Weekend Argus (Saturday Edition)

It might make one across, but don’t get too down

The ‘temporary madness’ hasn’t waned as crosswords celebrate their 100th birthday, writes MERLE REAGLE

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ON A SNOWY evening in the early 1900s, a newspaper editor at the New York World was hunched over his desk trying to think of something special for the Christmas issue. Rememberin­g the small word squares he’d solved as a young Brit in Liverpool, he drew a diamond-shaped grid with numbered squares and numbered clues. It contained 32 words, and his simple instructio­n read: “Fill in the small squares with words which agree with the following definition­s.”

The puzzle appeared December 21, 1913, and what 42-year-old Arthur Wynne had created was the first crossword puzzle.

It was an instant success. Mail poured in. Readers didn’t mind that the first puzzle contained some very unusual words, such as “neif ”, “tane”, “neva” and “nard”. Or that the word “dove” appeared twice, once clued as”a bird” and once as “a pigeon”. Or that the most unusual word was “doh”, defined as “the fibre of the gomuti palm” a clue that, if it appeared today, would elicit much the same reaction from solvers as it would from Homer Simpson.

Wynne pushed for the newspaper to copyright it, but his bosses considered the crossword a passing trifle. New York Times editorials labelled them a waste of time.

After just a few years, Wynne’s interest waned. He still made crosswords, but he also accepted reader submission­s, becoming the country’s first crossword editor as well. By 1921, after eight years as captain of the crossword, Wynne handed the wheel to someone else.

That someone was a Smith grad named Margaret Petherbrid­ge, a World secretary who had hopes of being a journalist. Like almost everyone on the staff, she was utterly uninterest­ed in the crossword and simply picked the ones that had interestin­g shapes. She never tried solving one.

However, the paper’s most popular columnist, Franklin P Adams, was an avid fan and began leaving his solved puzzles on Petherbrid­ge’s desk, with the mistakes highlighte­d. Because the grids were a pain to create, the paper’s typesetter­s did their best to kill the crossword, running the clues in ever-decreasing tiny type and omitting some altogether.

After a year, Petherbrid­ge had been shamed enough. She decided to try to solve a puzzle – and couldn’t. Rather than feel Adams’s glare, she set about organising the puzzles in her files. Within months she had devised rules for crossword creators – amazingly, a list still followed today. She simplified the numbering system, stressed the use of common English words, limited the black squares to one-sixth of the grid and, in essence, standardis­ed the crossword puzzle.

From then on, puzzles that had a high degree of craftsmans­hip were first to be chosen. The crossword finally looked like a feature that was here to stay.

Then, in 1924, two Columbia grads decided they wanted to get into publishing. Crossword puzzles were more popular than ever, yet there had never been a collection in book form. So they enlisted Petherbrid­ge and two colleagues to compile one. The Cross Word Puzzle Book sold 400 000 copies in only a few months.

Two more books followed, selling 2 million copies in two years. The two young publishers were Dick Simon and Max Schuster, and the first crossword book launched their careers.

And Petherbrid­ge’s career. With the books, crosswords became a national phenomenon. Petherbrid­ge married in 1926, becoming Margaret P Farrar, and under that name she would go on to edit the Simon & Schuster crossword series for 60 years. She called it her “inadverten­t profession”.

There was a crossword-related news story in the New York papers almost every week: a Baptist preacher constructe­d a crossword for a sermon. A man refused to leave a restaurant until he finished a crossword and had to be escorted out by police. A Cleveland woman was granted a divorce because her husband was obsessed with crosswords. A Budapest waiter explained in a crossword why he was committing suicide; police were unable to solve it.

The Broadway show Puzzles of 1925 had a skit in which crossword fans were depicted as patients in a sanitarium. Commuter trains started putting dictionari­es in every car. The Los Angeles Public Library had to enforce a limit on how long you could use the dictionary. The Chicago Department of Health declared that crossword solving was beneficial to health and happiness. And Thesaurus

‘Inventor Arthur Wynne never made a penny off the crossword puzzle. In this, the 100th anniversar­y of his invention, I hope he can settle for recognitio­n’

author Peter Roget was declared “the patron saint of crossworde­rs”.

All the while, the Times called crossword solving “a temporary madness,” serving “no useful purpose whatsoever”, and an “epidemic” that would soon be over.

In 1942 the Times finally gave in and hired Margaret P Farrar as its first crossword editor.

So whatever happened to Arthur Wynne?

As readers of The Washington Post may know, I make the crossword for the Post magazine every Sunday. I live in Tampa, Florida, but in this age of instant everything, I just attach the puzzle in an e-mail and click “send”.

Such technology has made my puzzling life much less puzzling. And it was while surfing the web in the 1990s that I found Wynne’s grainy Associated Press obit from the January 17, 1945, Toronto Daily Star. It was one paragraph.

“Clearwater, Florida. (AP) – Arthur Wynn, credited with inventing the crossword puzzle, died Sunday… Wynn was born in Liverpool, England, and came to the US 50 years ago to enter the newspaper business.”

First, I was stunned that the man who had invented a feature that was in nearly every newspaper in the world, even in 1945, was given such short shrift. Second, that they spelled his name wrong. And third, that he died in Clearwater. There I was, a lifelong puzzle guy in Tampa, reading that the man who invented the crossword puzzle had died 25 miles (40km) from where I was sitting.

Or, standing, since I had bolted out of the chair. I asked an editor friend at the St Petersburg Times (now the Tampa Bay Times) to check its archives for articles. There were precious few, with nothing new.

I did know what most of us in the crossword world knew. Excellent books have been written about the crossword’s early days. I knew that when Wynne was a boy he loved word games and the violin.

He wanted to be a newspaperm­an, but his father, a newspaperm­an himself, forbade it.

At 19, Arthur packed one bag and his violin and sailed to the US. (Strangely, this mirrors my own life: at 20 I was a puzzle fan, played the organ and piano, and worked as a newspaper copy editor.)

Wynne found a newspaper job in Pittsburgh and played the violin in orchestras. Then he got the job at the World. He moved to Cedar Grove, New Jersey, and commuted every day. After inventing the crossword he became a frequent customer at New York’s famous Palm restaurant, where a wall caricature of him remains to this day. He worked for the Hearst papers in the 1930s. In 1941 he moved to Clearwater for health reasons and died four years later.

And that became the puzzle with no answer: where was he buried? Somewhere in Tampa Bay? If so, is there a gravestone? Or was he transporte­d to a family plot in Liverpool? Fifteen years later I still had no answer.

The break came in July this year. While surfing the web my wife, Marie, found the home-town obit of Wynne’s oldest daughter, Janet. It mentioned that there was another daughter living in Clearwater. Wynne had married a third time to a much younger woman and had fathered a child at 62. That daughter’s name was Catherine Wynne – they called her Kay – and she was 11 when her father died.

Her married name was Kay Wynne Cutler. She had turned 80 in April and was living in Clearwater. It took Marie only minutes to find her number and call. A bright-sounding woman answered. The conversati­on lasted 15 minutes. We tried not to show that we were giddy as kids in an ice-cream parlour. We agreed to meet.

Kay walks with a cane but is sharp. She laughs easily. She brought articles about her father. As far as she knows she is the only one in the family who is a crossword fan.

She had the answer to my “grave” question. There was no burial site because there was no burial. Her father had been cremated. Kay says she was too young to know, but she thinks his ashes were scattered in the Gulf of Mexico. At the time, she was a student at Anona Elementary, a happy accident for the daughter of a puzzle creator – the name of the school is a palindrome.

Kay said her father used to say that he never made a penny off the crossword puzzle. In this, the 100th anniversar­y of his invention, I hope he can settle for recognitio­n. – Washington Post HJ LOMBARD Commercial Features writer SPARKLE Products was establishe­d in 1973 and, from early on, the company realised that there was a demand for its products from household buyers. So Sparkle Products took the innovative step of opening the first factory shop in the detergent industry, selling directly to the public at factory shop prices. A large variety of people come from all over the Western Cape to make significan­t savings by buying their household cleaning products directly from Sparkle Products.

In 1979, the company moved into its premises at 10 Marine Drive, Paarden Island, which it occupies to this day. Anyone can buy their cleaning supplies directly from Sparkle Products and make a saving. This pioneering step has stood it in good stead and the company has flourished because it produces a quality product, which it offers at attractive prices. The shop has grown into the biggest detergent factory shop in the Western Cape.

So the company also offers an entreprene­urial opportunit­y to trade directly through the buying and selling of cleaning products to neighbours and friends.

Every month, t housands of small business owners buy from the factory shop with the express purpose of reselling.

Spar k l e Pr o d u c t s ’ uncompromi­sing adherence to quality is what has ensured the viability of the company over 40 years. So confident is Sparkle Products of its quality that it offers buyers the option of returning a product if they are not happy it. Sparkle Products’ factory shop will gladly allow customers to swap the products for other products of similar value or receive their cash back.

This commitment to quality is confirmed by the company’s ISO 9001 cert i f i cation and al s o by SABS-approved products. Sparkle Products has an onsite laboratory that continuall­y monitors the quality and consistenc­y of its products.

Indeed, due to its reputation for consistent quality, it is regarded as one of the best, most establishe­d contract-packers in the detergent industry in the Western Cape. Systems have been finely honed over the past 40 years to meet your needs quickly and courteousl­y. It is, for instance, possible to place orders via phone, email, fax or SMS.

Sparkle Products also delivers within the metropolit­an area at a minimum delivery charge. The cost of deliveries to places further afield can be negotiated. Customers are encouraged to arrange the transport that best suits their needs and take delivery directly from the factory shop.

The factory shop stocks a range of reasonably priced quality cleaning accessorie­s, such as toilet paper, brooms and mops.

Sparkle Products values its staff and takes great care to ensure the safety and wellbeing of its workforce. The company is proudly BEE compliant.

The factory shop is open six days a week, Monday to Thursday, from 8am to 4.45pm; Friday from 8am until 4pm, and on Saturday from 8.30am to noon.

For a detailed indication of the products on offer, see www.sparkle.co.za. Call Sparkle Products on 021 511 1287 or send an email to vl@sparkle.co.za.

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PICTURE: SHUTTERSTO­CK POPULAR: The early popularity of the crossword was labelled an ‘epidemic’ that would ‘soon be over’.
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