As long as there have been problems ("That guy in the next cave keeps borrowing my rocks and won't give them back. What should I do?"), there have been people willing to offer free advice, writes Chicago Tribune senior staff writer Rick Kogan.

But few advisers have had as much cultural impact on the American public as advice columnist Ann Landers.

In his reflective account, America's Mom: The Life, Lessons, and Legacy of Ann Landers, Kogan recounts in entertaining anecdotes and letters written by Ann Landers' friends (Hugh Hefner, Pat Collins, Dan Savage), the journey out of obscurity, taken by an inexperienced Iowa writer named Esther Friedman .

Ann Landers was born on July 4, 1918, 17 minutes before her twin sister, Pauline, who would later become her archrival, Dear Abby.

An unconventional wife and mother, Esther (known as Eppie to her friends) displayed a fierce independence and feisty spirit.

Eppie tried to cut a path in Chicago politics, but was told by the city political leaders that she was too idealistic and independent.

Those qualities would be a plus in Eppie's journalistic career. Possessing all the qualities of the stereotypical Jewish mother - doting, blunt, concerned and a bit overbearing - she never had a problem dispensing advice, Kogan writes.

Her break came when Chicago Sun-Times advice columnist Ruth Crowley (the original Ann Landers) died in 1955. Wilbur Munnecke, a family friend and the Sun-Times vice-president and business manager, arranged for Eppie to meet Ann Landers' editor Larry Fanning.

Eppie told Munnecke that she saw the column as a chance to help people. As a test, Fanning handed her a stack of letters to take home to answer. A week later, he was surprised with the results. Eppie had a searing wit and was outspoken, a quality Ruth Crowley sadly lacked. Fanning asked Eppie how long could she keep it up.

"I think I can keep it up for quite awhile," she replied.

Like a baseball scout who discovered a high schooler who can throw a 100-mph fastball, Kogan writes, Fanning took Eppie's wisdom and taught her how to throw journalistic curves, sliders and change-ups.

And until her death, Eppie always credited her success to Fanning's strict tutelage.

Before Eppie took over the column in late '55, Ann Landers had always played it safe, counseling teen-age girls whose boyfriends were preoccupied with working on cars and other non-controversial topics.

But now, Ann Landers' column had a bite.In responding to a selection of the 2,000 letters she received each day, Eppie never shied away from addressing touchy issues: drugs, sex, gays and Vietnam. Her sassy, practical responses tempered with zero tolerance for whiners, made her columns irresistible.

"Turn off the waterworks, you're wasting natural resources," was a classic Ann Landers response.

For 1960s teens, Eppie functioned as teacher, counselor and nonjudgmental friend,roles that others in their lives were unable or unwilling to fulfill. By so doing, she endeared herself to a generation of loyal readers and became for some the mother they didn't have.

The downside of Eppie's success was the riff the column caused between herself and her twin sister Pauline, whom she called "Popo." Backlogged with letters, Eppie began mailing Popo letters to answer in accordance with Fanning's guidelines.

When Fanning found out, he made Eppie stop and gave her two assistants. However, "Popo had been bitten by the advice bug and decided that the newspaper advice racket might . . . accommodate two Friedman sisters. Dear Abby started appearing in papers around the country, which strained the sisters' relationship for several years and fueled the media with fodder about the dueling twins. Their daughters would rekindle the feud years later in their respected columns."

A low point in Eppie's tenure is when she chose to announce to readers that she was getting a divorce after 34 years. She felt the announcement might end her career, considering her rigid opposition to divorce. As expected, her readers responded in record numbers. She received 30,000 letters of support, which she kept all her life.

A triumphantly somber moment came after she attended the disappointing funeral eulogy of her dear friend, film critic Gene Siskel. Not wanting to suffer the same fate as Siskel, Eppie had the opportunity to supervise and edit the first draft of her own obituary.

"It's not creepy. It's the newspaper business," Eppie told Kogan, who was Eppie's last editor and lifelong friend.

In Eppie's obit and in his book, Kogan paints a moving and insightful portrait of the last of a breed.

Eppie had told Kogan that having your obituary written by someone you know is kind of like getting a goodbye letter. Although Kogan did contribute to Eppie's obit, he didn't think of writing this book until after her death last year.

America's Mom is his moving farewell.

Laurence Washington is the co-publisher/editor of Blackflix.com and teaches journalism at Metropolitan State College of Denver.

Back to Top