Nancy’s independent spirit and inquiring mind were early influences on my imagination. Her enthusiasm at solving puzzles in her world let me reason that I could do the same. Though I was not jet setting with my lawyer dad to exotic places, creeping up secret stairwells and hunting for treasures in gypsy camps, I lived as if I were. The world opened up for me when I began to investigate it. Nancy led the way into the great unknown and assured me that the world belonged to me. I learned early from her escapades that girls could be strong, smart and pretty.

 

By second grade, I was drawing up intricate games with maps, plots and charts for lunch hour adventures. With detailed descriptions of ghosts to bust, pirate treasure to excavate, and doorways to enter, I led my playmates through vivid and elaborate thrills. I was always Nancy, of course. One day another girl protested my assumed leadership, saying she was tired of being Nancy’s plump, meek sidekick, Bess. I hotly told her that when she began thinking for herself, designing the story and the maps, and doing things of her own initiative, she could be the leader. This was an early foreshadowing of a falling-out between us 20 years later: I was eventually unable to bear that this girl just couldn’t think on her own and patterned her every hobby, interest and thought after the paths I had forged from my own imagination. Ms Drew taught me that the world has room for many Nancies, but she must create herself and forge her own spunk and daring. Those without imaginative, passionate risk-taking would be left behind in River Heights while Nancy hobnobbed with lurking lake spirits, dancing puppets, and masked intruders.

 

Though each beloved tale was formulaic, the formula was a winning one- grab life by the horns, speak up for yourself, don’t be a wallflower, meet interesting characters, take risks but use your brain, and drive a blue convertible. Have a hot boyfriend, as well, but never let that be a reason to stay at home by the telephone. Be smart, be witty, be clever, and be curious. Live life fully. Live plucky.

 

I always wondered how Nancy could be so fearless in the face of adversary. Not one strawberry-blonde hair (or titian, in earlier renditions) was ever out of place even while Nancy confronted the darkest aspects of human nature and the deepest mysteries of the past. Thirty years later, having lived through a maelstrom of horrors and losses and terrors like early widowhood and clinical depression, I learned that beneath her flippant, fierce confidence Nancy was likely quaking in her boots, just like the rest of us, but went on to solve problems anyhow, not waiting for something or someone else to make sense of things for her.

 

The winning style of detective work here was simply investigation of the world around her. Sleuthing meant the requisite magnifying glass, it meant tunnels and spooks and ruins and secret rooms. But it also meant the library, travel, and lengthy talks with eccentric locals and yokels. It meant getting to the heart of the matter, learning from different people and places along the way. Every mystery involved exploring a different history from my own- or Nancy’s. The Mystery of the Ivory Charm transported us to India, where we learned something about elephant training in the circus. We clambered aboard the Bonny Scot and learned about figureheads and clipper ships in The Secret of the Wooden Lady. We added “cipher” to our vocabulary and learned about Incan ruins and Peruvian history in The Clue of the Crossword Cipher. There’s voodoo, Morse codes, archeological digs in Mexico; we headed to Scotland for some bagpipes, tartan lore, and ancient Gaelic. The Mystery of the Fire Dragon took us to Hong Kong. We discovered rare books, the Cyclops, petroglyphs and geology, France, and larkspur cultivation.

 

Much has been made of our heroine Ms. Drew’s plucky, feisty charm and how it infused proper, delicate, meek little ladies with the adrenaline for adventure and imagination. Perhaps no other influence in history, including women’s accomplishments in science, spirituality, or art was quite as ferocious- Nancy was the Yes I Can for so many generations of girls. Since 1930, Nancy’s indomitable, globetrotting spirit has captivated and catapulted young imaginations into greater realms. She taught us that you get right back up if you get knocked down.

 

The message wasn’t contrived or complicated: very simply, Nancy felt that a vibrant life meant a curious one, where education was important behind the scenes and on the field. In other words, living life meant getting off your butt. 

 

 

Lorette C. Luzajic is the author of The Astronaut’s Wife: Poems of Eros and Thanatos; Weird Monologues for a Rainy Life (irreverent ramblings from the end of the world); Dendrite Pandemonium; and most recently, editor of Goodbye, Billie Jean: the Meaning of Michael Jackson. Visit http://thegirlcanwrite.net/michael_jackson.html for more information, or look her up on Amazon.