By Dorothy Rosby
Ever since I read that the documents and other memorabilia of my hero Erma Bombeck will soon be displayed at her alma mater, the University of Dayton, I’ve been wondering what will become of my papers when I’m gone. Will they be exhibited in a new climate-controlled wing at my alma mater? Or will they be discarded by disappointed descendants who while cleaning out my office decide I must have been quite unstable all along and they should probably go ahead and contest my will?
Just in case it’s the former, I look around my house to determine what a Dorothy Rosby collection might contain. Erma Bombeck was, of course, one of the great American humorists of the 20th century. She published more than 4000 columns in 900 newspapers. Her columns fill six boxes. I’ve published somewhat fewer columns in somewhat fewer newspapers. Newspaper clippings of my columns fill one box—almost. Her collection contains hundreds of her column ideas written on the back of old column drafts, scraps of paper and even an airline napkin. I also have hundreds of column ideas scribbled on scraps of paper, with the most interesting one being a paper placemat from a local diner. It comes complete with a mustard stain which lends it a touch of authenticity and only a faint mustardy odor. I don’t think there’s any sense in shipping my notes off to Augustana University though because no one could read them anyway. I barely can. Also in the Bombeck collection are the original manuscripts of her 15 books, many of them bestsellers. I’ve written some books too, though not 15—and not bestsellers. Among Erma’s items is the 1977 New York Times’ Best Seller List plaque for The Grass is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank, her first book to garner that honor. I have no such plaque. Nor do I have a septic tank…or green grass.