Before twitter there were fan letters: Dear Mr. Redford

November 12, 1973 Dear Bob  Mr. Redford,I just had to write to tell you how hot and sexy talented, I think you are.  Laura and I bickered over who was more desirable — Robert Redford or Clint Eastwood — with as much fervor as we girls once debated who our favorite Beatle was, Paul or John, George or Ringo. Laura's mother, tiny Corky, curled up in her easy chair with a ciggie and a cup of tea, pronounced both actors 'tall drinks of water'. This was so long before  water became such a desirable commodity that we actually had to buy it by the bottle, back in the seventies when water was still free even in the once desert lands of Los Angeles, that I never quite understood the praise. But yes, Redford could put his shoes under my bed any time, as our mothers might have said, mostly about men whose paths they would likely never cross. I had it so bad for Robert Redford after seeing The Way We Were ; wishing I were Barbara Streisand with her impossibly long eleg

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A question on the anniversary of my father's death

My dad, on the right.

 I woke up this morning thinking about my father. He died 26 years ago today, and since it’s British Isles Friday I thought I’d share a few pix of my very British old man. I also have a question about the old family photo above. I believe it was taken sometime in the 1950’s when we lived in Tripoli, Libya. There is another photograph somewhere of the larger group at what appears to be some sort of professional gathering or meeting, a handful of men and one woman sitting on chairs at either side. My father, ex-British Intelligence, fluent in Arabic, was working for the American government at the AFEX, the Army & Air Force exchange store at Wheelus Air Force base in Tripoli at the time. I don’t know the exact nature of his work but while he was investigating some unusually large financial losses he learned that an American he became close friends with turned out to be embezzling funds. That must have been one helluva an awkward friend breakup! 

What I’m really curious about from this time period though, is identity of the man (man-sitting) beside my father. Family lore says he is a Libyan royal or an important personage of some kind. With both my parents gone, there is no one left for us kids to ask. As happens so often with children, we don’t always listen all that closely to the stories our parents tell. By the time we’re interested, it’s often too late. While my dad loved to talk, and surely must have shared these details, I don’t remember them. I wish I’d taken notes! 

If the image strikes a chord with you, or you have a suggestion as to how to find out his identity, please give me a holler in the comment sections.

Now a few more pix from those black and white days!

Me and my da da (England, 1956)

I loved this wartime portrait of my dashing dad so much, I asked him to make a copy for me. 

This photograph was taken during World War II when my dad was one of the officers charged with overseeing Italian prisoners of war. My father is second from the right.

Please Share!

I don’t usually ask this but I would love for you to share this post to help me learn the identity of the man sitting on the couch with my father, in Tripoli, Libya. 

My dad, Edward Good (no middle name) was born in 1915 in Preston, Lancashire, UK. He was fluent in five languages. In addition to Arabic—and English, of course—he spoke French, Spanish and Italian, all self-taught. He served in WWII, was stationed in the middle east, married our mother Enid M. Good (nee Hayden) in England, in 1947ish. After leaving Tripoli, we lived in Turkey, again with my father working for the American miliary, before moving to Canada in the early 1960’s. He would have been in his mid-forties when the photo at the top of the page was taken in the mid-1950’s. The man sitting next to him looks to be somewhere in that same age range.

Any information is welcome. Thanks!

Connect with Joy Weese Moll for British Isles Friday


  1. If you live near a library with a good section for genealogical research, you might start there for advice on how to research a question like that.

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  3. Fascinating, Sim. Your dad sounds quite a guy. My dad was in Egypt with the 8th Army - arrived just in time for Alamein - and died far too young 45 years ago this November; I can't believe where the time has gone. I don't suppose there's any mileage in cropping the photograph in question and sending it to someone specialising in Libyan history, or even a Libyan Embassy (if there is such a thing)?

  4. Thanks Joy, that's a great suggestion.

    Mike, I've learned that Libya does have an active embassy located in Washington. I'm not sure they would have time to help but I bet they be able to direct me to a good source. Great idea, too, thanks very much.
    I'm sorry about your dad. You must have been quite young as well!


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