dual personalities

“All is a procession, The universe is a procession with measured and perfect motion.”*

by chuckofish

Yesterday we highlighted the great James B. Eads. Well, here are a few more fun facts to know and tell about another of those great mid-19th century Americans we love–even though this one has no connection to our flyover town that we know of!

On this day in 1844 Samuel Morse sent the message “What hath God wrought” (Numbers 23:23) from the Old Supreme Court Chamber in the U.S. Capitol to his assistant, Alfred Vail, in Baltimore, Maryland to inaugurate a commercial telegraph line between Baltimore and Washington D.C.

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Samuel Finley Breese Morse (April 27, 1791 – April 2, 1872), American painter and inventor, was one of those guys who had it all going on. The son of a fiery Calvinist preacher, he graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Yale and became a noted portrait painter. The Marquis de Lafayette and Presidents Adams and Monroe were among his subjects.

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Gallery of the Louvre, 1833–Morse selected masterpieces from the Musée du Louvre’s collection and “reinstalled” them in one of the museum’s grandest spaces, the Salon Carr, envisioning that space as a workshop in which individuals study, sketch, and copy from his imagined assemblage.

His monumental “Gallery of the Louvre” was the culmination of a three-year period of study in Europe. Morse exhibited it only twice, in New York and New Haven, where it was highly praised by critics and connoisseurs but rejected by the public. Crushed by the response, Morse soon ceased painting altogether, moving on to his more successful experiments in communications technology and the invention of the Electro-Magnetic Telegraph.

During 1843, he successfully deployed the 38-mile telegraph line along the way of Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. The first information given by the telegraph was that of the nomination of James K. Polk for the Presidency by the Baltimore convention. The official demonstration of Samuel Morse’s telegraph occurred on May 24, 1844, carrying the famous words “What hath God wrought” from the Supreme Court chamber in Washington D.C. to the B&O’s Mount Clare Station in Baltimore. This demonstration is remembered as the starting point of telegraph’s expansion across the world.

The demands for the telegraph constantly increased; they spread over every civilized country in the world, and became, by usage, “absolutely necessary for the well being of society.” Convinced of their folly in so long ignoring the invention of Prof. Morse, the nations of Europe at once vied with each other in the honors they bestowed upon the inventor. Within the next few years he received respectively the decoration of the Nishan Iflichai, set in diamonds, from the Sultan of Turkey, gold medals of scientific merit from the King of Prussia, the King of Wurtemburg, and the Emperor of Austria; a cross of Chevalier in the Legion of Honor from the Emperor of France; the cross of Knight of Dannebrog from the King of Denmark; the Cross of Knight Commander of the Order of Isabelia the Catholic, from the Queen of Spain, besides being elected member of innumerable scientific and art societies in this and other countries.

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And there is a statue of him in Central Park.

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“What hath God wrought” is an exclamation of wonder, but we might ask it as a question: “What hath God wrought?”

Discuss among yourselves.

[By the way, on April 1, 2012, Google announced the release of “Gmail Tap,” an April Fool’s Day joke that allowed users to use Morse Code to send text from their mobile phones. Morse’s great-great-grandnephew Reed Morse—a Google engineer—was instrumental in the prank, which ultimately became a real product. 🙄]

*Walt Whitman, “I Sing the Body Electric”

“The Mississippi River will always have its own way”*

by chuckofish

Today is the birthday of James Buchanan Eads (May 23, 1820 – March 8, 1887) who was a world-renowned civil engineer and inventor, holding more than 50 patents.

Eads was born in Lawrenceburg, Indiana, but grew up in St. Louis. He was named for his mother’s cousin, future President James Buchanan. (I did not know that!)

Eads made his initial fortune in salvage by creating a diving bell, using a forty-gallon wine barrel to retrieve goods sunk in riverboat disasters, which at the time was a very dangerous thing and nearly impossible. He also devised special boats for raising the remains of sunken ships from the river bed. Eads did much of the diving himself because the work was so dangerous. His work gave Eads an intimate knowledge of the river, as he explored its depths from the Gulf of Mexico to Iowa. Because of his detailed knowledge of the Mississippi (the equal of any professional river pilot), his exceptional ability at navigating the most treacherous parts of the river system, and his personal fleet of snag-boats and salvage craft, he was afforded the much-prized courtesy title of “Captain” by the rivermen of the Mississippi and was addressed as Captain Eads throughout his life.

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Eads designed and built the first road and rail bridge to cross the Mississippi River at St. Louis. The Eads Bridge, constructed from 1867 through 1874, was the first bridge of a significant size with steel as its primary material, and it was the longest arch bridge in the world when completed.

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The bridge under construction in 1870

Eads was the first bridge builder to employ the cantilever method, which allowed steam boat traffic to continue using the river during construction. The bridge is still in use today, carrying both automobile and light rail traffic over the river. The Eads Bridge is the only bridge to be named for its engineer.

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Eads’ accomplishments throughout his life earned him wealth and renown. Although he was living in New York at the time of his death, his funeral took place in St. Louis and he is buried in Bellefontaine Cemetery in the family vault. Eads is memorialized at my flyover university by James B. Eads Hall, erected in 1902-03, and long associated with science and technology.

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In fact, Eads Hall was the site of Professor Arthur Holly Compton’s Nobel Prize–winning experiments in electromagnetic radiation. 

So a toast to James Buchanan Eads–an awesome fellow, indeed!

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*Mark Twain

Iris time

by chuckofish

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Van Gogh

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Ogata Korin (18th century)

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YOSHIMOTO (吉本月荘 Japanese, 1881-1936)

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HIROSHIGE: “Summer in an Iris Garden”

 “Drab and colorless as her existence would seem to have been, Mrs. Harris had always felt a craving for beauty and color and which up to this moment had manifested itself in a love for flowers….

Outside the windows of her basement flat were two window boxes of geraniums, her favorite flower, and inside, wherever there was room, there was a little pot containing a geranium struggling desperately to conquer its environment, or a single hyacinth or tulip, bought from a barrow for a hard-earned shilling.

Then too, the people for whom she worked would sometimes present her with the leavings of their cut flowers which in their wilted state she would take home and try to nurse back to health, and once in a while, particularly in the spring, she would buy herself a little box of pansies, primroses or anemones. As long as she had flowers Mrs. Harris had no serious complaints concerning the life she led. They were her escape from the somber stone desert in which she lived. These bright flashes of color satisfied her. They were something to return to in the evening, something to wake up to in the morning.”

–Paul Gallico, Mrs. ‘Arris Goes to Paris

“Come down, O Love divine, seek thou this soul of mine”*

by chuckofish

On Saturday I got up early and headed to Queeny Park for the March of Dimes March for Babies walk.

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IMG_1068.jpgBy the end of the morning little Lottiebelle was over it…

IMG_1081.jpgbut the wee laddie was raring to go.

IMG_1082.jpgI was done in myself, but found the energy to hit three estate sales afterwards. I got a couple of old silver frames.

The rest of the day I spent puttering around and catching up with daughter #2 on the phone. We went out to dinner with old friends and gabbed away, and were home before cool people even head out on a Saturday night. I fell asleep watching an old movie.

It was Pentecost on Sunday, so the service was longer than usual and jazzed up with a brass quartet, plus we also recognized the high school/college graduates and Sunday School teachers, renewed our baptismal vows and heard all about the 18th century chasuble that our rector was wearing. The man who was the boy’s small group leader when he was active in K-Life back in middle school and who is now a chaplain at the Episcopal City Mission talked at the adult forum and made an announcement in church. It was nice to catch up with him after the service. He is married now and has four kids under the age of 10. Time flies.

After church I returned to one of the estate sales to check out what was left and half price. The dudes who direct the traffic at these particular sales, helped me wedge my Mini into a tiny spot right in front after they removed the cones for me. It was raining and I was grateful that chivalry is not dead. Plus I found a couple of things to put away for gifts. Score.

The wee babes and their parents came over as usual on Sunday night, so it was a bonus weekend for me, getting to see them twice.

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And now back to the salt mine. Have a blessed day!

*Hymn 516

Feeling my age

by chuckofish

I blissfully slept through the royal wedding. I can’t say I feel like I’ve missed anything, but good luck, best wishes, etc., etc.. I bet Harry and Meghan didn’t dance like Fred and Jane, but I wish they had.

It would have made a nice change from the usual formal, solemn, over-the-top display, don’t you think? Today’s nuptials reminded me of a line from the Fred Astaire movie, “He didn’t have to chase very hard after her. She stood still and waited,” but perhaps I’m being uncharitable.

This weekend we’ll be having a celebration of a different kind. My three sons will all be here for the first time since Christmas!

And two of them will be accompanied by their lovely ladies, so we’ll be somewhere between a Full House

Why are there never mothers in these shows?

and a Crowded House.

Remember this band?

Before I realize how much I have still to do and panic sets in,  I’d better get moving. Maybe I’ll put on some old music while I work:

Let’s hope that song choice isn’t prophetic!

Remember, you don’t need to be royalty to have a good time, and you don’t need the camera to record your every move, so you know you exist. Why not go offline for the weekend and try a little introspection? Sometimes the best thing is to find some solitude or be “in the moment” (okay, that phrase makes me roll my terrible eyes, but you get the idea). 

Have a wonderful weekend!

We can laugh about it now

by chuckofish

Friday at last. Phew. Yesterday I was involved in a little fender-bender on the way to work about two blocks from my house. No big deal, but it still threw me for a loop. It is jarring to have to deal with the Polizei so early in the day. I think I actually told the OM that “it’ll buff right out” when I called him.

I do have some good news: I found Season 3 of The Detectorists on Acorn! This is the British show about Andy and Lance, friends who share a passion for metal detecting and the hope that they will make an important historical find.

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It won Best Comedy at the Broadcasting Press Guild Awards 2018 for season three, but writer, director and star of the show Mackenzie Crook says that there won’t be another season. C’est la vie. I’ll enjoy watching season three this weekend.

On Saturday we will walk with team wee babes in the “March for Babies” March of Dimes walk.

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Last year we were rained out, so this will be our first such event. Should be special.

There are also a couple of good estate sales to check out and I will engage in my usual puttering around the house. Sounds like a plan.

And, hey, the sermon in Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s wedding this Saturday will be delivered by The Most Reverend Michael Curry, the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church. This is cool. I have heard the Very Rev. Mr. Curry preach and he is, indeed, a good preacher who is not embarrassed by the name of JESUS. But I won’t be watching, because, really, I could care less about royal weddings, even Anglican ones. Perhaps many millions of people will watch and hear a good Anglican service and hear some good hymns and that is a good thing. No doubt about it.

But this was very interesting.

Have a good weekend!

Hi-diddly-ho

by chuckofish

Today in the Episcopal Church we honor William Hobart Hare (May 17, 1838 – October 23, 1909) who was an American bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church, back when that’s what it was called.

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One of the leading missionaries in America, Hare earned the title “the Apostle of the West” for his dedicated work in the rural Dakotas among pioneers and Native Americans. He was also known as the “Apostle to the Sioux.”

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Bishop William Hobart Hare and traveling equipment(

The house of bishops elected him bishop in 1872 and his territory originally included everything north of the Niobrara River in Nebraska and west of the Missouri River as far as the Rocky Mountains. It was not an easy assignment.

He wrote from Cheyenne Reserve to his sister: “I have been on a trip now for ten days or more, a fairly comfortable one, though a heavy storm of wind and rain blew my tent down over my head last Tuesday night and gave me hours of work and much wretchedness, and my horse balked in the middle of the Cheyenne River on Friday last as I was fording it, broke the single-tree loose and left me in the middle of the rapidly running stream with the water running into my wagon-box. But such ills are the concomitants of travel out here, and I am used to them.” (You can read more about his experiences here.)

The wilderness assigned to the young bishop seemed an almost unmanageable field, but he betook himself to tent life and traveled over the wild country and, having thus made himself familiar with it, he gradually divided it into ten departments and placed a clergyman of ability and fidelity in charge of each of these departments and the missionary work soon fell into shape and was carried on with comparative ease.

The development of South Dakota and its final admission to statehood led to a slight change in the territory assigned to his jurisdiction, and in 1883 his title was changed to missionary bishop of South Dakota, and he chose Sioux Falls as the see city of his missionary diocese. He has labored with all of zeal and earnestness and has infused vitality into all departments of church work in his diocese, while he has been aided and encouraged by the hearty and faithful co-operation of his clergy and his people. It has been his to watch the progress of the church in South Dakota from its inception, ever keeping pace with the onward march of the years as they have fallen into the abyss of time. He has guided the destinies of his church with a hand made strong by power from on high, and with the power which came to steady the hand has also come the divine light to illume the way… He has witnessed the rise of the state, where he has served as bishop for thirty-two years, is loyal to it and its people and has the sincere respect and affectionate regard of all with whom he has come in contact as a church man and as a citizen. (Doane Robinson 1904)

The Calvary Church was the first church built in Sioux Falls.

Screen Shot 2018-05-16 at 11.43.56 AM.pngAs Hare’s congregation grew, he saw the need for a building, “as solid and unmoving as his faith, to stand as the cornerstone for his congregation in the area’s biggest city.” Hobart enlisted the aid of John Jacob Astor III to help raise money for a cathedral. Astor’s contributions were in memory of his late wife, Charlotte Augusta Astor — a patron of Hare’s missions and of All Saint’s School, another Hare creation. Astor’s contributions came to $20,000. The cornerstone was laid Dec. 5, 1888, and Hare’s cathedral was finished a year later. The building itself was constructed of Sioux quartzite.

Bishop Hare, although he died in New Jersey, was buried in Sioux City next to the church under the large cross (below).

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Holy God, you called your servant William Hobart Hare to proclaim the means of grace and the hope of glory to the peoples of the Great Plains: We give you thanks for the devotion of those who received the Good News gladly, and for the faithfulness of the generations who have succeeded them. Strengthen us with your Holy Spirit, that we may walk in their footsteps and lead many to faith in Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Oh and by the way, today is also Bob Saget’s birthday.

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Have a good day. Tomorrow is Friday!

“Gonna build a mountain from a little hill”*

by chuckofish

Today we toast Sammy Davis Jr. who died on this day in 1990.

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Here’s an interesting tidbit for you: John Wayne loaned Sammy Davis Jr. his iconic cavalry hat (the one he had worn in all three of his John Ford-directed calvary films) to wear in Sergeants 3 (1962)–the pretty terrible remake of Gunga Din (1939) which starred the Rat Pack. That was a pretty cool thing for Sammy.

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You can read about the making of the movie here. I can’t really recommend actually watching this movie, as I loathe comedic westerns. If you are in the mood for a Sammy Davis Jr. movie, I would suggest The Cannonball Run (1981) in which Sammy and Dean Martin masquerade as priests in the cross-country car race (along with Burt Reynolds et al) and Dino gets to say, “If we were Methodists we’d have a good shot at gettin’ laid.” Zut alors!

Interesting tidbit #2: Sammy Davis Jr. was the first African-American to be invited to spend the night at the White House. Guess which president invited him? Yes, Richard Nixon.

Fun facts to know and tell.

*Leslie Bricusse/Anthony Newley

Somebody loves us all

by chuckofish

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The Filling Station

 


Oh, but it is dirty!

—this little filling station,

oil-soaked, oil-permeated

to a disturbing, over-all

black translucency.

Be careful with that match!

 


Father wears a dirty,

oil-soaked monkey suit

that cuts him under the arms,

and several quick and saucy

and greasy sons assist him

(it’s a family filling station),

all quite thoroughly dirty.

 

Do they live in the station?

It has a cement porch

behind the pumps, and on it

a set of crushed and grease-

impregnated wickerwork;

on the wicker sofa

a dirty dog, quite comfy.

 

Some comic books provide

the only note of color—

of certain color. They lie

upon a big dim doily

draping a taboret

(part of the set), beside

a big hirsute begonia.

 

Why the extraneous plant?

Why the taboret?

Why, oh why, the doily?

(Embroidered in daisy stitch

with marguerites, I think,

and heavy with gray crochet.)

 

Somebody embroidered the doily.

Somebody waters the plant,

or oils it, maybe. Somebody

arranges the rows of cans

so that they softly say:

esso—so—so—so

to high-strung automobiles.

Somebody loves us all.

–Elizabeth Bishop

I kind of love this a lot. And the painting by Edward Hopper. BTW, Hopper died in his studio in New York City 51 years ago on May 15, 1967. He was buried two days later in the family’s grave at Oak Hill Cemetery in  Nyack, NY, his place of birth.

Simple pleasures

by chuckofish

What a weekend! No mother could ask for more (except for all three of her children to be home!) than a weekend filled with all my favorite things: Doris Day, estate sales, lunch out, mani-pedis, the wee babes, wonderful gift bags of treats from all three daughters, barbecued hamburgers/hotdogs, margaritas, spinning tunes in the Florida room, someone accompanying me to church, and brunch out with mimosas. Sigh.

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BTW, I was not the only one to get presents. I gave little Lottie a shopping cart to push around because she likes a push toy better than anything and because she likes shopping. I mean the girl gets a new pair of shoes every week. (Note the gold gladiator sandals she is working here.) The shopping cart is also perfect for piling vintage toys in.

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The twins are clearly musical geniuses.

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And this quote from daughter #2 on her Instagram page was the cherry on the proverbial sundae:

“When I was learning why the sun rose and the moon set, how the flowers grew and the rain fell, that God and heaven and art and letters existed, that it was intelligent to say one’s prayers, and that well-bred children never told a lie, I learned that a mother can be strong and still sweet, and sweet although she is strong; and that she whom the world and her children both have need of, is of more value to each, for this reason.” — Elizabeth Stuart Phelps

My cup runneth over yet again.