S. C. JOHNSON -- PAUPER IN PROBATE

Dear Reader:

I have been getting back up to speed here at milwaukeeworld, where I have been posting my own stuff and getting into it. A few of you poor souls who use Microsoft Internet Explorer have complained that my copy has come out oddly, and thanks to a little tinkering by Joe Klein, I think we have that problem taken care of. [Mozilla Firefox doesn’t seem to have these problems. End of geek talk.]

The Marsupial Bridge is taking forever, and now the contractors tell us that it won’t be until November that we can do a proper ribbon cutting. November is a rather predictable month for weather, so if you plan to be there dress accordingly. We will have a small event then, and then really have a big party in spring.

If you read on, you will note that S. C. Johnson, the state’s richest man was able to cheat the probate court. Legally, of course. And, you will find out what happened to one of Milwaukee’s few exclusive stores.

Also, our Madison correspondent, Paul Snyder, writes in on Milwaukee's poor standing in vexillological circles, and Capitol City's superiority therein.

I would love to hear from you. My telephone is 1 414 978-8039 and my email is horne@milwaukeeworld.com Plus, you can always post a comment at the end of the website here. Stay in touch!

Oh, and another thing – I will be in Washington, D.C. from October 6 to October 11^th to see old friends, check out my favorite museums and attend my uncle’s annual Oktoberfest in rural Maryland. I will also be able to check up on my young relative ­­­­­­XXXXX who has just graduated from XXXXX. University. His summa cum laude diploma in XXXXX along with his expertise in languages, including Arabic, will serve him well as he begins his career with the _._._.

I should still have plenty of time to march around the Nation’s Capitol, and if there is anything you would like me to look up there, tell me before I leave.

Best wishes,

Michael Horne

Editor / Publisher

Milwaukeeworld.com

S. C. JOHNSON : PAUPER IN PROBATE

For a guy who owned a worldwide “family company,” was a regular on Forbes’ list of wealthiest Americans and whose personal representative in his will was an eponymous bank that he also owned, it appears that Samuel Curtis Johnson of Racine, Wisconsin died penniless.

According to Carol Mills, the Register in Probate for Racine County, the filing fee for Johnson’s will was $20.

“Apparently he had no assets in his own name. They filed an inventory and paid the minimum fee,” she said. Johnson died on May 5, 2004 and an application for informal probate was submitted to the court on June 6, 2004, along with an “instrument purporting to be the last will and testament dated May 22, 2003.” On May 3, 2005 the inventory was “exhibited” and the $20 filing fee was paid.

You or I could die leaving behind only a pair of old boots, and you can bet the Register in Probate would get more than twenty bucks out of us.

Do keep this case in mind the next time President Bush reminds us of the horrors of the “Death Tax.”

Maybe our legislators could get down to business and see that dead deadbeat billionaires pay their fair share of probate filings, just like regular folks do.

Here is the link: http://wcca.wicourts.gov/caseDetails.do;jsessionid=14E7E86BF203E7547DC2864D67662065.render2?caseNo=2004PR000186&countyNo=51&cacheId=C6834D5F60E1FAF37520DCDCF1DC5F70&recordCount=11&offset=2

ZITA SHUTS DOWN ON EAST SIDE

Milwaukee’s East Side for years had two iconic stores. The first was George Watts & Son, still in business. The second was Zita of Milwaukee Women’s Apparel, located in the historic James S. Brown double house at 1122-1124 N. Astor St. Alas, the little pink envelopes with the big bills inside will no longer emanate from that address to Milwaukee’s finest and best-dressed families. All operations have been consolidated at the firm’s Whitefish Bay location, commonly known as Peg Bradley, after its founder. When Peg died, Zita was continued by her daughter, Jane Bradley Pettit until her death on September 9, 2001, and the handsome mansion, sensitively remodeled by Jane’s son David Vogel Uihlein, Jr. saw a discreet march of commerce through its commodious doors. You could walk in there looking like a bum [no you couldn’t: they wouldn’t let you in.] Well, anyway, when you’d walk out you would be dressed like Madeleine Albright.

According to the folks at the Whitefish Bay store, the Astor Street building will remain in the family’s hands, and I reckon it would make a nice headquarters for one or more of the family’s foundations.

The building is assessed at $201,500 for the land and $593,500 for the improvements for a total of $795,000. The taxes are paid up-to-date.

A hearing was held September 19^th before the Historic Preservation Commission to give the building temporary historic status, which it deserves. According to Andrea Rowe of the Department of City Development, interim status was granted with one member, Sandra McSweeney abstaining.

FROM BREW CITY TO CAPITAL CITY
(OR, AT LEAST I’M NO LONGER LIVING UNDER THE FOURTH UGLIEST FLAG IN THE NATION)

By Paul Snyder

Perhaps it’s no coincidence that shortly after MilwaukeeWorld.com returns to the netwaves, the North American Vexillological Association releases their poll of 150 American City Flags, from sharpest to not-so-impressive-at-all.

For those of you unfamiliar with NAVA (you should first be ashamed with yourselves), this particular association devotes its time to the scientific study of flag history and symbolism. They’ve recently published a book, American City Flags: From Akron to Yonkers (which has, surprisingly, not dented The New York Times Bestsellers List… yet), and to celebrate the release, flag enthusiasts could log on to the association’s website, www.nava.org, to cast their vote on which American cities raised the best flags.

As a native of Chicago, I was really not so surprised to see the old city’s flag rise to the number two spot in the poll; Chicago is the only city I’ve ever lived in that actually celebrated the fact that a city could have a flag. The Chicago Police wear a patch of the flag on their jackets, and paint up their cars to resemble the flag on wheels. And though I have no idea what the four red stars and two blue stripes represent, the icon is as familiar to me as yet another futile Cubs season.

What did surprise me about the poll was my new hometown, Madison, waving in at # 11. Not bad at all, and though I’d never seen the flag prior to this poll, it actually is quite a sharp little piece (certainly nicer than Corpus Christi’s, which just nudged us out of the Top Ten, I’m sure, as a sympathy vote). For the past three months (and the past couple weeks in particular), I thought our flag simply consisted of a big red W – there’s certainly a lot more of those flying around.

And then there’s my old stomping grounds, Milwaukee, limping in at a lowly # 147. What the hell, guys? Perhaps if it had featured a giant stein or wooden barrel, results may have fared better, but the fact that not a single attribute to beer is made probably hurt its standing. I mean, Lubbock’s flag makes this big claim about being the “music crossroads of Texas,” and Buddy Holly’s the only guy to leave that town and make a name for himself. Use what you got!

But to add insult to injury Mesa, AZ and Provo, UT tallied higher marks than Milwaukee. This wouldn’t be so bad if Mesa’s didn’t look like a customer service business card and Provo’s didn’t look like the most rudimentary attempt at utilizing Microsoft WordArt. I was the editor-in-chief of my high school yearbook, and I put together something that looks a hell of a lot better than what the city of Provo raises over its mountain town each day.

But I’m not living in Mesa or Provo… I’m just enjoying the advent of the fall season and the changing colors of one of the nicest flags in the country. Oh, sure, gas prices may be through the roof and the longstanding effects of two hurricanes in a matter of weeks may wreak havoc on Wisconsin for months to come… but look at it! Just makes you proud to be a Madisonian, doesn’t it?

Oh, cheer up, Milwaukee. Look at it this way – at least you’re not Pocatello, Idaho.