My husband noted this week that I’ve only posted about newspaper finds lately — no headstones, no graveyards.
“It IS Graveyard Snoop, after all,” he remarked (pretty bravely for a guy whose wife hangs out in cemeteries).
My husband noted this week that I’ve only posted about newspaper finds lately — no headstones, no graveyards.
“It IS Graveyard Snoop, after all,” he remarked (pretty bravely for a guy whose wife hangs out in cemeteries).
Must love dogs.
By the mid-1930s, Dorothy Eagles’ North Side Animal Shelter was thriving. The new location on Damen Avenue had a two-story brick building at its center. It featured offices, medical care, an annex housing 70 cats and dogs — even pet cremation services. Every year, hundreds of animals came in, were cared for, and found new owners.1
But care cannot save everything.
Dorothy’s husband, Lester Eagles, never got much mention in the newspapers. I know he built the first shelter’s cages, and that he would go out on calls to pick up strays. But beyond that, he’s a bit of a mystery.
Also a mystery is why their marriage ended. While I couldn’t find a divorce date, by 1936, Dorothy was vacationing in Palm Springs with a man named George Harz.2
Doctor George Harz, that is… a veterinarian.
Source: Chicago Tribune; Nov. 21, 1937
Source: Chicago Tribune; July 18, 1937
Friend to the friendless.
I’ve been dying to write this one.
Dorothy Eagles’ name was in those scraps my husband brought home, and this was the first photo I found of her.