My favorite Oscar Rennebohm story was related to me two decades ago by a lively 92-year-old man named Lenor Zeeh.
It was 1935, Zeeh said, and he was studying pharmacy at UW-Madison. To be licensed as a pharmacist you needed to work a year in a pharmacy and pass the state board exam, but it was the Depression, and no one would hire him.
“One day I was sitting and stewing,” Zeeh said. “I decided to try Rennebohm’s one more time.”…