Hidden History Happy Hour

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🚨 ICYMI: In our last episode, the boys @ajcdeane and @denvercunning returned to a favourite theme: Gallantry at Sea - with midget submarines and the heroic last rides of a retired dairy farmer 👇 youtu.be/b2btdCR6BEg?si…

#Deanehistory 216. In this time of amber heat alerts, which in the ignorant olden days might have been called “summer,” the thoughts of some amongst us turn to the soothing bliss of ice cream. So it was with Howard Hughes, the late multimillionaire of Spruce Goose plane fame. In his later years, Hughes became a recluse, relying on a small inner circle to interact with the rest of the world, taking up the penthouse floor of a hotel in Las Vegas and, when the thought occurred to the hotelier that Hughes might move on, buying the hotel. He installed internal screens so his room couldn’t be seen even by the guards taking up posts at the door. He had doorknobs removed to prevent others going where he didn’t want them to. He compulsively washed himself in alcohol rub, which dripped onto paper towels on the floor, which then had to be shredded – and then burnt, with a member of staff tasked to watch until certain that nothing but ashes remained. All in all he was an odd one. And this manifested itself in having the same meal every day, which ended in this period with Baskin Robbins banana nut ice cream. The problem was that said company switches out its flavours from time to time, and one day a junior flunkey returned from the shops to tell a more senior flunkey that there was no more banana nut to be had. This caused enormous ructions in the ranks of the Hughes praetorian guard. Heaven knows that the boss couldn’t be told that what he wasn’t was not to be had, and there was only a tub or two left in the supplies. Thus it was that a Hughes executive called the leadership at Baskin Robbins and asked them to run a discontinued flavour for them. The answer was what you’d get from most businesses – sure, it can be done: but it’s going to cost you, and you have to buy in bulk. Do it, the instruction came. Do it. And at very significant expense to the Hughes empire, Baskin Robbins obediently pumped 350 gallons of banana nut ice cream into a freezer truck, which was driven overnight from Las Angeles to Las Vegas. Thank the good lord, our flunkeys no doubt said. For this is just in time. We are down to the last scoop of the old stuff. Now we have enough to last Howard for a lifetime! That night, Hughes – having had no meaningful contact with the outside world for a very long time, and certainly no line of sight on the ice cream crisis that had been averted at the last moment – put down his spoon contently and said “That’s great ice cream, but it’s time for a change. From now on I want vanilla.” From that time forward, anyone meeting with Hughes executives – or sometimes even came into contact with them in the Las Vegas streets – bemusedly found themselves pressed to take the gift of a tub of banana nut ice cream. Stay safe in the heat!

#Deanehistory 216. In this time of amber heat alerts, which in the ignorant olden days might have been called “summer,” the thoughts of some amongst us turn to the soothing bliss of ice cream. So it was with Howard Hughes, the late multimillionaire of Spruce Goose plane fame. In his later years, Hughes became a recluse, relying on a small inner circle to interact with the rest of the world, taking up the penthouse floor of a hotel in Las Vegas and, when the thought occurred to the hotelier that Hughes might move on, buying the hotel. He installed internal screens so his room couldn’t be seen even by the guards taking up posts at the door. He had doorknobs removed to prevent others going where he didn’t want them to. He compulsively washed himself in alcohol rub, which dripped onto paper towels on the floor, which then had to be shredded – and then burnt, with a member of staff tasked to watch until certain that nothing but ashes remained. All in all he was an odd one. And this manifested itself in having the same meal every day, which ended in this period with Baskin Robbins banana nut ice cream. The problem was that said company switches out its flavours from time to time, and one day a junior flunkey returned from the shops to tell a more senior flunkey that there was no more banana nut to be had. This caused enormous ructions in the ranks of the Hughes praetorian guard. Heaven knows that the boss couldn’t be told that what he wasn’t was not to be had, and there was only a tub or two left in the supplies. Thus it was that a Hughes executive called the leadership at Baskin Robbins and asked them to run a discontinued flavour for them. The answer was what you’d get from most businesses – sure, it can be done: but it’s going to cost you, and you have to buy in bulk. Do it, the instruction came. Do it. And at very significant expense to the Hughes empire, Baskin Robbins obediently pumped 350 gallons of banana nut ice cream into a freezer truck, which was driven overnight from Las Angeles to Las Vegas. Thank the good lord, our flunkeys no doubt said. For this is just in time. We are down to the last scoop of the old stuff. Now we have enough to last Howard for a lifetime! That night, Hughes – having had no meaningful contact with the outside world for a very long time, and certainly no line of sight on the ice cream crisis that had been averted at the last moment – put down his spoon contently and said “That’s great ice cream, but it’s time for a change. From now on I want vanilla.” From that time forward, anyone meeting with Hughes executives – or sometimes even came into contact with them in the Las Vegas streets – bemusedly found themselves pressed to take the gift of a tub of banana nut ice cream. Stay safe in the heat!

The new @HistoryHrPod episode is out and we’re excited to know what you think! Naval derring do and a brave rescue… 👇🏻 — youtu.be/b2btdCR6BEg?si…