I have always felt that winter was the absolute best time of year for house spying, what without all of the beautiful, interfering foliage, the disturbing undergrowth, the distracting flowers, all forms of plant life that normally wink and
Tag: My Omaha Obsession
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Dear Friends and Fellow Amateur Detectives, As I sit in my office on this dark, drippy day, I am happy to announce the My Omaha Obsession: Searching for the City book is now out and available for purchase. Those of
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You and I are obsessed with the look of a proper estate with tall creepers and twiner-covered wrought iron gates. Even typing this I tremble to think of the extravagance of it all. Just imagining having one’s morning coffee on a patina copper
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I was on my merry way into my newest Byzantine investigation at the W. Dale Clark Library when I happened upon the old club fenced in, like a wayward jailbird or some unruly cattle pen. My heart lifted for a split minute, imagining a resplendent
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Fellow detectives, many gathered here behind this darkened hedge are not members of the My Omaha Obsession’s Facebook page, which is fine with me. I understand. I am fortunate to have met you at all. As an aside, many of my favorite exchanges
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Hello Hello Hello….mic check one, two, three…ch, ch, ch…okay, once again…one, two, three. Here we are… welcome! Ladies and gentlemen, we’re coming to you live from the Peppermint Lounge after many, many months of playing the truant. I want to
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Anything might happen. I made the tour of the Field Club and Hanscom Park area, sticking to the sidewalks this time. A large home with a frontage on Thirty-second Avenue extends all the way to Thirty-third–it stole my breath again as it
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There was a time, not long ago when a small staff, including a cook and “a competent girl,” no doubt the nimble upstairs maid, oversaw the day-to-day function of the large Queen Anne at 3618 Farnam Street. I do like to picture that well-run
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You know very well by now that this detective agency has a staff of one. And this one likes to wander off. I pretend at times that there is a crabby clerk to whom I am tethered. Mr. Cross, the office clerk. His sole purpose would be to answer
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As I trundled along, feeling a bliss-filled rush, I grabbed for the camera in my backpack. I had decided that this was the summer of wearing Detective meets Parent Trap inspired costumes and I was feeling very good about my 1960s camp top. But