DEDICATION
In September 1996, I spent a week's vacation touring from Oklahoma City through Kansas to Kansas City, then across Missouri to St. Louis, and then south from St. Louis to New Madrid, Mo., my hometown and still the home of my parents. Along with visiting my brothers in both major cities, I stopped at as many antique malls and bookstores as possible. It was at one such store near Boonville, MO, that I found a box of Happy Hollister books, half with dust jackets. They were in great shape and per book my cost was less than about $2 a book. I bought them, knowing that I could sell the dustjacketed ones for quite a bit more and recoup my investment. And perhaps, sentimentally, I hated to see them just sit on the floor of this concrete-floored antique mall.
I placed the box in my trunk, not even adding them to among the prizes I had found already or would find later.
Upon arriving in New Madrid a few days later, I put aside collecting to spend time with my parents. At some point my mother Zoe' asked me to accompany her to the local library to visit with her "girlfriends," the two local librarians. She was always proud of me and wanted to share that pride with these two fine ladies. Like any man, I hesitated, not wanting to be a part of such "silly" ventures. But I went along, knowing this would make her happy.
At the library I reminisced about the joy I had as a kid there, especially checking out the Happy Hollister books they kept. These books and my fondness in reading them started this hobby. I was surprised to learn the library still had volumes from the series, but they were in bad shape. The head librarian mentioned that recently a childhood friend of mine, who also read and enjoyed the series, had offered to cover the cost of purchasing new copies. I then offered the non-dustjacketed Hollister books I had bought to her and said if she collected the money, give it to my mother. They were pleased to have the new books. I enjoyed the rest of my visit with my parents and returned to Oklahoma City a few days later.
Within a few weeks my dear mother passed away in her sleep.
At her wake I asked the librarian to keep the money for the books and place a dedication in the books to my mother. They will serve as a reminder of her, and this dedication will, too. I owe my love of mystery books to her and she always encouraged me to read. Ironically, my mother had the mindset that would not have understood the internet, much less used it. Yet, now she has her "place" on the World Wide Web.