Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #33

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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #33

… Women cannot be presidents, my dear, too temperamental. ” proclaims old Jefferson. “Chairwomen, I would say, but not president…

Capitol Building Tallahassee Florida

The long awaited and much anticipated Summer Cotillion, as presented by the Tallahassee Junior Women’s Club (Mrs. John Ferrell president and committee chairman) has finally arrived. Members and guests are filing into the Grand Ballroom of the State Capitol Building, hungry for a holiday, seeing that Independence Day is more of a Northern thing. Independence has escaped many of those south of the Mason-Dixon Line, a way of preserving a lifestyle that flies in the face of those who comprise the majority in the Union.

If you find yourself not attending this function, you are bedridden, diseased, or socially invisible. Politicians are there to press the flesh. City fathers snuggle up to the politicians. Women are there to be seen. Men are there to see as much as they can. Debutantes aspire to social heights, while their male counterparts are like kids in a candy shop.

All in all, it is a great excuse to dress up and rub elbows with folks infrequently seen in this primarily horse and buggy paced world.

Those attracting the most attention, in this buffet of mostly beautiful people, are the Midway and Quincy contingents.

It may seem unlikely, but shy James Ferrell will be the icebreaker between the two diverse communities. He is also the moth to Abigail Smythwick’s flame. As soon as she and her father make their entrance, young James lights on the budding belle, even though he had never met her father, a churlish figure whose gray long-tailed jacket reeks of Confederate indolence, sans medals and rank markings.

“Father, I would like to introduce, James Ferrell. His mother is the president of the Tallahassee Women’s Club. They are putting on this grand event.” She boasts of a potential beau’s credence.

“Women cannot be presidents, my dear, too temperamental,” proclaims old Jefferson. “Chairwomen, I would say, but not president.”

James fails to object, rather extending his hand, “It is an honor to meet you, sir.”

The clenching of hands nearly buckles the younger’s knees.

“My daughter speaks so highly of you, being of good stock, with healthy Scottish roots. Anglo-Saxon people are the backbone of the globe.”

“I did not tell you he was Scottish, Daddy.” She is ignored.

“She tells me you are interested in law.”

“Yessir.” James is still massaging feeling into his right hand fingers. “Constitutional law is my true passion.”

“Laws are intended to protect the weak. The United States Constitution does the same. Perhaps you will be able to correct these unfair advantages in the course of your endeavors.”

Alpha Omega M.D.

Episode #33

page 31

Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 173

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Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 173

…And what on Earth is R. Worth Moore doing, leapfrogging the Mason-Dixon Line by hundreds of miles…


While Constance goes out to Midway to tend to her interests, R. Worth Moore is busy doing all the legal grunt work R Worth Moore-001required to clean up after Fanny’s hospital mystery accident. When you are an out-of-state driver, things can get complicated; when you are an out-of-state lawyer, well you better show intent to get licensed to practice in Illinois. He gladly takes the time to do so, seeing that these city folk actually have the means to pay usual and ordinary officially authorized fees (chickens – pies). So, unlike Dr. A.O. Campbell, he can charge good cash money for his services.

There seems to be a trend developing here about. Neither Constance nor Fanny is in a hurry to scurry out of town. Just what was keeping their headquarters down in toddling Tallahassee? Is it the comfort of the hometown atmosphere, where everybody knows your name? And what stands in the way of CCPI from relocating to this happening Chi-town? Their advertising budget would go from $0 to $omething more and trading physical space may be a hassle, the buying and selling of real estate.

But as they reach their prime investigative years, how can they ignore the allure of the big city?

And what on Earth is R. Worth Moore doing, licensing himself in a state that is the polar opposite of Florida, leapfrogging the Mason-Dixon Line by hundreds of miles? Can it be that he has always had designs on moving out and up, or has Fanny Renwick laid down a scent that he cannot resist?

But with big city excitement, you also get big city crime, as he would discover while deciding to take an early spring stroll from his South Loop hotel down to 6137 Kimbark. He had not realized that Chicago neighborhoods can change for the worse from one north/south block to the next…….

Constance Caraway P.I.

Forever Mastadon

page 148

Boston Legal

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Boston Legal



     Boston, Massachusetts is directly due east of Rochester, New York. The intervening 300 miles is richly historic land that was originally deeded to the Algonquin Indians, only to be replaced by the Iroquois, followed by the Dutch, English and finally independence.

Painting with a body of water with sailing ships in the foreground and a city in the background

Early Boston

Independence is the basis for James Ferrell, as he pursues his legal
education, freeing him from the underlying despair of his southern
roots. There are fine institutions of higher learning in his home state,
but he could not pass up the opportunity to lose much of his regional
accent and begin his career north of the Mason-Dixon Line.


 For Harv Pearson to request his involvement in the formation of his  new magazine is a lucky break on an epic scale. Attorneysare quickly becoming as numerous as the stars above. Rochester orTallahassee, hither and yon, you can find one; practicing the art of writing the law, knowing existing law, finding a way around the
law. Any and every number of them is as qualified as this upstart
from Florida, but this first client comes from a place where people
take care of their own, not completely without logic or potential of
competence, yet bending over backwards to nurture and grow those
families you know. Sow a seed, water it and watch it increase in your
fertilized soil.

     James and Abigail Ferrell are promising seedlings without
pretense, fully aware of how fortunate they are. And do not assume
that Abbey does not contribute to the overall plant. She has and
continues to work hard to support her husband in his loftier pursuits,
both monetary and motivational. She seems to stay abreast of
everything that James has in the hopper, like she is a fly on every wall
of every room that he occupies. If he, in her opinion, has a deviant
thought in matters of the law, she corrects him lovingly with faultless
knowledge. James has since stopped wondering on how she knows
things, she just knows.

“Has Beacon Hill copyrighted the name, Pearson-Eastman
Journal?” asks Abbey in typically pointed fashion.

“Well, no, we have been swamped with the addition of Herbert
Love to the limited partnership. It’s not like merely adding a name to
a document you know,” he dares to clarify.
____160 Gwendolyn Hoff
“If they do not have patent rights to their name, the first issue is
fair game for plagiarism, or even worse, another magazine stealing
their format ideas.”

“Yes,” he concedes, “I see your point. Sometimes even the senior
partners lose track of details, seeing that we have over a one hundred
clients that I am aware of. Not the least of them is J.P. Morgan’s
scheme to freeze John D. Rockefeller out of the steel business.”

“I guess that makes George Eastman chopped liver?”

“No, but he is a silent partner. Judith is the Eastman in the lead.”

“Perhaps when we gain the right to vote, we’ll get some respect,”
Abbeys states emphatically.

“Well, I respect you, honey bunch.” Oops.

     “You can take your honey bunch and put it in the cellar with the
old potatoes. When men have the nerve to respect women outside
the walls of the home, then and only then will God be glorified and
true equality exist.”

“I must leave Hon . . . uh, Abbey. The office is expecting me.”

“Coward. I hope Susan B. Anthony is waiting in the lobby—that
would fix your wagon!”

“I heard she is in a sanatorium, old and crazy I suspect.”

He should have kept going.

You best stop at the diner on your way home.


And you will find your bed things on the sofa. It will give you time to ponder women’s suffrage.

This time he moves through the door without clever commentary,
one phrase late in ceasing.