Editor’s note: For our 30th anniversary, we’re reprinting some of our favorite past features. This one first ran on April 19, 2000.
Ycleptomania” is the name for the urge to name, but that could get misinterpreted.
For dedicated onomatologists, the phone book makes fascinating reading, which is just what we did – yup, the whole thing. For the record, the first entry in our local directory is Paul Aanonsen of Oak Park, just beating out Ralph Aasbrein. J.K. Zylstra of Oak Park, on the other hand, earns the distinction of being last in the book (but easy to find), preceded by David Zyer of River Forest.
In between, however, there are some fascinating names, long and short, exotic and familiar. Most of the names cited in this article live in either Oak Park, River Forest or Forest Park. A few from last year’s phone book are not found in this year’s, and a few live in the surrounding suburbs.
There are names you can’t get enough of: Adolphus Adolphus, for instance. Some just make love to your tongue: S.A. Wimbiscus, Jagannath Devulapally, Dadi Ding, Atakan Africa, Dansby Cheeks, Emmett Drumgoole, Richard Bushpaka, Loverjean Conner, William Y. Wai, Vernon V. Volke, Zlatan Civic, Mary Vermillion, Rosemary Easter, Sam S. Sample, Sudie Seed, Silvero Sosa, Xion Rainmaker, Bo Quarnstrom, Boaz Super, Tiffany Swann, Alice Leaf, April Moon, Saraya Nunnery, Clement Pacific, Dellwyn Meewes, Amanda Miranda, Ramon Licorish, and Andrew Openlander.
Some are short and to the point: C. Wu, C. Ditto, N. Dust, Betty Au, Casa Bau, Doc Copy, Chris Co, Ibett Colon, Chun Chan, Lan Bui, Iris Yipp, Gigi Ip, Elba Tello, Anders Uhl, Alice Um, A. Flex, Jon Hon, Tin Tin Soe, Hoon Shin, B. Gee, M. Mlady, Scott Plapp and Ronald Ploof.
Some are long enough to challenge even the most incorrigible name-dropper: Maria Vandenlangenberg, Sabera Iqballudin, Kosin Isariyawongse, Mary Conti-Swiontoniowski (a doctor, by the way, so you can imagine deciphering that signature), N. Samatasoraboot (makes you wonder how long the first name is), and the worst nightmare of the pronunciation-impaired: Ruttana Iuttanajarounsub. Or maybe it’s Sunisa Trakoonyingjaroen.
Some names are a novelist’s delight (if the novelist happens to be Charles Dickens or Charlotte Brontë): Heidi Bird, R. Lunde Winnery, Peter Apostle, Lamont Change, Bette Bottoms, Belinda Blue, Pearlie Dear, Max Toledo, Steve Stagg, Trent Tredway, Constance Bitter, Lane Flack, Charity Sands, Wendell Smoot, Borgia Graves III, John Hartless, Rory Supple, J.E. Oneyear, and Breese Quinn.
And some names we just like but can’t explain why: Michael Bonk, Ruby Battle, John Blunk, Bill Boat, Michael Awe, Shira Coffee, N. Vader (no relation to Darth, we presume), Jim Zangs, William Bango, Larry Dodgers, Jody Downhill, Paul Van Briggle, G. Duddy, Ilse Voobus, Charlie Stats, J.M. Tums, Yolawnda Edge, John Forehand, Esther Heft, Larry Schoof, David Smull, George Rarity, Karl Swims, Ted Gooch, Asar Ha-Pi, and Andrew Paternoster.
Some names just make you wonder: Han Solo, for instance, or Justin Case or Earth Right (an environmentalist perhaps?). There is a Eugene Early and also a Eugene Tardy. We tried to contact Eugene Early, but his phone was disconnected, so I guess we called too late.
We did get hold of a few other listings:
Honesty, meet Honorable
People are always misspelling Lorene Honorable’s name. Both names, in fact. They always assume her first name is “Lorraine” and, for some reason, they keep changing her last name to “Huxtable.”
A few years back, when she was in court for her employer (a real estate case involving a problem tenant), “The judge really went off on my name.” He found in her favor, saying, “I believe this woman will live up to her name.” Afterward, her boss said, “Any time I need to go to court, I’m taking you with me.”
That’s the most frequent response she gets from people (“I’m sure you are”) and this 57-year-old who lives at Heritage House (she’s disabled) says, “I do my best to live up to my name.”
It’s a name she married into and has no idea about the origin, but her sister also married an Honorable (her husband’s brother). Lorene’s maiden name is Moss, but she likes the one she assumed.
“It’s an honorable name,” she says, “and God has blessed me.”
Cheryl Honesty, on the other hand, is a sales director for Mary Kay Cosmetics, so the name sometimes comes in handy when she’s trying to reassure clients.
She loves the name, and even if she gets married someday, she won’t change it. “It’s who I am,” she says. “It’s the way I was born and the way I’ll stay.”
With a name like Honesty, you get a lot of recognition and attention, she notes. The main disadvantage is that people try to spell it phonetically, and have a tendency to leave off the “H.”
The most frequent wisecrack she fields is: “Honestly, Honesty, do you always tell the truth?” Her answer, in all seriousness, is, “No. No one does.” Though she believes “Honesty is the best policy,” she usually adds: “When it’s the best policy to be honest. Most people can’t handle the absolute truth.”
It does make for a catchy slogan, however. When she was in high school, she ran for class officer and figured with her name, her best bet was treasurer.
She did get caught cheating once – or as the teacher put it, “rubbernecking” – in eighth grade with another girl named “Blanchita,” and the double irony of the two names was not lost on the teacher who couldn’t stop laughing about it.
Cheryl assumes that the name derives from the slavery era. Her family hails from the Virginia/D.C. area. She also knows of another group of Honestys who come from Ohio.
‘S Wonderful
Smucker’s Preserves has a slogan: “With a name like Smucker’s, it has to be good.” What about with a name like Wonderful?
Wonderful Watson, that is. With a name like Wonderful, you’d have to be what? A daredevil entertainer like Evel Knievel? Something along those lines, right?
Wonderful Watson is an accountant.
But the name still comes in handy. As with most distinctive names, though you have to put up with a lot of wisecracks and doubletakes, it also can be an asset, especially in business. “It’s a good conversation piece,” says Watson. “People don’t forget you.”
The most frequent comeback is, “Are you really wonderful?” Watson typically responds, “You’ll have to ask my wife.” His wife, Salina (as in Kansas), usually says yes.
Of course, it took some getting used to when they first started going out. “When she told her girlfriends,” Watson recalls, “it raised a few eyebrows.”
Wonderful, 33, doesn’t know a lot about the name’s origin. His late mother told him he was named after an uncle, but he never met the man. Wonderful is the sixth of seven children, but his siblings all have ordinary names.
He does hear a lot of chuckles on the other end of the phone, and, admittedly, it is mildly disconcerting to find yourself saying, “Hello, is this Wonderful?” But Watson has learned to take it all in stride. He finds that many people are surprised to discover he’s such a normal guy. “Just because you have an unusual name,” he notes, “doesn’t mean you’re an unusual person.”
Wooden Mike
Mike Dutka has to put up with being mistaken for you-know-who. That’s not the worst thing in the world, says Dutka, who is actually a fan of Ditka. “I think he’s been good for Chicago,” says Dutka of Ditka. In case you’re confused, Dutka explains, “He’s Iron Mike, and I’m Wooden Mike.” Dutka has a millwork business in Galewood, you see, where he does custom woodworking.
Dutka is either Ukrainian or Polish, depending on which way the boundaries moved, as they often did throughout the past century. When he read James Michener’s Poland, some years back, he found a mention of a town named “Dutka.” Ditka, he says, is also Ukrainian.
Dutka recalls that Ditka owned a bowling alley in Willowbrook during his playing days, and Dutka used to go there as a kid because Bear players would hang out there.
Has the name likeness ever worked in his favor? “Not yet,” he says, “but I’m open to attracting venture capital if anyone’s offering.”
Is Dutka still a Bears fan? “It depends on the year,” he says.
Never a Dull moment
Tara Dull first met her husband on a blind date. At the time, of course, she was Tara Meyer, and the prospect of going out with a guy named Dull, she admits, raised “some concern.” But he turned out to be “tall, dark and handsome,” she says. “My roommates would say, ‘You’re going out with who?’ but he had grace, style and charisma.” In other words, he was anything but … you know. Tim told her he figured it was a good screening mechanism. “A woman would really have to love me to take my name,” he told her.
In dealing with her adopted name, Tara followed her husband’s lead. His rejoinders were some variation of “Opposite of sharp” or “Yep, just like it sounds.” But the name invariably gets a reaction.
Originally, the name, which is German, may have been Dall, and one side of her husband’s family actually changed it when the kids reached high school age. But Tim’s father, the family patriarch, is having none of that. He takes a kind of pride in it.
It could be worse, Tara says. She used to have a gynecologist named Butcher. “I don’t have it so bad,” she observes.
When she makes dinner reservations, however, she usually gives her first name. Of course, then she has to put up with “Gone With the Wind” wisecracks.
Han? It’s Chewie
Not everyone in the phone book uses their real name. “Han Solo,” as we suspected, turned out to be an alias for Mike DeFranco, who formerly worked as a forensic scientist with the state police. To protect his privacy, he chose the name of his “favorite movie character of all time.” He’s now a sales specialist for a biochemical company, but the name was popular with his friends, so he kept it.
Yes, he does get pranksters and drunks who call occasionally to say, “Han? It’s Chewbacca,” or “This is Luke Skywalker,” but it’s more fun than nuisance. And when this bachelor is asked by a prospective date for his phone number, he tells them, “Just look for a famous Star Wars character in the Oak Park phone book.”
There’s another advantage to giving an alias in the phone book, he says. You don’t have to pay the fee for “unlisting” your name.
Imagine how many great names there are out there that aren’t even in the phone book.