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True Tales of a Buckeye Legal Eagle

Richard G. Clark

December 2021 978-1-7365738-5-3


The Twenty-One titles below weave its own innocuous story:

It was “The Week of Bastille Day” where “Lefty” took a “Taxi.” “We Took a Trip to the Lodge” to have “Lunch.”  “A Small-Town Lawyer,” “Jimmy Willard,” was a “Poor Little Lamb Who Lost His Way” as “Richard Conway” stated, “Here Comes the Judge.” It’s always “Politics” when “Susie the Secretary” visits the “London Country Club.”  “Raymond Stinson” said “The Case of the Trespassing Privy” was all because “The Hamburger King” and “Runyon Didn’t Know All of Them.”  Yet, “Milt (Farber) Pays His Taxes,” “Buys a New Car,” “Bakes a Cake” all the while skirts “The Practice of Law”

catapulting one to past days of “The Grove” aka Grove City, Ohio and the surrounding metropolitan area.

The London Country Club, Green Gables, Burger Boy Foodarama, Deshler Hotel, Beulah Park, all nostalgic Ohioans favorite haunts, return in these classic non-fiction short stories.  Be drawn into a time when the days seemed less hectic, people had a sense of humor and perhaps, a bit more simplicity.  


From "Runyon Didn't Know All of Them"

Damon Runyon was a celebrated, syndicated, sports columnist, and short story writer during the late nineteen twenties, thirties and forties.  Many of his short stories appeared in COLLIER’S magazine during its great era, and several of his books were published, and some of his stories were made into movies and musicals.  They were wonderfully entertaining.  He wrote about the people he knew around New York.  They talked in unusual language and did unusual things.  They were gamblers, bootleggers, gangsters, show girls, pimps, prostitutes and just plain hangers around types.

Those characters were not peculiar to New York nor to Runyon.  They could be found around any race track in the country.  They did the same things and talked the same language.  They were not imitating Runyon’s characters. They never heard of Runyon, and the only thing they ever read was the THE DAILY RACING FORM.

In the year 1935 my father purchased a drug store in Grove City, Ohio.  Now Grove City did not have a lot to offer in the way of business activity, and its leading industry was Beulah Park Race Track. This was not exactly comparable to any of the well-known tracks around the country. It was a “leaky roof” track if there ever was one. The horses were thoroughbreds, but most of them couldn’t out run a fat man. The purses were so cheap that even if an owner was lucky enough to win a race, he still starved to death. The jockeys were mostly lousy, the owners and trainers “gypsies” in the sense that they had no home, and the grooms were usually bums, ex-convicts, or guys on the run and in hiding under any name that came to mind........