April's Reminder to Enjoy Poetry

Photo credit:  Lyn Fenwick

 I don't know who is authorized to declare such things as "April is Poetry Month,...,"  but it raises a question that sounds like something Billy Collins might use to start a poem.

"It occurred to me

on a flight from London to Barcelona

that Shakespeare could have written

'This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England'

with more authority had he occupied

the window seat next to me

instead of this businessman from Frankfurt."

Excerpt from The Bard in Flight

Robert Frost said, "A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness."  However, not every poet finds inspiration in the same way.

Photo credit:  Lyn Fenwick, "Day After the 4th of July, Waiting for the Trash Man" 

In 1955, Beat Poet Allen Ginsberg was inspired to write "A Supermarket in California."

"What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked

down the side streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious

looking at the full moon.

In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the 

neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!"

Ginsberg's inspiration may not have been so different from that of Langston Hughes, who said, "I tried to write poems like the songs they sang on Seventh Street...," the block in Harlem where Hughes lived in NYC.

New Generations

Years ago, my husband and I went to a poetry reading where we heard Maxine Kumin read, and in her book that I bought that day is a poem titled, "For My Great-Grandfather:  A message Long Overdue,"  in which she describes the inspiration for the poem.

"...Great-Grandfather, old blue-eyes fox of foxes,

I have three pages of you.  That is all.

1895.  A three-page letter

from Newport News, Virginia, written

on your bleached-out bills of sale under the stern

heading:  Rosenberg The Tailor, Debtor,

A Full Line of Goods Of All The Latest In

Suiting And Pants.  My mother has just been born.

~   *   ~

You write to thank your daughter for the picture

of that sixth grandchild.  There are six more to come."

When I determined to share the journal of Kansas homesteader Isaac Werner at the center of history of the Populist Movement, it was a poem by Walt Whitman that inspired the structure of my book, "Prairie Bachelor."  Isaac's journal did not inspire me to write a poem, but a poet inspired me to structure the history of the Populist Movement through the eyes of a forgotten Kansas homesteader, and to begin the book with a funeral.

Photo credit:  Lyn Fenwick

Poetry comes in many forms, as the short selections I have chosen for this blog illustrate, and poems touch our lives in many ways.  Not everyone appreciates the same poems, nor must each person experience the same poem in the same way.  In his poem, "Music," Ralph Waldo Emerson finds music

"...not only in the rose."

"It is not only in the bird,

Nor only where the rainbow glows,

Nor in the song of a woman heard,

But in the darkest, meanest things

There alway, alway something sings."

Whatever poetry you enjoy, the annual reminder each April offers the opportunity to pull those neglected poetry books off the bookcase.  A poem might be just what you need during this unnatural season of Covid isolation. 

    

What Songs Can Reveal in Today's World

 

Reproduction of an old player

After last week's post, I discovered in the NYT's online newspaper an informative article that fits well with last week's blog.  (See credits to authors, producer, and animation at the end of this blog.)  It also analyzes the changes in popular music, but it starts with the 1960s, pointing out the structure of songs:  Verse sets the scene; Pre-chorus builds tension; Chorus reaches climax; and cycle begins again.  As an example, they use "Natural Woman," by Aretha Franklin.

An antique cabinet for record albums

According to their analysis, things began to shift in the 2010s.  Certainly in my blog these changes are apparent, but I did not attempt to analyze or interpret  those changes.  The authors suggest expectable generational change + digitalization + less top-down control of the industry + the new streaming economy.  Think back to last week's more recent songs as containing some of the trends these authors describe:  The traditional musician structure is gone; in its place are word repetition and rhyme, and something they refer to as "the hook" is used to draw listeners back.

Album storage might include a radio show

They also suggest a variety of changes that have impacted music, starting with the electronic ability to make music at home, without expensive studios or agents.  Today musicians are generally paid by how often they are listened to on the current formats, in contrast to musicians of the past being paid on the basis of album sales.  They also mention that songs are generally shorter, with length not tied to what is required for a vinyl recording.

:

Or, the album might hold Columbia or Decca

They close their article with a reminder that before the 1960s the structure of popular songs followed an AABA pattern, citing "Over the Rainbow" as an example.

That reference made me think of those modern day collectors of "Vinyl," who admire the quality and sound of old vinyl records, which sent me in search of the photographs used in this blog.

Every generation has its music.  The images in this blog go back to  my husband and my parents' generation and the reference to modern listeners refers to my nephew's wife, who is collecting vinyl--four generations of music lovers and the music they listened to coming from the 1930s to the 2020s.

Thank you to Nate Sloan and Charlie Harding, co-hosts of the podcast "Switch on the Pop" and co-authors of "Switch on Pop: How Popular Music Works and Why It Matters."  Also, thank you to the New York Times and Nicholas Konrad, producer, and Aaron Byrd, animator, Video by Getty Images (Billie Eilish) who contributed to the March 15, 2021 video that prompted me to supplement last week's blog with comments from the current generation, illustrated with images from my family collections.   

What Songs Can Reveal

     Isaac Werner loved music.  Imagine living on a homestead in the late 1800s without a radio or other means of hearing music any way other than live.  What a treat visiting a friend who could play an instrument or going to town to hear a musical performance would be.

    Thinking about that lead me to a reflection on the role of popular songs in our own time and what the hits of each decade can tell about us.  I decided to research the most popular song of the year, beginning in 1950, when "Mona Lisa," sung by Nat King Cole topped the charts, singing "...men have named you, you're so like the lady with the mystic smile.  Is it only 'cause you're lonely they have blamed you, for that Mona Lisa strangeness in your smile?"

    A decade later, in 1960, the theme from a movie topped the list with the romantic lyrics "There's a Summer Place where it may rain or storm, yet I'm safe and warm, for within that summer place your arms reach out to me, and my heart is free from all care..."

    By 1970 the innocence of the past decade was MIA as Viet Nam impacted the nation.  Simon and Garfunkel recorded "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" as their last song in their last album together.  "When you're weary, feeling small, When tears are in your eyes, I'll dry them all.  I'm on your side."

    The world had changed, and so did music by 1980, the top song was written for a movie about a prostitute, "American Gigolo."  Recorded by Blondie, "Call Me" began with the lyrics "Colour me your colour, baby, Colour me your car.  Colour me your color, darling, I know who you are." 

    By 1990 the most popular song reflected life's difficulties but urged the person being addressed in the lyrics to "Hold On."  Wilson Phillips sang, "I know there's pain.  Why do you lock yourself up in these chains?  No one can change your life except for you.  Don't ever let anyone step all over you." 

    

Women were speaking up by 2000, but as Destiny's Child reveals in "Say My Name," they are still putting up with bad behavior from their man, declaring, "I am dying to believe you," but admitting "Don't believe a word you said," instead recognizing their man had "Got dishonor in your eyes."

    When Kesha sings "TiK ToK" in 2010, she's got more spunk but not much romance.  "Ain't got a care in the world, but got plenty of beer, Ain't got no money in my pocket, but I'm already here, and now the dudes are linin' up 'cause they hear we got swagger, But we kick 'em to the curb unless they look like Mick Jagger."

    The song topping the charts in 2020 has more romance but reflects the social difficulties of the time in "Blinding Lights."  "I look around and Sin City's cold and empty.  No one's around to judge me.  I can't see clearly when you're gone.  ...I'm drowning in the night, Oh, when I'm like this, you're the one I trust."

    When I began the research for this blog, I didn't expect what I might find after the turn of the century when I started listening more to the classical stations and didn't keep up with popular music.  Of course, this survey does not include country-western, and talk radio has increased in popularity,  displacing music stations.  What I discovered in my research is a reflection of change from decade to decade and from generation to generation.

    I will close with the lyrics from one of my favorite songs from the 1975 movie, "The Way We Were."  It is a love story with a tender but sad ending.  I have always liked the way that the song and the movie describe that life doesn't always give us everything we once thought we wanted, but it does give us beautiful memories.  Sometimes, it gives us even more than we could have dreamed.  So, to those who may never have heard these lyrics from 1973 movie with Barbra Streisand and Robert Redford, here is "The Way We Were."

Mem'ries,

Light the corners of my mind.

Misty water-colored memories

Of the way we were.

Scattered pictures,

Of the smiles we left behind

Smiles we gave to one another

For the way we were.

Can it be that life was all so simple then?

Or has time re-written every line?

If we had the chance to do it all again

Tell me, would we?  Could we?

Me'ries, may be beautiful and yet

What's too painful to remember

We simply choose to forget.

So it's the laughter

We will remember...

Whenever we remember...

The way we were...

The way we were...

    

The Larabee Story, an Addendum

 

San Diego Botanic Garden, Photo credit Brittany C.

The tradition of giving back to their community did not end with the death of Joseph B. Larabee (1833-1913).  In fact, his grandson, Charles Larabee, and his wife, Ruth Robertson Baird, have generously given to the people of San Diego a magnificent Botanic Garden.  Their story will serve as a coda to this series about the Larabee family.  The father of Charles was Frederick Delos Larabee (1868-1920), the son of Joseph Delos and Angeline Larabee, and the middle brother of Nora Larabee.  His parents had left Stafford, although the Larabee businesses established by Charles' grandfather continued to be the family business.

Charles and Ruth Robertson Baird grew up within a block of each other in Kansas City, Missouri.  Her parents were also quite successful, and Ruth graduated from Vassar College in 1926, majoring in Latin.  Charles and Ruth married on June 3, 1926, a few days after her graduation.  They both loved adventure and the out-of-doors, and early in their marriage they sailed round trip from Kansas City to Chicago and back, by navigating the Missouri, Mississippi, and Illinois Rivers.  Ruth taught school, and Charles became co-owner of "The Garden Shop," a 40 acre nursery of trees, evergreens, shrubs, and perennials.  He lectured on gardening and trees, and later gained a reputation as a photographer of the Southwest.

In 1942, Ruth bought 10 acres, with a small cottage, in Encinitas, California, and they left their home in the Midwest to move into the modest ranch in California.  Eventually Ruth named the property "El Rancho San Ysidro de las Flores," and they began collecting plants.  Sadly, they divorced, but Ruth remained on the property.

In 1957, Ruth donated the entire 26.5 acres she then owned to the County of San Diego, to be preserved as a park for public enjoyment.  Despite their divorce, Charles continued to take an interest in Ruth's ranch and garden, sometimes adding plants from his travels to the collection.   

Shadow Mountain

Charles managed the Larabee Family Trust until his death in February of 1968.  His name is inscribed on a crypt in the Larabee Family Mausoleum in Stafford, Kansas; however, his two step children removed his ashes and scattered them in the desert from atop Shadow Mountain, which he loved, along with the ashes of their mother, his second wife.

Ruth continued her charitable giving after leaving California and had eventually returned to Shawnee Mission.  On December 26, 1969, Ruth was staying in the Crown Hotel in Saffron Walden, Essex, England, when a fire broke out and she perished.  Her remains were cremated, and she is buried near her mother and father in Forest Hill Cemetery in Kansas City, Missouri.

(Thank you to "Cultivating Their Place in History:  The Story of Ruth and Charles Larabee,)

The Larabee Story, Part 4

Nora E. Larabee Library

     Recently, Larry D. Fenwick spent a pleasant afternoon visiting with Jan McKeel, Librarian of the Nora E. Larabee Library in Stafford, Kansas.  Jan shared with him the Memorial published in the Stafford County Republican, June 16, 1904, gifted to the library by the daughter of Drew Hartnett.  The following text is taken from that Memorial, describing not only Nora, but also reflecting the traditions of that era.  Included are the names of many others in the Stafford community and beyond.

    

Nora E. Larabee

    With the death of Miss Nora Larabee, which occurred at Albuquerque, New Mexico, last Wednesday night, an heroic fight for life against terrible odds has ended, and Death claims the victory.  For over two years the Larabees have carried on a hard fought contest to battle and withstand that most dread disease, consumption, but their efforts were fruitless, anymore than they can feel that they have done all that human hands could possibly do to win.  Money, time and labor have been of no consequence.  Specialists of world-wide repute have been consulted, traveling indulged in, and for the past year or so the parents have lived in the New Mexico health resort with the hope that its dry climate would prove healing and beneficial.

    For some months past they have realized that they were to lose her, and the many friends in and around Stafford have been sympathetic in their sorrow for the great bereavement that was to befall them, and all calmly awaited the coming of the Grim Reaper.

    She is dead, gone to that bourne from whence no traveler returns, yet not forgotten, nor will she ever be, for in her life among us she has builded a character most beautiful.  Her talents were many and her friends legion, and her early death will leave a place vacant in our community that it will take years to fill...may never be filled.  She has grown to womanhood in our midst, got a goodly portion of her education here, after which she was graduated with high honors from the College of the Sisters of Bethany at Topeka.  While never strong and rugged, like many other girls her age, it was not thought until a few months ago that she was to be cut off so young in life, and it seems a great pity that at just the time when she was blooming into the fullness of accomplished womanhood...all the bright world before her, and just when she might enjoy the many blessings and good things at her command, she must give up all...home, parents, brothers, friends!

Center stained glass image

Yet, maybe 'tis best.  Possibly this world is not so beautiful as it seems.  "Tis but the working out of the promise of God, the inevitable hand of fate that rests o'er the destiny of all mankind.  Nora is in a better home, and we're sure out of the pain and misery of human life.

Forbid, oh God, that it should seem sacrilegious to feel a bit hard towards fate for the striking of such a cruel blow.  Permit us the solace that beyond the broad canopy that o'erspreads this sphere there is a heaven...a place where all may find rest; the rest that comforts and heals the broken body, and that will overshadow the pains and heartaches of this mortal life.

Would to God that the writer were able to find words in which to express his innermost feelings as we pencil these lines, and pay a tribute fitting such a worthy individual, but it is impossible.  We can only think of her as good, noble and true to her friendships, of which she had so many; of the days when with the other boys and girls up at the old school house we were wont to play the innocent games of childhood together; of her growing to woman's estate while we grew to man's' of her onward progress, surmounting every obstacle that presented  itself, and that she has now given up this life when fairly started into it beauties.

Her friends will doubtless feel like us in this matter, and the great God in heaven will pardon us all for thoughts of resentment at such an ending.

The parents and brother, Fred D., arrived with the remains on Saturday morning's Santa Fe train, and were met at the depot by a large concourse of friends.  The Bachelor Girls' Club, of which she was one of the original organizers, was there with a most beautiful floral offering, and accompanied the remains to the family home on Union street north, where they were laid in state to be viewed by the friends.

All afternoon Saturday and up until noon Sunday a steady stream of people wended their way to the home of the Larabees to take the last look at all that was mortal, and tender consolation to the bereaved ones.

The room in which she lay was a veritable flower bank.  Among the offerings was a beautiful flower pillow from brothers Frank and Fred; bouquet, H.L. McCurdy and wife, Stafford; bouquet, H.D. McQuade and wife, Kansas City, Mo.; cross and anchor, Bachelor Girls' Club, Stafford; emblem made in shape of the club pin, Cooking Club, Stafford; two large mantels, Mesdames F.S. and F.D. Larabee, Stafford; crescent, C.A. and F.C. McCord, Stafford; heart, E.N. Maxfield and wife, Stafford; box of flowers, Paul E. Webb, Oklahoma City, Ok.; floral box, Mary A. Negley, Stafford; bouquet, Carrie A. Mack, Macksville; bouquet, Mrs. G.W. Maupin, Stafford; bouquet, the LaRue family, Stafford; besides offerings from Mr. and Mrs. Berger, Mr. and Mrs. Allen, and Mrs. Patten of Albuquerque, and others unmarked from Stafford friends.

Portrait of Nora

    The Rev. William Elwood, a former Congregational minister of Stafford, and a brother-in-law of F.D. Larbee, arrived Saturday night from Anthony, Kansas, and conducted the funeral at three o'clock Sunday afternoon.  He was assisted by the Rev. J.G. Smiley of this city.

    A male quartet of Messrs. Frank Mathias, Leroy Van Lehn, J.D. Rippey of Stafford, and Leonard Sanders of Hutchinson, sang two appropriate selections, and Miss Ida Alford sang "Flee, as a Bird."

    The pallbears, Mesdames Kate Crawford, Rose Van Lehn, Edna Oarey, and Misses Hasse Turner, Callie Vioers, and Gertie Sutton, assisted by the honorary pallbearers, Messrs. Hal Wolf, Wright, LaRue, D. Mershon, A. Hartnett and John Bridwell, preceded by Miss M. LaRue, conveyed the beautiful white casket to the hearse.  They were followed by the remaining members of the Bachelor Club, carrying flowers.

The procession was almost a mile in length, and was another evidence of the high esteem in which the deceased was held by our citizens.

Her girl friends of the clubs had most tastily decorated the grave in green and white that morning.

Nora E. Larabee was born in Ashford, N.Y., September 12th, 1878, died in Albuquerque, N.M., June 8th, 1904, and was buried in the Stafford Cemetery Sunday, June 12th.  With her parents and brothers she came to this city in the Spring of 1886.  

Nora E. Larabee Library

  

The Larabee Story, Part 3

Exterior View of Nora's Window on Library
Photo credit:  Larry D. Fenwick

Having decided to honor their daughter Nora E. Larabee with the construction of a beautiful public library to be gifted to the town, they chose perhaps the leading architect in Kansas at that time to design it.  His name was Charles E. Shepard.  Based in Kansas City, he was an impressive choice.

Shepard chose dark red brick and wood trim fashioned in a Corinthian style for the library.  According to Paul Hawkin and Dixie Osborn, writing in the "Stafford County History, 1870 to 1990," when the library was subsequently expanded, each extension included one of the original windows incorporated into the new additions, decisions that made the renovations nearly unnoticeable.

Stafford Library with addition

The most beautiful detail of the library, however, was the stained-glass window with the portrait of the lovely, young Nora.

Despite their generous motives, the gift of the library to the town of Safford was not immediately accepted.  Although the family businesses had created jobs for Stafford citizens, the mother and daughter had been active in the arts for the town, and the men held city offices, a rift had developed between Joseph Larabee and the editor of the Stafford Carrier, who served on the city council.  He led the council members in a rejection of the gift.

The townspeople responded with a recall election that displaced those council members, and the new members accepted the gift.  Animosities are not unheard of in communities, and the details of the tragic rift between the two men is not known to many today, but for those of us viewing the beautiful library, the rejection of the gift is difficult to understand.  Regardless, the town received a beautiful library, and the family's memorial for their daughter remains in her honor, in her hometown of Stafford, Kansas.  The Nora E. Larabee Memorial Library is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.  Charles E. Shepard also designed the bank building at 100 S. Main in Stafford, and the structure currently houses the Stafford County Museum.

Nora is buried in the family Mausoleum in the cemetery on a hill just outside Stafford. 

Larabee Masoleum, Photo credit:  Larry D. Fenwick

The Larabee Story, Part 2

Tuberculosis had no regard for wealth.  It struck the rich and famous, as well as the poor and working classes.  For a time, it was the leading cause of death in America.  From 1880 to 1940, New Mexico attracted "health seekers" with its high elevation and abundant sunshine.  By 1920, people seeking the cure were estimated to represent 10% of the state's population.  Instead of fearing the tubercular sufferers, they were sought with advertising such as Albuquerque's slogan "Heart of the Well Country," Silver City's title "City with the Golden Climate," and Santa Fe calling itself the "Land of Sunshine."  Pamphlets advertised "hotels well-furnished, bright sunny rooms...at very reasonable rates," and for those invalids with less money, a pamphlet suggested an invalid could "pitch his tent or build his cabin where he pleases without fearing a land owner's interference.  Even ranches were suggested, with the caveat that while the outdoors and sunshine were desirable, the rancher might not be welcoming.

The treatment of that time consisted of rest, fresh air, ample good food, and a positive attitude.  If the patient did not improve, the next types of treatments might be far less pleasant.

In the early years, those with tuberculosis were welcomed, but by the early 1900s the attitude had begun to change.  The back page of the Albuquerque Commercial Club pamphlet read:  "Albuquerque does not invite indigent or hopeless cases."

Another group of health seekers had poured into the state.  Discharged soldiers with tuberculosis arrived hoping to find treatment, overwhelming the already stressed population.

The discovery of streptomycin, and eventually other drugs, at last proved effective for treating tuberculosis, but it was too late for Nora E. Larabee, who died in 1904.  Unable to have saved their beloved daughter, the family decided to honor her with a beautiful library donated to their home town, Stafford, Kansas.

(Thank you to Santa Fe Trail Magazine, "The Lungers and Their Legacy," Nancy Owen Lewis.)

The Larabee Story, Part 1

The Nora E. Larabee Window

It is always dangerous to make assumptions, and I had mistakenly assumed for years that the beautiful library in Stafford, Kansas was a Carnegie Library.  In fact, it was given to Stafford by a local family in honor of their daughter, who fell victim to tuberculosis.  There is much more to this family's story than can be told in a single blog, but all of it is worth sharing.

Joseph D. Larabee was born in N.Y. in 1832 or 1833, and he was not the typical man seeking a fortune by heading West.  When he brought his family to Stafford in 1886, he had already established a modestly successful career in New York as a cheese buyer.  However, it was in Kansas where his financial success expanded.

In her article published March 26, 2012, Beccy Tanner described Larabee's enterprises, including not only the Larabee Flour Milling Company in Stafford but also land in Western Kansas amounting to thousands of acres, lead mining in southeast Kansas, a charcoal plant in the Ozarks, oil and gas refineries in Kansas and Oklahoma, a cement factory in Mexico, and financing for such operations as a car dealership and a carburetor company. 

At the age of 32, Joseph had married 18-year-old Angeline.  Their first child was Frank, followed by their second son, Frederick.  A third son, Kestor, died before his first birthday.  Their last child was Nora.  It was after her birth that the family came to Stafford, Kansas.

With their financial success and their family complete, it seemed they were fortunate indeed.  However, sickness has no regard for wealth.  The beautiful young Nora contracted tuberculosis.

The Timeless Storyteller

(c) Jerry Pinkney 

 Those of you who regularly follow my blog know that I love illustrated children's books, and this blog shares a story teller who has retained his popularity for centuries.  "Aesop the fable writer" was mentioned by the Greek historian Herodotus, describing Aesop as a slave living in ancient Greece during the 5th century BC.  Plato wrote that Socrates knew the oral stories of Aesop and that during his time in prison, Socrates converted some of Aesop's fables to verse.

The tradition of using the ancient fables of Aesop as guides for ethical behavior continues even today, and just as Socrates did, modern writers use the themes of Aesop in their own versions of his stories.  The simple lessons are easy for children to grasp; yet, the lessons are equally true for adults.  In fact, the fables were originally told to adults as ethical guides.

Among the illustrated children's books in my collection I have several books of Aesop's fables, and two of my favorites are illustrated by Jerry Pinkney and John Rocco.  Pinkney has used the fables in several books, including one titled "Aesop's Fables" containing 61 of the stories, with many illustrations, including the one pictured in this blog.

(c) John Rocco, Wolf! Wolf!

One of my favorite fables is commonly titled "The Boy Who Cried Wolf," a simple story about a young man sent to watch the sheep and call out a warning if the wolf appeared, to alert the villagers to come drive the wolf away.  His simple responsibility bored him, and he sounded the warning falsely, just to break the monotony, not just once but a second time.  The villagers were disgusted by his false warnings, and when the wolf actually appeared and the boy cried "Wolf!" no one came.  The simple moral to the fable as stated in Pinkney's book:  "No one believes a liar."

John Rocco chose the same fable, but as creative people often do, he added his own twist.  The little boy in his version also falsely cried wolf and lost the trust of the villagers, but in Rocco's tale, the wolf is old and knows that he is not really able to chase down a goat, so he bargains with the boy.  He tells him to select one of the goats and take it to the wolf's garden on the other side of the mountain, and tie it to the fence post.  That way, the boy will regain credibility with the villagers since a goat will be missing, and the wolf will get a goat.  The boy agrees, and he does deliver the unlucky goat, but when the wolf goes out to the garden and sees the goat, he discovers that the goat has eaten all the weeds and the garden looks beautiful.  The goat apologizes, admitting that he is a picky eater and he prefers weeds to vegetables.  He begs the wolf not to eat him, and the Wolf agrees, concluding, "What's one breakfast compared to delicious vegetables for the rest of my days."

I love both books, and both themes are important.  No one should be a liar, but compromise can sometimes work to the advantage of both sides.  The lesson Aesop teaches is that a liar will be found out and disbelieved if he continues to lie, and the assumption is that once discovered, the liar will admit his obvious guilt and stop lying.  Aesop understood that lying is not  insignificant, and most wolfs are not vegetarians.  Much as I love John Rocco's positive outcome, Aesop's simple moral is the better lesson for us to learn.  Beware of a liar, for when you can no longer trust the truth of what the liar says, the result may be your own loss. 

I recommend both Jerry Pinkney's "Aesop's Fables," published 2000, and John Rocco's "Wolf! Wolf!," published 2007.  There are many collections of Aesop's Fables that are wonderful choices for children's libraries.  

Computers and History

 One of my favorite bloggers is Maria Popova, who often guides me to overlooked books published in the past.  A recent blog post at "Brain Pickings" featured Alan Turing (6-23-1912 to 6-7-1954), who played such an important role in theoretical computer science.  Popova shared how, as a young boy, Turing was given The Children's Library, Natural Wonders, by Edwin Tenney Brewster.  In the book, Brewster had described how much of our body is constantly changing, using in his description an analogy of cells as living bricks.  The young Alan Turing was fascinated.

Turing grew up to become a leader in the development of artificial intelligence and is particularly known for his role during the Second World War working in Britain's codebreaking centre.  Charged with breaking the German naval cryptannalisis coded messages, he devised a number of techniques for breaking German cipers.  The work of his group, and particularly of Turing, may have shortened the war in Europe by more than 2 years and saved over 14 million lives.  His role in theoretical science represented a formalization of the concepts of algorithm and computation.

The coronavirus has forced many of us to expand how we use our computers, but movies have long ago been intrigued by the idea of artificial intelligence resulting in plots about a takeover of the world from we less intellectually equipped humans.  Turing must have given this subject some thought, for he raised questions of whether a computer would ever be able to "enjoy strawberries and cream, make someone fall in love with it, learn from experience, use words properly...?"

At the time Turing raised those questions, such possibilities may have seemed insurmountable, but today we know that computers can use words to ask and answer questions.  We know they can learn from experience and self correct.  Advances in self driving vehicles reflect the growing applications of data and algorithms.  We know, at least based on the amount of time most of us spend on our computers and smart phones, that we are certainly infatuated, if not in love, with the seemingly indispensable computers in our lives!  As for enjoying strawberries and cream, taste and smell have proved to be challenging for computers.  Sensors have been created to detect such things as salt, sugar, and bitterness, but the human use of both tongue and nose to achieve the sense of taste has yet to be replicated.  Scientists are working on an electronic tongue, but appreciating strawberries and cream is beyond today's computer.

Thinking about Turing and what he achieved, and then considering how much has changed since his death in 1954, led me to think about how surprisingly rapid change is. 

Isaac Werner and his neighbors came to the prairie and built dugout homes or structures cut from blocks of sod.  The only horsepower they possessed had four legs, and the books they read were viewed with candle or lamp light.  Yet, in only a few years they had homes of wood, powered farming equipment, and towns with street lights, multilevel brick businesses and street cars.

Each generation sees changes the generation before could not have imagined.  To better understand ourselves, it is important that we know the history that came before and shaped who we are.  Lacking that awareness, we will continue to change, but we may leave behind wisdom our ancestors could have shared.

 

Maria Popova concluded her "Brain Pickings" essay with these words: "The triumph of history is tracing the roots--ancient and alive--of our present condition in the world. The Triumph of self-understanding is tracing the roots of the formative influences that make us who we are, that shape the people who shape the world."

A Thrifty Dilema

I was raised to be thrifty. In past blogs I shared my father's habit of carefully using a letter opener, going around the entire envelope of letters he received, stacking the envelopes blank sides up, and stapling the stack. Those were our note pads for shopping lists and game score pads, and we had business envelope size and letter size options. My mother was also thrifty, never wasting leftover food or even the juice from the vegetables, and finding ways to recycle clothing into something new. My father and brother's slacks were just enough to make a straight skirt for me. I have inherited versions of their thriftiness. Because I quilt, it is very difficult for me to throw away fabric scraps. I do use those scraps in quilts, but I have enough fabric to make quilts into the next century!

When our mothers past away--now over a decade ago--they had boxes of unused greeting cards. Unlike today, when most of us go to the card rack to select a particular card for a particular recipient, a generation ago people bought boxes of cards--often an assortment for various occasions. Typically, they used all the birthday cards, with cards such as anniversary or congratulations unused. They would buy a new box of cards to get what they needed, and the unused cards would continue to accumulate. At our mothers' deaths, I inherited those accumulated cards. There is nothing wrong with them, except they do not look like todays' greeting cards. They are in like-new condition--except they look like they were new in the late 1900s. The messages are still appropriate. However, it is obvious that I did not go to town and select that particular card especially for the recipient. Here is my dilema: Is it an insult to send a card from decades ago that will be obvious to the person who receives it that it was not selected especially for them? What is a vintage classic vs. just something old? When does thrifty slip into cheap?!!!

Backgrounds in Virtual Interviews

My husband and I were watching CBS Sunday Morning, as we often do, and one of the guests was Doris Kearns Goodwin, Pulitzer Prize Winner, biographer, historian, and political commentator.  As is typical in the coronavirus era, she was being interviewed from her home.  "Look at all of her books," I said, as usual trying to make out some of the titles on the book binders.  "Do you see 'Prairie Bachelor' on her library shelves?" my husband teased.  "Not yet!" I replied.

Doris Kearns Goodwin

Later in the show, 98 year old Norman Lear, television writer and producer, was being interviewed.  "You know, you could write a blog about the backgrounds people choose for their virtual interviews," my husband said.  Sure enough, Lear was seated in front of a book case, which also held an  Emmy award, as well as books.

Norman Lear

 I liked my husband's idea.  After all, when I was interviewed for the Fort Hays State University Alumni award last fall, I had carefully chosen the book cases in our dining room as my background.  

Lynda Beck Fenwick

I decided to conduct an experiment, so I went into the kitchen where I could still hear the tv to listen to Sunday Morning, and turned on our small tv to begin switching from channel to channel to take screen shots of whomever was being interviewed at that time.  The first thing I learned from my experiment was how much of our tv viewing time is consumed by commercials, for I was often detained, channel after channel, by commercials!

Peggy Noonan

On NBC's Meet the Press, Peggy Noonan, author, columnist for the Wall Street Journal, and perhaps best known for having been the speech writer for President Ronald Reagan, was being interviewed.  A book case appears in the right side of the picture.  

Chris Christi

On ABC This Week I encountered my first fire place background when Chris Christie, Governor of New Jersey from 2010 to 2018  and today political commentator and lobbyist, was being interviewed.

Laurie Barrett

Science and the coronavirus were the topics at MSNBC, where science journalist Laurie Garrett was being interviewed.  The crowded book case behind her contained books on many topics, but she is known for her science background and for having won the Pulitzer Prize in 1996 for her series on Ebola published in News Day.

Andy Puzder

On Fox Business the guest was Andy Puzder, former CEO of CKE Restaurants, and unsuccessful nominee for Secretary of Labor.  He appeared in a traditional executive's room, in which the edge of what appeared to be a fire place could be seen, and on the opposite wall, a painting.  

Jeff Van Drew

 

New Jersey Republican Congressman and dentist, Jeff Van Drew, was the guest on Fox News.  His setting included a fire place.

Erie Foner

At CNN the guest was Erie Foner, a History Professor at Columbia since 1982 and the author of many text books.  Behind him was a crowded book case.

My informal survey began about halfway through CBS Sunday Morning and ended before that program concluded.  Much of my time was taken waiting for commercials to end, even though I moved from channel to channel trying to avoid the delay of the commercials.  I was not selective about choosing the guests in this survey.  Whoever happened to be on the screen on each particular channel became the subject of my screen shots, with whatever background each of them had chosen.

Perhaps not everyone has found it as interesting as I have to observe the background choices of those being interviewed virtually from their homes.  I also enjoy seeing the art people have on their walls, only one example of which appeared in this impromptu survey.  It is also fun to see those who select kitchens for their backgrounds.

The occasional dog bark or the cat who springs into the camera frame add interest, and enthusiastic plant lovers sometimes display potted plants or cut flower displays in vases.  Flowers can be seen in both Noonan's and Christi's screen shots. Some of the settings in the background seem carefully staged, while others look as though not a single thought was given before inviting thousands of viewers into the person's home.

To be honest, when the coronavirus threats are banished and everyone returns to their studios, I am going to miss being invited into their homes.

Election Tragedies

 I have found it difficult to compose this week's blog post and I apologize for the late posting.  It has been a tragic time for our nation, but as many of the blog posts over the past decade have shown, there is often much to be learned by looking to the past.

Stairs inside the refurbished Kansas Capital, Photo:  Lyn Fenwick

In 1893 the populist candidate for governor, Lorenzo D. Lewelling, was sworn into office in the state capital of Topeka.  The People's Party gained the majority in the Kansas Senate as well.  It was in the Kansas House, however, where the outcome of the elections was in turmoil.

In my book, "Prairie Bachelor, The Story of a Kansas Homesteader and the Populist Movement," the description of events is told in Chapter 10, including the important role played by Representative William Campbell, Isaac Werner's friend and neighbor.

As other blogs have expressed, many Kansas homesteaders were Union veterans of the Civil War, and politically they voted Republican in respect for their old leader, Abraham Lincoln.  Consequently, Kansas politics was and remains primarily Republican.  The Democrats were occasionally successful in elections, but Republicans were accustomed to winning.  There was no dispute that the People's Party controlled the Governor's office and the Senate; however, in the House the results were challenged..

Undisputed, the Democrats held 2 seats, and the People's Party held 58 seats.  Disputed, however, were 18 certifications of the 65 seats the Republicans claimed.  Evidence of fraud had been collected to challenge those 18 certifications, and if fraud were found, the majority would shift to the Populists.  A Committee of Fifteen, with five Republicans, five Democrats, and five People's Party members, was assembled to consider the evidence.  Although five of their own members were included on the committee, the Republican leadership refused to acknowledge the authority of the Committee.

Both parties sent messages to the Governor and the Senate that they were ready to do the State's business, and the People's Party members were recognized.  The Republicans refused to accept that recognition.  Both parties elected Speakers and conducted business as if they were authorized.

After 31 days of this legislative standoff, matters erupted.  The governor's appeals to the Republicans were ignored, the militia commander sent to clear the hall refused the command of his superior, the Republicans used a sledgehammer to crash through the locked door of the chambers, unauthorized people were issued weapons by the Republicans, a new militia commander established a position outside the capital...in short, it was a dangerous situation.  The People's Party members finally agreed to allow the State Supreme Court to hear the matter, knowing the Court had a Republican majority which would probably result in a judgement for the Republicans.  It did.

The militia commander was court marshaled, according to military justice, and he was found guilty of refusing to carryout a direct order from his superior.  Two years later, when the Republicans were back in power, the verdict was set aside on political grounds, since it was undisputed that the order he refused had been lawful.  

United States Capital, west side

The greatness of our nation rests upon our magnificent constitution and our laws, state and national.  Not only must those we elect act in good faith under those laws, so must we as citizens.  Loyalty to party is part of the mechanism of government, but it must never be greater than respect for the laws that have knitted together our nation of diverse citizens.  In these times, we must hope that those to whom we have entrusted the protection of our nation act with wisdom and respect for the office they hold. 

Author of the Prairie

Isaac Werner's Homestead Claim Today

It will come as no surprise to those of you who follow my blog that I love Willa Cather.  She was not a Kansan, but she didn't miss it by much, since she spent much of her youth in southcentral Nebraska.  She was born December 7, 1873 in Virginia, but in 1883 when Willa was only ten years old, the family arrived in Nebraska.  The farm on which they first settled was about 20 miles north of the Kansas border, but a year and a half later they moved 16 miles south to Red Cloud.  From a prairie farm to a prairie town, Cather came to know and love the prairie, and that love is revealed in much of her writing.

Somewhere I read an unattributed quote that goes like this:  Anyone can love the beauty of the mountains, but it takes someone special to love the prairie.  Cather certainly loved both and used both in her books, but she had a special feeling for the prairie.  That is why I wish more Kansans would read Cather.  Our state is not often the featured landscape for novelists, but the prairie is featured in many of Cather's short stories and novels, as is occasionally our state.

Some of those to whom I have recommended Cather have found the pace of her stories too slow.  It is true that they aren't action filled.  But, part of that is the result of her attention to setting, character, and particularly to descriptions of nature.  I might paraphrase the quote above:  It may be easier to love a book filled with action and adventure, but it is worth immersing yourself in a book filled with deep explorations of characters and setting.

Willa Cather

So, why is my New Years blog about Willa Cather?

During the era of covid-19, many of us have found ourselves at home, away from activities that would usually occupy our time.  Several of my friends have mentioned turning to books.  Perhaps this is a good time to try Willa Cather.

Although I have read all of her novels and many of her short stories, there remain stories that I have not read.  An internet friend and writer has created The Willa Cather Short Story Project, in which followers have the opportunity/challenge to read a Cather short story a month.  I signed up!  All of the stories are available at the Willa Cather Archive on line, so it is not necessary to buy any books.  Those who sign up can simply read along or can comment.  As my friend who has originated the project says:  "The point is to read Willa Cather with pleasure, whatever that looks like for you."

Photo credit:  Lyn Fenwick

Which brings me back to my particular love for Cather...for I just finished one of the short stories, "The Clemency of the Court," from which the following quote is taken.

The love of the plains was strong in him.  It had always been so, ever since he was a little fellow, when the brown grass was up to his shoulders and the straw stacks were the golden mountains of fairy land.  Men from the cities on the hills never understand this love, but the men from the plain country know what I mean.

This New Years blog is about using the opportunity that staying at home offers to read some of those books you have put off reading.  I know that many of you are already doing more reading than usual, but might it be fun to direct your reading in a particular way--to organize a personal project that you would enjoy during this unusual confinement at home.  I did that earlier with my marathon reading of all the Harry Potter series, and that was fun.  Maybe you have a set of Churchill's World War series or Sandburg's Lincoln that has been gathering dust.  Maybe it is poetry you prefer, and you could read a poem a day.

I understand that for some of us, the annual New Years resolution to go on a diet is needed this year more than ever! but maybe reading is a good way to keep your mind off the refrigerator too!  I will be reading Cather short stories as my resolution.  As I often do with my New Years post, you are invited to share your resolutions with me!

Merry Christmas from My Friend Mary Ann

Photo credit:  Lyn Fenwick

I know that Christmas letters are often the butt of jokes, but they would not be if they were all written by our friend Mary Ann Marko!  She has given me permission to share her 2020 Christmas letter on my blog, and you are in for a treat!  (Only the images are mine.)

What to Make of a Covid Year

From January whisperings about a strange disease in a faraway land, to March when things began to look ominous, to the present, which finds us engulfed in a world pandemic, we have all taken a ride through some kind of a Sci-Fi horror movie.  Now we come into this season of gratitude and try to conjure up something we can to be thankful for.  No matter what, I will always be grateful for the moon, elephants, and cottonwood trees.  I am also grateful for the optimists who try to fill our cup at least half full with their postings of stunning sunsets, blooming flowers, jokes that force a smile, and photos of happy days.  We long to be with family and friends during this season, but are thankful for our warm, safe house to weather out this virus storm.  We are grateful, too, for Zoom that lets us at least see the faces we long to touch--to hold their hands.

Photo credit:  Lyn Fenwick

Sheltering at home has brought its own set of challenges.  Those dreams of long ago, when life was a frenzy of even a few hours alone with my sweetie, have turned to accusations of stalking.  (He says he was just trying to put the clothes away.)  We stop.  Regroup.  Find ways to make space for each other, seal the deal with a kiss, and carry on.

When the news unnerves us, we remember we have Netflix, with the Tiger King and that chess girl, and The Crown.  We open another puzzle; read another book.  Our yearning for sweets triumphs over any resolution to eat healthy.  Kale and carrots do not do what Twin Bings and Blue Bell ice cream can do to tamp down the stress and sooth the spirit.  

We stay up late and get up late.  We bring in the paper with its predictable bad news, drink coffee, scroll face book, and now it's noon.  Lunch.  I need a nap.  Billy Collins reads poems to us in the afternoons and Heather Cox teaches us history lessons.  OLLI offers courses on line--very good ones--and I remember to tune into about half of them.  I have learned about flying buttresses, Neanderthals, viruses, crocodile, and all manner of animals and insects, how my brain functions, and how Google plays with it.  I have learned more about the constitution, and how, like the Bible, it can be manipulated to fit most anything one chooses to believe.  In searching for truth, I have learned to question everything I ever thought I knew.

Irregular adherence to safety measures keeps us home from church, grocery store, and everywhere else.  And so, we watch Mass on television (with coffee and cinnamon roll), order groceries, and everything else on line--staying safe, we hope.

Yesterday on my walk, I saw a neighbor's yard strung with bedding, and chairs sitting outdoors with a basket of disinfectants beside them.  My husband tells me there was an ambulance there when he came home from PT.  We hunker down even tighter.

Photo credit: Lyn Fenwick & Emy

If we travel next year (a vaccine and a thumb's up from Dr. Fauci being the key to our traveling), it will be to memorial services that are increasing, as is the pain of not being able to share the grief with family and friends in real time.

The giant poinsettia gifted us by a friend to usher in the season will be all the decoration we need for this year.  I am eagerly waiting for the stores to stock candied fruit so I can make fruitcake--I'm ready to open that apricot brandy.

We will spend Christmas home alone, happy in the knowledge we are protecting our families, and they us.  We await the Baby in a Manger to lighten all our burdens.  And when this year comes to a close, we will celebrate its departure by stomping on something and then banging pots and pans while demanding a new and vastly improved 2021!

My thanks to these special friend of ours, Mary Ann, for sharing her humor and wisdom, and to her husband, Gene, for providing her with such great material.  May the Holiday Season bring all our friends and blog followers the grace and humor of this message, and may the new year bring us kindness and health.