News from Arsuk

So I guess my 50th class reunion is happening tonight.  I'll be elsewhere doing family stuff.  I wonder if the organizers of the event bothered to read through the biography I sent them?  The one with a return address of Arsuk, Greenland.

It would be grand if they actually tried to contact me there.  I'm not sure how they'd do this....although I suppose there is some sort of minimal internet access when the Northern Lights don't screw up the satellites.  

On the off chance they do track me down by more conventional means - and I'd tip my cap - I have kept up on news from Arsuk.  There's more going on up there than you'd expect.

For instance, in 1965 several huts from a Soviet polar research station just floated into Arsuk on an ice floe.  While abandoned they were in good shape and have been incorporated into the town!

A few years back participants in something called the World Harmony Run visited Arsuk and jogged around the community.  That probably didn't take too long.  They were welcomed by the Mayor and all 170 residents, who then treated them to a feast.  I hope it went well.  The World Harmony organization was started by an Indian guru and spiritual teacher.  I'm not sure if such beliefs allow the consumption of seal and walrus.  Anyway, here's a participant posing with the Mayor.

Although Arsuk has an airport of sorts the best way to reach it would probably be by ferry.  When that is actually working....  News from 2008...

The Arctic Umiaq Line ferry Sarfaq Ittuk was beset by ice off the southwest coast of Greenland on 23rd March with 37 passengers and 22 crewmembers aboard. The 73m long ferry finally freed herself from an ice flow on 27th March and continued to Arsuk, arriving the next day. She then continued to Paamiut and Nuuk. Due to the location and the wind direction, it was not possible for other ships to sail to the Sarfaq Ittuk’s assistance. The risk of such an attempt would likely result in two ships stuck in the ice rather than just one. Although inconvenienced and without internet or phone service, passengers on board were never in any danger and seemed to take the weather delay in their stride. Throughout the ordeal, Arctic Umiaq Line kept in contact with the crew and communicated the status of the vessel directly with passenger’s families back home. The company also provided regular updates to Facebook, showing pictures of passengers and crew playing games, reading and watching movies. The 238 passenger/22 crew capacity and 2,118gt Sarfaq Ittuk was built in 1992 and underwent a renovation and extension in the winter of 1999-2000.

The occasional stranding by ice notwithstanding, the  ferry to Arsuk sounds like fun.  This account of a traveler had all sorts of interesting details.  Anybody getting into passport trouble in Greenland and considering buying illegal seal pelt garments sounds like a kindred spirit.

Well, as Garrison Keillor would put it "That's the news from Arsuk".  In my mostly true bio I failed to mention that I actually appeared on the Prairie Home Companion program once.....

The attentive may have noticed that my "50 year" biography has some overlap with the Life and Times of Badger Trowelsworthy.   If my classmates try to track me down in Arsuk under my real name they'll get polite, if slightly confused responses.  As I've mentioned before, should you go there and ask after Badger Trowelsworthy you will be curtly ordered to leave immediately and never come back.

Little Rhody

An odd progression of seasons in 2024.  Usually spring arrives right about when I'm heading overseas on the annual archaeology jaunt.  The most dramatic consequence of this is that for the past fifteen years (other than the ##%%## Covid Times) I've missed our rhododendron bush in its roughly 72 hours of floral glory.  But this year:

Pretty impressive sight in late April.

In discussing the matter it came to light that I was confused regards the name.  I was pretty sure that it had to do with the Greek letter Rho.  Or....wasn't Cecil Rhodes - 19th century adventurer/scoundrel - associated with something wholesome?  

Actually, Rhododendron means "rose tree", which is a fair description.  I'm calling this one little because we've seen examples down in Cornwall that were nearly 100 feet tall.  Little Rhody is also of course a nick name for Rhode Island.  

Now, there is also a Greek island called Rhodes.  Once the location of the famous Colossus. And where did it get its name?  Some try to link it with the Greek rhodon which does mean rose.  After all roses still grow on Rhodes.  But actually, as with many Greek things there was a randy Greek god and a nymph involved, the latter named Rhode.  Guess it mostly worked out as she and Helios stayed together long enough to have her bear him seven sons.

I went looking for pictures of the large Rhodys we saw back in 2014 but instead came across this example that put ours to shame....

Oh, and Cecil Rhodes.  Tried to atone for his sundry misdeeds by establishing the Rhodes Scholar program.  Something that has been enjoyed by many future political animals and as such thus far hands off for those who would like to cancel the past.  

Yellowstone Bill

Well here he is, Yellowstone Bill.  And for good measure, the Famous East Side Cave where he resided for a while in the 1890's.  These are from a lengthy article in the Minneapolis papers from 1897.

I'm really not sure how much of the details of his life to believe, but here we go....

His real name was Martin Frank Walker.  He is described as youthful looking - despite being 58 years old - with a magnificent mustache and with dark hair flowing out from under a broad brimmed dark slouch hat.  He was born in Titusville, PA in 1839.  He left home "at an early age" and meandered about Wisconsin and Iowa for a time.  Eventually his family moved to Austin, Minnesota.  This could not have been before the mid 1850s.  But he did not stick around long, and after making a living giving horse breaking lessons for a dollar a pop he joined the Cadwell & Van Arnburg Circus for four years, working as an acrobat.  

He had to leave that career after fighting a duel with a fellow performer and, being the first one able to get out of the hospital decided to put some distance behind him.  It was now the early 1860's and he claims to have been a hunter and trapper in various far Western states, and to have been a scout under General Reno.  His fanciful tales of fighting Indians, while no doubt the hair raising stuff he told visitors to his cave home, are beyond plausible.

He left this life in 1877, returning to Austin, Minnesota briefly before traveling - reasons unspecified - through Asia and Europe.  He came to Minneapolis sometime thereafter, living on a houseboat.  By one account he decided to take it over St. Anthony Falls as a stunt, being later charged with animal cruelty when his dog drowned.  Another consequence was that his son was taken away from him it being considered that he was .."too wild a character"... to have charge of the boy.

Bill occupied the Famous East Side Cave intermittently, evidently for 12 full months on one occasion.  He is known to have lived there in 1893 when he was fined after his dog bit somebody.  He had it set up as a sort of museum/souvenir shop.  A few brief excerpts from the 1897 article should suffice to give the flavor of it.

"What first catches the eye in this big vault is the skin of a giant silver-tip grizzly, one of the finest skins of its kind in Minneapolis.  No mansion in the twin cities possesses a fur rug which could compare to it..."

"The collection of minerals, petrified woods, etc is very large and of considerable value.  There are a number of fine Bad Lands shells, petrified fish enameled, closely resembling mother of pearl and found in moss rocks......There are cave crystals and formations of rock of great beauty....a petrified piece of a mastodon's jaw....and what Walker says is the only petrified sea-snake's head ever found....and portions of a petrified turtle.  Walker says this turtle weighed a ton.  The Times reporter could not dispute the assertion."

Walker lived in the cave with his wife.  His two favorite horses also lived in there with them.  Here's one of them.

It is impossible to say how much this was played tongue in cheek.

Evidently in the late 1890's Yellowstone Bill left Minneapolis for parts uncertain.  In 1908 his son put an appeal in the paper looking for help finding a father he'd not seen in 17 years.  (This would seem to put the houseboat incident in 1891.  There was a partial reply suggesting that Bill had last been heard from in 1899 at which point he was in Northern Missouri and, very appropriately, engaged in the sale of hair remedies!*

I've tried to search online sources for more details, especially for an obituary.  So far without luck.

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* The houseboat incident seems a bit sketchy.  I did find reference to him living on a boat in April 1891.  It had been burglarized.  The location is given as being near the Bohemian Flats, which is basically right across the river from his later cave habitation.  So....did he bring the boat up through the locks to run it over The Falls?

The East Side Cave (Minneapolis) Revisited

Brewery cave posts have been scarce in recent years.  Honestly I think I've had a look at all that are to be found in a reasonable travel radius and without a degree of risk and trespass that I won't take.

But there are always new things to learn.  And in fact....I think I've been too hasty with my conclusions on a brewery cave in Minneapolis.  Here's what I wrote back in 2019....

A False Brewery Cave

My judgement was based to a considerable extent on this curious photo:

It is said to be The Great East Side Cave.  Other sources claimed it was used for beer storage.  Rather nonsensical at first glance.  Yes, there is a brewery to be seen, but it is on the other side of the Mississippi River, and Mueller and Heinrich were known to have their own extensive cave system.  Why haul it up hill, across the nearby bridge and then back down a fairly steep hill?

But I found an interesting article in a Minneapolis paper just after the turn of the century.  To summarize....

The cave has been known since the earliest settlement of the area, and presumably earlier by the Native inhabitants.  It was at times known as Walker's Cave.  Although a natural cave it pretty clearly has been modified and expanded by the human hand.  I have seen some suggestion that the white sand that made up the walls was at one point mined commercially.

The exact dimensions are a little hard to make out from the article, but it speaks of a 100 foot long main passage, then a right angle turn and another 85 feet.  

After various speculation about pre-settlement use of the place the article says something very specific....that it was used for 12 years as a beer storage cave.

That's actually plausible.  Oh, probably not by the Mueller and Heinrich brewery for reasons mentioned.  But there were two other early breweries in town that needed storage space.  And for geological reasons did not have it close at hand.

Minneapolis came to be because of St. Anthony Falls.  Great for mills and a decided deterrent for any travel further up the river.  It is also the point at which the river is eroding its bed into a deep ravine carved out of the native sandstone.  Upstream, where the John Orth and the Gottlieb Glueck breweries were located, they had no stone faces to excavate storage caves.  It is known that they had small caves dug in Nicollet Island, but these were frankly pretty insufficient spaces.  I could see the East Side Cave being used by one of them.  Probably in the 1870's when their earlier storage spaces became inadequate but before they got mechanical refrigeration in the 1880's.

As to the later history of the cave it was vacant for a while.  Then a sort of hermit named Yellowstone Bill moved in.  Here's a bit about him!

After Bill's departure the cave was used for a time to grow mushrooms.  At some point in the 20th century the entrance was either sealed off or more likely incorporated into the network of steam and utility tunnels that are to be found on the site.  With the location mentioned in the article - one block south of the Washington Avenue Bridge - I think that on my last visit back in 2019 I was standing right on the spot where the picture had been taken.

Note:  You'd think that a character as interesting as Yellowstone Bill would get a few more mentions in the papers of the day.  And you would be correct.  We'll have an extended visit with him shortly.  His restless spirit no doubt lingers in this very spot.

Beached Whale

So here's something I had not seen before.  And likely never will again.

Near one of the areas we fish at a 70 foot long Sperm Whale had run aground on the rocks just off shore.  Poor guy couldn't get free even with a rising tide.

Obviously this sort of thing draws a crowd.....

It's a weird sensation.  You want to do something to help.  Maybe have everyone wade out there, grab a fin and roll the poor beastie out into deeper water.  But of course, logically, an adult sperm whale of this size can weigh 45 tons, and there is nothing you can do to help them out of a situation like this.

We hung around a while.  Once the novelty wore off it felt rather sad.  On our way back up the beach a couple of sheriff's deputies in an ATV had gotten stuck in some loose sand.  Our party of hardy Midwesterners having plenty of experience with vehicles and snow drifts was happy to put a shoulder into things and help get them unstuck.  It made us feel a bit better after not being able to do anything at all for the whale.

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Update. Sadly, but predictably, the whale did not survive.  Evidently it was only 45 feet long.  I don't think that beach will be a popular destination in the next few warm, sunny days.

Return of the Nimrod

The Birkebeiner Ski race is familiar to people in Scandinavia, in northern Wisconsin, and among the cross country ski community in general.  It commemorates a turbulent time in medieval Norway when a royal baby named Haakon needed to be spirited away from some characters called Baglers, who wanted to bump him off as part of a dynastic war.  Brave warriors called Birkebeiners got on their skis and made good an escape, getting Haakon to safety.

The American Birkebeiner race up in Hayward Wisconsin celebrates this legend, with thousands of skiers participating in the most prestigious cross country ski race in North America.  There are always re-enactors to carry Haakon off to safety.

One of my kids who lives in the area has for years participated in a more light hearted aspect of "The Birkie".  One that has just a smidge of controversy here and there but no dynastic strife.  Well, maybe just a smidge of that too.  

The Giant Ski Race, where teams of six stalwarts on a single pair of giant skis, sprint down the main street of Hayward to the bemusement of spectators.  Last year he made an elaborate "mockumentary" of the event.  It was a full length feature film with a local movie theater doing the World Premier and all manner of nonsense.  In case you missed it:

After winning the event five times the Nimrods decided to hang it up.  So ends a mighty sports dynasty.  

Or does it?

Recently a trailer has dropped suggesting a Nimrod revival, something that involves the Legend of Haakon and the whole re-enactor thing.  Worth a couple minutes of your time if you don't have the leisure and a beverage in hand for the full length feature from a year ago.

Obviously much in the same tongue in cheek genre, but being a peripheral member of the Nimrod entourage I see some interesting things hinted at.  It appears that the role of Haakon is being played by one of my grand daughter's dolls.  An old nemesis of mine....Doll Baby.

Given Doll Baby's profound disdain for authority - at least that of grandpas - I suppose it was inevitable that Hollywood would be appealing.  I was wondering what DB had been up to.  Last communique I had was being ordered to get a Covid test around Christmas....

Will the Nimrods rise to the occasion saving both "Baby Haakon" and the Birkie in general (dangerously low snow amounts at press time).  Probably.  Will fame, fortune and a life on the silver screen turn Doll Baby into an insufferable brat?  Too late for that.  Far too late.

Giant Punks

Well there's something you don't see every day.  It's autumn and the Giant Pumpkin growers are having their annual festival in a nearby town.

Those are some massive 'punks.

A conventional sized punk for reference.

Various of the Giant Punksters seem to have offices.  This is the Halloween Queen.  I also saw special chairs for the Pumpkin Master and Squash Master.  

Almost like gang colors.  Orange of course.  That's the weigh in station.  The forklift deposits them with a special sling.  The one just put on the scale was only 582 pounds.

Even getting the mighty vegetables onto the competition grounds is quite the operation.

Giant pumpkins have fascinated me for years.  The one time I attempted to grow them I got a measly 100 pounder.  I should not have been surprised.  I understand that each Giant takes 10 hours a week of your time and ridiculous amounts of garden space and water.  My little community garden plot was not going to suffice.

You'd think I'd have learned, but as my recent experience with Giant Leeks has shown, indeed I have not.  I got one batch of leek onion soup for my efforts.  I wonder how many pumpkin pies you can get from today's winning entry, which I understand weighed just over a ton!?

Barbenheimer Anticipated

Many, many years ago when I was doing combat robots with one of my sons we dabbled in assorted comic relief ventures.  Mostly Barbie Jeeps with weaponry.

Given the recent cross over interest between Barbie and Oppenheimer I think we were prophetic. Although our version of Barbie Land does seem a bit more "Mad Maxine"

 

 

Vindolanda 2023 - Day Six

In any two week excavating block you can expect to lose one day to rain.  This was it.  The decision is made with variable concern for excavators slipping and sliding and for the quality of archaeology that is actually possible when everything turns to mud before your eyes.  Sigh.  Maybe tomorrow, but it is likely we'll be back on higher and dryer spots such as roads and ramparts for a bit.

Oh well, time to tidy up a few loose ends.

Last year I was there when my digging pal Dylan made a remarkable find.  I promised him a picture of its new home in the site museum.  "Da iawn Dylan!"

Yesterday was a day off and we had an 8 mile walkabout with the Usual Suspects.  I try to capture what I call the "Seventies Album Cover" photo every year.  Here we are with a Neolithic standing stone.

And, with hopes tempered by realism, here's a shot this morning of about where I hope to be excavating tomorrow....

Detritus and Victorian Scandal at Gilsland Spa

For part of my stay in northern England I was outside the village of Gilsland.  It is a community that reminds one of a kid wearing hand me down clothes a couple of sizes too big.  This often happens when early prosperity and popularity wane.  You end up with shops, homes and public spaces grander than a farm based economy would seem to require.  

Usually it is something along the lines of a mine or factory closing down.  But in the case of Gilsland it reflects the fact that people no longer travel to rustic settings to "take the waters".

It is my intent to show rather than describe the history, but in brief here's what happened.  In the  1700's it was noted that there were mineral springs along the scenic River Irthing.  Entrepreneurs established hostelries and upper class folks started coming to promenade the grounds, drink and bath in mineral infused waters, meet like minded folk, etc.  A tiny hamlet nearby was renamed Gilsland and a rail station was established.  (Since discontinued, and they are still steamed about it).  

The spa just north of town had its heyday in the 19th and early 20th century.  As the latter century rolled on an assortment of other functions were also tried.  It was a hospital for servicemen in WW I.  A maternity hospital, presumably for evacuated families, in WW II.  I've heard it was a mental health facility for a while.  

There were ongoing attempts to revive it as a high end spa.  Superficially this makes sense, as people with disposable income still seem inclined towards yoga, crystals, mudpacks, massages and so forth.  But economically it is a white elephant....a huge building that must cost a fortune to heat and cool.  And it was competing in a world where global travel had become cheap and easy.  If you are going to be pampered why not do it in tropical splendor somewhere?

So Gilsland Spa is now closed, in limbo while the latest in a succession of owners tries to find a viable use for it.  

But the grounds are open, and strolling about is actually encouraged.  Come along on a journey of discovery.  Your reward for making it to the end will be an enigmatic bit of salacious Victorian mystery featuring Sir Walter Scott.

The main spa building, May of 2022.  There were earlier structures that have not survived the test of time. 

For those so inclined, and of course that would be me, the sulphur spring is still trickling forth.  The stuff smells like rotten eggs but actually tastes....well also like rotten eggs.

I like the small discoveries.  The original pipe would have been metal and would have caked up with gunk all the time.  The new one is plastic.  See also the stone font suggesting a latter day renovation.  Somewhere up the slope is another spring this one of iron containing "Chalybete" waters.  I should have done a bit more research in advance of my trip, a taste comparison would be in order.

Very pretty paths and a view of the river.  You could once sit and contemplate.  The remaining ghosts who still do so probably find this bench to be just fine, thanks.

Near the river I came across this....the ruins of a big swimming pool.  I assume it was for bathing in the "waters".  I was also doing a bit of geocaching and I'm pleased to report that a cache was hidden in here.

This seems to be some sort of pump house designed to bring water up to the main hotel on the ridge above.  Oddly it is not close to the mineral springs but to the river.  Maybe plain old river water is healthy too.

OK, lets get right to it.  The most interesting spot on the grounds of the Gilsland Spa is the Popping Stone.  Supposedly this is a particularly romantic spot where Victorian era gents would take the objects of their affections and sit them down on the stone....then propose marriage.  Most famously this was done by Sir Walter Scott, in 1797, long before he was a literary figure. 

There is actually a lot more to the story, and I refer you to this excellent source for a comprehensive discussion.   Basically the "Popping Stone" became famous by obscure means.  The story of Walter Scott's successful Proposal did not come to light until long after the event.  Indeed, the Popping Stone is not alluded to until 1841 or specifically named in print until the 1860s, some 70 years after the future Mrs. Scott said yes.  But is it a complete fiction, made up by hotel proprietors?

Probably not.  It seems likely that the story of the stone built on an unwritten earlier tradition that was a bit saucy for its times.  The key elements being:

1. This spot is not anywhere near the main grounds of the hotel(s).  No, you and your lady friend would be taking a long trek to a very secluded spot.  A spot indeed where it would be nearly impossible for anyone to come upon you unawares.

2. There was also a nearby hawthorn tree of considerable antiquity.  It was called "The Kissing Bush".

3. The Popping stone has undergone various changes over the course of its notoriety.  It is unclear whether its current configuration - two smaller round boulders at the base of a longer, oblong one - has been altered to make it less phallic in its appearance or more so!

Here it is in May of 2022.  I'll let you decide.

All things considered the Popping Stone does seem more like a place where romantically inclined couples might retreat for a decidedly non Victorian tryst.  After being helped over numerous high and low spots on the winding riverside trail a maiden of pristine virtue would have had plenty of opportunities to raise questions about their destination.  Then, after a brief stop at the Kissing Bush, the arrival at a scenic, secluded glade featuring a gigantic phallus would have obvious implications.  Oh, I don't doubt plenty of engagements happened on this spot, but how many one wonders were of the "Make an Honest Woman of Her" variety!

As I was traveling solo on this trip - my first day in England actually being our 40th Wedding Anniversary - I felt obligated to attempt a selfie on bended knee with The Popping Stone in the background.  I'm quite sentimental after all.

Minor League Baseball 2021 - Cedar Rapids brings the A Game

After our visit to the Twins Triple A club in St. Paul it was time for a drive down to Cedar Rapids Iowa to take in a game at the lower "A" level of ball.  This has become our favorite destination on these road trips.  

On the drive down the car thermometer hit 101 degrees.  Frivolous side trips should have been curtailed but were not, so we arrived parched and a bit loopy.  A thunderstorm brushed the edge of town cooling things off a bit and giving the sky a nice color as the sun finally stopped blasting UV for the day.

They must be used to this sort of thing.  Here's something I'd not seen before...a jumbo sunscreen dispenser!

We had not been to a ballgame in several years.  Heck, as the pandemic wanes I can look back and say I have not been anywhere really for 16 months.  So perhaps I was tuned in a bit more to how different it is being out in the world.  More things struck me as unusual.

The Cedar Rapids Kernels play at Veteran's Memorial Stadium.  It is a nice, well kept up stadium.  Parking is free.  And the lot is under the watchful security of a couple of decommissioned tanks.

The National Anthem was played by a high school brass ensemble called Heavy Metal Tubas.  It was appropriate.  Somber, majestic, respectful.  My only minor quibble is that I prefer to sing along and this was a rendition that made you stand a little straighter, think of traditions and just listen.

At the higher level AAA club the fans were into party mode.  That's fine, it has been a long lockdown and minor league ball had just gone from 40% capacity to full.  At Cedar Rapids people were also having a good time but these are serious fans.  When the umpire called a Kernels player out on a dubious 3rd strike there were howls of indignation and boos.  This for the first batter of the first inning!  

Having driven through triple digit heat we arrived plenty thirsty.  This is not what you want as your first view of the concessions....

A number of the food and drink outlets were not open for our Thursday night game.  Regards the latter they seem to have significant extra capacity.  I assume this is because every Friday night game is two for one beer night.  Plenty of options were available at the stands that were open.  I got a large, sprawling barbeque sandwich from a vendor with a pig tattooed on his arm.  And a beer from a wild looking character whose name tag simply had BEER GUY scribbled on in black Sharpie.

It was a good game.  The home team faltered early, steadied themselves and then rallied for 9 unanswered runs late.  

I would not be doing my job as a roving observer of the American scene if I did not check in on an old friend....Mr. Shucks.  Since we first met 8 years ago I assume that the person in the suit has changed.  But were they up to the high standards of Shucks?  Did they fill those gigantic red shoes well?

Yes.  Yes indeed.  The current Shucks was a worthy successor.  He or she was stuck inside a suit with minimal visibility and which must be a portable kiln even on temperate days.  But as ever, Shucks worked the crowd, hugged small children (or kept a distance from the frightened ones), participated with enthusiasm in various small between innings antics, stood atop the dugout to cheer on a Kernels rally....and so forth.

And even posed for fan pics with slightly deranged elderly patrons.

Cedar Rapids was a fun stop.  I suggest you take in a Kernels game if you find yourself within reasonable proximity.  The team is OK,  currently about .500.  But the food and drink are excellent.  And Mr. Shucks remains - unchallenged as I see it - the Best Mascot in Baseball.

An American Doughboy - Still Standing....for now.

Road trips are an excellent way to discover new things.  But there are disadvantages too.  When just "passing through" you sometimes have to get your photos on a day when conditions are not ideal.  As for instance with this interesting monument adjacent to the "Janesville 99" memorial we visited last time.

It is a World War I monument, and actually the dark, swirling clouds above do a decent job of bringing to mind the smoke and hellfire of trench warfare.  The Doughboy is standing defiant, rifle in one hand, grenade held high in the other.  The detail work is very nice, notice the little touches such as the barbed wire near his feet.

I learned that this was one of a large series of such statues from the 1920s and 30s.  Here's another image of one taken by someone blessed with better equipment, eye and weather conditions.

When I got up on tiptoes to photograph the leggings and barbed wire I noticed this plaque, a helpful clue to the history of these sculptures.

As it happens there already exists a website and a related Facebook group dedicated to the history of these "Spirit of the American Doughboy" memorials as created* by an interesting character named Ernest Moore Viquesney.  In brief, these were commercially produced in the decades after The Great War, and found considerable favor as memorials that were generally placed in public spaces with the support of, and in honor of, American WW I veterans.  Approximately 140 are known to exist, although some have not survived the passage of time and perhaps a few are yet to be found in some dusty corner of a storage building.

The majority of known Doughboys, approximately 120, are made of thin sheets of bronze welded together.  Thus they are much lighter and more damage prone than what an equivalent solid bronze statue would be.  Of course this made them far more affordable, and Viquesney was very much of mercantile inclinations.  At least three were done in stone.  And in 1934 due to the economic hard times of the Depression, a version made of cheaper zinc was marketed.  At only $700 each he continued to sell a few although in dwindling numbers as the shadows of a new war grew and as memories of the last one perhaps faded.  Production ended in 1942, at a time when there was likely no extra metal of any kind available.

I do recommend the site linked above.  It is encyclopedic and a fine example of what dedicated amateur historians can accomplish.  It is in its own way a memorial to a time when a scholarly pride in our nation's accomplishments was much in evidence.

The Doughboy Monuments are mostly still in place.  But over the years a dozen or so have suffered vandalism and a few have vanished altogether.  The vandals have been a mixed lot.  The statues are not nearly as sturdy as they look, and not a few drunkards have been very sure they could swing from an arm or from that extended rifle.  A few have been more systematically savaged by people with obscure political motives or by illicit metal scrappers.  Some of the latter have been badly disappointed by the zinc composition and the thin plating of the later versions.  

But what of today?  Is there much left of that "scholarly pride" in our past these days?  Alas I fear not.  

We've had considerable unrest in recent weeks.  Peaceful protests have mutated into something uglier.  Statues commemorating Confederate leaders have been targeted widely, and with at least some logic.  From there it takes so little to throw the ropes and start pulling down figures with ambiguous status.  Columbus, Jefferson.....even The Great Emancipator himself.  And when no convenient target can be brought down by the jeering mob, well, any statue will do.  At least three Doughboys have been damaged since the Floyd protests began in May of 2020.  

Here is the best documented and perhaps saddest example.  Birmingham Alabama, May 31st.  A mob attacks the Confederate Obelisk in a public park.  It proves too sturdy for their engineering abilities, which are likely as rudimentary as other aspects of their education.  

No problem.  Here's another statue.  Let's Mess It Up.

Immediately thereafter both the Confederate Obelisk and the Doughboy were taken down by the City of Birmingham, whose Mayor had actually participated in the protests although not in the defacement of the monuments.

That the Obelisk should go is palatable.  There are mechanisms by which such decisions can be deliberated and done in a proper fashion.  No doubt there are on the one side firebrands who would advocate immediate dynamiting and stubborn obstructionists who would like to continue to enshrine aspects of our history that are no longer considered noble and good.  Our society always functions best when Progress and Conservation can meet, often uneasily, and compromise.

But the Doughboy was just a target of convenience.

I consider World War One to be our last idealistic war.  We took up arms for others, in a conflict that did not directly impact our nation's security.  We fought for the subjugated and abused citizens of Belgium.  We fought for Freedom of the Seas.  We fought because small nations should not be ground under the heel of mighty empires.  Try as I can to appreciate the peculiar mind set of our modern Visigoths I can't see much racism involved in it.  In fact we joined an alliance where black and asian colonial troops were fighting and dying for Ideals, while looking ahead to the eventual freedom that always seems to result when brave men prove they are the equal of their nominal "masters".

The Birmingham Doughboy is now safe somewhere and supposedly will be cleaned up, repaired and restored to his pedestal.  I hope you'll forgive me if the cynicism of these ignorant times has given me doubts as to whether that will in fact ever happen.

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* I will by convention give Viquesney credit for these statues, but the true story of the artists and craftsmen involved is complex and best addressed by the Viquesney website.  I again recommend it.

Time and Space Capsule - Astronaut Cards

Another set of peculiar artifacts from our fall attic cleaning.  This is a series of trading cards from 1963 that celebrate the astronauts of the Mercury Program.  It took me a while to figure out why I found them so fascinating.  I decided that they were from such a different time for us culturally.  We once had Heroes who became celebrities based on their accomplishments.  In these lesser times we mostly just have Celebrities trying to pose as heroes without accomplishments.

There were seven astronauts in the initial group.  They were referred to as "The Mercury Seven".  Here are the three most famous ones.

Of course John Glenn became the household name.  Fighter pilot in WWII and Korea (where he shot down 3 Migs), he made the first US orbital flight.

Virgil (Gus) Grissom was another Korean War fighter pilot.  After flights in both Mercury and Gemini spacecraft he was scheduled to command Apollo I.  But died in the tragic launch pad fire of January 27, 1967.

Alan Shepard was a WWII veteran of the surface Navy, later a test pilot.  He took up the first manned Mercury flight, a suborbital one.  He then had to wait ten years as an inner ear problem grounded him.  It seems as if it was worth it, as the Commander of Apollo 14 he became the fifth, and oldest man to walk on the moon.

There is a separate card that indexes the 55 card set.

The series comes in two versions.  One has a sort of 3D picture on the back.  The other, less common one, was a give away with Popsicles.

This seems to be one of the more valuable ones.  I guess everyone loves monkeys.

It's hard to imagine in these later and lesser times that anyone could become famous and admired with a visibly receding hairline and irregular teeth.  Its another facet of Celebrity sans Accomplishments.  There's nothing wrong with looking good.  It's just that in a sturdier era your looks were really not a deciding factor.

Alan Shepard 1923-1998

Plague Stone

Last time I mentioned that on a visit to Penrith the author Daniel Defoe inspected various historic features including The Giant's Grave.  I wonder, no, I quite suspect, that he might have visited another obscure site on the edge of town.

This is a Plague Stone, to be found on what would have been the outskirts of the community.

Some background is needed here.  Penrith being a border town in the north of England had to endure frequent unrest due to uprisings of Scots, Rievers and assorted ruffians.  Unfair as it may seem, they also had periodic bouts of Bubonic Plague.  The most serious episode occurred over 1597 and 1598.  About one third of the population perished, with the victims ranging from the heir to the local Lordship down to the humblest of citizens.

There was at the time some understanding of contagion, and this posed a problem.  In towns you had money, a need for food....but you also had the Plague.  In the thinly populated countryside you had food, usually little or no Plague, but also.... no money.  Markets were closed for obvious reasons.

The answer was to set up Plague Stones at the edges of towns.  These were stones with carved hollows in the top.  The depression would be filled with vinegar, thought to be an antiseptic.  Townspeople would approach, put their coins into the vinegar, then step back.  Farmers would come, take the money, and leave produce.  A rather effective triumph of capitalism if you think about it.

Here I am pretending to toss a coin or two in, expecting lunch to turn up.

Surprisingly it did.  A nearby house keeps chickens and despite the presence of a busy road behind me they were allowed to be loose.  They promptly marched over to see what I was up to.

mmmm, Chicken dinner...

No, I did not have a nice lunch at their expense, I doubt the local magistrate would have been impressed by my knowledge of local history.  But lets get back to Daniel Defoe for a moment.

Defoe has possibly the greatest biography of any writer ever.  He was a merchant and a ship owner.  For a while he owned civet cats to make perfume.  He spent time in prison for both his problematic political beliefs and his frequent debts. He at various times ran a brick factory and was appointed a government inspector deputized to collect the tax on bottles. He is known to have been a spy for King William III.  He wrote on an amazing range of topics using 198 known pseudonyms.  When he died of "lethargy" in 1731 he was probably hiding out from his creditors.

Defoe is of course best known for Robinson Crusoe, but he wrote many other memorable tales including Moll Flanders.  Two of his lesser known works have a bearing on our tale.

Between 1724 and 1727 he penned "A Tour Thro' the Whole Island of Great Britain", a very early form of travel literature.  In it he describes Penrith in detail.  He is known to have visited at an unclear date; many entries in the Tour seemingly based on his earlier journeys as a merchant.

In 1722 he had published "A Journal of the Plague Year".  In it is contained a highly detailed account of the London Plague of 1665. Now Defoe was only five years old at the time and was evacuated from the city quite promptly.  His narrator for the tale is listed as the enigmatic "H.F.".  This is generally considered to be his uncle Henry Foe. Perhaps nephew Daniel had access to an unknown memoir, although other interesting theories have been put forward including one that has DeFoe coming into possession of the contemporary diary of Samual Pepys and managing to break the encryption in which it was written!

The Bubonic Plague must to have fascinated Defoe; it is a topic he touched upon often prior to writing his "Journal" (if we assume it is at least partly his creation).  So I assume he would have to be interested in a Plague Stone when he visited Penrith.

Does the concept make it into his writing?

Yep.  

"It is true, People us'd all possible Precaution, when any one bought a Joint of Meat in the Market, they would not take it of the Butcher's Hand, but take it off of the Hooks themselves.  On the other Hand, the Butcher would not touch the Money, but have it put into a Pot full of Vinegar which he kept for that purpose.  The Buyer carry'd always small Money to make up any odd Sum, that they might take no Change."

Plague Stones appear to be reasonably common in England.  At least stones for which the claim is made are common.  Some are just hollowed out rocks.  Others, such as the Penrith example, are early cross bases repurposed for this role.  Likely the Penrith specimen originated at the same church where Defoe viewed The Giant's Grave.