Robert W. Wells

Wells, a crusty old-school newspaperman, published this book of tales and histories in 1970, writing apparently for his contemporaries and whoever else might be interested. No information is sourced, although there's no reason to doubt much of it, and he can't let a paragraph go without making some sort of cynical wisecrack, often of the type that wouldn't fly nowadays. Whether it's a building project or a lynching, he's going to make some comment of the that's-people-for-you variety. Wells is clearly of the opinion that in Milwaukee barbarous Indians were supplanted by barbarous settlers who killed just few enough of each other to lead to today's barbarous population, and what are you going to do. But beneath the cynicism, he is clearly attached to Milwaukee, which he says "grows on you, like a beer belly." And there are plenty of stories of the kind you want to read aloud, such as that of the twenty-nine-year-old who won the mayor's office in 1906, immediately bought an expensive, bright red horseless carriage, and drove to Manhattan flying a banner reading SHERBURN M. BECKER, BOY MAYOR OF MILWAUKEE. Or the the nineteenth-century "house" of Miss Jack Hunter at 538 River Street, which employed girls named Lucky Joe, Midget the Gamblers' Pride, and Daisy the Waif. Recommended for anybody who appreciates the mixture of rough-and-tumble and Midwestern eccentricity that still makes up Milwaukee today.… (más)