"Dear March -- Come in -- How glad I am"

I more or less stumbled across this Colt Lightning Model 1877 revolver for sale in New Mexico and brought it "home" to Saint Paul, Minnesota. The then-new revolver -- still in remarkably good condition for its age -- was shipped from the Colt factory in Hartford, Connecticut, to the William R. Burkhard Sportsman's Headquarters at 23 East Third Street in Saint Paul on June 28, 1888. From there, the handgun was sold to an unknown person and was "lost to history" until I obtained it. The Sportsman's Headquarters was in business until the 1930s and was located about 10 miles from the current residence of the revolver .... sort of like it has come home after 132 years and who might know how many adventures. The original posts about the Lightning appeared in June 2015 -- for the curious among you. The book below has a similar tale, for those who wish to read on ....

 

Where have you been, what have you seen

"If only 'it' could talk" is an expression we occasionally use and hear.

Most often, I think, the "it" refers to walls.

More often -- for me, anyway -- it refers to a coin or to a book or to a firearm.

Will Durant, formally known as William James Durant, was a historian / a writer / a philosopher who, in collaboration with his wife, Ariel, published an eleven-volume masterpiece, "The Story of Civilization," and a number of other books. I thought I very probably had read all the Durants had in print until I encountered and purchased the book, "Transition," which he had published in 1927. It is subtitled, "A Sentimental Story of One Mind and One Era."

No, this is not a post about the Durants or about "Transition," a thinly-disguised autobiography posing as a novel. It is about a book in the context of "if only it could talk."

A name, "J.C. Arnout, M.D.," is stamped on the inside of the cover. My assumption is that Doctor Arnout was the first owner. I am fascinated by the Durants and, guilt by association, also am somewhat interested in anyone interested in them. The address, "2626 S. Robertson Blvd. Los Angeles, California," is stamped below the name.

It is obvious the odds of anyone practicing medicine in Los Angeles in the 1920s would still be walking the Earth are beyond remote, but I did a cursory internet search on the last name thinking about possible descendants and other relatives. I came up empty on the name, so I typed in the address and came up with a building and this information about it.

"Nearby schools include Shenandoah Street Elementary School, Cheviot Hills Continuation School and Alexander Hamilton Senior High School. The closest grocery stores are Joe's Market, Venice Market and Vena Market. Nearby coffee shops include Undergrind Cafe, Helms Bakery Cafe Truck and Hayden. Nearby restaurants include Campos Tacos, Taco Bell and The Empanada Factory. 2626 S Robertson Blvd is near Reynier Park, Carthay Circle Park and Northrop Grumman Headquarters."

The parcel is assessed at approximately three-quarters of a million and is not currently on the market.

So much for that -- except, 2626 S. Robertson Blvd. is only about ten miles from Los Angeles International Airport, which I do pass through on occasion. Be fun -- for me, anyway -- to see the place once occupied by a medical doctor who read Will Durant. And, I cannot help but be curious about the taste of the coffee at the Undergrind Café and if, perchance, banana cream pie is on its menu ....

I purchased the book from an elderly woman in Grass Valley, California, nearly 450 miles north of Los Angeles. It would be interesting -- to me, anyway -- to know the story of the book's journey between L.A. in 1927 and Grass Valley in 2021.

But, since a book cannot talk in a literal sense, there is no compelling reason for me to try to trace and to track its journey. Right now, I simply plan to read and to learn from the words put to paper nearly a century ago by William James Durant.