Tourist Trap

The main drag in Oglesburg Tennessee – White Oak Parkway –snakes through the heart of the Great Smoky Mountains. The businesses that line it, framed by countless trees jutting from the summit, are typical of many tourist towns.

There’s a confectionery shop, Sugar South, that allows customers to lean in and see how the candy is made. After munching on free samples of chocolate and caramel delights, those with a sweet tooth are convinced to buy more by the sack full.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Bluesky @scottadamson1960.bsky.social

The Old Tyme Baking House cookie kitchen opens at 5 a.m. each day, and the smell of gingerbread spices the early morning air.

A clothing store, Tennessee Stylin’, offers everything from sweatshirts adorned with the smiling face of a friendly black bear to Come Ogle At Oglesburg and Oglesburg: A Place For Carryin’ On Then Marryin’ Long novelty tees.

And of course, moving past the drop-in restaurants and mini-museums means being accosted by the frenetic young man promising three nights and two days of luxurious lodging if you’ll be so kind as to listen to his 90-minute infomercial for the condos located just on the outskirts of town.

There is plenty to do and see in Oglesburg, and the constant parade of families means entrepreneurs are eager to set up shop.

One of the newest and more popular stops is Fanny and Flossie’s Family Figurines. The modest storefront features colorful caricatures of Fanny and Flossy, the sisters who own and operate the curio shop. Once inside, though, guests find themselves marveling at miniature plastic replicas of people and places that are exacting in their depiction.

Stores that allow customers to play dress up while posing for sepiatone photos in saloons and dance halls remain popular, but this is a step above.

Newlyweds, families – anyone – can have their images recreated in 1/8 scale thanks to what Fancy and Flossy call their “Miniature Memories Machine.”

“How y’all doin’?” Fanny asked, her southern twang greeting a young couple who wandered in from the busy street. “Where ya from?”

The young woman smiled broadly.

“Columbus, Ohio,” she said. “I’m Sally and this is my husband, Frank. We’re on our honeymoon.”

“Well, bless your heart,” chimed in Flossy. “Might not want to say it too loud, though. People in these parts are still mad about y’all kickin’ our hind ends in that football game last year. I’m just kiddin’ – everybody comes to Oglesburg to have fun. And Fanny and me don’t care much for sports, anyway.”

Sally leaned down and carefully examined the displays; the figurines were incredibly lifelike.

“This is amazing,” Sally said, pointing to a  creation that featured what appeared to be a mom, dad, two young children and their labrador retriever standing in front of a fountain. “The hair on the dog is incredibly realistic. If I’m careful, can I touch it?”

“Go ahead,” Flossy said. “It’s plastic so it ain’t gone break.”

Sally ran her hand over the dog figure.

“Wow,” she said. “I half-expected it to be fur but, yeah, it sure feels like plastic.”

Fanny eyed Frank and winked.

“I bet your bride would be real impressed if you bought her a figurine of you and her all cuddled up in the Smokies,” she said. “All you have to do is step into our studio and then our Miniature Memories Machine can have your figurine ready in a week to 10 days.”

Frank looked at Sally and shrugged.

“I dunno,” he said. “I mean, these figurines look fantastic, but I doubt we could afford it. Something this realistic can’t come cheap.”

Fanny shook her head.

“You’d be wrong, young man,” she said. “Does $20 sound like too much?”

Franks eyes widened.

“Are you serious?” he exclaimed. “You could do a figurine of us for just $20?”

“Oh, honey,” she said. “We ain’t in this for the money. Flossy and me just love seein’ people happy. And with our low prices, we can make a lot of people happy. Just consider this our Honeymoon Special, special-made for you two lovebirds.”

Sally and Frank looked at each other.

“It’s a deal,” Sally said. “So, what do we do?”

Fanny pointed to a door leading to a back room.

“Nothin’ to it,” she said. “We have all kinds of backgrounds in there, and all we do is put you in front of one – I think the fancy term for it is a green screen – take your picture, and run it through our Miniature Memories Machine. Why don’t you two go on in there and get ready? There’s a ticket you need to fill out in there with your address so we’ll know where to send your figurine, and there’s a book with all sorts of backgrounds to choose from. And the best part? You don’t even need to pay us right now. You can just send your money when you get your plastic likeness … we want to make sure you’re completely satisfied with it. We’ll give you a couple of minutes to decide, and then we’ll be right in. Just close the door once you’re inside, if you don’t mind.”

Sally and Frank walked in and shut the door behind them. Flossy waited a moment, eyed the door, and pulled a small wooden wand from her dress pocket. With a short wave of the instrument she shouted, “Stasis Permanentus!”

She opened the door to the room and it was empty, except for the Miniature Memories Machine.

The square contraption hummed and clicked, and in less than a minute a 1/8 scale figure of Sally and Frank standing at the entrance of the Great Smoky Mountains was produced.

Fanny eyed the art and gave a thumbs up.

“Another good one, sister,” she said. “Another real good one. Looks just exactly like ‘em.”

“It should Fanny, since it is them,” Flossy said with a chuckle. “But I can’t take all the credit. When you combine witchcraft and a 3D printer, well … it’s magic.”

The Galloping Ghost goes pro

A hundred years ago, college football was considered the pinnacle of the sport. And once a star player finished his classroom obligations and university gridiron career, polite society expected him to either move on to the business world or learn the coaching craft.

Halfback/quarterback/defensive back Harold “Red” Grange, however, had other ideas.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Bluesky @scottadamson1960.bsky.social

You know the joke about elite players going to school and majoring in football? In a way, that’s what “The Galloping Ghost” did.

And at the time, it caused quite a bit of controversy.

On November 22, 1925 – a day after leading Illinois to a 14-9 victory over Ohio State in his final game as an amateur – Grange signed to play professionally for the Chicago Bears. There were rumors he was already being paid by agent C.C. Pyle, although he insisted  he didn’t partner with Pyle until after the season-ending contest.

Regardless, the NFL team promised to pay him $30,500 per game, which is the equivalent of nearly $565,000 in 2025 money.

Not a bad deal for a 22-year-old who still hadn’t earned his degree.

“I have received many alluring offers to enter fields of enterprise in which I have had no training or experience,” Grange told the Associated Press. “I believe the public will be better satisfied with my honesty and good motives if I turn my efforts to that field in which I have been most useful in order to reap a reward which will keep the home fires burning. I am leaving college temporarily but will return later.”

Illinois athletics director George Huff, football coach Robert Zuppke and even Grange’s father, Lyle, wanted the superstar to seek employment away from the field.

Ultimately, however, Lyle Grange supported his son’s decision.

“I am sorry that he did not accept the other offers made him,” his dad said. “But as long as the boy has decided to play professional football, I hope he will be a success and make the best of it. Harold is capable of looking out for himself and I have a lot of faith in him.”

At the time the NFL – just six years old – was not much of a draw at the box office. The hope was that bringing Grange into the league would change that.

He was to play six games with the Bears to close out the season and then embark on a barnstorming tour in Florida.

The deal was arguably the biggest sports news of the year.

From a November 23, 1925 Associated Press story:

Harold “Red” Grange, the reigning football hero of the moment, will don his fighting togs again Thanksgiving Day but he will not wear the famous “77” of collegiate days. For Red has turned professional to follow, as he phrases it, the business he knows best. Declaring that he had no training that would enable him to accept other alluring offers, the strawberry blonde warrior of the chalked field signed a contract yesterday that will place him in the Chicago Bears lineup for six games, after which he will invade Florida during the holidays.

A November 25 editorial in the La Crosse Tribune even provided Grange with a backhanded compliment on his decision to play for pay:

People who think that Red Grange is making a mistake in postponing his ‘career’ for professional football should consider that the game already offers a career in itself, comparable to that of league baseball. It is a less honorific career, perhaps, than one of the professions. We do not take presidents, supreme court judges or ambassadors from the ranks of ball-players. But we have had governors and congressmen who began their careers on the diamond.

The NFL certainly got what it paid for.

Grange’s Turkey Day debut against the Chicago Cardinals was played in front of more than 36,000 fans at what is now Wrigley Field, and 70,000-plus paid for seats at the Polo Grounds to see the Bears tangle with the New York Giants in his next outing.

Grange was the indisputable star of the show, and drew huge crowds everywhere he played.

When he couldn’t come to terms with the Bears in 1926, Pyle formed a new league (the short-lived American Football League) and new team (New York Yankees) to showcase the generational talent.

As it turns out, Grange never did return to Illinois to get his degree. He did, however, wind up in the Pro Football Hall of Fame – one of 17 charter members. He is also in the inaugural class of the College Football Hall of Fame.

A devastating knee injury in 1927 took away his speed, but he became a star DB during his last few seasons of pro ball. He retired in 1935 after playing in 237 games. He went on to be an assistant coach for the Bears before dabbling in acting. Later, he worked in everything from broadcasting to motivational speaking and private business.

(Grange was even tapped as commissioner of the 1940s iteration of the United States Football League. More on that here:

adamsonmedia.com/nfl-aafc-pro-football/

After hanging up his cleats, Grange was asked if jumping to pro ball in 1925 was the right decision.

“I’d probably do the same thing,” he said. “I wouldn’t sell the friendships and contacts I’ve made in professional football for anything. About the only thing I’m sure I wouldn’t do is make some of the investments I did, but I guess there are a lot of people in the same boat with me.”

Here to serve

The soup kitchen at the recreation center on Redemption Avenue was especially busy two weeks before the Thanksgiving holiday, and Nate Raimi was spooning out his vegetable medley special just as fast as he possibly could.

“How’s it going, buddy?” he said to the bearded man whose shaky hands were holding a Styrofoam bowl. “I threw in some navy beans in this batch, and I think it might be the best soup we’ve had in a while. There’s bread and tea over there on the table … and feel free to come back for seconds. Or thirds.”

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Bluesky @scottadamson1960.bsky.social

Two years earlier, Raimi had met with an official from the World Metahuman Clearinghouse in hopes of getting funding for a project designed to help him spread compassion throughout the world.

Working under the not-so-secret identity of “Compassion-Nate,” his superpower was setting off a chain reaction of empathy to all those he encountered. Unfortunately, the WMC not only refused his request for a grant, but he soon learned the group wasn’t interested in his brand of heroism.

A world full of compassionate people would lessen the need for superheroes, and that was bad for their business. Thus, some of the more cut-throat officials were determined to stop him – by any means necessary.

Despite the threat, Nate still did what he could, and bringing a bit of hope to people who had little or none was why he spent much of his time as a volunteer.

Yet, while serving those in need took up a good bit of his time, he was also learning all he could about Clancy Orion.

Orion had become an internet sensation when he prevented a drunk driver from hitting a group of children at a playground. The social media world dubbed him “Captain Hysterical” after he claimed his ability to crumple the front end of the vehicle and stop it cold was due to high adrenaline, or “hysterical strength.”

Nate discovered that was not the case. Orion was actually an extraterrestrial from the planet Wolf 1061c who had been on earth for a decade. There was a significant number of superheroes who feared he was the vanguard of an imminent Wolfian invasion, although Nate was not among them. He looked for the best in people – human or alien – and Orion’s actions suggested he was here to help rather than harm.

Captain Hysterical was an observer, perhaps, but not an occupier.

Today’s immediate concern, however, was feeding the hungry, and assisting Nate in that endeavor was an old friend, known in crimefighting circles – appropriately enough – as “Old Man.” O.M., as Nate calls him, had gained a bit of notoriety when he apprehended Professor Purloin at Rickman Plaza back in 2023. However, he was quickly forgotten as Spectacular Man and Frau the Fearless dominated headlines with their flashy uniforms and over-the-top theatrics while catching more colorful villains.

Older people often go unnoticed, which worked to his advantage, but it also meant Old Man found himself on the outside looking in lately when the world needed a hero.

With his services no longer wanted, he showed up every weekday at the soup kitchen to lend Nate a hand. Of course, his guise made him look more like a customer than a volunteer – a ragged Jaxon cap, blue and red flannel shirt, and polyester pants pulled up almost to his nipples.

“Hey, O.M., do you mind going back to the kitchen and checking on the soup?” Nate asked. “We’re getting near the bottom of this pot.”

Old Man nodded.

“On it. I ever tell you about the time I used a can of minestrone to stop a grocery store robbery?” said O.M., whose rambling stories would often throw evildoers off their game and allow him to take the upper hand. “Rascal walked in and pulled out a pistol while I was on aisle 5A – that’s the soup, rice and beans aisle – so I grabbed a can of low sodium minestrone, took aim, and clocked him right in the noggin. He went down like one of them Jenga towers and I moseyed on over and kicked his weapon away. You remember what I told the police when they showed up?”

Nate chuckled.

“I do … but you’re gonna tell me again, anyway.”

“I said to the officer, I said, ‘The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a can of soup.’ He got a chuckle out of that. And you gotta admit … it’s a dang good line. Probably shoulda copyrighted it now that I think about it. Superheroes need a catchphrase.”

As O.M. made his way toward the kitchen the feeding line kept forming, and Nate noticed a smartly dressed woman walk through the front door.

Maisie Petra was well-known around the rec center. She was a homicide detective and could often be seen cruising through the neighborhood, one that she had grown up in and still cared for.

What wasn’t well-known was that she was also Violet Femme, a crusading hero who often clashed with the sinister Havoc Club. She had actually worked with Old Man on a few jobs, but her encounters with Nate had mostly been “off the clock” and informal. He provided a shoulder to cry on when her crimefighting partner, Yellowhammer, was killed, and the two had stayed in touch ever since.

On this afternoon, however, she had some business to discuss with the man furiously ladling soup.

“Care to try my special, detective?” he asked.

“I know it’s delicious, but I had an early lunch,” she said. “When you get a minute, though, I’d like to talk to you about something. I understand you have some information I might be interested in hearing.”

Old Man was just coming out of the kitchen with a huge pot of soup and lit up when he saw Maisie.

“Hiya, kid!” he chirped. “This ain’t a raid, is it? If so, you’re too late. Poker game broke up more than an hour ago.”

Maisie laughed and, after O.M. put the soup down on the serving table, walked over to give him a hug.

“You taking care of yourself, Old Man? I see you’re still a fashion plate.”

O.M. pulled his pants even higher.

“Never needed a fancy costume,” he said. “Just gimme some thrift store britches and a bad guy to bamboozle, and I’m raring to go. Anyway, I overheard you saying you need to talk to Nate … forgot I had my hearing aid set on supersonic.”

O.M. grabbed the ladle from Nate.

“Go talk to your girlfriend,” he said with a wink. “I got this.”

Maisie and Nate stepped toward the back of the rec center and he produced a thumb drive.

“This has everything we know about Clancy Orion,” he said.

“Lots of interesting stuff on there. I guess for our purposes, though, the headline is that he can only eat tomatoes.”

Nate handed the thumb drive to Maisie.

“Please keep this between us, Maisie,” he said. “I’ll let O.M. know. Oh … and I’ll be in touch about Thanksgiving.”

Maisie waved at Old Man as she left, and Nate returned to take control of the soup ladle.

“Well?” O.M. asked.

“Well, I let her know he can only eat tomatoes, which changes our meal plan a bit,” Nate said. “But, we’ll make it work.”

O.M. gently patted Nate on this hand.

“You’re a good egg, my boy. You think he’ll accept your invitation? If I was him I’d be a little paranoid, especially with everything going on at WMC … and the world.”

Nate nodded.

“I’m pretty sure he knows who we are and knows our intentions. I hope he comes … he’s lightyears from home, and Thanksgiving can be a tough time. I hate to see anybody spend it alone.”

These characters were featured in earlier flash fiction pieces. In case you forgot them, here are links to their origin stories.