Note Readers by Hampton Sides

From Hellhound On His Trail: The Electrifying Account of the Largest Manhunt In American History, by Hampton Sides (Knopf Doubleday, 2010), Kindle ed.

I was just a kid when it happened—six years old, living in a rambling brick house on Cherry Road close by the Southern Railway. My father worked for the Memphis law firm that represented King when he came to town on behalf of the garbage workers, and I remember my dad rushing home that night, pouring a screwdriver or three, and talking with alarm about what had happened and what it meant for the city and the nation and the world. I remember the curfew, the wail of sirens, a line of soldiers with fixed bayonets. I remember seeing tanks for the first time. Mainly, I recall the fear in the adult voices coming over the radio and television—the undertow of panic, as it seemed to everyone that our city was ripping apart.

Four days after the assassination, Coretta Scott King arrived in Memphis, wearing her widow’s veil, and led the peaceful march her husband could not lead. For several miles, tens of thousands of mourners threaded through the somber downtown streets to city hall. Enveloped in the beautiful sadness, no one breathed a word. There was no shouting or picketing, not even a song. The only sound was leather on pavement.

All writers sooner or later go back to the place where they came from. With this book, I wanted to go back to the pivotal moment in the place where I came from. In April 1968, a killer rode into a city I know and love. He set himself up with a high-powered rifle a few blocks from the Mississippi River and took aim at history. The shock waves still emanate from room 306 at the Lorraine Motel, and continue to register across the globe. The Lorraine has become an international shrine, visited by the likes of the Dalai Lama and Nelson Mandela and the boys from U2—a holy place. People come from all over the world to stand on the balcony where King stood, squinting in the humidity, surveying the sight lines of fate. They try to imagine what really happened, and what larger plots might have been stirring in the shadows.

The first writer I ever met, the great Memphis historian Shelby Foote, once said of his Civil War trilogy that he had “employed the novelist’s methods without his license,” and that’s a good rule of thumb for what I’ve attempted here. Though I’ve tried to make the narrative as fluidly readable as possible, this is a work of nonfiction. Every scene is supported by the historical record. Every physical and atmospheric detail arises from factual evidence. And every conversation is reconstructed from documents. I’ve consulted congressional testimony, newspaper accounts, oral histories, memoirs, court proceedings, autopsy reports, archival news footage, crime scene photographs, and official reports filed by the Memphis authorities, the FBI, the U.S. Justice Department, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and Scotland Yard. Along the way, I’ve conducted scores of personal interviews and traveled tens of thousands of miles—from Puerto Vallarta to London, from St. Louis to Lisbon. Readers who are curious about how I constructed the narrative will find my sources cited in copious detail in the notes and bibliography.

As for King’s assassin, I’ve let his story speak for itself. Whether witlessly, incidentally, or on purpose, he left behind a massive body of evidence. Much of my account of his worldwide travels comes from his own words. The rest comes from the record. Many questions remain about his motives, his sources of money, and how much help he may have had. But the killer left his fingerprints, both literal and figurative, over everything.

HAMPTON SIDES, SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO

Evolution of Polish Viticulture

My latest compilation of stories from Culture.pl includes an interview about the history of Polish viticulture. Here are some excerpts:

Monika Kucia: Poland isn’t historically a winemaking country, but we do have a short history of winemaking dating back centuries. When were grapes first cultivated on our territories? 

Wojciech Bońkowski: In the Middle Ages, viticulture was quite developed in our country, also because the climate in our part of Europe was warmer back then. Wine was mainly needed for religious purposes, the celebration of mass, so it was grown on a limited, very small scale. Cultivation collapsed due to the so-called Little Ice Age, a period of cooling in the North Atlantic when average temperatures in the Northern Hemisphere dropped by about 1°C. Around the 17th century, Poland began importing large quantities of wine from, among other places, Hungary and Ukraine. After World War II, Lubusz Voivodeship, including Zielona Góra ['Grünberg'], was incorporated into Poland. Before 1939, Zielona Góra was the largest wine-producing region in Germany and specialized in sparkling wines. We took over these vineyards, but they, too, were closed down by the 1960s because the Polish communist authorities promoted the production of fruit wines, not grape wines.

MK: What is fruit wine?

WB: Fruit wine is a cheap alcoholic beverage made from widely available fruit, in Poland primarily from apples. Hence the Polish term ‘jabol’ [slang term for low-quality, wine-like alcoholic fruit beverage derived from the word for ‘apple’, jabłko, trans.]. This kind of wine is much cheaper to produce than wine made from the fermentation of grape must. Fruit wine production was possible in Poland on a large scale thanks to the orchard industry. The Polish People’s Republic saw a decline in wine culture, which had been quite developed in interwar Poland, among the elite of course. The common folk, if we may use that term, drank other alcoholic beverages. This is, of course, a result of our geographical location. We have a different social situation today; changes are affecting the whole of society, and wine has definitely become very popular. Studies show that nearly 50% of Poles declare at least occasional wine consumption.

...

MK: How did it all begin?

WB: Winemaking was first revived in the Podkarpackie ['Subcarpathian']  region thanks to the efforts of Roman Myśliwiec ['Hunter'], who founded a nursery where he propagated vines and supported the establishment of small vineyards and the production of wine in a style we affectionately call ‘allotment garden wine’. Some had 1,000, others 2,000 square meters of vineyard. Back then, no one had a hectare. These were amateur production attempts. 

...

MK: Where did the winemakers get their seedlings?

WB: Partly from Myśliwiec, but of course, seedlings can be easily purchased in wine-producing countries. We have Czechia and Slovakia just across the border. That’s not a problem, just a cost. And these were investors, businessmen who had money they’d made in other industries.

MK: And what about Jutrzenka in the Podkarpackie region?

WB: That was a variety created by Myśliwiec, a typical hybrid. The problem with hybrids was that most of them were of very poor quality. The early ones, such as Bianca and Sibera, were so-called second-generation hybrids that reeked of cabbage and IXI laundry powder; they had no merits.

MK: So why were they cultivated?

WB: Hybrids are developed for two purposes: either to ripen early and be suitable for a cold climate, which was their main function in Poland; or to be more disease resistant. At the time, it seemed that we in Poland couldn’t grow Chardonnay or any other viniferavariety, that the grapes wouldn’t be ripe enough to make wine. This turned out to be untrue. It gets a little warmer every year, which helps. Meanwhile, the discussion about hybrids is currently gaining momentum worldwide. On the one hand, we have the pressure of significantly reducing the use of chemicals in agriculture; after all, winemaking is responsible for a significant portion of soil contamination – in France, for example. There are stories about a winemaker spraying fifteen times, but if he’s planted a hybrid, spraying twice would be enough.

MK: So hybrids aren’t ‘inferior’?

WB: At first, I was skeptical about hybrids. Not from a cultivation perspective, as I don’t know anything about it, or at least I don’t have practical experience, but from the perspective of the market and the quality of these wines. Fourth-generation hybrids, such as Johanniter and Solaris, are varietals that are no longer easy to distinguish in a comparative tasting; they are simply very good. Johanniter and Riesling can be very similar, so the quality argument is no longer relevant.

MK: And can one grow noble red wine varietals in Poland?

WB: In Poland, for example, we have a lot of Pinot Noir; this varietal has recently produced surprisingly good wines in many places around the world, such as Czechia and Canada, which have similar climatic conditions to Poland. It used to be said that this was a difficult grape variety which only performed well in Burgundy, but that’s not true. That’s the great thing about wine – we’re constantly being self-verified. Yesterday, it seemed that only Italian wines were sexy, but today, wines from Greece and Croatia are considered sexy. It’s constantly changing.

Japanese Little League and Yakuza

From Rounding the Bases: The Story of Little League Baseball in Japan, by James J. Orr (U. Hawaii Press, 2026), Kindle pp. 130-132:

There remained one sticking point to this collaboration: Yomiuri’s special interest in Kansai Little League coverage. There were some in the Little League community who wished for Yomiuri to not only continue coverage but increase its involvement. Musashino Little League’s Mitsuyasu in particular lobbied for Yomiuri kingpin Shōriki Tōru to lead Little League Japan, and bemoaned Fuji-Sankei’s involvement. But Mitsui’s long-term plan was to work with Fuji-Sankei, and Fuji-Sankei did not want to get involved in a media struggle for coverage rights in the Kansai. When Fuji-Sankei president Shikauchi insisted on full nationwide rights, Mizukami told Hoshino he should make the trip down to Yomiuri’s Osaka offices to negotiate their withdrawal, allowing Mitsui and Sankei to handle Little League nationwide. Hoshino packed his bag for what he thought would be an overnight trip. He ended up spending almost a week there.

One might think that Hoshino would have to spend most of his time and energy convincing Yomiuri to defer to Fuji Sankei, but that decision was not fully Yomiuri’s to make. Before he even approached Yomiuri, Hoshino first had to engage certain underworld elements. At the height of their influence in the 1960s, Japan’s idiosyncratic yakuza gangster world had its origins in two broad arenas with significant overlap: bakutō (gambling) and tekiya (carnie). The tekiya traditionally made their money by organizing and operating quasi-legal protection rackets for street and carnival sales stalls. One profitable variant in the post–World War II years were corporate-level extortionists known as sōkaiya who specialized in disrupting the annual stockholder meetings unless their demands were met. Japan’s yakuza are known for their haughty profession of right-wing or ultra-nationalist postures. One imagines that making the rounds of corporations on behalf of a youth sports team about to represent Japan in an international competition presented an appealing opportunity for them. Although surely not a major money maker, yakuza had apparently made a racket of skimming a healthy portion of funds solicited from businesses in support of Little League. If Fuji Sankei and Mitsui Bussan were going to take over sponsorship of Little League in the Kansai, their support systems would have to be brought aboveboard and questionable connections with the criminal underworld would have to be severed. But in the murky world of accommodations of convenience and unspoken but implicit understandings, an unexpected departure from the cozy tekiya fundraising arrangement would have ripple effects.

In short, Hoshino knew that Yomiuri could not act pre-emptively without the understanding and consent of its associates. To do otherwise would incur the ire of yakuza and expose their organization to irritating and embarrassing harassment that was the yakuza métier. It would be a question of saving face. One thinks of the lampooning scene in comic filmmaker Itami Jūzō’s 1988 A Taxing Woman’s Return in which a local gangster boss intimidates office staff and citizens at a local tax office, all based on the absurdly reverse assertion that he was himself being harassed.16 If Yomiuri had dropped Little League sponsorship without first consulting and gaining the yakuza padrone’s acquiescence, then their whole organization would have been subjected to the charge of insulting or undercutting the yakuza’s pride.

So, Hoshino went to talk with the tekiya boss first, traveling as instructed to a desolate train station in the less-populated areas in the middle of rice paddies between Osaka and Kyoto. On his retelling, Hoshino joked that he felt like he was being kidnapped when several henchmen sauntered around him and then spirited him away in a four-door coupe to the gangster boss’s home, where he ended up staying as a nervous house guest for three or four days. It was a harrowing week, and he had to approach, as he put it, “many scary people” to extricate Little League from this legally questionable fundraising system. Hoshino’s negotiating strategy was simple: ingratiate himself with the boss and then appeal to his ego by asking for his help to convince Yomiuri to allow Mitsui and Sankei to control national coverage. After three or four days of negotiation, while being a not fully willing house guest, Hoshino succeeded. At that point, the tekiya boss took the lead in visiting the Osaka Yomiuri offices, with Hoshino in tow, to “advise” Yomiuri that Fuji Sankei and Mitsui were, so to speak, taking over the Kansai Little League franchise.

Mitsui Bussan and Fuji Sankei became official sponsors for both the 1970 All-Japan and Far East tournaments held at the Higashi Fuchū grounds, and Sankei gave the tournament good coverage in its media network. Hoshino arranged for the players to be billeted in U.S. military barracks and fed at the commissary at nearby Fuchu Air Station, a communications hub for U.S. military in the Far East. Hoshino himself bunked there during the two weeks prior while making tournament arrangements, and then as chaperone for the players during the tournaments that featured teams from the Marshall Islands and Taiwan.

Taiwan's Little League Fans

From Rounding the Bases: The Story of Little League Baseball in Japan, by James J. Orr (U. Hawaii Press, 2026), Kindle pp. 112-114:

Taiwan’s Chinese Baseball Association, in association with Lions Club International, had also invited Yoshikura to bring a Kansai Renmei team to Taiwan for a series of five exhibition games that August. Both nanshiki [rubber baseball] and hardball baseball were popular pastimes in Taiwan, a legacy of the island’s prewar years as a Japanese colony. In preparation for an event loaded with patriotic interest, Taiwanese leaders arranged for the Hongye and Chuiyang teams, the winner and runner-up in Taiwan’s 20th Annual Provincial Children’s Cup in May, to train for as long as a month at a military base. The Kansai team, rostered from seven of the Kansai Renmei teams, defeated Chuiyang 1–0 in the first matchup. But they lost to the powerhouse Hongye “Maple Leaf” team 7–0 in front of 20,000 in Taipei Stadium and a live television audience. They lost again to a national Taiwanese all-star team the next day, 5–1, and again to Hongye the day after, 5–2. Kansai saved some face by winning the final game against a provincial all-star team from Jiayi.

The large numbers viewing this series of games in person or on television illustrated and spurred Taiwanese enthusiasm for the international Little League competition that soon far exceeded interest in Little League baseball at this point in Japan. It also presaged the popular interest in Hongye and Taiwan’s dominance of the Little League World Series for the next twenty years. A staggering two-thirds of the island’s population watched a middle-of-the-night broadcast of the island nation’s Little League championship game in 1971.

The Kansai squad’s 1968 visit became a Taiwanese national phenomenon, symbolic of several interconnected and competing ethnic and national tensions characteristic of the island community, which historians of Taiwan baseball agree was a “defining moment in the history of Taiwan nationalism.” For one thing, the ruling Nationalist KMT/GMD, the former mainland government that had been pushed into exile on the island, had not promoted baseball at all since it had not been played in China. Baseball was, ironically enough from an American perspective, intimately tied to Taiwan’s colonial era as subaltern in Japan’s empire, an inconvenient fact the Nationalist press avoided. Yet a vibrant baseball culture continued, even at the elementary school level. The fact that the Hongye school was from a mountainous Bunun Aborigine district in the southeastern Taitung Province added an ethnic dimension to the story, so the team’s success against the Japanese suggested the possibility of a native Taiwan free of Chiang Kai-Shek’s KMT/GMD mainland rule. As elaborated by Andrew Morris, David Harney, and others, the official Republic of China government attempted rather to coopt Hongye’s success in an anti-communist agenda affirming the Nationalist government rule by celebrating a capitalist work ethic in the face of their impoverished background.

The ideological import for the Japanese was rather straightforward in comparison to the situation for their hosts, for whom nationalist and ethnic pride competed in overlapping discourses between mainland Chinese and island Taiwanese identities. The Taiwanese hosts to the Kansai delegation rather celebrated the historic connection. At the official ceremony, for example, one Taiwan parent who had played at Kōshien in the prewar imperial era recited a poem on the “way of baseball” spirit by the recently deceased Kondō Hyōtarō, a fabulously successful baseball coach who took his multi-ethnic Jiayi team to Kōshien four times in the early 1930s. And at least one member of the Kansai delegation reconnected with acquaintances from the prewar colonial years.

As discussed in chapter 4, the 1967 West Tokyo Little League success in the American-sponsored Little League venue affirmed the older Japanese Little League leadership’s nationalist desire for approbation of Japan’s remarkable postwar recovery. The warm reception for the August 1968 Kansai Renmei delegation allowed a measure of nostalgia for Japan’s imperial era, despite the team’s modest performance against the former colony’s teams. In Japanese recollections of the trip, Hongye’s hardscrabble origins are conveyed by images of barefoot players. And it is suggestive that such recollections mention the delegation’s gifting of their hardball equipment as an act of noblesse oblige befitting, viewed from traditional East Asian notions of imperial governance, the beneficence of a former colonial ruler.

Japan's Baseball Crazy Wakayama

From Rounding the Bases: The Story of Little League Baseball in Japan, by James J. Orr (U. Hawaii Press, 2026), Kindle pp. 100-102:

Wakayama is a provincial city 50 miles south of Osaka. Where Nanba, one of Osaka’s main commercial hubs, is the northern terminus of the Nankai main line that follows the eastern shore of Osaka Bay, Wakayama is an hour south at the other end of the line. The region has a rich provincial heritage on the periphery of the main power centers in Japanese history. A city located at the edge of waters between the Osaka Bay and the Pacific Ocean, Wakayama straddles the mouth of the River Kii, a waterway with its source in the mountainous Kii Peninsula. At the beginning of the Ashikaga shogunate in the fourteenth-century “Nambokuchō” era of competing imperial courts (1336–1392), Emperor Godaigo’s southern line ensconced itself near its source in the mountainous Kii Peninsula interior. During the two-and-a-half centuries of the relatively stable Tokugawa era (c. 1600–1868), Wakayama was held by one of the shogunal cadet houses that twice provided heirs to the main shogunal line. And in the sixteenth-century sengoku or “warring states” era of fragmented rule before the Tokugawa era, a major peasant mutual defense league known as the Saika Ikki resisted the great warlord Oda Nobunaga’s consolidation of power. Its headquarters was in a fortress near the present-day castle and today lends its name to a section of the city, an elementary school, and a youth baseball club important to the emergence of Wakayama Little League. Saika is also a common surname in Wakayama.

In the mid-1960s, Wakayama was a growing city that featured a major steel mill, a healthy agricultural and fisheries sector, and as important for our interests, a robust baseball community. Dr. Hotta Eiji, Doshisha University Chancellor and one-time president of the Japan High School Baseball Federation (known as Kōyaren), observed to the author that, although Wakayama City and its eponymous prefecture is not that large in terms of population, its residents have long been known for their fervent enthusiasm for high school baseball, and the prefecture boasts a number of perennially strong high school teams. A 1965 survey by the Wakayama Broadcasting Company found that over 90 percent of respondents considered themselves baseball fans, while only 2.5 percent maintained they had no interest. Wakayama Chū, Wakayama’s prewar prefectural middle school, was one of the inaugural teams to play in the summer Kōshien high school baseball tournament, Japan’s most popular sporting event that began in Osaka’s Toyonaka City in 1915. The school won the tournament in 1921 and 1922 (when it was played in Nishinomiya), after which they hosted the future Showa Emperor at his first baseball game at their newly built concrete stands later that year. Tōin High School, Wakayama Chū’s reincarnation after the postwar education reforms, has produced numerous players and accomplished managers in Tokyo’s premier university baseball league, the “Big Six.” One indicator of Wakayama’s enduring baseball fervor is that a group of 50 former high school players born in and around 1955, the age cohort that would have been Little League age in the late 1960s, meet annually to socialize, reminisce, and just talk baseball.

Wakayama has a vibrant nanshiki [rubber baseball] infrastructure with many elementary school-age teams formed along local social networks—school, shrine or temple, parental work relationships, and so on—that compete in summer tournaments sponsored both by the municipal youth sports promotion association as well as by local companies and volunteer organizations. Judging from common team names, contemporary reports in the local Wakayama newspaper, player recollections, later comments by league officials, and an analysis of Little League roster information with residency data from the city youth sports organization, it is clear that the 1966 and 1967 Little League teams were in fact all-star teams selected from the Wakayama Youth Baseball Association spring and summer nanshiki tournaments. Because the Japanese school year begins in April, what this means is that most of the players selected for the summer Little League tournament rosters were already in seventh grade playing for their junior high school nanshiki teams.

Hirota Hideo and Wakayama’s Youth Baseball Community

The major figure in Wakayama’s youth baseball community in this era was a fabric wholesaler by the name of Hirota Hideo. Like many baseball men in Japan in this era, he had played baseball in the prewar years, at Wakayama’s Ninoshima High School. He was a member of his local PTA, a board member on the Wakayama youth sports association, and a charismatic individual whose business and civic connections ranged far and wide. The Hirotas lived directly opposite the Saika Elementary School that their two daughters attended, and provided conveniently located home care for the infant children of the school’s young female teachers. In 1961, Hirota founded what became the strongest team in the Wakayama Shōnen Yakyū Renmei (Wakayama Youth Baseball Association). He was the manager of the club until 1969.

Like Dr. Sasa in Tanashi, Hirota was an important agent beyond baseball in creating the civic sports organizations that sprung up in response to the national government’s promotion of youth sports culture in the early to mid-1960s. On the occasion of its 50th anniversary in 1962, the Japan Sports Association (JASA)—Japan’s equivalent to that era’s Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) in the United States—founded an affiliate Junior association with the aim of promoting youth interest in sports in the run-up to the 1964 Tokyo Olympics. With offices in the city’s Taiiku Kyōkai Physical Education Association, Wakayama’s Junior Sports Association’s founding charter mandated board representation from every youth sports association in the city as well as from elementary and junior high principals, the local Taiiku Kyōkai Athletic Association itself, and the administrative offices of the city’s Board of Education. In its 20th anniversary publication, the founding director Hisashi Shōzō credited “baseball’s Hirota” as one of two individuals who really helped him get the organization going in 1965, when it listed 20 sports associations as members.

The Nankai Hawks were my favorite baseball team during my high school years in Kobe during the 1960s. Their Japanese Hall-of-Fame pitcher and catcher combination, Tadashi Sugiura and Katsuya Nomura, were hard to beat.

Polish Realia: Blood Donations

 Zaznacz prawidłową odpowiedź: Prawda/Fałsz

Select the correct answer: True/False

1. Przed donacją trzeba znać swoją grupę krwi.
   Before the donation, one must know one’s blood group.
2. Przerwa między oddaniami krwi pełnej nie może być krótsza niż 8 tygodni.
   The interval between whole blood donations may not be shorter than 8 weeks.
3. Do przeszczepienia wątroby często potrzeba aż 20 jednostek krwi.
   For a liver transplant often require as many as 20 units of blood.
4. Jeden Biorca często potrzebuje pomocy kilku Dawców.
   One Recipient often needs the help of several Donors.
5. Dawca może przyjmować witaminy.
   The Donor can take vitamins.
6. Składniki krwi przechowuje się razem.
   Blood components are stored together.
7. Noworodkom podaje się krew tylko od dorosłych, którzy są nimi spokrewnieni.
   Newborns are given blood only from adults who are related to them.
8. Wegetarianie I weganie nie mogą oddawać krwi.
   Vegetarians and vegans may not donate blood.
9. Przeziębienie jest przeciwwskazaniem do oddania krwi lub jej składników.
   A cold is a contraindication to donating blood or its components.
10. Po donacji organizm Dawcy produkuje nadwyżki krwi.
    After donation, the Donor's body produces surplus blood.
11. Osoba leczona krwią nie może nigdy zostać Dawcą.
    A person treated with blood can never become a Donor.
12. Zaostrzona alergia jest przeciwwskazaniem czasowym dla Dawców.
    Exacerbated allergy is a temporary contraindication for Donors.
13. Po donacji organism uzupełnia braki w ciągu 3-4 dni.
    After donation, the body replenishes deficiencies within 3-4 days.

Poprawne odpowiedzi: N T T T T N N N T N N T T
Correct answers: F T T T T F F F T F F T T

Polish Realia: Brewery Operating Steps

On the occasion of Śmigus-Dyngus:
From the illustrated placemat at Browar Pivovaria, in Radom, Poland.
Najlepsze Piwa z Radomia / Warzone na Miejscu
'Best beer from Radom / Brewed on Site'

Słód 'malt'
Mielenie Słodu / śrutownik 'grinding the malt' / 'grinder'
Zacieranie / kadż zaciera + woda 'rubbing / mash tun + water'
Filtracja / kadż filtracyjna 'filtration / filtration vat'
Gotowanie / kocioł warzelny + chmiel 'cooking / boiling kettle + hops'
Schładzanie Brzeczki / wymiennik ciepła 'cooling the wort / heat exchanger'
Fermentacja / tank fermentacyjny + drożdże 'fermentation / fermentation tank + yeast'
Leżakowanie / tank leżakowy 'aging / aging tanks'
Butelka 'bottle' or Keg 'keg'