No, it’s not Book Review Monday! but both of these books are among my favorites. And they’re connected. Any guesses how? (theme from Jeopardy playing)

Times up! The connection is two Chicago World’s Fairs–The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson takes place during the World’s Columbian Exposition, also known as the Chicago World’s Fair of 1893, and The Hatbox Baby by Carrie Brown during the Chicago World’s Fair of 1933. Forty years separate the two events, Larson’s retelling is nonfiction and Brown’s is fiction. Larson begins with the conception of the fair and follows all the wonders and woes of bringing it to life, (including a real murder mystery thread that runs through the narrative); Brown’s takes place against the backdrop of a world’s fair already in full swing.

Reading The Devil in the White City is a bit like reading a specific slice of history. Familiar names–John Olmsted (designer of NYC’s Central Park and the Biltmore gardens is a major character), Buffalo Bill, Thomas Edison, Susan B. Anthony and others–pepper the story putting the people in a real time context. Reading about the new inventions like the incandescent lightbulb, illustrated items that are now commonplace. One element of suspense was if the newly conceived Ferris Wheel was not only going to be finished on time, but would it actually work and be safe. (I ride Cedar Point’s Big Wheel and still in awe of how it all works and doesn’t topple over, and to think there used to be a double Ferris Wheel on CP’s midway!)

In The Hatbox Baby, the underlying story is what happens to a preemie, nestled in a hatbox, and left where a doctor is exhibiting a new device–the incubator–that he claims saves the lives of preemies and sickly newborns. (This isn’t a spoiler for anyone who might read the book. You find this out within the first few pages.) While this is a work of fiction, Brown did draw on a real person to create her Dr. Leo Hoffman.

As Brown writes in her acknowledgments, Dr. Martin A. Couney was a physician who traveled world’s fairs and kept his Infantorium, as he called it, on Coney Island. He charged admission to view the Infantorium, with its rows of incubators, but never charged the families for the medical care their babies received. The money collected was used to run his hospital and further advance his medical research. By all accounts Dr. Couney was well-respected by his peers and is credited for saving thousands of lives.

Here’s where writing and research become interesting and fun. Years ago, when I was researching old newspapers for the church book and spending days in front of the microfiche machines at the library, headlines other than ones for my specific search would jump out at me. This one did: ‘Incubator Man’ has Saved 2750 Lives! I’d already read The Hatbox Baby and knew this had to be the same doctor. The newspaper was dated August 6, 1926, and the article was about infants who had once been in the incubators in an Infantorium on Coney Island, and returning as older children to view the machines. They were called alumni and weren’t charged the admission to enter.

It was about Dr. Martin A. Couney and his babies. He was interviewed and he comes across as a very compassionate man. He explained the babies arrived mostly from other hospitals, were from rich and poor families alike, and he kept them until they were six pounds and healthy, about two months. Having had a preemie Grand myself who benefitted from that early intervention, that connection to Dr. Couney’s device goes beyond the coincidental book and news clipping, it’s personal.

I’m not sure what little tidbit Carrie Brown read that led to her novel, but after reading that article my mind went to ‘how cool/interesting/curious that would be!?’ and the scribblings of a new piece about those early saved children returning.  

And that’s why I’m a newspaper hoarder … of sorts. Newspapers are gold mines of everyday and historical events and discoveries, and curiosities, oddities, and quirks that make for great story lines, settings, or character personalities. Yesterday I cleaned and reorganized my office and came across this collection of clipped nuggets. I reread the obit that included the deceased’s dislike of chocolate Tootsie-Pops, (I found it wonderful and amusing the family included that), an epigraph from a headstone (that’s begging to become a poem!), and more snippets that will grow into future blog posts.

Next Monday will be Book Review Monday! and the book I’m reviewing is funny and reminds me of musings I’ve had with former classmates and ‘friends of a certain age.’ Until then, I hope you’re enjoying the arrival of Autumn, a good book or two, and something cheerier than politics in your newspapers.

See you Monday!