by Bill Spurgeon
The world of mystery and true crime writing was diminished May 18 with the death in the University of Chicago Hospitals of Hugh Holton, 54. He had been admitted a week earlier, suffering from colon cancer.
A supporter of Magna cum Murder since its birth in 1995, Holton was a captain in the Chicago Police Department. He had written eight mystery thrillers set mainly in Chicago, based on his experiences as a police investigator and supervisor but not, he said, on any particular case.
Following graduation from Chicago’s Mount Carmel High School, Hugh Holton followed his heart when he became a policeman. He attended the Chicago Police Academy, and served a stint as a volunteer non-commissioned Army officer in Viet Nam.
He followed in the footsteps of his father, a career police officer who had joined the force when young Hugh was nine years old.
An avid reader, he followed his heart a second time when he took up writing more than a decade ago, starting with science fiction and then switching to mysteries and fictional crime. In an obituary May 21 in The Chicago Tribune, the elder Holton said his son was a disciplined writer, working at it every day.
He was a popular speaker at Magna cum Murder, and his joy of being with people of similar interests was evident when he served on panels, made solo presentations, signed books, or visited in the Radisson Hotel lobby and Flappers Lounge. He could "work a crowd" with the dexterity of a Harry Truman and the lithe footwork of a Fred Astaire.
Hugh Holton believed police work was a calling, and he took it seriously, serving as commander of two Chicago police districts during his career and earning the honor of being the highest-ranking police officer actively writing mysteries.
He was a member of Mystery Writers of America, serving as its Midwest Chapter president in 1995-1996, and he credited its writers’ workshop, Of Dark and Stormy Nights, with helping focus his writing several years earlier.
A program he did for the regular chapter meeting in February – about the famed Chicago St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, on its 72nd anniversary – drew one of the largest crowds ever to an MWA Midwest meeting.
His post-high-school education included bachelor’s and master’s degrees from Roosevelt University, and post-graduate work at Northwestern University.
Holton’s editor at Forge, Robert Gleason, told The Tribune that Holton’s books had sold more than a million copies. His eighth is The Devil’s Shadow, published only recently. Another volume is in the hands of his publisher.
His earlier titles included Presumed Dead, Windy City, Chicago Blues, Violent Crimes, Red Lightning, The Left Hand of God and Time of the Assassins.
The acknowledgements and forewords of his books were known for their unstinted praise of individuals who had assisted or inspired him.
He, in turn, established himself as both an institution and an inspiration, the former for his many readers, and the latter for those who yearn to write and write well.
Surviving him are his parents, daughter, two sisters, and thousands of fans and friends.
(Muncie writer Wiley (Bill) Spurgeon is longtime secretary of Midwest Chapter of MWA and serves Magna cum Murder as an advisory board member.)
by Ann Morse and members of the Arsenic & Oolong Society
The inscription on the headstone read, "It was a dark and stormy night. . .", the ultimate opening line. The mourners huddled at the graveside, however, were not there for an opening, but for a closing. They were paying last respects to a great lady, Martha Detamore, a.k.a. the Dowager Duchess of Ruecliffe.
In a scene reminiscent of an Edward Gorey drawing, the sky darkened, followed by a tumultuous downpour. Among those in attendance were several members of the Arsenic and Oolong society, a mystery group that Martha co-founded with Brian Foust in 1989. The two shared not only a love of mysteries, but also the same birthday. The mystery club celebrated it’s twelfth anniversary on January 23rd of this year.
I first met Martha in the initial meeting, held at the Fountain of Mystery Bookshop in Indianapolis. I am proud to be a charter member.
Martha had a keen sense of humor. When asked what the club did, she would always reply, "We do fun and food; we don’t do serious." Among the many "fun" events that she and Brian arranged were the Agatha Christie Centennial, when we played croquet on the lawn and mystery games in the house, the Dorothy Sayers Centennial High Tea, the Lizzie Borden Family Picnic, were we served cold cuts, and the Dillinger Day Trip, during which we donned boater hats, placed red carnations on the "presumed" grave, and visited his museum in Nashville, Indiana.
As mystery lovers know, there are ample opportunities to dress up as your favorite character. Martha liked to dress as the Duchess of Ruecliffe. At many a convention, she would make a grand entrance dressed in purple velvet and accompanied by an entourage which included people dressed as a butler, a maid, a gardener, and more.
Martha’s enthusiasm for murder and mayhem went beyond the books to the authors themselves. She corresponded with many, welcoming them as old friends at the conventions she attended, particularly through the Fan Club at Magna cum Murder and Malice Domestic.
Many of the authors became members of Arsenic and Oolong. The group which began with eight members now has over three-hundred members, including some overseas participants.
Each year at Magna cum Murder, Martha and Brian would come up with great ideas to tax our "little grey cells." Memorable among these were the Grand Duchy of Arsenica and the Alfred Hitchcock Hundredth Birthday Celebration.
Martha shared my interest in books on tape. She was also an animal lover. At one time, she raised poodles.
She had a great love of trains, an interest she shared with her friend of many years, Francis Rottet. They would spend their holidays visiting and riding on scenic railways; at other times, they enjoyed just watching trains. Martha is buried next to Francis; a train is etched on his headstone.
In the last year, Martha was the producer to "Indiana Today" on WICR Radio, a program hosted by Paul Irwin. On a couple of occasions, she stepped at the last moment to host the show and did a credible job.
All who knew Martha will have their own special memories of her. She will be sorely missed at our mystery meetings.
On her headstone are etchings of books, a lamp and reading glasses. On the spine of the books are the following words: "She loved a mystery." It is the truth.
Farewell our friend.
by Larry Shores, Opinion Editor, The Muncie Star Press
Eulogies are not easy to write or deliver. The task can be compounded when the speaker is a member of the deceased’s family. Deep feelings can get in the way.
Thus those who attended the funeral of Bill Spurgeon on Monday were astounded by the ease and eloquence that marked Whitney Spurgeon’s recollections of his father.
We should not have been surprised. After all, Rev. Ron Naylor said after Whitney had sat down, "He’s a Spurgeon."
Whitney’s dad was a good writer, a profound thinker, an excellent (if intense) teacher and maybe the keenest-ever observer of the Muncie community. He lived here most of his life and seemed to love every minute of it.
But he also loved East Central Indiana. He insisted that the newspapers he served as executive editor were diligent in reporting on communities as far as 30 or 40 miles away.
"We’re their hometown paper too," he often said of out-of-county subscribers. In helping serve them better, he created a complex but workable multi-edition system that allowed more news from other communities to be published.
His son’s eulogy recalled Bill’s extraordinary level of community involvement. "Its hard to think of an organization or cause in this town that he wasn’t at least peripherally involved in, that he hadn’t helped by contributing either his time, money or simply his encyclopedic knowledge."
The eulogy described Bill’s egalitarianism, his belief that all people had something of value to contribute. "He had friends from all walks of life, from lawyers to manual laborers, and he valued them all equally." And the eulogy recalled Bill Spurgeon’s intellect. "His uncanny memory was legendary. This, of course, was of great service to him in his main love, history. It was not unusual to ask my father about any given home on any given street corner in Muncie and hear a story that went something like this . . ."
Whitney then launched into a lively narrative of how Bill might have described a particular house and the lineage of its ownership. It was "pure Spurgeon" and brought chuckles from the audience.
Then Whitney came to the distinguishing moment of his eulogy.
"My father’s most defining characteristic was, I believe, not his intellect, not his memory, his compassion or his democratic way of looking at the world. It was his undying, always hungry curiosity.
"This curiosity, even more than his incredible memory, is what I believe made Dad the great historian that he was. Because one can have a photographic memory, but if they don’t have the curiosity to fill that memory with meaningful information, it’s just a circus sideshow talent. And it’s not the talents you have, but how you use them that counts."
A healthy curiosity earns its own rewards, Whitney said. It prompts one to always search for deeper and more meaningful answers than are apparent.
"To not just wonder about an interesting building, or person, or tree, but to stop, and ask questions, and find out the deeper meanings of things. To find, in short, their histories."
Because Bill Spurgeon was such an incredible historian, and because the local histories he wrote were so important to his hometown, he should become a permanent part of that history. His name should be enshrined in some collection, some archives, some public display of intellectual note.
We should do for him what he did for his community – tell its stories and create a permanence that will never allow it to be forgotten or taken for granted.
(Reprinted with permission @ 2001, The Star Press, Muncie, IN)