If you are of a certain age, you will remember this Pultizer Prize winning photograph of a US Air Force officer returning from the Hanoi Hilton in 1974.
Dwight has the details, and it is quite a sad story. Rest In Peace, COL Stirm. I hope you now truly have the opportunity to put out your hand and touch the face of God.
Sometimes you see things and know that the only possible reason these items are for sale is that the original owner has passed.
IN MEMORY OF MY SERVICE
CAPTAIN IN THE PHILIPPINES
CAPTAIN ARTHUR J. BROCKWAY
ANTI TANK COMPANY
383RD INFANTRY
96TH DIVISION
It's a set of carabao horns, the water buffalo that is the working draft animal in the Philippines. The carving was done in the Philippines, I saw similar, but much newer, work during my time there. The crossed flags are the 48 star American flag and the Philippine flag. The artwork on the horns are local scenes.
The 96th Division, The Deadeyes, made a beach landing in the Philippines and served in combat during the Philippine Campaign and then again on Okinawa. Five members of the Division received the Medal of Honor. There's a foundation with an online museum.
We had come into town to go to a museum, but it was closed that day. The local junk shop became our alternative. In Salamanca, N.Y., it was a furniture store turned into dozens of alcoves, each stocked by a hopeful seller. Antiques, books, clothes, tools, and so on. On one of the shelves was Capt. Brockway's mementos. The horns, all his patches, and his rank insignia. Echoes of a lifetime.
Lawrence has the details. You can turn the damn stuff off. And oh by the way, they're getting sued over it.
Sometimes we would find ourselves in a place so captivating we would decide to spend all our time in the park. We talked to the ranger in the museum and later with a docent and author that was giving the tours at the Commanding Officer's quarters. Rode our bikes around and in the late afternoon as the sun was fading, hiked up to the overlook.
This is the view looking down from the blockhouses toward the Missouri River. The building you can see are the barracks and the Commanding Officer's quarters.
Fort Abraham Lincoln was a U.S. Army fort built on the banks of the Missouri River in 1873 along the construction route of the Northern Pacific Railroad. It was built on what had been Mandan tribal land until a smallpox outbreak killed about 95% of the settlement in 1837. The 150 survivors had abandoned the area and settled in with another nearby tribe.
There were no battles fought at the fort. The cavalry garrisoned here did participate in putting down a Sioux uprising in the summer of 1876. The commanding officer of the fort was Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer and this is where he and the 600 men under his command rode out from.
The need for the fort was gone in less than twenty years and the Army abandoned it in 1891. Local civilians stripped the fort for it's lumber, nails, and hardware, leaving only the foundations and memories.
In 1907, Pr. Theodore Roosevelt signed the land over to North Dakota for use as a park. In the 1930s, the Civilian Conservation Corps had a unit assigned to the area. They built an administration building, offices, garages, roads, and the service buildings. They also worked from the foundations and surviving documents to rebuild the fort.
None of the original buildings had survived. Everything in the park is a CCC reproduction. The layout of the fort, all the buildings, can been seen on a walk, with interpretive signs. Two barracks have been restored and set up to look as they did in 1875. The blockhouses and support buildings were rebuilt as well. The C.O.'s quarters was rebuilt later, in 1989 as part of the North Dakota Centennial.
In addition to the structures in the fort, the CCC worked with a local Mandan woman who served as a historical resource to build a section of a Mandan village consisting of five full size lodgehouses. It is maintained and used to display artifacts and interpretive displays about the Mandan.
The CCC administration building is now the park museum. This isn't mine, but it's a slideshow of pictures of the museum and the Mandan village set to music.
I expect some comments about the things that Pr. Roosevelt got wrong, but I have a real appreciation for one thing he and his Administration got right. The Civilian Conservation Corps.
Established in 1933, it was a government program run by the Army that accepted young men 17-25 and put them to work. The CCC built Skyline Drive, Big Bend National Park, over 700 state parks, over 3,400 firetowers, fought wildfires, worked at flood relief, and a long list of projects. At it's largest, in 1935, there were 500,000 men involved, overall 3 million served. Most of them starting wearing a different uniform in 1942 and the program was shut down.
We ran into the legacy of the CCC everywhere. The style of the work they did is iconic. Driving into a park, you might only need to see one building to know the CCC had been involved and we saw it over and over.
This song is an anthem from Old America. I listened to this as a teenager, and you (Old Farts) know how old I am. This is from a time when politics was not Uber Alles, and when Americans could have civil conversations even if they were in opposite parties.
ASM836 has been posting about how he went on a road trip and found that Old America is sill here. This song sings to that, even if Arlo was a Commie Bastard - and son of a Commie Bastard - but he endorsed Ron Paul (!). Because back then we were always America First, even back in the 1970s. I think that this proves my point, that we shouldn't hate Americans because they are in the other political party.
Arlo Guthrie, City Of New Orleans (Songwriter: Steve Goodman):
City Of New Orleans (Songwriter: Steve Goodman)
Riding on the City of New Orleans
Illinois Central, Monday morning rail;
There are fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders,
Three conductors, twenty five sacks of mail.
They're all out on a southbound odyssey
The train rolls out of Kankakee
Rolling past the houses, farms and fields,
Passing trains that have no names
Freight yards full of old black men,
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.
Singing, "Good morning, America, how are you?
Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son.
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans.
And I'll be gone five hundred miles when day is done."
I was dealing cards with the old men in the club car,
It's a penny a point, there ain't no-one keeping score.
Won't you pass the paper bag that holds that bottle,
You can feel the wheels a-rumbling through the floor.
And the sons of Pullman porters and the sons of engineers
Ride their fathers' magic carpet made of steam;
Mothers with their babes asleep, rocking to the gentle beat,
The rhythm of the rails is all they dream.
Singing, "Good morning, America, how are you?
Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son.
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans.
And I'll be gone five hundred miles when day is done."
Nighttime on the City of New Orleans,
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee.
It's halfway home, and we'll be there by morning,
Through the Mississippi darkness rolling down to the sea.
But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream,
The old steel rail it ain't heard the news,
The conductor sings his song again, it's, "Passengers will please refrain..."
This train's got the disappearing railroad blues.
Singing, "Good night, America, how are you?
Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son.
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans.
And I'll be gone five hundred miles when day is done."
Singing, "Good night, America, how are you?
Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son.
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans.
And I'll be gone a long, long time when the day is done."
As with all great songs about America, this is bitter sweet. This was once the artery that pumped blood between America's different regions. Now - in the 1970s - it was dying as a passenger system.
But people remembered what it was. Here's the Highwaymen who did this almost as well as Arlo. Waylon makes this almost what it was. Sure, Willie carries this, but watch Waylon.
America is not gone. Art tells us what it was, and is, and can be.
That's what ASM826 is telling us. America is here. Just look around.
It might the Cougars, the Owls, the Warriors, or any other of a thousand team names. When you get to the outskirts of a town with a high school, there will be a sign, a statue, or a billboard with the team mascot welcoming you. When you walk into the gas station or the grocery store, there will be pictures of the team. High school football matters to these towns. There's history and bragging rights on the line.
In Oakley Kansas, it was the Plainsmen.
It's been some time since we had a blogshoot here. Please leave a comment to this post if you'd consider attending one in the greater Tampa area in January or February. My co-blogger and Brother-From-Another-Mother ASM826 has said he will come , so all the Cool Kids will be there.
Please include date preference.
