Was it Chemistry? Or a Miracle?

A question arises.

A few months ago, an email from Emily (Hallinan) Mavridoglou asked: When, where, and how did Art Hallinan and Dorothy Mooney meet? "How hard can it be to figure that one out?" we thought. But sometimes a question that at first glance appears to be simple turns out to be a little bit more complicated. This is one of those times.

The Great Mackinac Island Car Caper of 1938.

Last month, Vice President Pence's visit to Mackinac Island ruffled a few feathers because it involved the VP's eight-SUV motorcade cruising around on the formerly car-free resort island. Inevitably, the incident called to mind a much earlier breach of Mackinac's strict anti-internal-combustion-engine protocols. This one took place more than 80 years ago, and the culprits were that pair of Painesville anarchists, the Notorious Hallinan Brothers, Paul and Art.

Episodes in Ye Life of Ye Florist.

(An introduction to C.C. and Jane Hallinan — and their business — can be found in The Little Shop on Erie St., located here.)

C.C. and Jennie Hallinan closed the greenhouse and nursery in 1943, when their younger son (and business partner), Art, was drafted into military service during World War II: the work was too much for them alone, and the war's tight labor market made it difficult to find able-bodied hired hands. They kept the flower shop open. By the time Art was discharged from the Army in 1946, however, he had decided to pursue a career in accounting. With some regret, C.C. and Jennie, now in their seventies, chose to close the shop and retire, to "take it easy and do a little traveling," as they told the Painesville Telegraph.

The Hallinans in 1946.

The Little Shop on Erie St.

The short gentleman at the lower left in the photo above is Mr. Stoopnagle (first name unknown, unless it was "Mr."). The taller fellow is the young Arthur J. Hallinan, Sr. — before he added the “Sr.” to his name. This appears to be the only surviving picture of Mr. S. At first glance, he looks like a garden-variety garden gnome. But far from being merely decorative landscape-candy, this gnome had a more complicated and utilitarian life: he was a working sprinkler head, with a hose attachment (presumably somewhere in his nether regions) and orifices that sprayed water for the refreshment of nearby plants. And, oh yes, Mr. S. had one remarkable gift in particular: he could talk. More about that in a bit, but first a little background.