"Hank" Ketchum and the Moonstruck Band

March 10, 1975

Monday morning brought clouds and a slight twinge of despair to Henry's morning commute. As a rising star at the star tribune, Henry "Hank" Ketchum had a knack for reconstructing mysterious pasts of those on the edge of stardom. His work appeared in the features section on Sunday. He'd resurrected the careers of many a lost musician, and his latest project had him driving through the mild Minneapolis traffic
an hour earlier than usual, to respond to a message left on a bright yellow post it note, when he returned from lunch on Friday. "Jasmine from the museum. Moonstruck record found."

Hank had been following the career of Marzine Jacoby ever since he discovered the clipping in his grandfather's chest. He discovered Hershel was a distant cousin, bore a child, a daughter, Marzine, who was frequently mentioned in certain circles of folk aficionados. The connections were unbelievable, Guthrie, Dylan, McCarthy and the Red Scare, Presidents Eisenhower and Coolidge.

How could one woman connected, albeit indirectly, to the core of American popular culture simply slip by. Marzine's music, when he found mention of it, was usually found in a compendium of another folk pioneer, the Carter Family. A stray handbill in a Missoula newspaper in 1947 had Marzine's Moonstruck Band sharing a venue with an odd sort of characters, a motley crew of contortionists, jugglers and gypsies.

Each attempt at folding back a layer of truth would only yield another dozen offshoots of mystery. Once while going over medical records for the Union Pacific Railroad company, he found an old insurance claim for Marzine Jacoby, only to find a demolished home, now property of the railroad. How fitting, he thought, for the property to fall once again into the hands of the railroad. The industry that had recently fell upon hard times had seen fit to annex the entire Jacoby home. The fire of 1960 destroyed most of the records, but all along this medical record of Marzine acted as the lone symbol that kindled the fire in Hank's brain.

So it was quite a surprise when he returned from lunch to find the post it note. He instantly dropped his sandwich and flicked the holes in the phone until the pulses yielded the accurate number. With a dab of mustard dripping from his chin, he barked into the receiver.

“Out to lunch, whaddaya mean, she just called, and its 3 oclock”

“I said three o clock, no, theres nothing wrong with me, Im from Brooklyn.”

“Look it’s a long story, do you know anything about the Moonstruck Band?”

“Monday, look, I cant wait until Monday, I have a deadline to meet… “

“Ok, ok, Monday it is then, unless you can provide a home number.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks”

He slammed the phone down, staring at his Editor.

“Librarian’s out until Monday. Can you believe it? Now that I finally have confirmation that she did indeed record a single at sun studios. I don’t know about the rest of the rumors, but we have a confirmation. Now if only I can hear it…”

His editor was by now used to the histrionics of Hank’s ways.
“I’ll believe it when I have your story in my hands. And what the hell are we going to run this Sunday?”

“I’ve already got it taken care of.” Hank said, stretching out his hands, containing a 8 by 10 glossy of a four armed bearded man. “They call him Ogden the four-armed monkey boy, he was on Dr. Demento’s first show.”

“Get the hell out of my office until you come back with a story containing your little ghost.”

“Ah what the Christ?”