By Anton J. Sartori

2057 Fremont Ave.
So. Pasadena, California

 

Menu of Stories Globe-Post Issues

1938 Nov 14

1948 Apr 24 - VanNimwegen, Cecile

1949 Feb 03 - Anna Bellaire

1949 Feb 24 - Shadle, Miss Olive

1949 Mar 10

1949 Jun 23

1950 Sep 14 - How It All Started

1953 Apr 02 - Adeline de Walt Reynolds

1953 Jun 11 - Memorial Day

1953 Nov 05

1954 Jul 15 - McArthur, Mrs. D.F.

1954 Nov 25

1955 Mar 17

1957 Feb 25

1957 Jul 29

1957 Aug 01

1958 Jun 30 & Aug 7 - Sartori Last LeMars Visit

 

 

About the author

One of the most popular and long-standing features in The Globe-Post is “Olla Podrida,” a unique column conducted by Anton J. Sartori, former LeMars druggist, and a banker at Los Angeles, California.
-o.p.-
Olla Podrida is almost always in strong (but nice) opposition to The Globe-Post's editorial policy. Tony Sartori is a New Deal Democrat. He thinks Franklin D. Roosevelt was the greatest President.

And anything he writes is PRINTED. Tony's the absolute and unquestioned boss of what goes into Olla Podrida.
-o.p.-
Tony has the rare ability of recalling nostalgic and pleasant scenes out of LeMars colorful past.  He is a smooth writer, with a deftness and felicity of expression surpassed by none.
-o.p.-
Under the magic of his unique style, readers re-live the pleasant moments of the past. Forgotten and agreeable times are recalled. ~"As The Globe-Post Sees It" excerpt from Morsels From Olla Podrida, 1954

-o.p.-

**Olla Podrida column ran from Sept 1938-Oct 1958

Anton J. Sartori Jr 1883-1958

Obituary Link

Memorial Tribute Link

From the beginning - 1st column

LeMars Globe-Post
September 15, 1938

OLLA PODRIDA
By Anton J. Sartori

“MY COUNTRY, TIS OF THEE, .....”

Well, folks…here’s the newest thing in town—a column conducted by remote-control. If that isn’t new, what is?
-o. p.-
And don’t think I didn’t spar with the keyboard for what seemed like an age to get out that opening paragraph. But I made it, and if down to here will pass for a bow.  I’ll speak my piece, and give you, what I consider, a fairly plausible excuse for this column’s existence.
-o. p.-
It was this way. Somehow, somewhere, someone discovered that I was not opposed to the movement called the New Deal.
-o. p.-
There was talk.
-o. p.-
That guy, they said, must be a freak. We’d better corral him. And they did. But it wasn’t as easy as all that, because they were a bit underhanded about it.  First, they baited me; then they flattered me; then they dared me, and to cap it all, they double-dared me.
-o. p.-
“Do you,” they asked, “really believe in the New Deal enough to stand up and pitch for our President, his policies, and any other business that may come before the house?”
-o. p.-
And like the blushing bride, I said: “I do.”
-o. p.-
And that’s the way this whole thing got started.
-o. p.-
I am not a politician. I have never held, nor do I aspire to office.  In this venture I have nothing more at stake than the first five words of “America” and I have used them as the opening line of this article.
-o. p.-
I believe in working for the things that bring the greatest good to the greatest number. If this makes of me a New Dealer, then that’s what I am, and I’ll defend my position to the best of my ability.
-o. p.-
But I must be allowed off the reservation part of the time, much of the time, for I have no stomach for a steady diet of political pabulum.
-o. p.-
See you next week.