Oz Revisited

By Brian S. Clary

Rueben Morgan works for a newspaper company. He and his deceased father each had a fascination with the Wizard of Oz and his dad always thought that there was a way to get to Oz after having seen the original film in the 1930s with his late wife. Rueben decides to walk in his dad’s footsteps and take on his quest. Determined to carry on that quest, Rueben sets forth on the adventure to Oz.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 5, 2024
• ISBN: 9781663260093

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Copyright © 2024 Brian S. Clary.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-6632-5996-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-6009-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2024901878

iUniverse rev. date:  01/23/2024

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

You have plenty of courage, answered Oz. All you need is confidence in yourself. There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is in facing danger when you are afraid, and that kind of courage you have plenty.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum.

My name is Ruben Morgan and this is my story, but to understand what I did, and why I did it requires some background in order to provide the proper context if you will indulge me.

You see, the Wizard Oz is not just any run of the mill topic to me, and I followed my own father’s example in carrying on his lifelong fascination with both the original book, and the classic film,

Long before I was born, my folks actually viewed the original nineteen thirty-nine release of the movie at the Palace Theater in our hometown of Topeka Kansas.

Though my mother claimed anappreciation for the movie it disturb her, so much so that she never watched in its entirety again ever again, but as for my dad, he was hooked, and I carried on that legacy.

From the first time I recall viewing the movie I was utterly infatuated, and it spoke to me in ways that no other film, has done before it or since.

My strikingly vivid memories stemmed from a Thanksgiving Day tradition that was as customary to me as the cornbread-stuffing, roast turkey yams, homemade pies, the obligatory green bean casserole, and it was as reliable to be aired on our zenith console television as the parades and college football.

When I would notice the ads promoting the film that on one of the three networks that we were blessed with at that time and I would experience a sense of exhilaration, and had competing feelings of dread for what was coming that afternoon.

Though the story was magical and fun, it was simultaneously frightening, and foreboding and I empathized with my moms, sentiments somewhat, but that did little to diminish my willingness to watch it from start tithe finish, though some scenes were viewed through my fingers covering my anxious eyes.

Nevertheless, the film appealed to my imagination, but the scary scenes were an integral part of the overall experience including the conflict with the bicycle riding crone Gulch, the hired hands, and Dorothy’s departure as a runaway and the emerging twister winding along the otherwise bucolic countryside.

As a native Kansan, and having, grown up in a rural farming community my family and our neighbors had witnessed a fair share of tornadoes over the years, and that experience only served to heightened my fascination of these most destructive storms.

Accordingly, I completed college with a Bachelor’s of Science in agriculture with a minor in meteorology and I was heading straight to vet school, until I changed my mind and opted instead to follow my dad’s path, and became a reporter for The Capitol-Journal, I’m a but, even as a cub. Reporter I remained fascinated with the story of Oz, and I often wondered if there could, indeed, be such a land over the. Rainbow.

The news business can be difficult, and challenging, but occasionally one may earn an interesting assignment from the management, and according to my dearly departed mother she confided that my dad’s editor once did just that for him.

Knowing well my father’s own deep interest in the subject, and his goal of actually traveling to Oz someday, he was assigned my dad to interview the real Dorothy in person while she was on tour, which included a mid-west stop.

She was scheduled to play at a back street dive on the east side of Topeka and my dad did the interview, but unfortunately, he fell ill very suddenly and joined my mother in heaven before the piece it was finished.

Though he completed the interview it was never edited, and published, but lucky for me I inherited his notes from his date with destiny and I will treat you to excerpts from his actual report from 1962.

I caught up with her between sets in the lounge and she was already more than tipsy and by this time in her career, she was haggard had-been a lounge singer traveling from town to town performing in small venues such as night clubs, low rent casinos, and dark smoke-filled lounges singing or sometimes slurring Over the Rainbow and a handful of other popular ditties from her lengthy show business career, but after all I was grateful to see her in person, that was good enough for me.

Considering my fascination with The wizard of Oz I took the opportunity to quiz her about the experience of filming the movie, and she then, told me all about it, and in detail, and probably too much detail as it turned out.

Relying solely on her suspect recollections from the late nineteen thirties, she relives it as if she had actually traveled to Oz to shoot the picture opposed to working on a Hollywood sound stage, and I found that fascinating in and of itself.

She particularly focused on the Munchkins, which she referred to, and I quote the Naughty little bastards.

According to her what the Munchkins lacked in stature they made up in libido and what they didn’t try to kiss, they pinched, and she seemed awfully bitter about the whole experience.

There is one thing I know for certain that I took from the interview, and it she wholeheartedly believed that it was she had made it to Oz and back and I for one believed her an and she gave to me a to me black a white photo.

Well, there you have it folks straight from the source and just, know I have that photo, and I treasure it and take it everywhere and I treasure my photograph and often I wonder if there’s a could get a chance to investigate the prospect the Oz and often wonder if I could investigate the likelihood of going to Oz in honor of my dad on his behalf since as she did have on Oz what it, but with the rigors of his job including the family, the but with his responsibility and deadlines and travel he never found the spare time and he took that regret to his grave.

Now that you have heard the back-story you can see why I had to do something about it. Not wanting to carry a similar burden of my own regrets, and once I had established myself as a top tier reporter for the paper, I decided to act, and explore the feasibility of reaching that land over the rainbow, and as a single man I had the time to devote to it, outside of working hours, of course.

The first thing I had to do to get my project off the ground no pun intended, to investigate to and see if the concept of traveling to a place like Oz was viable.

Accordingly, I consulted a couple of my old college science professors, one astronomer, and the other a physicist, and they graciously agreed to meet with me at the university on a Saturday afternoon.

When I arrived, and after thanking them for their time, I laid out the fundamentals of my objective. Once done these two eccentric, but highly talented Ph.D.’s stared at me for an uncomfortable period of time, and then both said, simultaneously, "Very interesting."

They next rose from the conference, table and commenced drawing. and scribbling on the chalk board and, mumbling things about Einstein, and spewing terminology that meant nothing to me, and thereafter the two scientists engaged in a debate with topics including the theory of relativity, solar eclipses, worm holes and black holes, and it’s if they were speaking a foreign language to me.

I was dumbfounded by it all, but when the conversation concluded there emerged a consensus between them that my quest was feasible. And that was what I wanted to hear, but they had no advice on how to implement it and that burden was on me.

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I knew of only one proven route to Oz and that was via tornado, and since I am a native Kansan, the state most likely encounter a tornado I was in the right spot to precede, and I opted to present my proposal as a writing project for the newspaper.

I pitched the concept to my boss with a storm chaser story angle, which were always popular topics with the readership. If approved, it would add legitimacy to the endeavor, and allow me to follow my dad’s dreams, get and get out of the office for a while, and to have an expense account to boot.

My request went up the chain of command, and lo and behold the editorial board approved it, and I began preparing for my adventure by researching the local storm chasers to consult, with and with that due diligence, I isolated three to interview over the phone.

The characteristics they shared in common was their unconditional zeal for the avocation, and vast, and a keen knowledge of the science. You’ve all seen the prototype, the longhaired trust fund kids speeding around the backroads in vans with all manner of equipment installed inside and out.

Modern day vagabonds on an unending quest for dark swirling clouds, and ever vigilant of the latest weather bulletins.

When it was all said and done, I ended up choosing one of the most active, and experienced teams in the area and they happened to be located right in my own backyard in Topeka.

I phoned the group and informed them of my decision, and asked if I could join up with them, and report from the road. With hopes of earning national publicity, and a future documentary they eagerly granted my request and they invited me to tag along on their next scheduled chase.

When the day came, I pledged to meet up with them one evening at a Best Western in Wichita. Wanting to travel light I left my pickup truck in my designated slot in the office-parking garage. From there I took a taxi to the hotel, and showed up with only a suitcase, and my bicycle and my white sneakers.

I figured that having the bike would provide some mobility during down times, and some much-needed exercise to offset the inevitable fat and calories from eating on the road.

When the taxi pulled to a stop in front the hotel, I saw three brown vans parked side-by-side and knew that they must belong to the chasers. I paid the driver and removed my bike from the bracket on the back of the cab, and chained it to a bike rack situated near entrance to the hotel. And I pulled my notes from my pocket, and read them over in order to recall those in charge and one was named Ray, another was Jack, and the ringleader of the bunch was a guy named Burt.

I entered the hotel and scanned the area, and made eye contact with a scruffy dude with a pierced ring in his nose, and atop his head sat a silver shiny hat.

Say, are you all a part the storm chaser team? I asked.

"Yes sir we are, and my name is Jack and this tawny haired fellow daredevil next to me is Ray.

I’m glad to meet you fellas, I said.

You must be the reporter that wants to risk your neck by driving with us, Ray, asked.

"That’s me, and I’m supposed to ask for a fellow named Burt."

He’s with the others in the dining area so, follow me and I’ll show you the way, Ray said, and he led me out of the lobby area, and into a room featuring long wooden tables and tall stools, and he then made the introductions including their leader Burt that had chapped windblown cheeks and long flowing golden curly hair that descended nearly to his belt line, and he graciously welcomed me to the team.

He the next introduced me to the rest of the squad, which was comprised of all men of varying ages except for one very attractive young woman that was dressed in all black from head to toe.

Predictably, there were plenty of odd balls among the group including members with multiple tattoos, ponytails, and spiked hair in a variety of colors, but they could not have been kinder and welcoming to me.

We then convened a meeting that focused on the strategy for following day, and I rapidly learned that to a person they were attentive respectful and very bright.

What’s more, each had their own unique skill sets to contribute to. The discussion such as expertise in the mechanics engineering, and safety, while others specialized in radar detection and meteorology.

Though Burt was clearly the ring leader they all had an important role to play in the operations and I was very impressed.

When the meeting adjourned Burt asked that we all gather in the same room the following morning at 6AM sharp accordingly, I went straight to my room, requested a wakeup call from the front desk, and a turned in early.

When my phone rang the next morning, I set sat up straight on the edge of the bed, and found myself enthused about what the day may produce, but I was likewise apprehensive to embark on my first foray into storm chasing but, it was my job after all.

Everyone arrived on time that morning, and we took seats in the dining area and as we consumed the hotel’s complimentary breakfast and some of the storm chasers reviewed the latest weather forecasts hoping to isolate the most likely storm formation, or tornadic activity and once the brain trust settled on a game plan we packed up, exited the hotel, and as Burt led the way toward the parking, lot he said, "Ruben, you’re going ride with Ray and me in Vortex II.

What’s that?

One of our technology vehicles, he said, pointing toward one of the brown trio vans.

These oversized vehicles featured satellite dishes and rotating radar equipment and fortunately, for me each van featured two bike racks on the back.

"Burt, is it okay if