Margerumalia – You Have The Lindbergh Baby!

Newsletter – March 21, 2025

Do you know the famous story of the Lindbergh Baby who was kidnapped out of his crib in 1932, with a ransom note left where the child had been sleeping? It was called “The Crime of The Century” and, in an era before social media or even television, everyone and their neighbor was on the lookout for the Lindbergh Baby.

The whole world was horrified by the thought that this cute curly-haired innocent had been grabbed by someone nefarious, someone who would bring harm to the little son of an American Hero. Ever since Lindbergh flew his single-engine, single-seat plane, The Spirit of St. Louis, across the Atlantic from New York to Paris, he had earned his way into the hearts of the American Public and the world.

Here is a picture of my mother, Sonya, who was born in 1930 when Charles Lindbergh, jr. was born. 

You see the resemblance, don’t you?

My Mom’s father was a lawyer working for the government in Washington, D.C. and the family was living nearby in Maryland. 

People literally stopped my young grandmother in the store or on the street to gasp, “You have the Lindbergh Baby!” The two babies were the same age, after all, and they both had a generous mop of white curly hair. Everyone was on the lookout for the child, picturing themselves as the hero who would would bring him home.

She wasn’t the Lindbergh Baby, of course, and people were disabused of that idea when they learned that she was a little girl. She sure matched the description, though. 

Unfortunately the story had a tragic ending when a truck driver found the little boy’s body by the side of the road. An immigrant was accused of the crime and was found guilty in “The Trial of the Century.” He insisted that he was innocent of the crime but all appeals failed and he was executed in 1936. 

Agatha Christie was moved to write a murder mystery inspired by the kidnapping of the Lindbergh Baby, without actually naming the famous aviator. It was called Murder on the Orient Express and I won’t give any spoilers but the story provides some poetic justice to the story of the kidnapping. 

In that story, the kidnapped baby is a girl, and her mother is named Sonia. 

It’s one of Christie’s most famous novels, and her readers knew all about that kidnapping. Now you do, too, so you can read or re-read the book with new appreciation. 

TTFN 

* * * * *

I found the WANTED poster and additional facts about the Kidnapping of the Lindbergh Baby on Wikipedia at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lindbergh_kidnapping. The article also discusses the many theories about the guilt or innocence of the accused kidnapper.

* * * * *

If you received this email because it was forwarded to you by a subscriber, welcome. You can subscribe as well by following the link on my website: ericmargerum.com. A free story awaits you there.

Margerumalia – A Kitten Called Marcie

Newsletter October 4, 2024

I think I may need to create a children’s picture book.

We’ve been feeding an outdoor cat on our back deck for about a year-and-a-half. Her brother, too, until he disappeared in early spring. Tabitha has been showing up faithfully every morning—as has Rockie Raccoon—to get her bowl of cat food. We’ve seen her grow wide with pregnancy twice. The first litter never made it to our house but this summer she brought over four adorable kittens: two orange and two calicos. 

We immediately ran out to buy kitten food! 

Over the next few weeks we discussed how to capture and rescue them. Our neighbor saw the kittens follow Tabitha across the street on her security camera and declared that she wanted one! 

Meanwhile, Rockie had also given birth and started bringing her three babies to our house for some of that delicious cat food. 

When we went out of town, the woman coming to feed and give insulin to our indoor cat reported that there was a bit of a kerfuffle between the cats and the raccoons after which the cats stopped showing up. Several days after we came home, Tabitha returned but with only three of her four kittens.

We were sad about the lost calico. Our back yard falls away to a heavily wooded ravine and we’ve seen foxes and coyotes slink through our back yard. The kitten was very likely prey to one of these carnivores. We also felt guilty about not having rescued them before we left. 

Several days later the two orange kittens disappeared. Now we were only feeding Tabby and the last calico. If only we had captured them before they became coyote food. I started standing guard for the early morning feedings to keep the raccoons, at least, well away from the cats. 

A few days ago, the remaining calico was all alone on our deck, clearly waiting for her mother, mewing for her, looking for her. She had fallen asleep in an empty flower box when her mother showed up, so Debbie went outside to wake the kitten, suddenly realizing she was within arm’s length. She could grab her! 

“Eric” I heard her cry, “get the cat carrier!”

I ran upstairs, grabbed the cat carrier, and rushed to the back door. Debbie stood there with bloody arms holding the kitten by the scruff of the neck. We quickly shoved her in the carrier, locked the cage and Debbie went inside to wash up and apply antiseptic to her scratches. (She would later get a tetanus shot and antibiotics just to be on the safe side.) 

Debbie was a hero! 

I shared a look with Tabitha on the stepping stones in the yard and she looked at me. I got the distinct feeling she was saying, “Okay, you’ve got her. I understand. You take care of her.” She had been pushing, even swatting, the kitten away from the cat bowl so she was already pushing her out of the nest, so to speak. 

I had named the two calicos “Marco” because they each had an orange mark on their foreheads: mark-o. Did you know that only one in 3000 calicos are male? I didn’t. Our daughter’s fiancé suggested changing her name to Marcie.

Marcie warmed up to us immediately, purring like crazy every time we visited her little quarantine downstairs. Then we gave her a bath in the sink using gloves and Dawn dish soap. After that bit of trauma we subjected Marcie to a flea bath and though she struggled she never tried to bite, and has always purred ferociously every time we’re with her. She loves being petted! So affectionate. 

Soon we took Marcie to the vet for her kitten shots, blood draw, mani-clawi*, and worming medicine. She was officially pronounced healthy and adorable. We took her home, gave her the run of the TV room, and later, the basement. She loves her toys and running freely.

As for the picture book, we now have dozens of cute kitten pictures, and I thought it could serve as a metaphor for children who are fostered and then adopted, to give them comfort by seeing a version of their own stories. (Marcie thinks so, too, she just trotted into my office in full purr mode, batted a paw against my ankle, and leaped into my lap.) 

The story’s not over yet. We still need to hand her over to the neighbor when she gets back in town. 

AND, there’s a huge plot twist!

Debbie held Marcie up in the tall windows of the TV room the other day so Tabitha could she see her baby and know she was taken care of. Tabby stared for a long time. Marcie did, too. So guess what happened the next night. 

We were watching TV and I heard the rattle of the ceramic bowl outside. The raccoons. It was getting time to take in the cat food. I stood up, looked outside, and saw… 

Tabitha and her THREE kittens! 

I’m guessing you’re asking all the questions we were and, of course, we don’t know the answers! It had been over a week since we saw those kittens last. Where had they been while Tabby was showing up every day? Did Tabitha bring them back for us to rescue? 

Next on our list is the other calico. She’s clearly getting pushed aside by the others.

Maybe I’ll have an update for you after a week or two.

TTFN!

* * * * *

*You’re right, I made up another word! I’ll define that as an animal’s mani-pedi. 

* * * * *

The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles is available through The BookBaby Bookshop at https://store.bookbaby.com/book/the-most-amazing-museum-of-los-angeles