Back in the late 1990s, when malls were still a big deal, my father had a kiosk at the West Ridge Mall in Topeka. I vaguely remember what he paid for that small spot, but I do know it was as pretty penny. I also recall that he had a decent show, but it wasn’t quite what he expected.
That (1996 or 1997) was also the year the old man hired my best friend Steve and I to work the booth for several shifts in the month leading up to Christmas. Steve worked most of those shifts because I already had two jobs and a heavy load at Washburn. I warned him that he should not show up late. As I’ve written in this space, Steve made that mistake, but only once.
My only other memory of that craft show is my father telling me that he saw his former fiancée, Debi, at the mall.
“It was on a Saturday, and the mall was just packed, busier than it had been during the whole show,” the old man said. “I swear I saw her, but she was in a huge crowd. I yelled, “Debi!” and she turned and looked around, then she kept walking.”
The first time I heard that story, I couldn’t believe the coincidence: my father working a show he rarely did in Topeka and seeing Debi in, of all places, the mall. I eventually learned that Debi is from the capital city.
All the years later, I know a little more about her. I once dialed a number that I thought was hers, only to find out that it was a brother-in-law. He was kind and said he would pass my information on to her, but it was her decision on calling me back. Unfortunately, I have not heard from her.
However, what information I do have on Debi is far more extensive than what I know about my dad’s best friend, James Danny Hollingshead, who I’ve been looking for off and on for several years now. I have not conducted an extensive search yet because I was writing (and now promoting) “Goodbye, Butterfly: Murder, faith and forgiveness in a small Kansas town.”
Every now and again, I find another small piece to the puzzle. A few weeks ago, for example, a young lady contacted me through my blog. As it turns it, she is one of Danny’s granddaughters. A day later, the son of a man I believe to be Danny’s son contacted me.
I’ve discovered since my father passed away that a lot of people are looking for Danny, including his brother, a niece and at least one grandchild. I think they are disappointed that I don’t know more, and I understand that finding Danny may not only be difficult, but also may not have a happy ending.
Nonetheless, I do plan to dive Danny’s story when (if) things slow down on “Goodbye, Butterfly.” What I do know about James Danny Hollingshead is that he had a rough upbringing and, like my father, was in trouble often as a young man.
He was in the Hutchinson Correctional Facility with my father in the mid- to late-1960s, and lived in Borrego Springs and San Diego, California, in the early to mid-1970s. He had at least three sons, including one, Sean, who died at age 3 in 1973. He may have lived in Lake Tahoe and El Monte after 1990. Danny was born in the early 1940s, and lived in Oklahoma and Kansas as a child and young man.
If you know anything about James Danny Hollingshead, please email me.
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS 2024, PART XI: Rewind to a “Rocky Balboa” review
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS 2024, PART X: An early gift from Mizzou
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS 2024, PART IX: Ranking the animated Christmas shows
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS 2024, PART XIII: Dad and Uncle Wayne
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS 2024, PART VII: Christmas away from home
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS 2024, PART VI: Remembering “Woody” and Lebanon
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRSTMAS 2024, PART V: Video games then and now
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS 2024, PART IV: Dad and Uncle John Henry
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS 2024, PART III: How the old man finally found his way
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS 2024, PART II: How I came up with “Goodbye, Butterfly” for the book title
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS 2024, PART I: The first Christmas I can remember