A Fete at Faribault House

At Sibley Historic Site June 23

Sunday afternoon Greg sent a message “what’s the rain plan?”, referring to our La Fete de la Saint -Jean-Baptiste scheduled for 5-7 p.m. at the Henry Sibley Historic Site at Mendota.  The day had been threatening, but it appeared the skies would clear.  But you can’t predict Mother Nature, and enroute to the event, rain came down so hard I almost had to stop due to no visibility.

So, Greg’s question was appropriate. and the 50 or so of the brave souls who ventured out crowded into Jean-Baptiste and Pelagie Faribaults living room, and began what was a memorable event in the 1839 home of one of early Minnesota’s premier French-Canadian traders.

Here is a pdf of the program booklet which includes a brief history of St. Jean Baptiste Feast, and Sibley Historic Site: St. Jean-Baptiste Jun 23001Friends of the Sibley Historic Site,  the French-American Heritage Foundation of Minnesota, and Jane Peck were primary sponsors of the event.  Also involved was the Dakota County Historical Society and La Compagnie.

Afterwards Mark Stillman, a stellar squeeze box artist who performs with Francine Roche (link is Francine’s Facebook page), wrote Ann Essling of the Friends of the Sibley Historic Site: “The amazing thing is…once we had everything up and running in the Faribault House…it actually felt like we were French Canadian Voyageurs back in the early 1800s. It was great!”

Ann added: “Our performers did amazing.”

Jane Peck, with Gary Schulte, the other performers, said “It was fun to think of all the dance parties held in that very room by the Faribault family!”

I chimed in: “Well, Greg, I guess we found out what the game plan for rain was! … I congratulate Jane and Gary and Francine and Mark for doing a great job under far, far less than ideal circumstances.  And the Sibley folks and Friends of Sibley for their good work.  “The show went on” regardless of the weather … Thanks to all.  I think my jacket will be dry this morning.”

All in all, I think we had about 50 in that living room of the Faribault house.  Unfortunately, there weren’t young kids, but their absence was understandable given the threatening weather.

The Sibley site is lovely (photos below taken the next day when there was still intermittent rain.

Do visit the site and learn more about Minnesota’s history.

Jane Peck and Gary Schulte demonstrate and teach dance in the French-Canadian Voyageur and Metis style. Faribault House living room.

Francine Roche and Mark Stillman performed music for those attending.

Faribault House at Sibley Historic Site, Mendota MN, the performance was in the living room behind the windows at lower right.

The beautiful, still damp grounds, at the historic site, June 24. No outdoor activities were possible the previous day. All activity was indoors.

Don, 89, whose ancestry is substantially French-Canadian and includes Native American was among those in the audience who much appreciated the music and performance.

Near neighbor to the Sibley site, just a block to the south, is historic St. Peter’s of Mendota, one of Minnesota’s oldest churches, dating back to 1840.

 

 

Two-fer – Iran and the Wages of Slavery

Iran – June 22, 2019

Yesterdays banner headline in our local paper, Minneapolis StarTribune, blared “Trump orders, cancels Iran Strike”.  Already, of course, Trump is about the business of evading responsibility.  The only safe way to deal with Trumps communiques, of any kind, is to believe nothing he says, rather than gamble on the random “truth”.

Here  is how the CIA  Factbook describes Iran today.  Iran is about 2 1/2 times the size of Texas and has about one-third of the U.S. population.  It is not an insignificant place (as if any places really are, especially in today’s world.  I personally know Iranians, and have for years. )

Iran and environs, 1987 Readers Digest Atlas of the World

Here’s a pdf of the same map: Iran and environs001

My personal base line in this particular case (Iran):  Early on, it was essential to Trump to kill the Iran nuclear deal, laboriously negotiated by the Obama administration and involving many countries.  Thus, the path to potential peace, was traded for the certainty of potential war.

Everyone knows exactly what Trump is by now: a liar who rules by threat and desires domination, and whose goal is always humiliation of the losers.  He may dupe enough of us to continue to rule, even a second term; but foreign leaders, including Irans, are not fools, and have long been on to his game (and it is a game, albeit a very dangerous one).  Sooner or later Trump – and ourselves – will reap the furor.

Just Above Sunset catches the current situation well.  Here is today’s edition, What Those Two Said”.  Take the time.

Yesterday I wrote a brief note to our Marine grandson, in part: We think of you all, of course, with what is going on in the Middle East  We are no fan of Donald Trump, fyi.  I think back to 1962 when I was in the Amy & we watched President Kennedy on a tiny television in an Army barracks when he talked about the Cuban Missile Crisis, then at its most crucial point.  We were at Ft. Carson, at Colorado Springs, but we were in the bullseye as there are many military facilities there, & were, then, as well.  War is not a game & we are no longer in a superior position in the world.  We need to learn that lesson.  Folks like you are really necessary and I respect you all a great deal.  But keep it in its proper perspective.”  Grandpa.

War has always been a lethal weapon for warriors, with, unfortunately, the willing accomplices the people who will end up as victims in the long run.

My all-time favorite, not fake news, is this quotation by Hitler’s second in command, Hermann Goering, as he awaited trial and likely execution at Nuremberg in 1946.

Of course the people don’t want war. Why should some poor slob on a farm want to risk his life in a war when the best he can get out of it is to come back to his farm in one piece?

Naturally, the common people don’t want war, neither in Russia, nor England, nor for that matter, Germany. That is understood, but after all it is the leaders of the country who determine the policy and it is always a simpler matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the peacemakers for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country.

(Goering was long time Nazi, Reichmarshall, and heir-apparent to Hitler, His statement on history was recorded while imprisoned at Nuremberg after WWII. Goering was sentenced to death by hanging for war crimes, but committed suicide first.

Quoted in the book Nuremberg Diary, p. 278, Gustave Gilbert, Farrar, Straus & Co., 1947. Gilbert was psychologist assigned to the Nazi prisoners on trial at Nuremberg.   Initially I was skeptical about the quote, until I found the actual book, and read it till I found this exact quotation within.)

POSTNOTE June 23:  This mornings Washington Post sends an excellent opinion column by David Ignatius. Ignatius is a veteran of the pundit scene.  I don’t know his ideology.  What he includes in his column is important; what he misses, intentionally or not, is at least as important as the rest of his story.  Few Americans know (or care) about how Iran became an item of interest: few know about the American sponsored coup that led to American puppet Shah of Iran between the early 1950s and late 1970s, culminating with the hostages in 1979.  Etc.  There is a huge amount of hidden history left out of the Ignatius story.  Take this on as a personal history lesson.  Quietly absent today are the 83,000,000 Iranians who are, like it or not, pawns of the conflict.  Trump in effect declared on Tuesday that he saved 150 Iranian lives by calling off the drone strike, but the bigger story is holding an entire country hostage for “regime change”.  Friends this morning also noted the presence of Israel in this conflict: Apparently John Bolton was in Israel strategizing about next steps.  Bolton is a high level operative in the Trump administration and is the one most famously remembered as being ambassador to the United Nations who quipped about taking off the top stories of the UN Building.

The Wages of Slavery

Separate but related, a very interesting letter – from 1869 – arrived in my in-box yesterday, from Carol.  It is on a different but very current topic, and relevant as a stand-alone about another war in which we engaged whose issue in large part was dominance and control of one race over another.  It is sent exactly as received without further comment.

In 1825, at the approximate age of 8, Jordan Anderson (sometimes spelled “Jordon”) was sold into slavery and would live as a servant of the Anderson family for 39 years. In 1864, the Union Army camped out on the Anderson plantation and he and his wife, Amanda, were liberated. The couple eventually made it safely to Dayton, Ohio, where, in July 1865, Jordan received a letter from his former owner, Colonel P.H. Anderson. The letter kindly asked Jordan to return to work on the plantation because it had fallen into disarray during the war.

On Aug.  7, 1865, Jordan dictated his response through his new boss, Valentine Winters, and it was published in the ​Cincinnati Commercial. The letter, entitled “Letter from a Freedman to His Old Master,” was not only hilarious, but it showed compassion, defiance, and dignity. That year, the letter would be republished in theNew York Daily Tribune and Lydia Marie Child’s “The Freedman’s Book.”

The letter mentions a “Miss Mary” (Col. Anderson’s Wife), “Martha” (Col. Anderson’s daughter), Henry (most likely Col. Anderson’s son), and George Carter (a local carpenter).

Dayton, Ohio,
August 7, 1865
To My Old Master, Colonel P.H. Anderson, Big Spring, Tennessee

Sir: I got your letter, and was glad to find that you had not forgotten Jordon, and that you wanted me to come back and live with you again, promising to do better for me than anybody else can. I have often felt uneasy about you. I thought the Yankees would have hung you long before this, for harboring Rebs they found at your house. I suppose they never heard about your going to Colonel Martin’s to kill the Union soldier that was left by his company in their stable. Although you shot at me twice before I left you, I did not want to hear of your being hurt, and am glad you are still living. It would do me good to go back to the dear old home again, and see Miss Mary and Miss Martha and Allen, Esther, Green, and Lee. Give my love to them all, and tell them I hope we will meet in the better world, if not in this. I would have gone back to see you all when I was working in the Nashville Hospital, but one of the neighbors told me that Henry intended to shoot me if he ever got a chance.

I want to know particularly what the good chance is you propose to give me. I am doing tolerably well here. I get twenty-five dollars a month, with victuals and clothing; have a comfortable home for Mandy, — the folks call her Mrs. Anderson, — and the children — Milly, Jane, and Grundy — go to school and are learning well. The teacher says Grundy has a head for a preacher. They go to Sunday school, and Mandy and me attend church regularly. We are kindly treated. Sometimes we overhear others saying, “Them colored people were slaves” down in Tennessee. The children feel hurt when they hear such remarks; but I tell them it was no disgrace in Tennessee to belong to Colonel Anderson. Many darkeys would have been proud, as I used to be, to call you master. Now if you will write and say what wages you will give me, I will be better able to decide whether it would be to my advantage to move back again.

As to my freedom, which you say I can have, there is nothing to be gained on that score, as I got my free papers in 1864 from the Provost-Marshal-General of the Department of Nashville. Mandy says she would be afraid to go back without some proof that you were disposed to treat us justly and kindly; and we have concluded to test your sincerity by asking you to send us our wages for the time we served you. This will make us forget and forgive old scores, and rely on your justice and friendship in the future. I served you faithfully for thirty-two years, and Mandy twenty years. At twenty-five dollars a month for me, and two dollars a week for Mandy, our earnings would amount to eleven thousand six hundred and eighty dollars. Add to this the interest for the time our wages have been kept back, and deduct what you paid for our clothing, and three doctor’s visits to me, and pulling a tooth for Mandy, and the balance will show what we are in justice entitled to. Please send the money by Adams’s Express, in care of V. Winters, Esq., Dayton, Ohio. If you fail to pay us for faithful labors in the past, we can have little faith in your promises in the future. We trust the good Maker has opened your eyes to the wrongs which you and your fathers have done to me and my fathers, in making us toil for you for generations without recompense. Here I draw my wages every Saturday night; but in Tennessee there was never any pay-day for the negroes any more than for the horses and cows. Surely there will be a day of reckoning for those who defraud the laborer of his hire.

In answering this letter, please state if there would be any safety for my Milly and Jane, who are now grown up, and both good-looking girls. You know how it was with poor Matilda and Catherine. I would rather stay here and starve — and die, if it come to that — than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored children in your neighborhood. The great desire of my life now is to give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.

Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you when you were shooting at me.

From your old servant,

Jordon Anderson

from Lois: Jordan’s letter to his former “employer” Mr. Andersen touched a heartstring.   No one can change time, or get back to the “good ole days” that were not good for many; there is a lot of naivety by people with regard to political leadership and it behooves us to read and listen to all sides for opinions, not just go with one promise or another as justification to follow and/or promote an idea.   So keep the blogs coming!

“Good mornin’ America how are ya?….”

The rising sun from the train, eastern ND, June 2, 2019

Thinking of our now complete voyage to the northwest and a piece of California and Colorado, I kept thinking of the toe-tapper, City of New Orleans.  Listen to Arlo Guthrie sing Steve Goodman’s 1971 song here.

We spent our 14 days nowhere near New Orleans, and rode the rails near 50 years after the song was written.  Nonetheless, change the names and the characters, and you still catch the essence in 2019.  Here was our route map, from the AMTRAK magazine.  We trained from Minneapolis to Seattle; stopped a few days; trained to Salem, OR; stopped two days; trained again to Davis CA; then flew to Denver to visit family, and home again, by airline.

Route map of trip June 1-15. (St. Paul to Davis CA via AMTRAK, plane from Sacramento to Minneapolis, via Denver).

First AMTRAK rest stop, Minot ND June 2, 2019

Long and short, we covered an immense swath of the U.S., visited,  some great people, saw some interesting places and things…but it would be foolish to pretend we did more than a quick once over.

We visited the wonderful Chihuly Garden and Glass exhibit in Seattle (beside the space needle); also Pike Place and Underground Seattle, and the immense Boeing operation in Everett; we had a wonderful visit with a friend in Mt. Angel OR; crossed the Cascades in southern OR; toured the Leland Stanford mansion and the State Capitol Building in Sacramento, and saw the Big Trees in Calaveras County; walked the campus of UC Davis; drove a ways up the mountain to overlook Boulder CO.

On board the train we dined with people we’d never met before and would likely not see again.  One couple I’ll particularly remember were native American.  The husband noted that his most recent article was a cover story in the well-known magazine Sojourners.  I looked it up on return home, read it myself, and you can read it here: “How Indigenous world views offer hope to a besieged planet”.

A particular priority for me was to visit Redmond WA, which Microsoft lists as home, and in which my long-time friend has lived for many years.  I specifically was interested in the setting of a book written by a survivor of the North Dakota Depression Years, whose cover is below, and is twinned with another book, written in 1995 by Bill Gates, founder of Microsoft and today one of the worlds richest people, and with his spouse Melinda, head of one of the greatest philanthropic Foundations.

Gates, pictured below at age 13 (from “The Road Ahead“) did look ahead near 25 years ago and was, in my opinion, quite right on about the present he and other foresaw.  As for Unrestorable Habitat, Lois Phillips Hudson looked ahead with less enthusiasm about the Microsoft World.  She had spent most of her school years in then  tiny pre-World War II Redmond, graduating from high school there, and then editing the local newspaper.  And after retiring from the University of Washington, she made her home in her old hometown.  Her book was published as she had left it when she died…near, but not quite finished. She had worked on it from 2001 to 2010.  I found the book to be full of food for thought, with many vignettes from both North Dakota farm life during the Great Depression (which she richly recounts in the still available Bones of Plenty) and Redmond WA in the not so good old days of the 1930s.

Ideas are wonderful things to explore.  In my opinion, these two largely unknown books are ‘twins’ of a unique kind.

Paul Allen (left) and 13 year old Bill Gates at Lakeside School, Seattle, 1968

There are many stories I’d like to tell about our fourteen days on the road; over 400 photographs, many of which might be of interest to you.  How to sum up, though, I think I’ll include just a single photo from the magnificent Calaveras Redwood Forest in Caliifornia.

Redwood Forest Calaveras Co California; no, the red at the top of the photo doesn’t belong there…some unsolicited color entered the camera.  I still like the tree.

SOME PERSONAL THOUGHTS.

Some Acknowledgements:  Our Dad had something of a rule, which to the best of my knowledge he followed: “after three days, dead fish and relatives smell”.  June 1-15 was as much an opportunity to touch base with persons we knew, and I hope we didn’t wear out anyone’s welcome!  In the process, we met some others who we’d like to stay in touch with.  With no intent of making a complete list, here are those whose hospitality was gratefully accepted:  Emmett, Kathy, Leon, John, Wests, Parrish’s and Knutson’s of Petaluma, the Colorado Bernards, Robin and David, Flatleys and Hagebocks and Heather, of course.  On the AMTRAK we met Dwayne and Mary from Albuquerque [see coment at the end of this post], and Edith and Randy from Portland area (his article in Sojourners is referenced above.)  There are many others whose names I didn’t get.  And an array of friendly people.  I don’t recall any sour notes.  We’re glad we went and we’re glad we’re back home!  Thank you all.

Homelessness:  During the trip I decided to keep the front section of one daily paper each paper from the area we were visiting.  It would not surprise that the front page never matched the reality we experienced in Seattle, Salem or Davis.

June 4, our second day in Seattle, The Seattle Times banner headline was “Angst over homelessness drives many Seattle voters”.  The issue appeared to be homeless folks living in their cars and parking on city streets in neighborhoods.  It caused me to look for other evidences of ‘homelessness’ as we travelled.  It was often noted, but not so often apparent from day to day life on any of the streets we frequented.

Down the block from our hotel, (I frequented the local Starbucks each early morning),  I watched Seattle come alive at the corner of 4th and Pine (below photo), a few blocks from the flying fish of Pike Place.  An occasional person of the street stopped by the trash cans across the sidewalk and street, trolling for whatever.  They bothered no one, no one bothered them.  Off they went.  It was a daily dance.

Days later, when our train approached Sacramento in the very early daylight of June 10, we saw occasional ‘settlements’ along the railroad.  They were difficult to photograph, below is one of them.  In the June 11, Sacramento Bee was a guest column by Joe Perez, which I found quite interesting.  You can read it here. Here’s the pdf of the Perez article: Homeless – Perez001

June 10, 2019, from AMTRAK coach, approaching Sacramento CA

The issue is endless, of course, and without a single ‘one size fits all’ answer.  Who is the last actual street person you saw in person?  Who was the last one before him or her?  What do you know about him or her?  Homelessness is a complex problem.  Not every street person wants a home to live in, with rules, etc.  But it did occur to me that the typical conversation about the issue infrequently acknowledges the other side of the story.  Every single homeless person, anywhere, at minimum has a mother and a father; is an absent member of some family somewhere; perhaps has brothers and sisters; may be an uncle or aunt who has gone missing, and is missed by somebody.  The issue is never clean, over and done.  (The wonderful lady who conducted our tour at the Leland Stanford mansion by the State Capitol in Sacramento used to counsel girls who were residents there in its day as a residential facility, many of whom came from difficult and highly unhealthy home environments.  People I suppose would have been called ‘wayward girls’, from tough circumstances.)

I got to thinking back to the most powerful speech I ever heard, in May of 1982, to the Board of Catholic Charities in the Twin Cities.  It was delivered by the then-director Mgsr. Jerome Boxleitner, and someone asked it to be reprinted in the Charities newsletter, which it was.  I still send it on from time to time.  Here’s the story in its powerful brevity: Mgsr Boxleitner May 1982001

Sandwich Boards:  First day in Davis, John took us on a walking tour of the campus of University of California at Davis.  The link takes you to a history of this phenomenal university, which is quite youthful, but has a deserved world-class reputation.

Along the way, we came across an array of Sandwich boards, announcing a diverse collection of organizations seeking student attention.  There were more than I could get in a single photograph.  They stood silently and orderly, presumably ready to be called into action.  It seemed an excellent idea.

UC Davis leapt to national notoriety during the Occupy Days of fall 2011, probably something they’d prefer not to call attention to.  Google UC Davis pepper spray incident for more information if you wish.  [POSTNOTE: see John’s comment at the end of this post.]

My brother John pointed out ‘ground zero’, sitting quietly on our route.

Several days earlier, at Pike Place in Seattle, a solitary figure carrying his placard caught my attention, as he was respectfully making his cause known to anyone who expressed an interest.

Here he is.  I never talked in person with him, but the website is a working one.  Take a look.  Agree or disagree the man was presenting his views, respectfully.

The Gallery: One of the most interesting side trips was to tour the State Capitol Building in Sacramento, and the most intriguing part of that was to be introduced to the recent Governors of California, including Jerry Brown, Ronald Reagan and Arnold Schwarzenegger – among others.

This should have been routine…an endless of array of distinguished white men in suit and tie, looking distinguished.

The wall in front of us included portraits of six former Govs, but none of Jerry Brown, the last incumbent governor (term ended in 2019), and also governor in 1975-83, and also son of one of the former governors.

But where was Jerry  Brown?

The tour guide noted one Governor who violated the dress code for ex-governors.  He had on the appropriate garb, but not a suit coat like the others.  Jerry Brown?  His portrait is outside the Secretary of States office.  Of course I had to take a look.  Below are the photos,

 

The Governors Wall on the Tour – included six recent past Governors, but not Jerry Brown

Jerry Brown, hanging alone outside the Secretary of States office, State Capitol, Sacramento

Needless to say, Gov. Jerry’s portrait attracts attention.  There’s the old saying, “clothes don’t make the man”.  Neither do the portraits.  Personally, I like the governor, the motive for the portrait and the spirit.

Glimpses at a few Lives:  Waiting for our train at Salem was an old man.  He asked us to watch his duffel as he used the bathroom.  He was neat and clean, and his sleeveless shirt revealed a US Marine Corps tattoo.

We engaged in conversation.  He was 86, Mexican, had been in the Marines as a young man, and was heading home to the Los Angeles area.  He had seen heavy action in Korea (the action called Bunker Hill), and lost two fellow Marines in combat – the memories still follow him.)

Some months back he and his wife of 63 years lost almost everything in the Paradise fire; two weeks later she collapsed and died in a doctors office of a heart attack.

He was starting over, reminiscing as folks can do.

In the conversation, he said they had prepared for the worst, and put aside a package of essential papers just in case they needed ever to leave their home suddenly.  As fire danger increased, his wife said, “don’t forget your dress blues” – his Marine uniform, which still fit.  His grandson was about to conclude Marine basic training, and asked Grandpa to be there in uniform so he could be the first person with whom to share a salute.  Best I know, mission was accomplished, or will be, soon.

We didn’t get his name, even a first name, but we’ll never forget him.

On another occasion, we met three people, husband, wife, son, who were among the group that is intended to be the target of the latest announced sweep to rid the country of illegals.  Our meeting was brief, at a home, and we didn’t take photos or get names.  They were very nice people, “tax payers” hardly a public enemy as they have been declared.  They were moving to another community and I will always wonder about how they’re doing in this ‘lock em up and send em back where they came from” era.

Headline News:  Each day we were on the ground, in Seattle, Salem and Davis, I picked up the local papers and saved the A section, which includes the front page.  I have them all, and just looked at them again.

Suffice to say, the daily headlines “above the fold”, do not reflect the America we experienced in their communities when we were there, at the exact same time in history.  Our country is full of far better people, and thus a far better place than the news portrays us.  Yes, there are hugely serious problems, and I’m not dismissing them.  But at the basic level, far ‘below the fold’, most people want to figure out how better to simply get along.  To be otherwise, is suicidal for them and our society.

I look again at that map of the AMTRAK, and the lines we rode June 1-15 in the northwest of our country.    That map shows a reality: much of our country is still relatively empty.  It is possible for someone to live out in rural America to believe, really believe, that they can survive on their own,  without having to tolerate any messiness from outside.  “Just leave us alone”.

The problem is very obvious.  Our nation, and our world, and all of us, are tied together in a way that will come unbound only with an unmitigated disaster that will kill or severely damage every single one of us, present and future.  We are not in the nostalgic times of my youth back in the 1950s.  It wasn’t that great then, and it certainly isn’t now.

Imagine, for a moment, even the possibility of cutting the internet, which has become our communication circulatory system – the blood vessels of contemporary life.  Imagine it being destroyed, or severely damaged, or infected with some terrible disease (think ‘fake news’).  For most, now, in our country and most others, internets of all sorts make us completely interdependent on each other.  And vulnerable in ways formerly unknown.

But, the trip was wonderful.  A time to enjoy, but also an important time to reflect on who and where we are, an where we are going.

Thanks for reading.

If you have a Facebook Account, I have posted a Facebook album including over 200  snapshots of our 2016 journey.  You can see it here.  It is as yet un-captioned.  This is a work in progress.  The photos are in the same sequence as our travel.

Enjoy.

COMMENTS BELOW AND AT END OF POST:

from Lois: It is so nice to have you back posting on various subjects!  In January 1961, at 1am I boarded the Amtrak in VC [Valley City ND] headed for San Francisco; not sure if we took the Seattle loop or just the track from Spokane to Portland.  It was winter in Spokane and astonishing to see green grass and trees everywhere by mid day after a miserable night in a coach seat.   I stayed in SF [San Francisco] area in California for 25 years, then 5 in Sacramento so reading your blog reminded me of those very different years….albeit from the headlines of today.    I enjoyed your recent journey as much as mine.

from Dwayne (a person met on the train) Thanks so much for the wonderful books by National Geographic. They are delightful. I am particularly interested in the possibility that an Ivory-Billed Woodpecker might still be living in the southern woods, so I read the story in your book about the search which they went through to try to find and document an Ivory-billed Woodpecker.  It was amazing. They hauled with them some huge battery powered recording equipment. When they found the woodpecker the nearest road was impassable for the truck carrying the equipment. They had to disassemble everything, put it into a horse drawn wagon, re-solder all the necessary connections and then use four horses to get everything close enough to the nest to record the calls. That was nearly the last verifiable sighting of the woodpecker. The few sightings reported since then are mostly open to question.

A few days after reading your book I got my monthly publication from the Cornell Library. Lo and behold, the feature article was about the trip I had just finished reading about in your book. I was dumfounded. They had obviously been doing research in the National Geo. books.
I feel guilty having those all to myself so I may put them in the care of a friend. The University of New Mexico has one of the largest collections of bird skins in the U.S. in their Museum of Southwestern Biology. They have a very active graduate school for those wanting to study Ornithology. Chris Witt is the director of the Museum and is active in some of our local birding activities. I might talk to him about making the books available for his graduate students. Would that be OK with you?  [see my response below].
I really enjoyed your piece on your family farm. Our family experience in Colorado was somewhat similar but nobody was committed enough to make and keep photos. We have a few but no one knows who the people are.
Thanks again for your kind generosity. I really appreciate it.
Response from Dick: Great to hear from you.  Re the books, they are yours to do with as you wish.  I’m really glad you have a desire to pass them on.  Better than lying in a box in my garage, which they’d done for the last five years!  I was interested in the coincidence you reported re the geographics.  Many people dismiss history, especially this sort of thing.  Who cares?  My response is, all it takes is one person [who cares], and I have no idea who it will be.  But someone will be glad someone unknown to them did the spadework back then.  I hope we can keep in touch.

The U. S.- Soviet Bering Strait Expedition of 1989.

NOTE: I will be offline June 1-15, ‘riding the rails’ to the west coast.

*

You never know what will blow in off the internet.

Friday came an e-letter about Paul Schurke and Dmitry Shparo, who co-led the U.S. Soviet Bering Strait Expedition in 1989.  The 30th anniversary of that expedition is June 3.  The writer noted that an overlooked fact was that a reunion of Schurke and Shparo was a planned part of the Mikhail and Raisa Gorbachevs visit to the Twin Cities June 3, 1990.

In fact, the reunion of the two young men was one of the main reasons for the visit of the Gorbachev’s.  There were other items on their agenda, to be sure, but a main reason was to recognize the bilateral cooperative venture between two citizens of the world involving two cold war nations, Russia and the United States.

I had blogged about Gorbachevs visit in 1990, my June 4, 2011 blog at this space (here).  The writing was based on information I had at the time, including that day in which I had done my best to follow the Gorbachev entourage around during that chilly sometimes drippy day of June 3, 1990.  The post was picked up by the Twin Cities Daily Planet, here, which is what the letter writer had seen and was responding to.

I didn’t know, till yesterday, via the surprise e-mail (see postnote, below), that a main reason for Gorbachev’s stopover in Minnesota was to give Paul Schurke and Dmitry Shparo an opportunity to reconnect – information overwhelmed by local, national and international politics – a visit by Mikhail Gorbachev to Minneapolis was, after all, a very big deal, especially in 1990.

My favorite photo, then and now, was watching the Soviet “Air Force One” preparing to take off from Twin Cities airport.  One of my photos is below. What a memory.  I wish I could transmit to you the sound of the planes engines on takeoff.  In those days you could still stand near the fence by the runway.  Oh how things have changed.

Evening, June 3, 1990, Twin Cities Airport. Gorbachev airplane. photo Dick Bernard

Each of us of a certain age, who lived as adults in the 1980s remember the adventures of this decade.  I deeply appreciate the opportunity to look back, even though I was only an interested spectator!

Gorbachev’s at Minnesota Governors Mansion June 3, 1990 (front page of Minneapolis Star Tribune)

POSTNOTE: The mysterious e-mail arrived in my junk mail at 11:21 a.m. on Friday, May 31.  It’s sender was someone I didn’t know, who I probably will never meet, since the writer lives hundreds of miles away.  The writer didn’t know that at the same time the e-mail was zipping across the internet I was meeting with a man who is in the final stages of a yet to be released film, The World Is My Country, a film which will be – my opinion – a game-changer for today’s young people who might have trouble feeling optimistic about the future we’re leaving behind for them.  The kids have not yet had the opportunity to see it.

In their way, Paul Schurke and Dmitry Shparo (and many others like them, (including World Is My Country star, Garry Davis, long before them) have blazed a trail for the rest of us.  All we need to do is to dust ourselves off and help todays young people save the future, whose prospects we have so badly damaged.

About a year ago I tried to bring some personal definition to where we are at this point in history.  If you’re interested, go here, and read pages 25-26 of “A Rough Draft for History”.  What is your analysis?  What can you contribute?