Word: condonement
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...reunion of McKenzie-Condon's Chicagoans-the band organized by Guitarist Eddie Condon and Kazooist Red McKenzie in the 1920s. Among those present: Condon, Saxophonist Bud Freeman, Bass Player Bob Haggart, Drummer Gene Krupa, Trumpeter Jimmy McPartland, Clarinetist Pee Wee Russell, Pianist Joe Sullivan, Trombonist Jack Teagarden. Their enthusiasm has withered little with the years. The album is a remarkable recreation of a style 40 years dead-a style that is reborn in Sullivan's honky-tonk piano and Russell's keening clarinet and, most delightfully, in Teagarden's lumpy but moving vocals in Logan Square...
...Francis Drake of Leverett, Mass., stood in shirtsleeves and sunglasses for the opening prayer. The Rev. George Condon of Pelham, Mass., read the Biblical account of how Christ calmed the storm. The Rev. Philip Steinmetz of Ashfield, Mass., braced himself in the boat and gave the sermon...
...lost and found department, urged her pious legions to keep an eye out for the missing 2O-month-old child-there were countless cruel hoaxes and honest if hysterical mistakes by people who claimed to have made contact with the kidnaper. One report came from John F. Condon, a retired New York schoolteacher who, aroused by the crime, had written to the Bronx Home News offering his life's savings in exchange for the child. Condon got an answer in fractured English and bearing the same curious signature-two overlapping blue circles with three crude square holes cutting across...
Meticulously, the author describes how Condon met a wiry, nervous young German immigrant who called himself "John." With Lindbergh's approval, Condon gave him $50,000, mostly in marked gold certificates, receiving in exchange a note about the baby's supposed whereabouts that proved completely phony. Five weeks later, the decomposed body of the child was discovered five miles from the Lindbergh home...
...curse begets an active plot line, part of it borrowed from a Faulkner short story. But Condon's rendering of sagebrush legend is only fitfully funny. Proof that the author himself knows that something is wrong is that on almost every page he stops to wave at friends in the crowd. A street in Paris, for instance, is not too slyly titled "Rue Artbuch Wald...