By Haven Kimmel
Whilst Haven Kimmel was once born in 1965, Mooreland, Indiana, was once a sleepy little hamlet of 3 hundred humans. Nicknamed "Zippy" for a way she may bolt round the apartment, this small lady was once possessed of massive eyes or even larger ears. during this witty and lovingly instructed memoir, Kimmel takes readers again to a time whilst small-town the United States was once stuck within the amber of the blameless postwar period--people helped their buddies, went to church on Sunday, and stored barnyard animals of their backyards.
Laced with wonderful storytelling, sharp wit, dead-on observations, and moments of sheer pleasure, Haven Kimmel's straight-shooting portrait of her formative years offers us a heroine who's splendidly candy and sly as she navigates the quirky grownup global that surrounds Zippy.
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Extra info for A Girl Named Zippy: Growing Up Small in Mooreland Indiana (Zippy, Book 1)
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William explains that banks are "parasites on society" and asks Mr. Winfield if he has any money on him so he can prove it. George offers a $5 bill, and William promptly tears it to shreds. "Has anything really been lost? " "William, Father is vice-president of First National Bank—" "Hunk? " "Father, it's nothing serious. It's just what they may teach William in col- ― 43 ― lege—" Which scriptwriter was it, I wonder in 1978, Jack Rose or Melville Shavelson, who had the scruple to insert "may" in that sentence, even though it makes for an awkward line, thereby skirting by the thinnest of hairs a reds-in-the-woodpile note of pre-McCarthy cold war suspicions?
Suddenly the mood is shattered by Wesley's screeching out phrases from the song: "Cliiiinggg—inggg—viiiiine—" Where is he? Under the porch, amid cobwebs and dust. " It's just the kind of thing Jonny likes to do (canceling out cobwebs, dust, bugs, and nausea); ever since he and his brothers moved into the playroom in the new wing of their house, they have been draping blankets and quilts over chairs, ottomans, and tables in the big room to create dark passageways and secret underground mazes. He wishes that their house had a porch.
Doris and Gordon in a boat On Moonlight Bay; Doris dancing by herself around a snowman; her kid brother with other boys dressed as angels, singing Christmas carols; Gordon graduating from the University of Indiana. In point of fact, these slides are projections of the future, not the past, but we don't know that yet. Each image is complete in itself, and each could appear to the family in a different order and still be the same. Through the act of watching them on a screen, behind a list of credits that we too are persuaded to ignore, we are asked to partake of the same experience.