History

The Old West

~ adriennecohen221 ~ Leave a comment

20151108_111650It may actually be more a lazy stroll than a “drive,” but the longhorns and the drovers never fail to gather a crowd as they appear for their twice daily parade down Exchange Street. The historic Fort Worth Stockyards District is not exactly the Old West. But when the buildings and the beasts are reflected in the sparkle of children’s eyes,  it does seem almost like the Old West. If only for just a moment.

As they parade down the cobblestone street, herded by “cowboys” on horseback, these impressive animals give us just a glimpse of that past, the time of “beef on the hoof.” Familiar cattle trails stretched like highways across the plains, into the high country and on to railheads and markets throughout the West and Midwest.20151108_113639 - Copy (2)Men and animals, in those days, were both larger than life. At the heart of the legends are the longhorns and the stampedes.

Today, Fort Worth’s herd probably couldn’t even be prodded to take off running, but it’s still quite impressive to see the big beasts with their six-foot horn-spans up close and personal. It’s even possible to climb on the back of a tethered longhorn in order to pose for a snapshot.  It was a beautiful day — crisp, clear and sunny. In the stockyards district, the towering buildings of modern, downtown Fort Worth fade away.

It’s the spectacle that draws people, and although it bears little resemblance to the running of the bulls in Pamplona, to cattle drives of old, or to a working ranch, it does transport spectators back to the day when Fort Worth truly was “where the West begins.” 20151108_111447

It’s the spirit of the place, as well as its heritage.

I, for one, am very happy to stand on the sidewalk, admire the architecture, speak with the patient horsemen and smile at the children who are excited equally by the horses and the “cows.” In a period of about four years from 1866 to 1870 more than four million head of cattle passed through Fort Worth, and were “driven” along the Chisholm Trail to Abilene, Kan. Then, other trails developed, as did other markets. The range was open, and beef was a diet staple.

Those days, however, actually did not last long. The growth of settlements, the arrival of the railroads and westward expansion all took their toll. The long cattle drives were hard on the cowboys and hard on the cattle, and they were over by about 1890.20151108_113946

As a product of the American West, I am aware of other cowtowns: Miles City, Mont., Medora, N.D., Las Vegas, N.M. Some have played prominently in my past. I know the names — Abilene, Dodge and Wichita, Cheyenne, Greeley and Prescott; Amarillo and Wichita Falls back in Texas. I know the stories. I grew up with the lore. They all retain some of the spirit of the frontier. So, too, does Fort Worth. And that is comforting.

Even though Fort Worth is not a frontier town today, it is protective of its cowtown past and personality. These urban longhorns live on here, and they get their daily exercise by parading along a route that played such an important part in the development of the country, the taming of the West and the feeding of the nation. 20151108_114431 (3)

Driving around Texas, it’s still possible to spot longhorns grazing on private land. After many years, the breed is today making a comeback, not only for sentimental reasons, but also because lean beef is much in demand. Only in Fort Worth, though, is it possible to see them in this way, on twice-daily cattle drives, close enough to reach out and touch!

Not only is it worth a trip to see the Fort Worth herd; it’s a trip back in time, one that is highly recommended and fun for old and young alike.

Note: The history of the Fort Worth Stockyards is fascinating, and special events, including rodeos and livestock auctions, are still held here. Read More. In 1976, the area was designated a National Historical District.

Photograph of longhorn pair via Flickr by Amy the Nurse; all others by author.

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There be dragons

~ adriennecohen221 ~ Leave a comment

BHBD

For years, I pored over historic maps, examined old globes and spent hours looking at the edges of tattered nautical charts hoping to glimpse those letters: BHBD.  20151201_103125 (1)

My searches never yielded any kind of “Eureka” moment, but I held fast to the romantic notion that someday I would encounter that cryptic message. Some other friends also believed the oft-repeated notion that ancient mapmakers noted the ends of the known world with the notation, “Beyond here be dragons.”

As it turns out, it simply isn’t so. And it’s a disappointment, for a lot of reasons. First, it was not just my fantasy, but a commonly held belief. I feel cheated somehow, and duped. No matter how silly it seems, I still choose to believe that out there, somewhere, there be dragons.

The notion has fueled my wanderlust for decades; I am certain that old salts and continental explorers fully expected dragons when they embarked on those journeys into the beyond. Instead they encountered wonders, and that was sufficient to keep them moving.

But do you think they secretly longed for the dragons? I still choose to believe so.

Those who today visit the depths of the oceans and those who venture into space must, I think, still be searching for them.

Back to those dragons

Truth be told, apparently, there are no maps that bear any sort of legend concerning dragons — here, there or beyond.

There is one reference — in Latin, mind you — on a small globe dating to the early years of the sixteenth century (1503-1507). It is now in the possession of the New York Public Library; it is the first to depict the Americas in reasonable perspective, and it notes “HC svnt dracones” along the eastern line of Asia.

But, even though there are other beasts on its copper surface, there are, unfortunately, no dragons. (There is also some doubt about the translation from Latin — does it really mean “here be dragons?”) Another question that will not be answered, apparently, any time soon.

The only other map that anyone can point to is a real leap for those who search for dragons on the pages of vellum. The phrase “Here There Be Dragons” was reportedly used for an unknown polar region labeled Terra Incognita on the asteroid Vesta in a paper submitted by Michael Gaffey of Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute for the planetary science journal Icarus.

Just what is it about dragons?

There are dragons, large and small, worldwide, it seems. Not only Saint George, but countless others — Norsemen and Chinese, among others — searched for and battled dragons. There are Japanese, North American Indian and Ethiopian dragons; they lived in Scandinavian, Welsh and German myth and in the mind of J.R.R. Tolkien.

There are dragon sculptures and dragon jewelry and dragon tattoos.

There is a final reference to the phrase  (and the title of the book) by David Koerner and Simon LeVay in “The Scientific Quest for Extraterrestrial Life.”

During my travels, especially on the sea, I have over and over again scanned the horizon for dragons, just as I still sneak quick peeks at the edges of old maps. I am certain I always will.

I cannot put aside the conviction that, somewhere, beyond the known limits of the page or of this world, somewhere . . .

There be dragons

Koerner and LeVay say in their introduction: “The same sense of mystery, the same lure to adventure, now colors the unexplored lands of the cosmos. Welcome to the dragon hunt.” 

Indeed.

Let’s all remember our veterans

~ adriennecohen221 ~ Leave a comment
Poppy by Jenny Downing via Flickr
Poppy by Jenny Downing via Flickr

Today we are a long way in both space and time from the beaches at Normandy, the air fields of England and the islands of the Pacific, from the Gallipolli Campaign and the battlefields of Verdun, and from Gettysburg and Appomattox. We are also, too often, emotionally distant from the world’s current hot spots.

We have come a long way from those “great wars” that so gripped the spirit and the determination of a people. In the intervening century and a half, Americans have become war-weary, uncertain about the “just” causes we embark upon, and tired of it all. Today, fewer than one half of one percent (that’s 0.4%) of the population get up in the morning to dress in a uniform of the armed services. We still have troops around the world, however, and some of them are still dying for their country.

Veterans Day is November 11 and, because it falls on a Wednesday this year, I can’t help but wonder how many Americans will even think of its significance, or consider the millions of veterans who have served in our nation’s military services. At 11 a.m. on the 11th day of the 11th month, how many of us will stop what we are doing to give a moment’s thought or a silent prayer for those who serve in the military. It’s not a long weekend, after all, not really a holiday, and it’s easy to forget. But those who daily don a uniform, whether they serve at home or in a war zone, cannot forget.

At the World War I Memorial in Kansas City, an Assyrian Sphinx shields its eyes from the war horrors.
At the World War I Memorial in Kansas City, an Assyrian Sphinx shields its eyes from the horrors of war.

The date and time commemorate the World War I armistice that was signed in a rail car in the forest of Compiegne, east of Paris, at 5 a.m. on a cold morning in 1918. It became effective six hours later — at 11 a.m. local time — and was for a period of 30 days, subsequently renewed many times. It represented a “ragged” peace, made even more so because the final peace treaty was not actually negotiated and agreed upon by all parties to the Great War until June of the following year.

The day was originally known as Armistice Day, and it is celebrated in France and other European nations as well as in Canada and the United Kingdom, where it is also known as Remembrance Day or Poppy Day.

The world was ready for peace. Unfortunately, the peace that seemed so hard won did not last all that long. And there have been, since then, far too few moments of worldwide peace. Perhaps all the more reason to remember those who serve daily in our armed services.

Veterans Day Flag Ceremony - Photo by Loren Javler via Flickr
Veterans Day Flag Ceremony – Photo (2009) by Loren Javler via Flickr

Veterans Day is more than a day to honor the dead — that occurs, in somber tribute, on Memorial Day in the spring. Veterans Day is, rather, the time to think of those who wear the uniform in both peace and war, those currently alive and those who served in the past. Because it falls just after election day, it is a good time to talk to children about the duties and responsibilities of citizenship, and to speak about patriotism and pride.

If you live in a city or town that has any sort of military museum, monument or memorial, November is a good month to visit, to think about the rights and privileges we all enjoy due to the continuing service of our service men and women. It gives us all a chance to think about history, and to forge the future that will become our legacy.

SOS — Saving a Grand Old Ship

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By Frederic Logghe [GFDL], via Wikimedia Commons

A long-ago time, and in faraway places, the S.S. United States was a bright and shining example of American ingenuity, achievement and spirit. She is still grand and imposing, but her shine has given way to age; her paint is peeling, her interiors are empty; she has suffered greatly from years of sitting still.

There are those of us who would dearly love to see her live on, to enjoy another incarnation so that present and future generations could be awed by the sight of her — her size, her beauty and her story.

But, I fear that is not to be.

Three news networks this week have told her story. Those who are desperately trying to save her say that the deadline is near – maybe less than two weeks away – when they will be forced to give up the fight. Rent alone at her dock costs $60,000 a month, and before Christmas this year, the money will have run out.

Susan Gibbs, executive director of the conservancy that is seeking a benefactor, says the end of October marks the deadline. After that, she notes, negotiations with a “responsible recycler” will begin. This is not a new development, but it is no less disturbing. The ship has faced the wrecking ball before. But she has, in the past, been granted a “stay.”

For Ms. Gibbs, it’s personal. She is the granddaughter of the ship’s designer, naval architect William Francis Gibbs.

It’s personal for me too.

In a very real sense, the U.S. United States was a matchmaker; she was the reason I met my future husband almost 50 years ago.

At that time, she had been called into service to help move American servicemen and their families out of Europe, and specifically to move them home from France. She was still carrying paying passengers as well, but in some cases, American military families made a five-day passage to New York aboard this swift liner. They ate in the elegant dining rooms, were served by impeccably uniformed staff, and experienced a lifestyle that only a few tourists of the time shared. Luxury ocean liner travel then was the domain, for the most part, of the rich and famous.

But when General DeGaulle of France decreed on March 10, 1966, that foreign military in his country must withdraw or submit to French control, a massive logistical effort began almost immediately to relocate military families. The one-year deadline loomed large; time was of the essence. Even though air travel could accommodate the humans, shipment of household goods and automobiles had to be by sea. At the time, utilizing available staterooms and the cavernous below-deck holds of this great ship made a lot of sense.

So it was that the paths of one young U.S. Army lieutenant and one young working journalist converged one day on a dock in Le Havre, France. He was newly-assigned to help meet the deadline, charged with the responsibility of scheduling military travel and moving belongings. I had a story to write about the huge effort.

No, it wasn’t romantic; we were not her passengers. But she loomed large on the docks in Le Havre as we looked along her more than three-football-fields length and up at her 12-stories above-the-water countenance.

Just a little more than one year later, when there were no military personnel left in France, it was largely due to the S.S. United States and the numbers of people and tons of belongings that she transported back to American shores.

Yes, she was impressive then.

She is still impressive now. Her peeling paint and her empty decks do not detract from her presence and her lines. She still looms larger than life, even though she has sat silent far longer than she ever plied the seas. She was in service only from 1952 through 1969, silenced when she was only 17.

My personal story continues with her. In another tale of endings, my parents considered themselves fortunate to be among her passengers on a scheduled North Atlantic crossing in November 1969. They enjoyed the experience immensely, and they disembarked in New York. The ship was bound for Newport News and a refurbishing “furlough,” but she never returned to service. My father thought it ironic, in his later years, that he had sailed on one of the last troop-carrying voyages of Cunard’s Queen Mary, as it ferried American servicemen home after World War II, as well as on the final crossing of the S.S. United States.

S.S. United States, Philadelphia, 2005

The rebirth of cruising vacations came too late.

Today, the irony is that more people than ever before take to the sea for vacations. Cruising ships have grown larger, accommodations more deluxe, and onboard amenities overwhelming. The S.S. United States was the last American-flagged passenger vessel afloat. She was also the largest ship ever to be built in the United States. She is substantial even by today’s standards, although her passenger load was not quite 2,000 in 692 staterooms, with a crew of just over 1,000. But, she had a distinctive look about her, with two stacks towering almost 65 feet above her decks. And she was fast. She remains the Blue Riband-Hales Trophy winner. She set the speed record for crossing the North Atlantic on her maiden voyage in 1952, snatching it away from the Queen Mary. It has not since been broken!

Both Cunard’s Queen Mary and the S.S. United States were known for elegance and speed. Both were designed for passenger comfort, but built to carry troops in case of need. Both served well. Both today are listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

View a slideshow of the S.S. United States.

There the similarities, unfortunately, end. The Queen Mary is now a popular hotel and tourist attraction in Long Beach, Calif. The S.S. United States rots at the dock in Philadelphia.

Surely, she too has value as a destination resort, a museum, an office building, a shopping center, or a funky condominium development. Or, am I just out of touch with reality?

As Susan Gibbs and others have stated in recent news interviews, “We have never been so close to saving her; and we have never been so close to losing her.” Save Our Ship (SOS) efforts are ongoing. But, hopes are beginning to fade.

I will continue to hope. Yes, it’s very personal.