I don't want to make a habit of this, but this week, I hand over the first part of this space to Inge B. Bartelsen, age 9, who sent in a letter requesting we publish her (at least, I think Inge is female ... all the Inges I've known [one] have been) article. Here goes, minus some of the charm of the typewritten original:
In the 1930's when the Great Depression was in full motion people all over the United States would call people that did not have any money hobos and considered them thieves. Most didn't have the money to pay for clothes or food. They would live in hobo camps where they would sometimes eat vegetables and very rarely meat. And they could stay and have access to the rails.
Thanks, Inge. I'm not sure if your parents let you read the Weekly, or even if they should, but I hope you see that we ran your article.
On an entirely different note, if you're one of the people who was confused/irritated by our Inkwell crossword the last two weeks, my apologies. Somehow, we managed to cut off some of the clues and puzzle two weeks in a row (this is what happens when I go on vacation, I guess, although it's just different stupid stuff that happens when I'm here), but this week's appears fully intact. As the crossword fan here, I'll try to make sure that never happens again. While the error was embarassing, it was nice to find out that people are actually doing that crossword, considering how much entertainment I get from trying to complete it each issue.
An endorsement if you're reading this early in the week: All weekend, HUB and Playground are hosting fundraisers for the family of Shanti Carlisi, a young woman who died while traveling in Croatia. Carlisi was very close to owner HUB/Playground owners Jenny Rice and Kade Mislinski's family, so Friday and Saturday night (July 26 and 27), the cover proceeds from Playground go towards bringing her home, as well as the net proceeds from dinner at HUB on Sunday night (July 28). With all the discussion of whether the changes happening downtown should be seen with enthusiasm or skepticism (page 14), moments like these remind me what I love about the people of Tucson.