"Discoveries"
Curtain Call
"From the once legendary Connor Hotel ballroom, I'm Rene Williams for Proceedings News," there was a temporary halt then, "Got it, Doug?"
"Yes ma'am. We've been on the rooftop porch, in the prevent, the ballroom..."
"Well, there's always the sub-basement. What's down there?"
Cameraman Doug Stockton smiled. "Lots of memoirs. Racy stuff."
The reporter frowned and threw her empty fill with tears bottle at him. "C'mon. Anything genuine?"
"There's a trustworthy?
"Yeah, something resembling that."
"Uh, let's see, for a couple of years during Ban the sub-basement was the classiest speakeasy in the four states.
"After Prevention, sometime in the 40's town councilman J. Edgerton Bentley was fixed 'in flagrante delicto' with Ms. Marilil Butler, a debutante affianced to one of the scions of the one the most prominent institute families in city."
"And just what does 'into flagrante delicto' intend in this illustration?" The reporter asked jadedly and somewhat sardonically, cocking her cranium toward her cameraman.
She was burning and tired and desperately wanted to leave the building but she also sought more of a feature.
"Well, the report goes that the admirable J. Edgerton Bentley was seated on a bench in the leap while the lovely, fresh and completely naked Marilil Butler knelt naked before him, philanthropic him a hummer..."
The reporter looked disgusted, incomprehensible something under her breath and waved dismissively to her cameraman while incisive impatiently for something in her "gig" bag."
Doug laughed, "Wait! Wait, it gets improve.
"J. Marilil was held to be truly beautiful and a coquettish 20. The hummer was about to, uh, occur, no pun projected, to fruition when Jasper County Sheriff Waldo Monahan and Mrs. J. Edgerton Bentley burst in upon the pair.
"J. J. Edgerton Bentley asinine and none to discretely from here to Carthage, pulled a Horse pistol from his vest short and shot the Sheriff dead.
"Whereupon Mrs. J. Edgerton Bentley plunged a cook's knife into J. Edgerton's chest trade him a important blow. Edgerton, his furnish on the fatal dagger, looked up into his wife's eyes and thought plaintively, "You damn fool female, you done used up and kilt me. Why'd you have and go and do that for Marlene?"
Despite herself, the reporter laughed.
Seeing his reporter responding so well to the article, Doug continued, "Mrs. Bentley's snap, if any, is not recognized, but she then pulled out up her husband's weapon and shot Marilil."
"Oh my deity? Did she execute her too?" The reporter was extensive eyed.
"No. No, Marilil lived. Bentley's court case, when asked why she shot Marilil, Mrs. Bentley believed, "The stupid trivial twit wouldn't bring to a halt screaming. Besides, I only winged her. The brutes from the hotel came in and wrestled me off before I could exterminate her."
The reporter felt her countenance flush and she tried to suppress a laugh but couldn't, "That's terrible! You resembling this stuff! Admit it!"
"I will not! I still don't see how we can use this, even if any of this is true." Barely suppressing a giggle the reporter tried to peek serious, tried to get back on top.
"What else have you got?" Rene Williams burst into a full laugh.
"Marilil was sent back East to endure her indiscretions in defame. The bullet did solely wing her. But her party rehabilitation was less than successful and the legend has it she became a notorious madam in Boston.
"And, let's see, there's the poker sport of '58 between the U.S. Senators of Missouri, Kansas, Arkansas and Oklahoma..."
The reporter grabbed her gig bag, smiled tiredly and motioned to the cameraman, "Prime the way. We'll do one more park up in," she blew out make public in mock enragement, "the sub-basement."
~~~~~~~~~~
The Connor Inn, built in 1908, was less than 24 hours gone from its demise; it was available to be imploded before it chop down down. It had been the rock of Joplin, Missouri's people life from 1908 until the last part of the 40's. After the 40's she became a dowager down on her luck. She closed in 1969 and no one could save her.
Inside, the knocking down crew was scrutiny charges and the fusing and background the detonators.
Outside at the barricades, adult people stood silent and misty eyed, remembering the hotel in its glory days and consequently reminiscing about their lives.
Younger group, who had no sensation of history, powdered about expectantly before you for the "sizeable bang." Avenue vendors hawked cotton candy, hot dogs and glass of something. And the other two TV stations of the area had reporters burden live stand ups for the 6 and 10 newscasts.
The third rank in town, digit one in the promote, had enough consequence to get authorization to do news from inside the lodge. The only circumstances were that the reporter and cameraman could not do subsist reports or habit a radio or small room phone inside the house for fear of venue off the broadcasting controlled detonators that were being appoint in the concluding 24 hours.
The news flash director called on his new senior reporter, a woman from a set of connections affiliate in Kansas Conurbation, to do the "largest story in his time.
Worse than being unattractive, the marketing consultants understood she was "patent."
Rene Williams was a serious journalist. And while she knew that mature and looks for a lady in local TV newscast were important she always theory the quality of her work would compensate. One calendar day, she thought, she might find herself responsibility network news.
She never unwritten the fact that work quality, at least in the market she was in, would not completely compensate for her get older and plain looks. That is, until she found her enter into being sold to the quantity one station in Joplin, Missouri because the marketing consultant understood her ratings were "trending lesser" than the younger female the media that were not only discernment catching to the viewer but price considerably less in salary and reimbursement.
Southwest Missouri: the well-known "sticks."
But Rene tried to put the preeminent face on her position as she could. Maybe after one of the Yuppie set off that trained at being anchors in these less important markets moved on to a larger market as a reporter she'd spend her final on-air days behind the presenter desk.
Maybe.
~~~~~~~~~~
They stirred single file through a narrow corridor, lit only by one bare light bulb hanging from spur-of-the-moment wiring.
The walls were brick from 1908 and they were slippery with condensation. They were two levels below the road, the basement and 9 stories of structure above them.
The corridor opened out into a generous room with an arched brick ceiling; the air was dank. In one part was the fascinate to the tomb, black and ominous. "This was the speakeasy; I've seen films of it during Bar, it was sincerely quite classy. Maybe you could get some archival shots from the Institution Of Higher Education. Come on."
He took her hand. She was bowled over at the familiarity her cameraman was presentation her. She didn't realize him - or anyone at the post - particularly well. But she was fascinated and there was something about the scope that echoed the history he had told her about reminiscent of familiar spirits.
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