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Rainy Day Writers, Cambridge, OH (2026)

08/06/2026

Rick Booth explores the history of the Guernsey County Fair in August's Crossroads magazine. If you enjoy the fair, don't miss reading this article! Some things might surprise you.

07/31/2026

Betsy Taylor tells the interesting story of how Zane Grey's wife, Dolly, was a major factor in the success of Zane's books. Read how she helped him along the way. Find more Rainy Day Writers' stories on Your Radio Place and in Guernsey News.

Dolly Grey by Betsy Taylor

You know about Zane Grey, the famous western romance author from his prolific writing career. But do you know about Lina Elise Roth Grey, the woman who made that career possible? Lina, called Dolly by her family and friends, was Zane’s champion as a wife, editor, advisor, emotional support system, and business manager.

In 1900, seventeen-year-old Dolly Roth met twenty-eight-year-old Pearl Zane Grey on the banks of the Delaware River. Dolly, her mother and two girlfriends, and Zane and his brother Romer were all enjoying an escape from the heat and noise of New York City.

Although Zane and Dolly were very different temperamentally, they were attracted to each other. Dolly had graduated Hunter College where she studied English Literature and was finishing her last semester at Columbia University with the hope of becoming a teacher. Zane had not graduated high school and had barely graduated the University of Pennsylvania with a dentistry degree.

Dolly was ambitious, intelligent, and possessed of a serene nature. She loved great literature and the music of great composers. Zane’s rough background didn’t include any of those refinements and he admitted as much. He was restless with bouts of intense focus followed by what he called “black moods.” Dolly was certain she could overlook or deal with that side of his nature. She was even certain she could tame his need for affirmation and adulation from other women. She was wrong.

The couple married in November 1905 and, almost immediately, Zane began writing and handing Dolly drafts of chapters of his novel, The Last Trail. Diligently she corrected grammar and punctuation, smoothed out awkward sentences and paragraphs, offered suggestions, and eventually copied the entire manuscript in her flowing script. Except for Dolly’s use of the typewriter in later years, this would be the pattern for their working partnership for the rest of Zane’s life.

In addition to editing, Dolly became Zane’s sales representative and public relations agent. Dolly genuinely believed in Zane’s destiny for greatness. While publishers agreed that Zane was a competent writer who sold entertaining fiction, Dolly was convinced that he was a genius.

When the children were born, Dolly doubled down on keeping Zane’s home fires burning. He insisted on taking safaris, hunting and fishing trips to gather material for his books. Most of those trips were taken without Dolly but with a secretary, stenographer, photographer, or typist. Dolly was expected to lend legitimacy to Zane’s affairs by appearing in public with Zane and his female associates.

As much as Zane’s philandering hurt Dolly, she settled into acceptance. Leaving was not an option. Divorce carried a great stigma during those days, and Dolly had three children to consider. By that point, her financial future was tied completely to Zane’s. Having become her husband’s finance manager, she was tasked with ensuring Zane didn’t deplete their income faster than she could secure it with book sales.

The depression hit the couple hard, and Dolly had to become creative to manage their money. She renegotiated terms with their usual publishers and courted new outlets. She became a bank president, invested what little money they had left, formed a corporation, and opened channels with the IRS to keep the corporation from filing for bankruptcy. All the while Zane pressured Dolly to send him “operating” money to fund travels he insisted were legitimate business ventures.

Dolly kept the Grey family afloat even as she endured financial onslaughts and health issues including a hysterectomy. She felt that, as a partner in the family corporation, she was duty-bound to soldier on.

Following Zane’s death, Dolly continued to supervise the family finances. Movies were still being made from Zane’s novels and several heretofore unpublished books were doled into the marked. The children were included in the business with each taking a business role and receiving a share of the stock.

Dolly traveled to Europe when she was able. But as she aged, her health deteriorated. She developed diabetes in the 1940s then endured a series of small strokes. In 1957, a massive stroke led to her death.

She was cremated and her ashes, along with Zane’s, are buried in Lackawaxen, Pennsylvania where they started their married life.

07/24/2026

Mark Cooper tells about keeping a diary. If you have ever kept a diary, you will enjoy reading about the things he and his mom recorded in their diaries. Read more Rainy Day Writer stories on Your Radio Place and in Guernsey News.

Worth Noting by Mark Cooper

The first page of my childhood Index-Cards-On-A-Wire diary reads, “Today was my birthday. I got a shirt, this book. Mother gave me all this.” What I found worth noting as a 10-year-old stirs memories, just as any diary should.

A June note reads, “Tonight we went to see about strawberries at Henry Millers [an Amish neighbor]. Henry saw our tire was flat.”

Did Henry chuckle watching my dad wrestle with the flat, gloating to himself, “My buggy tires never go flat.” Did dad, wrestling with the tire and jack, remind himself, “I’d rather change an occasional tire than rely on a horse and buggy?”

Later that summer I confided, “I HAD to bale hay.” The capitalized “HAD” speaks volumes about my feelings towards fieldwork.

One entry leaves me with questions, “Last night [my brother] changed his set.” I’m clueless as to what that meant. Details do matter.

In early August of that year, I shared my most important news so far, “[My sister-in-law] had a baby girl at 2:30. Thay [sic] named her.”

Why didn’t I include her name? Did I not know how to spell it? Did I get called to supper before having time to write down her name? Or was I attempting to write a cliffhanger?

For many years, Mom used the kitchen wall calendar to keep her own notes, opening a glimpse into her busy life.

From a 1960s calendar I learned that, on March 28th of that year, she planted an annual favorite, snapdragons. A flower that happens to be growing in my own garden this year.

On a day in May she had written “sheep-shearing.” Mystifying, considering our family didn’t raise sheep.

A Monday reminder was for a 1:30 PM perm appointment. (This was before her first grandchild was born, and Mom declared it was time to wear her hair in a bun so she would look more like a grandma. No more hairdresser appointments.)

I saw that during this particular year she had several doctor appointments for herself, especially during the first few months.

Later, every few days, Mom started writing down measurements, “12¾,” “13,” “13½.” What was she measuring? Field crops? Her snapdragons? Then I found “26 ½ inches, 17 lbs.”

Dots connected in my mind, since this calendar was from my birth year (I forgot to mention that detail, didn’t I?). These numbers were tracking my own growth. Eagerly I flipped back to my birth month, what would be written there?

Absolutely nothing.

Mom had recorded the birthdays of 22 other people throughout that year, but nothing for the day I was born. What was up with that!?

Regardless of the reason, she never failed to observe my birthday in the years that followed. And 10 years later, she gave me my Index-Cards-On-A-Wire diary where I wrote about my niece’s birth.

And now, since you’re doubtlessly wondering about my niece’s name, it’s … um… ah…. Yeah, let me get back to you.

07/21/2026

I'm discovering that it is important to take time to relax. Maybe it's something you only get a chance to do when you get older! Read more Rainy Day Writers stories on Your Radio Place and in Guernsey News.

Take Time to Relax by Beverly Kerr

Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes- including you.
~Anne Lamott

Finding time to relax is often difficult in the busy world we live in. Think about it! How often do you just sit back (without your phone or television) and just do nothing? For me, that is a very difficult thing to do and when I look at the world running full speed ahead all around me, it appears that others have this problem as well. So, what are some possibilities for unplugging?

Find a quiet place where you can shut out the news and your problems for just a few minutes. This might be a walk on a quiet path through the woods or a drive on backroads in the country. Enjoy the nature surrounding you. The gypsy in me enjoys a drive to the lake. Ah! Even the thought of it relaxes my mind.

If you enjoy music, pick some of your favorite soothing sounds and sit back and listen. Perhaps you’ll choose to sit in a simple place like on your porch or in your favorite chair. Just free your mind of all your cares and listen to the music and unplug from the world for a few minutes. Or maybe you prefer to sit by the water and let the world drift by.

Some might enjoy sipping on their favorite drink and let relaxation flow through their body. A glass of iced tea or coffee are great drinks to sip your problems away. Some might like to share a cup of tea with a friend, but I think relaxation is best done when you are alone and free from trying to engage in conversation with someone else.

Since this is a personal problem, I am attempting to learn how to relax. When you have lived most of your life on the farm, there was never really time to sit on the porch and do nothing. Right now, I’m practicing sitting on my patio each evening surrounded by my flowers. My goal is to sit there for at least ten minutes and fill my mind with peaceful thoughts or no thoughts at all. It’s very difficult when you’re used to being busy with something all the time. One night, however, twenty minutes passed by while I was watching the clouds move across the sky.

Unplug for a few minutes sometime soon! Relaxation is good for the mind, body, and soul.

07/17/2026

John Anderson tells how a discovery in a son's closet made a change in someone's life. Read more Rainy Day Writers stories on Your Radio Place and in Guernsey News.

The Closet by John Anderson

James, their son, had a secret life of volunteering, helping children of homeless people when they came to the Salvation Army.

Father had said, “Absolutely no. NO!”

He had no compassion for homeless people. “I worked six days a week so we can have this nice home, warm clothes in the winter, and food on the table.” Father had hit his stride. “So, there they go with their shopping carts on their way to another handout.”

Mother interjected. “Now, Bill, don’t get your blood pressure up.”

Father was not mollified. “Gloria, I get it. Some people have to ride the wagon, while I’m the one pulling it! But they shouldn’t have more than we have!”

James had heard it all before. He quietly left the room.

Now 10 years later:

James had grown up, married, and moved to another state to persue his career. Bill and Gloria had decided to renovate Jame’s old room. The closet was to be enlarged to make a writing nook for Gloria.

When they took down the poster of Terry Bradshaw, Pittsburgh Steelers quarterback, the couple found shelves containing expired energy bars and books – lots of books. They also found a journal labeled Salvation Army. In the journal James had written about the boys and girls he had helped with their reading.

The last page said, “They thought I was helping them. But they were the ones helping me. I wish my dad could see these children through my eyes.”

Two days later, Bill and Gloria went to the Salvation Army. They weren’t sure what they would do. However, they knew they had to help.

07/15/2026

Claire Cameron writes about how some things just seem to disappear mysteriously. Read about some of those times that we still remember. Find more Rainy Day Writer stories on Your Radio Place and in Guernsey News.

Gone But Not Forgotten by Claire Cameron

You probably remember and sometimes reminisce about silly little sayings you and your friends would utter when you were out having fun. One I thought exceptionally witty came to mind recently. After listening to a buddy ramble on until it became annoying, another friend might say, “Why don’t you do that trick for us?”

The talkative kid would then ask, “What trick?”

In return we’d holler, “Open up your mouth and disappear!” Peals of laughter would follow until everyone except the recipient would be rolling in the grass snorting to the point of tears.

When this amusing memory came to my mind the other day, I suddenly thought about instances where people or objects actually did seem to disappear without reason, such as:

Brenda Heist (2002): A mother from Pennsylvania disappeared without warning, abandoning her husband and two children. While many feared she was murdered—and she was eventually declared legally dead—Heist turned herself in to authorities in Key Largo, Florida, in 2013. She revealed that she had walked out on her life to live as a transient, often sleeping in tents and scavenging for food.
Steven Kubacki (1978): A college student vanished during a solo cross-country skiing trip near Lake Michigan. His belongings and a one-way trail of footprints were found in the snow, leading authorities to assume he had fallen into the freezing water. Fifteen months later, he reappeared on his parents’ doorstep initially claiming he had no memory of the lost time. He later detailed his experience in a memoir.
Elizabeth Smart (2002): One of the most prominent abduction cases in modern history occurred when a 14-year-old girl was taken from her bedroom in Salt Lake City, Utah. She was held captive and subjected to horrific abuse for nine years before she was recognized and rescued in 2003.
And then there are stories of the disappearances of ships carrying passengers and crew that were even more mysterious than those involving only humans.

The Merchant Royal, an English vessel that sank in 1641, off Land’s End in Cornwall, England, was a trade ship carrying a cargo of gold and silver believed to be worth millions in today’s money. Amateur treasure hunters and marine archeologists looked for it without success. A search operation by Odyssey Marine Exploration in 2007, uncovered a wreckage, but coins from the site suggested they’d discovered a Spanish frigate rather than the much-prized Merchant Royal. In 2019 the ship’s anchor was retrieved from the waters off Cornwall, but the ship itself has yet to be located.

The Mary Celeste is known as the greatest maritime mystery of all time. She didn’t disappear, but her crew and passengers did. She was declared a ‘ghost’ ship spotted by a Canadian brigantine on December 4, 1872, unmanned, sailing off the Azores in seaworthy condition. It was determined she’d already been sailing for a month with over six months of food and water still on board. Her cargo was virtually untouched. and the personal belongings of crew and passengers, including valuables, were still there. Theories suggest that the crew died after embarking in a lifeboat. They might have feared that the ship’s cargo was about to explode since they were transporting barrels of alcohol.

In 1942, U.S. Navy blimp L-8 returned from patrol without anyone aboard. The crew had vanished. The “ghost blimp” was found to be in total working order and none of the parachutes or life rafts had been taken. The fate of the crew remains a mystery.

Many believe that thousands, possibly tens of thousands of ships remain unaccounted for although technological advancements and archeological techniques have led to the discovery of several historically significant shipwrecks.

07/11/2026

John Anderson tells about how some young girls figured out a way to correct their error. You'll have to pick up a July Crossroads magazine ...for the rest of the story!

07/09/2026

Martha Jamail reminisces about listening to summer sounds with her brother long ago. Read about the red-winged blackbird they discovered. Find more Rainy Day Writers stories on Your Radio Place and in Guernsey News.

A Summer Evening Birdwatch by Martha Jamail

It was a pleasant summer evening as my brother and I sat on the front porch swing listening to the sounds of nature around us. As dusk approached, the rise and fall of the crickets’ hum grew louder. It was a soothing sound, but we both knew that crickets heralded the end of summer, and the start of the school year. Neither of us was ready yet. Suddenly, we heard the unique call of the red-winged blackbird. I had never seen the bird, but my brother said he knew just where it might be. There was a marshy pond behind our neighbor’s house at the end of the block, and my brother jumped off the swing and yelled for me to follow him. He ran so fast I could hardly keep up with him.

When we reached the marsh, my brother shushed me, and we crept quietly to the tall grasses. Lily pads floated languidly over the water, while the tall marsh grasses reflected mirror-like in the pond. My brother tapped my shoulder and pointed to the female black-bird perched on a folded stalk of grass. She was studiously looking up at something. We looked in that direction, and that’s when we saw the blackbird with the beautiful red and yellow badge on its wing. Soon it called again, a unique and beautiful sound, and the female bird flew off with the red-winged male following her. Soon it would be nesting season. My brother said we would come back again to look at their nest eggs. Their eggs, he said, were very colorful – much like decorated Easter eggs. I could hardly wait to see them and hear the beautiful bird call again. Summer is filled with so many special moments… especially when they begin from a comfortable porch swing.

07/07/2026

Rick Booth tells the story of story of Pennyroyal - the herb, reunion, and today's Pennyroyal Opera House. Find the whole story in July's Crossroads magazine.

07/02/2026

Betsy Taylor explores the history of the cash register from its beginning until how she experiences it today. Read more Rainy Day Writer stories on Your Radio Place and in Guernsey News.

An Honest Cashier by Betsy Taylor

During our open season (May 1 – Oct 31), I work at the National Road/Zane Grey Museum, where I cashier two days a week. Before working there, I’d never even stood on the sales side of the cash register. Although I was intimately acquainted with the workings of a calculator through the process of figuring student grades, a machine that managed money was a mystery to me. I hoped that the cash register was smarter than I am.

A cash register is a machine. If it’s in working order, only the law of GIGO (garbage in, garbage out) applies. Today’s cash registers do most of the work. If you press the right keys, the buyer and cashier can both see the amount of purchase, the amount tendered, and the assigned amount of sales tax on a small screen. Then it spits out the items’ total cost. The customer hands over money and the register reveals the amount of change. Finally, the only thing the cashier must do is count the correct change. Simple. No questions.

At the end of the day, the cash register even reveals how much money was collected and the amount of sales tax paid. Again, the only thing the cashier must do is count the money in the register and be certain that amount balances with the machine’s total. The whole process makes selling and rendering money to the employer transparent.

But imagine a time during the 1870s before the invention of the keep-you-honest computer on the counter when clerks and bartenders could easily withdraw handfuls of currency from cash drawers. Even if they kept a running paper tally of money transacted, the amounts could be falsified, and nobody could prove maleficence. Suspicion aside, many business owners had given up keeping track of what their businesses earned.

One business owner, James Ritty, who owed the Empire Saloon in Dayton, realized that that he was being swindled by his sales staff. His saloon boasted a huge number of daily customers, but the revenue didn’t support the income he should have realized. Ritty was aware of machines that could count regular occurrences like the number of revolutions of a wheel. He had an idea that a machine could be constructed to count the number of money transactions during a day. So, he turned to his brother, John who was a mechanic. The two went through a series of experiments until they applied for and received a patent in 1879. The road to a workable product was long with so many trials and bumps that the brothers could easily have given up. But in 1880 they had developed a working cash register and decided to manufacture the machine full-time. They set up a factory above the saloon and managed both businesses for a time until they realized that juggling both concerns was impossible. In 1881, they sold the cash register factory to an investment group. The group improved the register’s mechanism and developed it until it approximated the device with which we are familiar today. Along the way the investment group evolved into today’s National Cash Register Company.

Over time, cash registers became ornate. Etched tiers including drawers and window frames that display merchandise costs, amounts tendered, and amounts of change became works of art. Manufacturers outdid each other as they varied sizes along with sophisticated carvings ranging from Romanesque to Art Deco.

While cash registers are currently found in nearly every business establishment, credit card machines as small as a smart phone equipped with a card reader can replace them. Small business owners who accept only credit/debit cards swipe the card through a reader and immediately email a reciept to the customer’s phone. The transaction is completed with no need to physically transfer money. Future generations may see cash registers become as obsolete as the abacus. Then the only way to see these marvelous machines will be to visit them in a museum like Dayton’s History Carillon Historical Park.

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