up on all of them (including all their leaders and/or group contacts). So although those three “separate” scions are all different in name, they actually appear to be much the same in terms of members. (And if you contact more than one of these other scions, you may very well end up talking to or corresponding with the same person.) Not, of course, that there’s anything necessarily wrong with that, but it can become somewhat confusing or may even seem misleading, perhaps, to some, especially those new to the hobby. So why all the crossovers? Well, we can’t really say for sure, not being at all privy to any of the goings-on of these other scions. We could, of course, venture some guesses, but any such speculations would be simply that — the other scion(s) in town, for whatever the reason, have chosen not to share such information with us. (Why the apparent cold shoulder — and, of course, we’re not referring to the one that Mrs. Hudson laid out on the sideboard for Holmes and Watson to dine on? Who can say? If we ever find out, we’ll of course let you know.)
We do realize that, to some people, the number of organizations that one belongs to or the initials that one can place behind one’s name is very important — perhaps even a measure of one’s self-worth. And although we don’t share such needs ourselves, we certainly wouldn’t want to begrudge such a comfort to anyone else. So perhaps that’s the reason behind the overlapping scions. (Or maybe not. Just a guess.) But whatever the reason, again, if you do choose to closely scrutinize scion membership lists, you’ll find that, in reality, Indianapolis has only two separate scions: The Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore (us!) and the other(s). Although several Hated Rivals are former members of one of those other group(s), we currently have no crossovers in membership. (Of course, if anyone from those group(s) has any interest in the kinds of activities we engage in and ever wants to attend our meetings, that’s fine with us. And if not, well, we’re perfectly okay with that, too.) So that’s why, of the four listed Indianapolis scions, we consider ourselves (and quite validly, we believe) the only totally independent one. (And anyone at all is perfectly free to disagree with that assessment, of course, just as we are entitled to our own opinion — until any facts prove otherwise. The hobby would be a dull place indeed if everyone agreed on all aspects of Sherlockiana.) Anyway, we don’t expect our current status to change—unless, of course, yet another scion should arise in the city with entirely new Sherlockians, independent of both us and those other collective scion(s). And if so, that’s fine, too—Indianapolis has plenty of room for five (three?) Sherlockian scions doing different kinds of things. Hey—the more the merrier, we always say!
And that closes this (almost, next-to-) last letter (for 2002) from your ever-faithful servant, Barker. (Only should the treacherous assassin mentioned earlier succeed in his wicked ploy could this possibly be the last one—and we all, of course, know that’s never going to happen.) So until I again enjoy the pleasure of your company at the next meeting or through the next newsletter, I remain, ever yours . . .
—C. Barker, Esq.
Our flyer for the September meeting of the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore declared “Sherlock Holmes Fans Ignite!” And considering the temperature and humidity levels that greeted us at Crown Hill Cemetery on Sunday afternoon, September 8—a high of 94 and a dew point of 71 degrees—it was almost surprising that those in attendance didn’t spontaneously combust. (Perhaps Professor Moriarty has extended his mastery of the dynamics of asteroids to the area of weather control.) Despite the withering heat and the sticky, tropical atmosphere, a goodly number of Hated Rivals did turn out for a short business meeting and a tour of the historic site. The main order of business for the meeting was the unanimous election of Hated Rival Suzanne Snyder as the scion’s historian/recorder for 2003 (as well as the remainder of 2002), with the scion name of Amelia Peabody (an archaeologist who acts as a “rival” of Sherlock Holmes in solving mysteries in a series of recent novels set in the late Victorian years till just prior to WWI). The meeting also featured a reading by Bill Barton of his Sherlockian/Lovecraftian pastiche, “An Elemental Adventure,” a tongue-in-cheek short story originally published in 1983 in the Client’s Case-Notes, edited by Brian A. McDonald. Because of the beastly temperatures, however, only one very stalwart Rival in attendance opted to brave the blistering heat index for the tour (see following tour report). The rest of us adjourned early to the air-conditioned comfort of the Aristocrats restaurant on North College Avenue for an after-event dinner and further Sherlockian talk and companionship. Despite most of us missing the cemetery tour, a turn of events that we gravely regretted, a fabulous time was had by all. (Of course, what else can one expect of any Hated Rivals meeting?)
By Suzanne Snyder
Following our last meeting in the Gothic Chapel of Crown Hill Cemetery, all Hated Rivals but the intrepid Amelia wisely (?) opted out of the Civil War graves tour — it being one of the hottest days of summer, around 90+ degrees in the shade. Amelia, as is her wont, shouldered her water bottle, adjusted her hat brim to shade her eyes, and joined 15 or so other red-faced, heavily perspiring lunatics (plus a film crew to document the lunacy) to tromp over hill and dale for two hours in the heat of the day. While on the excursion — or should we say “exertion”? — Amelia picked up some interesting facts to share with her fellow Hated Rivals from Mr. Davis, the tour guide, and from a Civil War reenactment buff who was a font of information about Indiana’s Civil War regiments.
The earliest Indianapolis cemetery, commonly known as City Cemetery (though it went by several names, including Greenlawn), was located about seven blocks southwest of the Circle, on the west side of Kentucky Avenue. City Cemetery no longer exists; its location is and has been for some time an industrial area, although — disturbingly — some unmarked graves are likely still there. Between 1864 (when Crown Hill Cemetery was dedicated) and the 1890s, many families (including those of early Indiana governors Noah Noble and James Whitcomb) moved their loved ones’ remains to Crown Hill because the graves in the old cemetery had fallen into a state of severe neglect. The bones of an estimated 1,616 Confederate prisoners of war, many of whom died of sickness at the infamous Camp Morton, also were relocated to a mass grave at Crown Hill, after being exhumed from the old cemetery in 1933. Much more recently, a private citizen erected granite slabs bearing the names of these soldiers. Amelia thinks, if memory serves her correctly, that a large monument commemorating these soldiers also can be found at Garfield Park.
South of the Gothic Chapel, within the boundaries of Crown Hill, is a National Cemetery that, like its famous sister, Arlington National Cemetery, is owned by the U.S. government. Here the bodies of 708 Union soldiers are buried, under uniformly placed rows of markers. Interestingly, the body of a Union deserter, who apparently claimed Confederate allegiance when captured, is also buried there, having been court-martialed and sentenced to death by a firing squad composed of other men from his unit. He was seated at the edge of his coffin so that he would fall into it at death. In his last moments, the man asked forgiveness for his actions and then pointed at his heart and begged the shooters to take careful aim. They did, he fell back as planned, and — as he had paid for his misdoings — he was buried with other Union soldiers. Other sites of interest included the graves of more than a dozen or so Civil War generals, a woman who had actively nursed soldiers at Camp Morton, two black Union soldiers, and an actress who had tread the boards with leading man John Wilkes Booth. All these sites were dutifully noted and appreciated by Amelia, who, while swatting mosquitoes that had surprisingly emerged from the mostly dead grass, was reminded vividly of the “swamp fever” that is said to have carried off many of Indianapolis’s initial residents (not to mention West Nile virus!). At least two months have passed, however, and Amelia is still with us, in reasonably good health, so she apparently managed to evade the pestilence on that occasion!
Game for another round of Victorian Trivia? How about the Great Game? And for those not in the know, we’re not talking about baseball, football, basketball, or even soccer or cricket. The Great Game was the term given to the international rivalry between the British Empire and the expanding Russian Empire that took place mainly in Central Asia during the Victorian period, lasting until the British-French-Russian Entente in the subsequent Edwardian years. Much of the Great Game was played out along the frontiers of British India and in neighboring countries—including the focus of our coming meeting and of recent world attention, Afghanistan. In fact, both the First and Second Afghan Wars were sparked by various political maneuverings that were an integral part of the Great Game between Britain and Russia. (For details about such intrigues, come to our November meeting or look for the article “Afghanistan in the Victorian Age,” which we plan to post on the Publications page of our Web site sometime following the meeting.)
The term “Great Game” was first coined to refer to this rivalry between the British lion and the Russian bear by one Captain Arthur Conolly, a British officer, who was executed at Bokhara in 1842 while playing the Game. It was popularized by British writer Rudyard Kipling in his classic novel of espionage in late Victorian India, Kim. In some circles, the term has more recently been extended as a blanket expression for all forms of espionage during the 19th century. But to the Victorian—and especially to the savvy British diplomat, politician, or soldier—to talk of the Great Game was to focus one’s attention eastward, to the exotic climes of the British Raj in India as well as to the harsher hills and deserts of tribal Afghanistan. And although the term never appears in the Sherlockian Canon, one needs look only to John H. Watson, M.D., to find one of the more famous players, however minor his role may have been, in the ongoing Victorian struggle of the Great Game—as he met his fate in the form of a Jezail bullet that would eventually lead him to 221B Baker Street.
I Hear of Sherlock Everywhere!
Fans of both Sherlock Holmes and the Cthulhu Mythos of H.P. Lovecraft have a treat in store from Gryphon Books: Four pastiches by Ralph Vaughn, immersing not only the Great Detective, but also Doyle’s Professor Challenger (The Lost World, etc.) in the chaos and intrigue of the Mythos, as well as in Lovecraft’s Dreamlands. The individual books (and prices) in the series are Sherlock Holmes and the Ancient Gods ($5.95), Sherlock Holmes in the Dreaming Detective ($9.95), Professor Challenger in the Dreamlands ($9.95), and Sherlock Holmes and the Terror Out of Time ($15). The first is a reprint of a story that originally appeared in The Holmesian Federation fanzine in the ’80s, but the others are all originals. Gryphon Books also offers a volume reprinting many short Holmes pastiches by Frank Thomas, author of such enjoyable full-length pastiches as Sherlock Holmes and the Sacred Sword and Sherlock Holmes and the Masquerade Murders. This book is entitled, simply, Sherlock Holmes Mystery Tales ($16). Order from Gryphon Books, Box 209, Brooklyn, NY 11228 (or visit its Web site at www.gryphonbooks.com). P&H is $1.50 for the first book and $.50 per additional book, sent by media mail. (And Gryphon has many other Sherlockian titles available—including rare collector’s items such as Sherlock Holmes War of the Worlds and other pastiches—so check out its catalog on the Web or request one by mail.)
Sherlock Holmes on the Roof of the World, by Thomas Kent Miller, is a fun little pastiche set during Holmes’ Great Hiatus in Tibet. It’s a slim volume—fewer than 100 pages—but is worth the cost, especially if you’re also a fan of the She novels of H. Rider Haggard, as characters from those books also appear. Order from Thomas Kent Miller, c/o Rosehill House, P.O. Box 7692, Redlands, CA 92375-0692. Cost for the book and postage and handling is $20.
Mycroft Holmes makes an appearance in Issue 3 of The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Vol. II, which appeared on the stands of specialty comic stores in September. In his position as M, head of the British Secret Service, he coordinates the League’s efforts against the Martian invasion of England. If you’re not already following the series (and if you’re at all a fan of Victorian popular culture, you should be), you may be able to find back issues at some of the stores that carry the series—but you want to hurry. These sell out fast—in fact, issues 1 and 2 are already gone, although plans are afoot to reprint both in an omnibus volume (although minus the text travelogue portions). If you find that you’re already too late, the entire series is likely to be collected in hard- and paperback volumes within the next year or two. Keep an eye on this space for future details. (Note: Issue 4 has been delayed until November 20.)
October 25 was certainly Sherlock Holmes night on cable TV, as two cable channels ran brand-new competing Holmes movies nearly simultaneously. The Hallmark Channel presented the fourth in its series of Holmes movies starring Matt Frewer as the Great Detective, The Case of the Whitechapel Vampire, at 9 p.m. Eastern. Meanwhile, starting an hour earlier, the USA cable network ran its own new Holmes movie, Case of Evil, with James D’Arcy as a much younger Holmes. The air date was too close to this newsletter’s presstime to view either movie (and as our own cable company doesn’t carry Hallmark, someone else had to videotape the Frewer movie for me), so no reviews are possible. Based on previews, however, the USA movie appears mainly to consist of sensationalist, revisionist tripe with little to do with the original Holmes canon. This “Holmes” is a typical Hollywood pretty-boy womanizer who bares little resemblance to Doyle’s detective, except in name. (You know you’re in trouble when the previews boldly declare “Forget everything you know about Sherlock Holmes.”) And a preview closeup of the youngster in a deerstalker and smoking a calabash pipe was almost laughable. As this movie comes from an Eastern European studio that’s mainly known for cheap, exploitive gorefests, it’s not surprising. Just disappointing. Here’s hoping that the Frewer film, despite its title, is more redeeming.
The 10/16 issue of the Guardian Unlimited online newspaper included in its Sciences section an article with the following headline: “Sherlock Holmes Honoured for Elementary Work.” Holmes, it seems, has been awarded an honorary fellowship in Royal Society of Chemistry for being “the first detective to use chemical science as an ‘elementary’ means of cracking crime”—the first fictional character ever to receive such an honor. The award came on the 100th anniversary of the publication of Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles and was “presented” to Holmes’ statue outside Baker Street Station in London. Appropriately, a mastiff hound took part in the ceremony, and the award’s presenter was described by the paper as “a namesake of the detective’s mythical biographer, Dr. John Watson.” The complete article can be found on the paper’s Web site at http://education.co.uk/higher/news/story/0,9830,812905,00.html.
The Morris-Butler House Victorian museum in central Indianapolis is running its progressive mystery play, From Dark Pages, again this year, on weekends through October. The play takes attendees through the rooms of the house in search of Jack the Ripper, encountering various characters of Victorian fact and fiction — their guides are none other than Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and his own greatest creation, Sherlock Holmes! Cost is $10/person (and each group is limited in size, so reservations are necessary). As a side note, the first two productions of From Dark Pages, which originally ran in 1992 and 1993, were filled with proto-Hated Rivals (then members of another scion). Our own Mimi DeMore was instrumental in the conception and plotting of the play and directed it as well. Hated Rivals Bill Barton and Jon Burroughs wrote much of the original script (although some changes have been made in the subsequent years). Bill also portrayed Sherlock Holmes both years, while Jon played Edgar Allen Poe the first year and Doyle the second. Mimi and Rival Ronda David-Burroughs also had roles both years. (We plan an article in a future newsletter about this piece of Hated Rivals prehistory.) For information about this year’s production, call the Morris-Butler House at 1-317-636-5409.
Rosebud Graphic Classic is publishing a series of trade-paperback graphic and illustrated editions of the works of various (so far) 19th-century authors. Volume two in the series features works by Arthur Conan Doyle. (Volume one showcases 13 of Edgar Allen Poe’s works, and Volume three focuses on H.G. Wells.) The Doyle volume features three Holmes stories, along with other works — including full graphic-novel adaptations of “The Adventure of the Copper Beeches,” The Hound of the Baskervilles, and The Lost World; a reprint with illustrations of “The Adventure of the Speckled Band”; an illustrated except from Doyle’s The Coming of the Fairies; and graphic adaptations of three of Doyle’s lesser-known stories. The Poe and Wells volumes are equally of interest to aficionados of Victorian horror and scientific romance — although, for some unfathomable reason, the Wells volume’s adaptation of War of the Worlds uses the Orson Welles radio version instead of H.G. Wells’ classic. The Doyle and Wells volumes cost $9.95 and the Poe volume $7.95. You can order these books from specialty comic books stores, most bookstores, and several sources on the Internet. (The Doyle volume would be an especially good introduction for younger readers, although it’s quite suitable for young-at-heart adults as well.) Next up: H.P. Lovecraft.
The Lost World—a Mini-Review of A&E’s Miniseries
Speaking of Doyle’s Professor Challenger (as we were just a bit ago), yet another new version of The Lost World premiered earlier this month on the A&E cable channel—a two-part miniseries this time. In many ways, this version was far more faithful to the original story than many other recent offerings have been. This time, the story was not only set in the correct time period, but the lost plateau was actually located where Doyle set it, in the Amazon rainforest of South America (instead of in Africa or Tibet, as in two previous film versions). The journey at least started out with all the correct characters of the correct nationality and no gratuitous additions. (Roxton wasn’t missing, as in one version, for example, or an evil American, as in another.) And although Bob Hoskins wasn’t the perfect Challenger to our mind’s eye, at least he was more in character that a beardless Patrick Bergin in the next most recent version. Plus the special effects were quite good, with very realistic-looking dinosaurs (although the series’ apemen left something to be desired). Not surprising considering that the same effects-crew that created the computer-generated dinos for the Discovery Channel’s Walking with Dinosaurs specials also handled this production.
Unfortunately, the people behind the miniseries couldn’t resist making countless unnecessary, albeit minor, changes in the original story. (Why, for example, did they think it necessary to change the discoverer of the plateau from Doyle’s 19th-century American, Maple White, to a 16th-century Portuguese padre—who “coincidentally” so resembled Professor Challenger?) After arriving in Brazil, however, the party was joined by the obligatory female character that all filmmakers routinely insert into updates of 19th-century all-male adventure stories to appeal to more modern sensibilities. (At least as the niece of a local missionary and not a rich adventuress or a “jungle girl” or some other similar silly touch, as in other versions, her presence was somewhat logical.) The absolute worst change was replacing the murderous half-breed of the original (not “politically correct,” we suppose), who stranded the party on the plateau in Doyle’s story, with an anti-evolutionist missionary, played by Peter Falk (who all too predictably ends up a pathetic, raving lunatic). Just another tiresome, knee-jerk example of today’s “entertainment” industry’s continual Christian-bashing. (If the miniseries wasn’t so generally well-done otherwise, we’d almost give it a thumbs-down just for this odious cliché.) One other not-so-minor change resulted in Roxton’s seeming death (and abandonment on the plateau while the others escaped). Coupled with the sudden coverup of the plateau’s true nature by the others at the end, this turn of events undercut the book’s (sadly unfulfilled) promise of a future expedition to the lost plateau by Roxton and Malone.
Overall, however, we give A&E’s The Lost World a qualified recommendation. Until someone finally has the insight and courage to film a version that follows Doyle’s story even more closely, this one is at least the best of an otherwise mediocre lot. (And those who want their own copy but neglected to tape it can even purchase the entire miniseries – sans commercials – from A&E’s Web site, at www.ande.com.)
“…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 East 82nd Street and just north of the Lawrence North High School, on the Northeast side of Indianapolis. 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 the birthdays of officers Lady Molly and Amelia Peabody 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 that you simply won’t want to miss. (Be there or be . . . somewhere else. But the latter’s not going to be nearly as much fun!)
Time and Place: TBA
Details: We’re planning on meeting as a group—not only current scion officers but also anyone else who’s interested in having a hand in planning out our next year’s meetings—some time following our November meeting. Details are sketchy at the moment, but one possible location is a quaint little inn that we’ve found just east of Indianapolis that serves Victorian teas. If you’re interested in attending, please contact us at one of the addresses below. The exact time and place will depend largely on who can attend—and when. We hope to hear from you if you’d like to join us for tea and brainstorming!
January, March, May, July, September, November 2003
Details: None just yet, although we plan to celebrate Sherlock Holmes’ birthday in January and are looking into other possibilities, such as a Victorian pitch-in and perhaps a Sherlockian film festival. So stay tuned!
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. E-mail us at firstname.lastname@example.org or at email@example.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!