History is only a day away....

If I could learn history from novels -- I'd be a happy woman. But, some authors don't do enough research or use too much literary license. Then I remember that it is a NOVEL which means FICTION which basically translates into NOT TRUE or at the least, unreliable.

I'm a grown up now. I eat my vegetables, avoid fatty foods, go to work every day, don't max out my credit cards. So, it is time I began to learn history from nonfiction sources. I picked up an audio recording of David McCullough's award winning "John Adams" and started listening to it while working on a quilt.

The quilt proved more difficult than I thought it would be (see Subversive Stitchers site for more about that). But, the book turned out to be much more compelling than I expected. Drawn from John and Abigail Adams letters, diaries and correspondences as well as those of other leaders of the times and public record and documents, the book is like being there. I can't wait until the HBO mini series starts later this month.

Since my little foray into history turned out so delightful, I started searching around for other topics I might find interesting. The Internet in its unlimited way brought me face to face with the Civil War prison on Johnson Island in Ohio. It was a prison for Confederate officers located just off shore in Lake Erie -- near the current site of Cedar Point amusement park. Apparently I am not the only one who thinks about this prison. Heidelberg College in Tiffin, OH, has an ongoing archaeological dig at the prison's site and they have posted some of their findings online. (They are digging in the prison's latrines -- eeeeewwwww.) The professor, Dr. David Bush, leading the dig wrote an article for Archaeology magazine and was gracious enough to send me a copy of it. His enthusiasm is contagious and his project can use all of the funding it can get.

Friends and Descendents of Johnson's Island Civil War Prison purchased a portion of the island to preserve the site from developers and individual beach homes or from being turned into an orchard or who knows what.

I wondered how many other historic sites in the United States are threatened? Dr. Bush suggested I visit the Civil War Preservation Trust since it was the one organization battling to save our Civil War historic sites.

It seems to be a fact of life that 'old' is not revered in the United States. Old buildings get demolished to make way for newer, shinier, more modern edifices. Frank Lloyd Wright's work gets some concern for preservation, but even that is waning. So when it comes to grassy battlefields standing empty -- some developer sees visions of strip malls and parking lots. It isn't like in Scotland where castles are allowed to stand for centuries, piles of stones have meaning beyond that of a pile of stones, and the battle fields -- Culloden comes to mind -- are revered. The anger and emotion of that battle that was fought in the 1740s still smolders. Maybe that is more like the Confederate or Southern remembrance of the War Between the States....

But, still the battlefields are disappearing. There are some that have been lost. But there is hope. The Civil War Preservation Trust writes:

Although many battlefields are in danger of being lost forever, CWPT is making significant progress. In 2007 CWPT rescued more than 1,600 acres of hallowed ground at legendary battlefields like Champion Hill, Miss., Shiloh, Tenn., and Petersburg, Va. Since our creation two decades ago, CWPT has protected more than 25,000 acres at 99 sites in 18 states. Despite such successes, our work is far from done. We hope this report energizes both long-time supporters and new allies to continue the fight to protect and preserve these priceless treasures.

Yet, for anyone who has studied the American Civil War at all, you've heard of Antietam in Maryland. This significant battlefield is number one on their 'needs saving' list. The CWPT describes Antietam:

September 17, 1862
The bloodiest single day in American history, the Battle of Antietam ended the Confederacy’s first attempt to invade the North in a resounding fashion. Though the battle itself was tactically inconclusive in its outcome, the 23,000 casualties left behind by the fighting shocked the nation. Moreover, Antietam’s proximity to major northern population centers and their emerging photography industries allowed Americans to see for the first time the true horror of war through the aftermath of battle.

After my day spent listening to John Adam’s story in his own words, and told in such an intimate way as if someone from his times were talking to me – history isn’t something from another time, it is something connected to me. 1776 isn’t that far away from today. 1861 is even closer. My grandmother was born during Reconstruction. My mother grew up listening to Civil War veterans tell their stories. She saw the old soldiers make a life with missing arms, legs, hands, fingers, eyes…. There is a Civil War memorial in the center of my home town and a portion of the local cemetery devoted to Civil War soldiers.

If nothing else, I realize I’m connected to the past which gives me hope that I’ll be connected to the future. And what is most important – we must remember. In order to remember we must make an effort to preserve historic sites, papers, ephemera, diaries, letters – and make sure those from our era are also preserved. Take, for example those old copies of Harpers Weekly and the art (as included here) of Winslow Homer. Definitely worth preserving and learning more about.

History's Minor Moments

Whenever my brain freezes and I can't break a creative thought free of that ice flow, I turn to 'Moments in History. ' It amazes me how many diverse things happen through history on one particular date. Today I found the History Channel's "This Day in History."

On August 7, the dollar shrank. Literally got smaller. The treasury redesigned and issued the new currency that features many icons we recognize today. George Washington creates the first purple heart medal, Teddy Roosevelt is nominated by the Bull Moose Party, and keeping with a presidential theme -- tomorrow is the date Nixon resigned.

This is also the date in 1947, that the Kon-Tiki, a wooden raft captained by Norwegian anthropologist Thor Heyerdahl, completed its 4,300 mile journey from Peru to Raroia, near Tahiti.

I've had fantasies about becoming a travel writer. Exploring the world and writing about it. But never did I think that riding a wooden raft on the open ocean would be a fun thing.

I remember the hype and excitement when Heyerdahl built a second Kon-Tiki. Even then, it didn't make much sense to me. Obviously I was a minority in this attitude because the subsequent book became a best seller and Heyerdahl's documentary about the voyage became an Academy Award winning documentary in 1951. Little boys played cowboys and Indians, cops and robbers, and raft riding on the ocean in Kon-Tiki.

The raft was a copy of a an ancient Egyptian papyrus vessel and in 1969 Heyerdahl recreated the raft once again. I was a junior in high school. Truthfully I was much more interested in dating and boys, than in some old guy working with a Burundi tribe from Chad in Central Africa to build a replica of an even older raft. Sailing across the ocean to prove some theory about how people might have migrated from the main continent to the small islands. And, I couldn't comit to much more than a Saturday night date, let alone 101 days with six guys on a raft.

Of course if everyone felt as I did about safety and security and staying in familiar territory, we'd all still be living in the Garden of Eden....well, that doesn't necessarily sound like a bad thing. My point being that no one would have set out to find new lands, meet foreign cultures, or learn new ways of living.

We need risk takers, explorers, questioners, and planners, and what-if askers. It is a good thing, this diversity. If we were all jumping into the ocean on tiny rafts -- we'd look like a world of Lemings. And we all know what happened to them.

Maybe it was this little wooden raft that gave men the feeling of possibility. The possibility that led us to the moon and this past week to launch yet another exploration of Mars expedition. Although 'manned' by robotic type machines, this exploration isn't so much different than Heyerdahl's adventure. What else could we learn from past adventurers' and their explorations? It doesn't hurt to look backwards now and then. It thaws the brain and fills it with possibilities. What a great way to spend a hot August day. Almost as good as being there....

Beatles now selling diapers

One of the exciting, thrilling things about getting old is you've seen a lot of history. And being a student when Beatlemania first hit the world ranks right up there with Neil Armstrong's moon walk.

Today I get an email from my son saying, "News that might just ruin my day: The Beatles have sold licensing rights to use their song, All you Need is Love, to Luvs for a commercial. Doesn't that just make your day?"

Like his father, music is of prime importance to him. And also like his father, they are stalwart Beatles fans. Their tastes diverge from that point, but on that they agree. Beatles rock.

I remember the Beatles funky haircuts, their British appeal, their innocence and their smiles. I remember the Fab Four on the Ed Sullivan show -- I saw the show when it originally aired.

Lately I've been missing John and George and lamenting Paul's too public divorce while wondering what Ringo was up to. Almost like distant relatives, I think of them now and then. They played a major role in my formative years and changed the music landscape forever.

Now their music is used to pimp diapers. "All you need is Luvs...."

How the mighty have fallen!

My husband's response, "At least it isn't Michael Jackson who sold the song and will get the money."

One blogger commented that many of us thought the first Beatles song to be used to sell diapers would be When I'm 64 and the diapers would be Depends. Somehow I like the humor of that.

But "All you need is Luvs" just ruins, just overrides the thrill of a song that yes, I could actually remember the lyrics to, but more importantly it became a rallying cry for my generation who were sick of corporate greed, war, government, and wanted to get back to basics.

Now there will be a generation of kids who will associate that rallying cry to nappies, diapers, and baby poop.

Wikipedia describes the Beatles hit All You Need is Love this way:

"All You Need Is Love" is a song written by John Lennon with
contributions from Paul McCartney[1] and credited to Lennon/McCartney. It
was first performed by The Beatles on Our World, the first ever live global television link. Broadcast to 26 countries and watched by 350 million people, the programme was broadcast via satellite on June 25, 1967. The BBC had commissioned the Beatles to write a song for the UK's contribution and this was the result. It is among the most famous and significant songs performed by the group.

Now after the 60s has become a memory of druggies and flower children instead of a generation of activists, our music is reduced to sound tracks for commercials, who wins?

Corporate greed.

And that's the pits about getting old, you live long enough to see your life turned into a commercial.

Growing Old or Getting History

I have reached the age of graying hair, wrinkles (just a few around the eyes) and polite young people calling me ‘ma’am.’ I never thought I would hate polite. I do. For the longest time I would look over my shoulder, expecting to see my mother-in-law when someone respectfully called me Mrs. Goldsmith. Who me? No, really, I’m just Dawn. It had nothing to do with informality and everything to do with age. I was not ready to accept the matron title and the persona that went with it.

A couple years ago, I reluctantly admitted, there is now a bigger percentage of people younger than me, than older than me. It becomes more difficult to carry on conversations with nubile little check out clerks when I realize that my driver’s license is older than they are! School teachers look like students, I met the new Domestic Court Judge — I remember when he was born. I remember when he attended high school and played football with my sons and when he told his father, the farmer, that he wanted to go to law school. The kid in front of me in line at the grocery — he’s the new Methodist minister. That little girl is his wife!

These young faces surround me. At work I see a new face across from my desk and I realize it is a new coworker. He quickly supplies personal information. Age, 21. College graduate, all of three months. He’s getting married in six months. And I observe he probably doesn’t shave more than once a week. And he looks at me observing that, “you’re old enough to be my mother!” I really don’t like this kid.

Yet, I admire them for their fortitude. I wouldn’t want to be 21 again. I, for all my griping, like being where I am in life. The gray hair and wrinkles not withstanding, I like the wisdom that comes with age. I like knowing how it feels to be this age and I like knowing that I watched the moon landing on live TV and listened to Kennedy’s inaugural address and even saw the geyser, Old Faithful, in Yosemite while it was still so faithfully erupting. I saw this country before freeways. I know what it means to heat water on the stove and take Saturday night baths. I watched Gun Smoke before it was reruns in syndication. I saw M.A.S.H. the first time around. I was there for Vietnam. I protested and I sent my fiancé off to war. I sang the songs of Bob Dylan and Joan Baez when they meant something. I wore the original mini skirts and bell bottoms and platform shoes and wove flowers in my hair and mourned the kids that died at Kent State and watched the horrors of the war on nightly news. I was there when Kennedy was assassinated, when LBJ was sworn in, when Bobby and Martin died. When Teddy had his Chappiquiddick and Strom Thermon wasn’t all that old. I was there when women congressmen were different than the men. When they stood for something righteous and not for something lobbied for or lucrative. I was there when women first got maternity leave and when we burned bras and and and when we started becoming single mothers.

Getting old means I have a history – and I like that. I like that more than the wrinkles and title of ma’am.

Puzzling

In my previous blog posting, I mentioned jigsaw puzzles. They were popular in our house when I was growing up, and my husband still enjoys them. Although he has to fight off the cats who love to lay on the piece, push them off of the card table where he lays out his puzzles and stretch and roll around on the pieces he fits together until it all comes apart.

Seemed like Mom usually had a puzzle underway when we were still kids at home. I thought my girlfriend's mother was so clever when she glued the puzzles to a board and hung them as wall art.

One of my first Christmas presents was a puzzle of the United States, an example of a dissected map, I later learned. Other than this educational wooden U.S. map, my experience with puzzles have been of the cardboard variety.

It wasn't until I googled the topic that I realized what an interesting history these puzzles have and how many people collect and love them.

Daniel McAdam explained on the American Jigsaw Puzzle Society webpage that, "It is generally agreed the first jigsaw puzzle was produced around 1760 by John Spilsbury, a London engraver and mapmaker. Spilsbury mounted one of his maps on a sheet of hardwood and cut around the borders of the countries using a fine-bladed marquetry saw."

According to Anne D. Williams, puzzles became so popular at the turn of the 19th century that Parker Brothers stopped making games and devoted all of their efforts to producing puzzles. But, the real peak of puzzle consumption came during The Great Depression, again, according to Williams.

"With the onset of the Great Depression in 1929, puzzles for adults enjoyed
a resurgence of popularity, peaking in early 1933 when sales reached an
astounding 10 million per week. Puzzles seemed to touch a chord, offering an
escape from the troubled times, as well as an opportunity to succeed in a
modest way. Completing a jigsaw gave the puzzler a sense of accomplishment
that was hard to come by when the unemployment rate was climbing above 25
percent."

Out of the Great Depression came the Rolls Royce of puzzles, the Par Puzzles . These were uniquely designed with the buyer in mind, sometimes including their names cut into the pieces. Other puzzles featured various recognizable shaped pieces -- dogs, human figures, 4-leaf clovers....

Williams has amassed a collection of more than 8,000 puzzles and has written several books on the subject of jigsaw puzzles. Just this year she was awarded the Spilsbury Award by the Association of Games and Puzzle Collectors.

Puzzles seem an inexpensive item to collect and of course easy to find. And the type of puzzle collection seem endless. Whether choosing the topic featured on the front of the puzzle -- ancient art, light houses, famous faces -- to the materials such as wooden puzzles -- to the manufacturers. And Ms. Williams has put together the history as well as collection information for anyone interested.