It's been a few years since I made a snowman with grand kids. In a warm stretch a couple weeks ago the latest addition to the family and I got out and built one in the front yard. An odd late January thaw hit it hard. Seasons. They come and go unpredictably.
Interesting times politically. Some people are happy, some unhappy. But there is certainly change in the air. One thing that happens with every new administration is that political appointees are expected to tender their resignations. Which are almost always accepted. Ah, but what about other government employees, the theoretically non partisan ones? It can be a lot more work to move them out. It's simply hard to fire people in Washington D.C.
So, many of them just keep their jobs. But if the new administration really does not like you or your work, they can always reassign you somewhere else. Alaska gets mentioned. As does Iowa. I've been to both places and they are just fine. Well, not Alaska in the winter I guess.
But if you want to send a pesky bureaucrat off to the farthest reaches of American territory, off somewhere so remote that you won't hear from them again, I suggest Kingman Reef.
Never heard of it? Well, its the smallest piece of real estate under the US flag. It has much nicer weather than Alaska, and sandy beaches that would be the envy of Iowans.
It is about halfway between Hawaii and American Samoa. So my Off the Map tag is apt.
Even for an out of the way spot it did not get noticed for a long time. An American sea captain discovered it in 1798. I assume this was related to whaling, back in the Moby Dick era its about the only reason people were out that far into the South Pacific. Another captain named Kingman got around to actually describing it in 1853. He named it after himself.
Now, I've mentioned the Guano Act a few times before. Big thick layers of seabird droppings were a serious commodity in the 19th century. Great stuff for fertilizer. Also for high explosives. So its no surprise that the United States Guano Company claimed Kingman Reef in 1856. The fact that there was no actual guano there was considered a technicality.
Not much happened after that. Occasionally a ship would run aground.
Then in 1922 a certain Lorrin A. Thurston showed up and read a Proclamation declaring the Reef to be American territory. He seems like a bit of a character. In addition to various business ventures he was a "volcano enthusiast" and was deeply involved in the overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy. One assumes he brought along a flag to raise.
And that's about it. It was very briefly used as a stop over for Pan Am clipper "flying boats" until a fatal crash. Today it is a wild life preserve. Nobody lives there or in fact, is allowed to visit.
The entire island is 3 feet above water and a little over seven acres in size.
It seems a pleasant enough place to relocate pesky bureaucrats whose job performance is deemed execrable. They certainly can't cause much mischief there, and at last there would be a bit of guano being generated, although the United States Guano Company has long since gone bankrupt.
It's been a while since my last "Time Capsule" post that looks at random artifacts that have found their way to me. Given the degree of decluttering that is actually necessary I should be finding things like this on a daily basis.
Here's a classic:
We had this in a frame of uncertain vintage. When it was removed it had a strip of thicker cardboard across the top, identifying it as part of a calendar. Of course lacking the helpful dates.
So what can we learn here?
This is a print, of an original from 1903. The artist, Cassius Marcellus Coolidge, would also have to be considered an original. His bio is worth a quick read. In addition to being a painter he was at various times a cartoonist, a druggist, and tried to start both a bank and a newspaper. Sometime in the 1890's he started painting pictures of dogs doing human things.
He became popular after the turn of the century, mostly thanks to the efforts of the Brown and Bigelow company of St. Paul, Minnesota. Lets zoom in on the picture, shall we?
Brown and Bigelow was founded in 1896. They were, still are in fact, an advertising firm. In 1903 they commissioned C.M. Coolidge - "Kash" to his friends - to paint a series of sixteen"Dogs" for their use. The mutts do more than play cards. They go dancing, play baseball, smoke and drink, appear in court. They are whimsical in the best of ways....we see ourselves in our Best Friends. Two of the original oil paintings in the series were sold as a pair in 2006....for $590,000! "Poker Game", an 1894 version that predates the Brown and Bigelow series did even better. It got $658,000 when it sold at Sotheby's of New York in 2015.
I was hoping for additional clues on the back of my specimen, but alas this was not to be. From the size, the cardboard edging on the top, and the general condition, I'd say what I have is the image cut off the top of a calendar from the 1950's or 60's. Something like this:
Another, albeit smaller degree of lasting fame goes to one of the earliest internet viral videos, Ultimate Dog Tease. If you've not seen it, well here it is. Its in the same spirit as the poker pups...
Time for another "day by day" report. We continue to have members out for illness....
Monday
An odd day. School was out for teacher's in-service but we could have practice afterwards. Three of our really dedicated students took the opportunity to come in during the morning and help one of the tech ed teachers get up to speed with the cnc router the team purchased and donated to the school. Best way to do that was to make more parts.
For the actual build session, things coming together nicely.
Tuesday
School and practice cancelled, as it was Ice Age level cold.
Wednesday
We usually don't meet this day of the week, but this year's team is not easily deterred. A small crew, made smaller by the bothersome wave of illness going through the community, came in for an extra session. Their goal was to get the elevator rigged and operational. And they got it close, although there are some pesky friction points somewhere yet to be found.
If you are coming to this story late, here's the tale of Murder in Old Chippewa Falls from the start:
Part Four - Escape and Recapture
Felix Fourboul Junior was convicted of second degree manslaughter and sentenced to seven years in the State Penitentiary. He was released after four.
It seems a light punishment for patricide, and the matter of escaping from jail seems to have just been ignored. Some newspaper accounts actually sounded a bit admiring! From time to time there were reports on his life in prison, as in this short bit from 1915.
Mrs. Fourboul vanishes from view. From an off hand remark by her step son it sounds as if she was from Canada. With poor health and no remaining ties to Chippewa Falls I suspect she went back there.
As mentioned earlier Orrin Fuller, the apparent brains behind the jail break, was also never heard from again. He must have been a resourceful fellow. His would be a story well worth the knowing and the telling.
Mrs. Alice Bertrand also gets no further mention in the local papers. Bertrand is a common enough name in this town, so perhaps the various other Mrs. Bertrands were just being precise when they always listed their first initial. Or, given the allegations, perhaps they wanted it known that they were certainly not THAT Mrs. Bertrand. There is an Alice Bertrand, nee Germain, buried in Chippewa Falls. She lived from 1877 - 1971. This would make her 28 at the time of these events, so the servant girl might have been onto something with her suspicions.
So what ever became of Felix Fourboul Junior? I wish I could tell you. I find no burial record in either the US or Canada. Newspaper archives are always hit and miss, but essentially I find no mention of a Felix Fourboul anywhere in North America following the events of this story. Its an unusual enough name that changing it to something simpler, and ditching connection to a sordid past, would only be sensible. Essentially Felix did his time, then appeared at the offices of the Chippewa Independent on October 20, 1915. He paid the bill for the paper he had been receiving while imprisoned, walked out the door and vanished to history. As it happens, his is only the second most remarkable escape from the Chippewa Falls Jail, but that's a story for another day.
And Felix Senior? He also makes a final appearance in 1915. After a fashion. In an article describing the need for a new courthouse much is made of the crowded and dilapidated state of things. I don't know what to add to this quote:
It's January. So of course it has been darned cold lately. It's even been moderately unpleasant in the UK, which has prompted at least one of my friends to jaunt off to the warmth of the Canary Islands.
Oddly, while there are canaries on the Canary Islands, the bird is named after the location, not the other way around. While the islands are named after dogs. Maybe.
The islands have been known, if not known well, from far into antiquity. It would be hard to miss them, as the ones nearest to the African coast are visible from same on clear days. Exactly who came and went - Greeks, Phoenicians, etc. - is somewhat obscure, but the Romans for sure were there for a while at least to do a bit of trading with the locals and collect material for making dye. They were called the "The Fortunate Isles" in Classical Texts, although it is the Latin Canarie Insulae, or Island of the Dogs, that has stuck.
Was it a reference to actual dogs? Maybe, they do get around. Or as some speculate to monk seals, aka "sea dogs", which laze around on the beach in a fashion not without parallel in modern British tourists.
And to be clear to my wide traveling friend Anthea, not trying to draw any direct comparison.
It got me thinking about how the Latin word for dog has not survived much into our modern world. Maybe that which is right at our elbow becomes familiar and naturally picks up new names in every culture.
"Dog" is suggested to come from "docga" a middle English word that is somewhat suspiciously described as "rare". It nudged out the Germanic word "hund", still current in that language and which survives as "hound".
When conversing about our dog Hank I try to use words other than dog, as he knows that one. Some of the other terms and their origins:
"Cur" from the Low German "korren". The name is said to be echoic, which means it imitates the growling of a dog.
"Mutt", seems to be a shortened version of "mutton head", a term less used with changing diets, but designating a dummy with either two or four legs.
"Mongrel" sounds a little unkind, but other than the Latin is perhaps the oldest word of the lot. It comes from Proto-German "managjan", which meant to mix together. Eventually this went through Old English "gemong" and gave us both "among" and "mingling. The Modern German word "mischling" to mean a mixture of various dog genetics preserves this long and distinguished concept.
Anyway. It's cold. The dog wants to go out anyway, and I wish I were on a tropical island off the coast of Africa looking at these cute little birds. I'd try to not annoy my fellow beach lollers with etymology lectures. It's not what they are there for.
When doing my weekly updates on the hectic FIRST robotics build season I sometimes go back to previous years....where were we at? How confident did I sound? It can be sobering...
So here's a few images from Week Two (of practically speaking, five) to get 'er done.
In the background are various other things including the field element we interact with and the two main manipulator devices in prototypical form.
