Faraway? Nearby? Places

When I started the Lottie Albright series I fully intended to use fictitious names for places. Because we Kansans are a bit touchy and quick to see an insult where none is intended.

In fact, there's an old joke that someone asked where a man was from. He joked, "Kansas. Now laugh damn you."

Fully half of the counties in Kansas had vicious county seat fights during the organizational stage of development. Of course I couldn't use a real county name. That would just be asking for trouble. So my series is set in Carlton County Kansas. Smart choice. No county in Kansas was ever named Carlton. Some county names disappeared when districts merged.

The town in the series is Gateway City. I don't believe there was ever a Gateway City in Kansas. I was charmed by the headline in a newspaper in Sherman County that declared Goodland was the Gateway to everything important in the West. Sojourners were especially encouraged to stop in Goodland on their way to Denver.

I steered away from existing city names because of the ancient animosity between some of the towns. For instance, in the early 1900s, Goodland hired a rainmaker. But lo and behold, it rained on Colby. Goodland sued it's neighbor for stealing its rain.

Then I messed up. I thoughtlessly said the Fiene family's housekeeper came from Studley, Kansas. I needed that town because it was settled by Englishmen in the 1800s and I wanted Zola Hodson to have been trained in estate management by an English grandfather.

Studley was a lively community. Many of the men were "remittance men." This term was given to English second or third sons who would never inherit under the laws of primogeniture. Only the first sons were blessed with the land and property. Remittance men were paid an allowance and politely urged to get lost. The population of Studley did its best to recreate jolly old England. They rode to the hounds--substituting jack rabbits--and partook of high tea.

Other names crept into other various books. My last mystery, Fractured Families, begins in the strangest place in all Kansas--the Garden of Eden. It is a marvel of grass roots art. The joined sculptures surround a block and endorse a passionate populist political philosophy. No place in the United States can be substituted for the Garden of Eden.

My next book, Silent Sacrifices, contains a lot of information about the Kansas Salt Mines. As with the Garden of Eden, there simply can't be another name used for this powerful geological marvel. Plus, it's creepy. The ideal place for "strange things afoot."

I started out with pure intentions and kept places fictional, but in this state, facts are always stranger than fiction.

Making Do

Last Friday I drove back to Kansas to give a talk at the annual meeting of the Solomon Valley Highway 24 Alliance. It was nothing short of miraculous that the weather was unseasonably pleasant both in Colorado and Kansas.

I don't mind long drives. I listen to audiobooks written by writers I haven't had an opportunity to read. Flying is impossible when I take an assortment of books along. I always drive when I can make my destination in a day.

The growth of the Solomon Valley Alliance was very impressive. Once again I'm stunned by the energy and accomplishments of small rural communities. Budget cuts have about brought Kansas to its knees. Everything is do-it-yourself. We make the most of what we have. We make do.

Much to my delight I was awarded a special merit plaque for writing Nicodemus: Post-Reconstruction Politics and Racial Justice in Western Kansas. Additionally, I received an exquisite miniture copper windmill.

When people ask me where I live, I always say Kansas. My kids look at me funny because I've been in Colorado eight years now. But here's my story and I'm sticking to it: Colorado was once part of Kansas Territory. I don't care what these ignorant people call this state. I would never leave Kansas.

The next day I went to the Kansas Salt Mines. What an amazing trip. And yes, it has everything to do with my next mystery. The mines are 650 feet underground and the humidity and temperature are constant year round. The mines are where the negatives of Ben Hur, Gone With the Wind, The Wizard of Oz and countless other films are kept. There are thousands of government documents stored in the mines.

There's nothing like on-the-spot research. The mines are not at all like I had imagined from on-line reading. There are so many tunnels, the ceilings are lower, and I still can't understand how the shape could be so perfectly rectangular.

The Salt Mines are a natural wonder. But in the make-the-most-of-what-you-have category, a wonderful lady who helped me with my book signing introduced herself as "the ball of twine in Cawker City."

Oh, you've never heard of this? Kansas has the world's largest ball of twine. People come from all over the world to see it. She said recently there was even a vistor from Mongolia.

But you would have to live there to understand this brand of humor. And who would have thought the ball of twine would become a leading tourist attraction.