Curio Cabinet / Person, Place, or Thing

Not every researcher completely changes public perception of their field. American anthropologist Margaret Mead, who passed away on this day in 1978, did just that. Throughout her career, Mead wrote about the Western World's attitudes toward sex and family structure. These topics were fairly taboo to speak about at the time, particularly for women. Mead's persistence helped influence the U.S.'s "sexual revolution", or women's rights movement.
 
Born in Pennsylvania, Mead's father was a finance professor and her mother was a sociologist. Mead's academic parents were a great influence on her career. By the time Mead earned her degree from Barnard College in New York City, she had strong opinions about anthropology, and the way it characterized women and cultures outside the Western World. She said it was caught up in "the stupid underbrush of nineteenth century arguments."
 
After earning her Master's degree from Columbia University in 1924, Mead traveled to Samoa, to do fieldwork. This trip laid the groundwork for her views on sex, family structure, and child-rearing in cultures outside the U.S. At the time, anthropology had just begun focusing on culture as a controlling factor in human behavior (rather than debunked claims about race controlling behavior). Mead witnessed firsthand that, despite popular racist claims of the day, Somoan culture was rich and intriguing. Mead came to believe in cultural determinism: the idea that a person's culture and how they are raised determines who they grow to be. Mead's trip to Samoa also offered another turning point in her life. While living there, she found out that her boyfriend, Edward Sapir, whom she was considering leaving her husband for, had married another woman. Mead burned his love letters on a Samoan beach.
 
Mead's work was influenced by her friend and professor, anthropologist Ruth Benedict. Benedict's research focused on child rearing and culture—the subjects Mead eventually studied. By the time Mead earned her PhD in 1929, she had been married twice. She would eventually marry again. She spoke openly about her relationships, even joking "Everyone should marry three times: once to leave home, once to have children, and once for companionship."
 
Mead believed in the power of observation—qualitative research—and largely used it to support her writings. She also promoted certain childrearing practices she had observed in other cultures, such as breastfeeding children only when they cried. Mead went on to publish 23 books, most focused on cultures she had observed around the world.
 
During the 1940s, Mead was a curator at the American Museum of Natural History and taught at The New School and Columbia University. Her popular influence grew throughout the 1950s and 1960s as she spoke out against the U.S.'s unfair treatment of women, Black people, and the disabled. She was known as a fiercely articulate scholar. "If one cannot state a matter clearly enough so that even an intelligent twelve-year-old can understand it, one should remain within the cloistered walls of the university and laboratory until one gets a better grasp of one’s subject matter," she declared.
 
In the 1960s, Mead took a particular interest in sign language and cross-cultural communication. Working with communications theorist Rudolf Modley, she helped establish Glyphs Inc. with the goal of creating a universal language using graphic symbols. During the 1970s, She became Vice President of the New York Academy of Sciences and President of the American Association for the Advancement of Science. When Mead passed away, she had changed the American public's perception of anthropology—from a field which relied on dry data and statistics to a complex social science focused on observation and comprehension of cultural nuances. In 1979, she was posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, America's highest civilian honor. It should be no surprise that one of Mead's most sincere beliefs was in people's ability to bring about cultural change. As she famously expressed: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."
 

Image credit & copyright: Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc.

 
Written by: Maria C.

On this day in 1789, Reverend Elijah Craig distilled the first bourbon whiskey in Kentucky, or so legend has it. Born in Orange County, Virginia sometime between 1738 and 1743, Elijah Craig was the fifth child of Polly Hawkins and Toliver Craig, Sr. Craig converted to the Baptist faith around 1764, and became an ordained minister in 1771. He was imprisoned in 1768, 1770, and 1771, for proselytizing without a license from the Anglican Church (the Church of England)—colonists who did not adhere to the official religion were considered seditious. At the time, Baptists preached to racially mixed congregations and openly supported abolition. In 1781, Craig's brother Lewis, also a pastor, led an exodus known as the Travelling Church to modern-day Kentucky. Craig joined his brothers in 1785, eventually purchased a parcel of land near modern-day Georgetown. On the property he built the first fulling mill, paper mill, ropewalk, and lumber and gristmill in the area. He produced paper, rope, lumber, and whiskey.

Two years later, Craig opened the first classical school in Kentucky. He also served as minister at the Great Grossing Church—a role that conflicted with his entrepreneurial endeavours. Baptists believe The Bible tells them drinking is wrong, and typically abstain from alcohol. Nonetheless, it was the parishioners who provided his corn supply because they were unable to pay him a proper salary. Craig turned the corn to mash for whiskey. According to legend, one day there was a small fire behind the mill where the barrels were stored. Some of the barrels were scorched, but Craig didn't want to throw them out. Instead, he put the corn whiskey inside to see what happened. The result was what we now-call bourbon. Whether or not this origin story of bourbon is true, one thing is certain, Craig's distillery was one of many making whiskey.

Craig died in 1808, leaving behind 4,000 acres of land. He died a slave owner—like many Baptists he went from being an abolitionist to merely encouraging better treatment of slaves while benefiting from their free labor. The Kentucky Gazette eulogized Craig as follows, "He possessed a mind extremely active and, as his whole property was expended in attempts to carry his plans to execution, he consequently died poor. If virtue consists in being useful to our fellow citizens, perhaps there were few more virtuous men than Mr. Craig."

It was not until long after his death that Craig became labeled the father of bourbon. The Bourbon Institute created a public-relations campaign that ran from 1958 to 1968, claiming Craig conveniently invented bourbon the same day George Washington was sworn in as the first President of the United States (April 30, 1789).
Today, Craig's name lives on through the eponymous bourbon brand, Elijah Craig, produced at the Heaven Hill Bernheim distillery in Louisville, Kentucky.

The U.S. Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau now regulates the spirit's production and distribution. To be considered bourbon, and not just whiskey, distillers must follow these protocols. First, it must be made in the United States, from 51% or more corn (the "mash bill"), and distilled at no higher than 160 proof. True bourbon is aged at 125 proof in charred new oak barrels for at least two years. Any bottles of "bourbon" you purchase are free of additives, and between 80 and 100 proof. Water and yeast are the only other ingredients used in the process. The rest is bourbon myth.
 
Image credit & copyright: Portrait of Elijah Craig.

The tricks and treats behind a spooky tradition.

Autumn is in the air, and with it comes pumpkin harvests and the inevitable haunted tradition—no, not the return of pumpkin spice treats! It's the carving of jack-o'-lanterns, a practice that didn't have much to do with pumpkins at the start, but eventually became a beloved symbol of Irish-American immigrant traditions.
 
While plant carvings have existed for some 10,000 years, the jack-o'-lantern dates back to about 19th century Ireland. On the eve of All Saints' Day, (an early form of Halloween), in 1835, the Dublin Penny Journal published the legend of Stingy Jack, or Jack-o'-the-Lantern. Stingy Jack was a deceitful and dastardly drunkard who found himself face to face with the Devil one evening. Realizing he was to be taken off to Hell, Stingy Jack got the Devil to take him to a pub for his last drinks. Jack convinced the Devil to turn into a coin in order to pay the tab; instead of settling up, Jack pocketed the coin and a crucifix with it to prevent Satan from escaping. Jack was able to negotiate an extra 10 years on his life before letting the Devil loose again. Ten years later, Satan came back for Jack, this time still not prepared for the drunkard's traps. Jack asked the Devil to fetch him an apple from a tree, but the Devil soon found himself surrounded by crucifixes on the ground. In exchange for his freedom, Satan promised never to take Jack's soul to Hell.
 
Years later, when Stingy Jack died, he found himself at the gates of Heaven. God stopped him, recounting his wicked life and denying him entry. Jack then fled to Hell, where Satan lived up to his bargain and refused the drunkard entry. Satan did give Jack a lump of coal though, to place in a gourd as a light source. The coal would demarcate his presence as a lost soul, doomed to roam Earth for eternity. Hence his posthumous title Jack-o'-the-Lantern, and the Irish tradition of carving beets and putting coals in them for All Hallow's Eve.

 
Across the pond, another spooky autumn tradition took shape. As the British and Irish traditions of making lanterns with gourds came to the New World, a new crop became the lantern staple: the plentiful pumpkin. First grown near Mexico around 7,000 B.C.E., pumpkins became the vegetable of choice for floating lanterns. Their hollow insides were easier to carve than solid beets, and their large, cranial shapes made for much more realistic and ghoulishly-appearing disembodied heads. The tricks recalled Washington Irving's 1820 story "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow," wherein an encounter with the Headless Horseman leaves a shattered pumpkin next to Ichabod Crane's hat (in later interpretations, the Headless Horseman would have a jack-o'-lantern for a head). Harper's Weekly even ran a front-page illustration of a jack-o'-lantern haunting in 1867, reinforcing the popularity of the spooky tradition across the U.S. By 1892, William Hemphill, the mayor of Atlanta, Georgia, threw a lavish Halloween party where several jack-o'-lanterns were carved. The Jack-o'-lantern, it turned out, was a frightful delight that was in the U.S. to stay.
 
About 1.5 billion pounds of pumpkins are grown in the U.S., with some 800 million ripening in October—a perfect time to visit pumpkin patches and carve triangle eyes and a jagged mouth into a bright orange gourd. Those who are so inclined can leave out a jack-o'-lantern or two, and maybe a piece of candy to honor Stingy Jack, the original trick-or-treater!

 
Image credit & copyright: Riley E. Carlson
 

The First Lady of the World's grand ambitions.

She was the longest-serving First Lady of all time, but that's not why her legacy is so long-lived! Eleanor Roosevelt, born on this day in 1884, forever changed the role that First Ladies were expected to play in American culture. She was controversial in her own time (and widely beloved in modern times) for her outspoken nature, her civil rights activism, her women-only press conferences, and her fearlessness in publicly disagreeing with powerful men—including her own husband.
 

Anna Eleanor Roosevelt had a difficult childhood. Born in the Manhattan area, Eleanor's father Elliot was the brother of President Theodore Roosevelt. Eleanor was actually her middle name—she shared her first name, Anna, with her mother. Eleanor showed intelligence, maturity, and seriousness at a young age, causing her mother to nickname her "granny." In spite of the loss of her mother at a young age and father to a sanitarium, Roosevelt grew to be an outspoken young woman. She outright rejected the idea of women's physical beauty being their most important attribute, writing at age 14, "no matter how plain a woman may be, if truth and loyalty are stamped upon her face, all will be attracted to her."  

After being educated at the Allenswood Academy, a private finishing school in England, Roosevelt began a secret love affair with her father's fifth cousin, Franklin Delano Roosevelt. They were married in 1905, with Theodore Roosevelt walking her down the aisle. Over the following years, the couple had six children. Eleanor became largely responsible for nursing Franklin back to health when he contracted polio in 1921 (though his legs remained paralyzed for life). As her children grew, Eleanor focused on her work outside the home, advocating for oppressed groups, such as Black Americans, women and poor workers. In 1927 she bought Todhunter School for Girls, which offered college preparatory courses for young women. That same year, she established a business, along with three friends, called Val-Kill Industries. It sold furniture and other traditional goods made by local farming families.  

Roosevelt wasn't thrilled about becoming First Lady, in 1933. All the First Ladies she'd known had given up their own ambitions to serve their husbands' careers. Roosevelt refused to give up her business, even though many considered it distasteful for married women to work. She began holding her own press conferences, some of which were only open to female reporters, in an effort to force newspapers to hire more women. Her popular daily newspaper column, "My Day", was also the first of its kind. In 1940, she became the first First Lady to speak at a national party convention.  

During her first year in the White House, Roosevelt made a point to match her husband's Presidential salary via her writing and lecturing (though she gave most of the money to charity). She publicly spoke out against some legislation that her husband supported, such as certain states' New Deal policies, which weren't giving enough relief money to Black Americans. She also supported the Civil Rights Movement, even though her husband kept quiet on race issues, to placate Southern voters.  

Roosevelt remained in the spotlight long after leaving the White House. In 1946, Harry Truman appointed her as a delegate to the United Nations General Assembly. During her time there, she served as the first Chairperson of the Commission on Human Rights and was even instrumental in drafting the Universal Declaration on Human Rights! No wonder she was posthumously awarded the United Nations Human Rights Prize, in 1968.  

Although some opposed Roosevelt's radical redefinition of the First Lady's role, many celebrated her. President Harry S. Truman called her the "First Lady of the World," while the Klu Klux Klan put a bounty on her head and the F.B.I. kept a file on her for suspected communist activities. Today, she's remembered as a beloved feminist icon, proving that speaking your mind can have lasting appeal.  

A national institution's special deliveries.

"Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night" has thus far stopped the United States Postal Service from servicing the American people over its nearly 250 years of existence. Like many great things in U.S. history, the beginnings of the USPS started with the diligent efforts of our Founding Father, Benjamin Franklin, and his unending personal quest to ensure the efficiency and efficacy of the essential national service.
 

The origins of the USPS begin with Franklin's original appointment to the British Crown Post. Franklin was chosen by the British Crown Post in 1737 as a postmaster of Philadelphia in part because of his success running the Pennsylvania Gazette and his popular annual, Poor Richard's Almanack. The polymath genius Franklin quickly moved up the ranks, adding comptroller to his titles and duties, and later co-postmaster general for the Crown in 1953.
 

As a postmaster general for the Crown, Franklin used his business savvy and scientific mind to improve mail services. He introduced new accounting measures, established mail transportation by night (speeding up services), and offered penny letter deliveries to locations outside of Post Offices (people went to post offices to pick up mail back then). Previous postmasters also had the power to ban newspapers from the mail, which included Franklin's own Gazette at one point. Franklin did away with the practice and ensured all newspapers could travel by mail for small fees. In addition to the beneficial services and changes made to the British Crown Post, Franklin quite literally made big strides in mapping distances between Post Office locations. In 1763, he began a survey of post roads from Virginia to New England, which included distance measurements by an odometer he attached to his carriage's axles.
 

By 1760, Franklin's changes to the British Crown Post had made the colonial mail services profitable. But a few short years later in 1774, Franklin was dismissed from the role for his sympathies towards the American insurgents. A year later as the Second Continental Congress convened, Franklin led the Committee of Investigations to establish a postal service for the colonies, and later became the Postmaster General for the United States Post Office, where he earned a $1,000 annual salary. In the short two years Franklin held the position, he furthered his work to ensure the growth of mail services, standardizing weight and shipment cost measurements, and charting routes from Maine down to Florida.

 

There's little doubt that Benjamin Franklin's efficient and expansive view of the post office's role in society influenced its enshrinement in the U.S. Constitution. Article I, Section 8, Clause 7 is known as the "Postal Clause." It gives Congress the power to "establish Post Offices and Post Roads." While the United States Post Office was the first iteration, mail services have fallen under different departments over the centuries, including the United States Post Office Department. The institution was established by the Postal Service Act of 1792, in which the Postmaster General became a Cabinet member of the executive branch. In 1971, President Nixon signed the Postal Reorganization Act, removing the Post Office Department from the Cabinet and creating the United States Postal Service (USPS) as an independent federal agency.
 

The USPS and its predecessors haven't always been loved by everybody. Thomas Jefferson believed post office roads should have been up to the states to manage, and not the federal government. In the 2006 Postal Accountability and Enhancement Act, Congress took a voice vote (in which individual yeses and nos could not be attributed to individual lawmakers) to force the USPS to pre-fund health benefits for future retirees up to 75 years—an unprecedented financial burden placed on a federal institution. To this day, people across the U.S. in cities, suburbs, and rural areas depend on the USPS services for paychecks, medications, and birthday cards, among its many essential services. And we can thank Benjamin Franklin on his foresight to safely and speedily ensure the delivery of every parcel to every citizen!
 

Image credit & copyright: Reuters
 

The muckraker who changed American journalism forever

"A man with every gift except humor and silence"—this is how Time magazine described American writer Upton Sinclair, and it's hard to argue with their assessment. Although Sinclair, born on this day in 1878, won a Pulitzer Prize for his fiction, he's best remembered as a muckraker: a Progressive Era journalist who exposed corruption within powerful industries. Sinclair's muckraking led to significant changes in American life, including a new code of ethics for journalists and even two new laws.  

Born and raised in Maryland, Sinclair's childhood wasn't the easiest. His parents' relationship was fraught—his father was a liquor salesman and alcoholic, while his mother was a strict Episcopalian who was against not only alcohol but even coffee and tea! Although Sinclair and his parents lived in poverty, his mother's family was very wealthy, and Sinclair stayed with them many times. This gave him a unique insight into the standard-of-living gap between the rich and the poor. This insight led Sinclair to embrace socialism, which he believed was the only path to true financial equality. As a teenager, Sinclair began writing in order to pay his tuition. His dime novels and magazine articles earned him enough money to buy his parents a new apartment when he was just 17.
 

After learning several languages and leaving college early, Sinclair married Meta Fuller in 1900, moved to Quebec, Canada, and began to publish novels, (though at the time he mainly considered himself a poet—something he never became famous for.) His first novel, Springtime and Harvest, was quickly followed by four others, all of which received good reviews but were not commercially successful.  

Sinclair created his most famous work in 1906. The Jungle is a novel that deals with themes of poverty, discrimination, and oppression. Its main character is a Lithuanian immigrant struggling to survive in Chicago's meatpacking district. Throughout the novel, Sinclair contrasts the lives of rich company executives with those of poor employees working in unsafe conditions. In doing so, he exposed many unsanitary and dangerous practices in the early meatpacking industry, which he had discovered by working undercover there for over two months. Sinclair wrote The Jungle specifically to sway Americans toward socialist ideals. However, readers were more concerned with the unsanitary food practices he'd exposed. The Jungle even led to the passage of two new laws, the Pure Food and Drug Act and the Meat Inspection Act. Sinclair was disappointed that food safety had overshadowed his book's socialist message, saying "I aimed at the public's heart, and by accident I hit it in the stomach."
 

The world of American Journalism fell under Sinclair's muckraker lens in 1919, with the publication of his nonfiction exposé, The Brass Check. It targeted the dishonest practices of newspapers, the Associated Press wire service, and news magazines. Sinclair took particular aim at William Randolph Hearst, owner of the nation's largest media company. Hearst had popularized the use of yellow journalism, a reporting style meant to increase newspaper sales with sensationalized headlines, dubious reporting, and few to no legitimate sources. Although many newspapers and magazines refused to review the book (for obvious reasons) and several smear campaigns were launched against it, The Brass Check led to the establishment of America's first code of ethics for journalists. No wonder Sincalir called it "the most important and most dangerous book I have ever written."
 

In the 1920s, Sinclair's family moved to California, where he ran unsuccessfully for U.S. Congress twice, as a member of the Socialist Party. In 1934, he ran for Governor of California as a Democrat. However, Sinclair was ultimately taken down by the very sort of propaganda he had always vehemently opposed. Hollywood studio bosses, realizing that Sinclair was not a fan of their industry, opposed his campaign by releasting propaganda films filled with false claims. Sinclair was not given an opportunity to publicly respond, and he lost to incumbent Governor Frank Merriam.
 

Sinclair continued writing for the rest of his life. In 1943, he won the Pulitzer Prize for Dragon's Teeth, a novel examining the rise of Nazism in Germany. He died on November 25, 1968, having published more than ninety books. True to his ideals, he donated the majority of his wealth to socialist causes. Let it never be said that Sinclair wasn't dedicated!  

Famed children's writer, inventor, and government spy.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Matilda, The B.F.G.—these famous children's books are synonymous with beloved British author Roald Dahl. But the legendary writer, born on this day in 1916, had extensive careers as part of the British Royal Air Force, and as a spy with secrets bigger than a gated chocolate factory.  

Dahl was born in Wales to Norwegian-immigrant parents. He learned to speak and write English in school, throughout which he showed no particular affinity for writing. Dahl grew to be a tall kid, standing 6 feet, 6 inches tall, and playing several sports. After graduation, he took a job at the Shell Petroleum Company and was assigned to work in Kenya.  

Dahl's life changed drastically in 1939, with the start of World War II. He joined the Royal Air Force and trained as a fighter pilot. His height made it difficult to fit in a cockpit. Nevertheless, a month after becoming a Pilot Officer, Dahl crashed during an emergency landing. It took him months to recover from his injuries.  

In 1942, he took a job in Washington D.C., at the British Embassy though he found it disappointing and dull. it was in America, though that Dahl would meet several British writers, including C.S. Forester (Horatio Hornblower series) and Ian Fleming (James Bond author), publish his first book, and get his first taste of espionage.  

Ian Fleming introduced Dahl to Canadian spymaster William Stephenson (codename "Intrepid"). Soon, Dahl entered the British Security Coordination, a spy operation within MI6, in which he passed intelligence from Washington to Prime Minister Winston Churchhill. Dahl wrote that his job was to "...try to help Winston to get on with FDR, and tell Winston what was in the old boy's mind." During this same time, in 1943, Dahl published his first children's book, The Gremlins, about tiny creatures who sabotaged planes in the Royal Air Force.  

Dahl's espionage worked in part because of his way with the ladies. He received most of his intel from women whom he charmed with conversation and drinks as they casually revealed post-war plans. He even had an affair with Congresswoman Clare Boothe Luce, perhaps in an attempt to change her lukewarm views on British interests.  

Over the next few years, Dahl made rarified friends, some of whom he spied on. He passed notes to MI6 about his visit to Hyde Park with President Roosevelt. He played tennis with Vice President Henry Wallace and was acquainted with Harry Truman. In 1946, Dahl was invalided out of the Royal Air Force due to his medical issues. He had achieved the rank of Squadron Leader and Flying Ace.  

In 1953, Dahl married American actress Patricia Neal. His young son, Theo, was injured when his carriage was hit by a car, in 1960. Theo suffered from hydrocephalus—swelling caused by a buildup of cerebrospinal fluid in the brain. Dahl worked with hydraulic engineer Stanley Wade and neurosurgeon Kenneth Till to develop the Wade-Dahl-Till, a valve which improved the shunt used to drain the excess cranial fluid. The invention went on to be used on nearly 3,000 children.  

Dahl's most famous books were written first as stories to entertain his children, then as ways to cope with loss, as his daughter, Olivia, died at age seven. He also wrote several lesser-known adult works, which won him three Edgar Awards from The Mystery Writers of America. Before and after his death in 1990, Dahl's literary work—for children and adults—has been adapted into plays, T.V. shows, cartoons, and movies, ensuring that his impact on popular culture will continue to outlive the storied man himself.  

Image credit & copyright: The Roald Dahl Museum and Story Centre

The good trouble of a Civil Rights leader.

The Civil Rights era wouldn't have been the same without the bravery and leadership of Representative John Lewis. While Lewis' most notable effort was during the "Bloody Sunday" march across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama, a closer look at his life leading up to the event sheds light on his incredible determination as a young Civil Rights organizer.

 

John Lewis was born on February 21, 1940 near Troy, Alabama. Growing up, he wanted to become a preacher, having both led his first public sermon and listened to Martin Luther King Jr. on the radio when he was 15. While attending the American Baptist Theological Seminary in Nashville, Tennessee, Lewis began learning about nonviolent protests and organized sit-ins which ended segregation practices at lunch counters in Nashville.
 

In May 1961, John Lewis became one of the first 13 Freedom Riders. They were part of the Congress of Racial Equality's (CORE) "Journey of Reconciliation" program to address racial segregation in interstate public transportation (which was deemed unconstitutional by the Supreme Court decision Morgan vs. Virginia in 1946). As a Freedom Rider, Lewis was beaten for using a whites-only restroom in South Carolina, arrested for breach of peace in Mississippi, and survived a bus firebombing by the Klu Klux Klan in Alabama. Later that year, Attorney General Robert Kennedy, working with the Interstate Commerce Commission, banned segregation in interstate bus travel, marking the success of Lewis and the Freedom Riders' campaign.
 

In 1963, Lewis became the chairman of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and one of the "Big Six" who organized the March on Washington. At the event on August 28th, Lewis delivered a speech supporting the Civil Rights Act., with reservations about how it insufficiently addressed fair employment practices, police brutality, and voting rights for black people. In a charged voice, he urged others to "get in and stay in the streets of every city, every village and hamlet of this nation until true freedom comes."

 

As the SNCC chairman, Lewis further worked to secure voting rights for African-Americans living in the South. His 1964 "Mississippi Freedom Summer" was a massive voter registration drive which recruited college students from across the country. On March 7, 1965, Lewis and fellow activist Hosea Williams led a group in prayer at a Selma, Alabama church prior to their walk (in pairs) to Montgomery. Some 600 protesters joined in, but at the Edmund Pettus Bridge, they were met by 150 law enforcement and posseemen, who announced a two-minute warning for the crowd to disperse. With 30 seconds left, the 150 attacked, wielding clubs, whips, and tear gas against the peaceful protesters. John Lewis suffered a skull fracture, and images of police beating the young, unarmed pastor spread across the country. The state-sanctioned violence against civil rights activists caused President Lyndon Johnson to introduce the Voting Rights Act to Congress on March 15th. It was passed and Johnson signed it into law on August 6th.
 

In the '70s, John Lewis temporarily served as the coordinator for President Carter's AmeriCorps VISTA program to help those in poverty. In 1986, he successfully ran for Georgia's 5th district, where he would later win 16 elections by 70% margins.
 

In a New York Times op-ed written just days before his passing, Lewis reflected on the recent George Floyd protests, how Emmett Till's lynching led him to pursue nonviolent protests, and the importance of voting as "the most powerful nonviolent change agent [we] have in a democratic society." John Lewis' model of getting into good, necessary trouble remains an effective battle plan for ensuring that equality and justice applies to every American citizen.
 

Below: an image of John Lewis walking across the Edmund Pettus Bridge on Bloody Sunday, and his funeral procession across the same bridge. A video of Lewis speaking at the March on Washington.

 

Image credit & copyright: CNN, The Birmingham News, Timothy Ivy / The New York Times
 

Hawaii's beloved final monarch.

Anyone who has listened to the sorrowful song Aloha Oe has experienced the legacy of Hawaiian royalty—even if they didn't realize it. The tune was written by Queen Liliʻuokalani, born September 2, 1838. Not only was she a gifted songwriter and scholar, Liliʻuokalani was the last living Hawaiian monarch. Much of her reign was spent advocating for her people as American colonizers overtook their land.  

Growing up, Liliʻuokalani attended The Royal School alongside pupils whom King Kamehameha III had declared eligible for the throne. When she was 24, Liliʻuokalani married American-born John Owens Dominis, who was so fond of her that he once escorted her home with a broken leg! She was no stranger to political responsibility, having served as Regent several times during her brother's reign. She even quelled a pandemic of smallpox, closing Hawaii's borders even though doing so was politically unpopular. But Liliʻuokalani's reign as queen didn't begin until 1891, upon the death of her brother, King David Kalākaua.  

Liliʻuokalani's foremost goal as Queen was to undo the damage wrought by a document her brother had signed in 1887: the "Bayonet Constitution," so named because Kalākaua had been forced to sign it at gunpoint by a group of wealthy white colonizers. The constitution tied voting rights to property ownership and shifted governmental powers from the monarchy to a colonizer-friendly legislature. Wealthy American and European sugar plantation owners now held powerful sway in Hawaii's governance. Supported by two-thirds of Hawaiian voters, Liliʻuokalani made efforts to abrogate the Bayonet Constitution.  

Retaliation against Liliʻuokalani's defiance was swift. On January 16, 1893, Charles Burnett, the Marshal of the Kingdom, learned that a coup consisting of white business owners, anti-monarchists, and former cabinet members would soon take place. He rallied around 500 soldiers to protect Liliʻuokalani. However, several companies of U.S. Marines and sailors marched on the Kingdom, clearly serving the interests of American business owners. Liliʻuokalani refused to mount a military response, knowing that she was outnumbered and that fighting would lead to the death of Hawaiian citizens.  

Liliʻuokalani was deposed the following day, on January 17, 1893, and replaced with Sanford B. Dole, ancestor of the Doles who would go on to form the Hawaiian Pineapple Company—and perpetuate the myth that pineapples are native to Hawaii. Dole established a provisional government, but Liliʻuokalani relinquished her throne to the United States, rather than Dole, hoping that the U.S. might restore Hawaii's sovereignty. At the same time, Dole sent a delegation to ask the United States to annex Hawaii, and raised a U.S. flag over the palace. On January 19, Liliʻuokalani wrote a letter to U.S. President Benjamin Harrison, pleading her case. However, Harrison's time in office was nearly over. It was the next President, Grover Cleveland, who found that Liliʻuokalani's overthrow was illegal. On November 16, the U.S. told Liliʻuokalani that she could return to her throne…if she agreed to grant amnesty to everyone involved in the coup. But Liliʻuokalani had no tolerance for traitors, saying that the penalty for treason was property confiscation and death. So, on July 4, 1894, Dole was named President of the Republic of Hawaii.  

Following a failed rebellion meant to restore her to power in 1895, Liliʻuokalani was arrested and imprisoned in her palace. Many of her closest political supporters were also jailed, and she was forced to abdicate her throne yet again on January 24, 1898, in exchange for their release. She made a strong case for her decision, writing that there was a "...stream of blood ready to flow unless it was stayed by my pen."  

Hawaii was annexed to the United States in July 1898 (though it wouldn't become a state until 1959). Aloha Oe, one of over one hundred songs that Liliʻuokalani wrote in her lifetime, immediately came to symbolize Native Hawaiians' loss of their country. Long after her death from a stroke on November 11, 1917, Liliʻuokalani endures as a symbol of "Old Hawaii." Statues and monuments in honor of the Queen dot the Hawaiian Islands. Many buildings, roads, and parks still bear her name. The Lili`uokalani Trust benefits orphaned and destitute Hawaiian children to this day, helping around 10,000 children per year. Talk about a positive legacy!  

The triumphs and martyrdom of a Scottish hero.

Anyone familiar with the 1995 hit Braveheart remembers William Wallace (Mel Gibson) crying "Freedom!" for Scotland. Real-life was quite a bit different from the movies: William Wallace, executed on this day in 1305, was indeed a Scottish warrior and remains a national hero—even if he never really painted his face blue.  

Most of what is known about Wallace comes from an epic poem, The Wallace, by late-15th Century author Blind Harry. Wallace was born around 1270, the son of Sir Malcolm Wallace, Lord of Elderslie. At the time, Scotland was an independent nation—but that all changed in 1286, when the Scottish King, Alexander III, fell off his horse and died.  

Scotland had enjoyed stability and peace under Alexander III's rule. But when his only heir also died, chaos ensued. Several Scottish families tried to claim the throne, leading to the brink of civil war. To prevent this, King Edward I of England was invited to arbitrate the selection of a new king. Things quickly soured when Edward I named himself Lord Paramount of Scotland and invaded the country in 1296.  

It was then that William Wallace began his rise to fame. Believing that Scotland should remain its own nation, he killed the English Sheriff of Lanark in 1297. Other prominent Scotsmen joined Wallace's cause, and he raised a small but effective army. In June of that year, Wallace freed the city of Scone without even showing up—English-appointed officials fled after hearing of his approach.  

Edward I dispatched more soldiers to Scotland, and the First War of Scottish Independence began in earnest. Over the next year, Wallace's army laid siege to English officials and their families—not quite the spotless movie heroics, though completely in line with common genocidal war tactics.  

Wallace's most famous victory came on September 11, 1297, at the Battle of Stirling Bridge. As the English Earl of Surrey's forces crossed a narrow bridge over boggy ground, Wallace's forces stormed the bridge's exit, picking the English off a little at a time. At one point, the bridge became so bogged down with British soldiers that it collapsed, drowning many. In another gory twist, Wallace and his soldiers took strips of skin from the body of a fallen British leader, Hugh Cressingham, as souvenirs of victory. The Lanercost Chronicle claims that Wallace had "a broad strip [of Cressingham's skin] ... taken from the head to the heel, to make therewith a baldrick [belt] for his sword."  

After Stirling Bridge, Both Wallace and his co-commander Andrew de Moray assumed the titles of Guardians of the Kingdom of Scotland. However, Moray died a few days later from his wounds, leaving Wallace to be knighted alone. In November 1297, Wallace went so far as to invade northern England, through Northumberland and Cumberland. His raid was largely successful, and his army returned home with many looted valuables.  

The good times didn't last, however. In 1298, Edward I ordered a second, more aggressive invasion of Scotland. This time, the Scots were quickly overpowered. Wallace was forced to give up his title as Guardian of the Kingdom. Though he fought in several more battles, he no longer led an army, and eventually was forced into hiding.  

Wallace was captured after around seven years, and put on trial for treason and atrocities against civilians. He argued that he was not a subject of England, and therefore couldn't be a traitor. His defense didn't work. He was found guilty, hanged, drawn and quartered, and had his dismembered head displayed as a warning to others at the Tower of London in 1305.  

England might have gone too far in their gruesome execution of Wallace. His death caused more rebellion in Scotland, and battles continued to rage. The country eventually won their independence in 1328, when the Treaty of Edinburgh-Northampton was signed. There's no doubt that Wallace was instrumental in England's defeat, which is enough to ensure that many, Mel Gibson fans or otherwise, remember him fondly.  

The road to near ruin and glory.

The road to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway was paved with good intentions… and a maelstrom of deadly shrapnel. The home of the Indy 500 and Boneyard 400 is a central location in Indianapolis, Indiana, where the American automotive industry shows off its feats of engineering wonder. Yet a string of poor business decisions almost led to the closure of the arena after the inaugural races on August 19, 1909.
 

The Indianapolis Motor Speedway was the brainchild of automotive tycoon Carl Fisher. As a professional cyclist and racecar driver, Fisher's enthusiasm for vehicles was endless. His investments in acetylene gas-powered headlights made him rich (previously cars used kerosene or candles as headlights, which blew out at higher speeds), and he opened one of the first car dealerships in the Fisher Auto Company. Inspired by the Brooklands racing circuit in London, England, Fisher wrote to Motor Age magazine describing his ideal raceway: a five-mile track with grandstands and a supply store for spectators' automotive needs. It would be a place to showcase the speed and innovation of the American automotive industry, modeled after the French and English racing events already taking place at the time.
 

In 1908, Fisher purchased a 320-acre farm north of the city and in the following February, he incorporated the Indianapolis Motor Speedway Company. The next month, construction began on the arena, though with far less grandeur than Fisher's initial plans. Instead of a five-mile track, a two-and-a-half-mile one would be built to accommodate the 12,000-seat grandstand. Rather than lay expensive bricks on the road, a combination of gravel and stone pieces were held together with taroid, a mixture of tar and oil—a shortcut that would prove costly to Fisher and others. The entire structure was finished with a green and white trim.
 

As racers began training at the track, the ground beneath them quite literally came apart. Workers tried to smooth over and restore the pavement, but it was no use. By the start of the three-day inaugural races on August 19th, the turns were covered in ruts, and the tarred rocks acted as high-speed shrapnel. The race leader, Louis Chevrolet, had his goggles smashed in by flying rocks, and a rear axle failure resulted in a car turnover and the deaths of racer Wilfred Borque and his mechanic. By the last day, dozens of spectators were injured and three more people were killed in an accident. The American Automobile Association protested further efforts by Fisher and the Indianapolis Speedway to hold events until issues with road safety were addressed. Over the next year, Indianapolis manufacturers supplied 3.2 million pounds of bricks for repaving the race track—earning the Speedway the new nickname of "The Brickyard." With concrete railings at the turns to protect spectators and one last gold brick donated by Governor Thomas Marshall, things were looking up for Fisher's dream raceway again. Drivers returned in 1910 and safely reached peaks of 110 mph in their vehicles.
 

Fisher's success with the Indianapolis Speedway led him to pave the way for interstate automotive traveling. He developed the Lincoln Highway Association to create a hard-surface road from California to New York—a project that would later inspire President Dwight Eisenhower to construct the Interstate Highway System. Unfortunately for Fisher, a one-two-three punch of real estate busts, a 1926 hurricane in his Florida resorts, and the Stock Market Crash of 1929 caused him to lose an estimated $100 million dollar fortune. As for his creation in Indianapolis, the Speedway has gone on to become what Fisher imagined it would be: a high-octane raceway and the largest high-capacity sports venue in the world, with seating for over 250,000 and a max capacity of 400,000 at major events held by NASCAR and the Grand Prix. Fortunately for everyone involved these days, burning up the pavement is just an exciting figure of speech rather than the disasters of the Indianapolis Speedway's early days!

 

The National Mall where it happens.

East of the Potomac River lies the center of our democracy: Washington, D.C., the 100-square-mile home of the White House, Capitol Building, and Washington Monument, among others. The city's original planner, French-American engineer Pierre Charles L'Enfant, designed the space to marry the best of traditional European city planning with democratic ideals—though his best-laid plans sadly remained lost for over 100 years.
 

Before the passing of the Residence Act on July 16, 1790, the Washington, D.C., area was marshland between Maryland and Virginia once inhabited by Algonquian Piscataway tribes (whom European colonizers pushed out 100 years prior). The Residency Act gave President Washington the power to appoint French emigrant Pierre Charles L'Enfant as a city planner for the new Federal City (later named "City of Washington," then Washington, D.C.). L'Enfant, born on August 2, 1754, was a French emigrant, architect, and Revolutionary War engineer who served under Washington and Major General Lafayette. On March 9, 1791, L'Enfant traveled to Georgetown from New York City to begin his work designing the new federal seat of power.
 

On June 22, 1791, L'Enfant presented Washington with his "Plan of the city intended for the permanent seat of the government of the United States." The hypothetical mapped city was laid out in neat grids, with street names arranged vertically by letters and horizontally by numbers. A "Grand Avenue" lined with gardens and canals was going to be a meeting place for intellectual leisure, and two main buildings would be central to the landscape: the President's House located at the end of Pennsylvania Avenue, and the Congress House, sat on Jenkins Hill (later known as Capitol Hill). L'Enfant called Jenkins a "pedestal awaiting a monument," and purposefully housed Congress, rather than the presidency, on the spot in a move to symbolically centralize the democratic principles at the heart of the nation.
 

L'Enfant's visionary plan for an egalitarian city was met with formidable objections from the Commissioners, whom Washington appointed as surveyors of the Federal City. One in particular was Andrew Ellicott. Ellicott claimed L'Enfant was difficult to work with because L'Enfant had ignored Ellicott's requests to see the engineer's original plans and engravings. Ellicott eventually made his own city map engravings for lot sales, having taken L'Enfant's ideas and modified them without permission or payment. At the behest of Thomas Jefferson, L'Enfant resigned his post, and plans for L'Enfant's Grand Avenue would not see the light of day for over a century.
 

In the 1800s, Washington, D.C., remained a mostly rural landscape with the White House and Capitol Building being the main components completed from L'Enfant's grand designs. In 1901, Senator James McMillan of Michigan, then Chairman of the Senate Park Commission, championed the project of turning the National Mall into a space inspired by L'Enfant's Grand Avenue: a neo-classical space that would incorporate museums, marble terraces, and a Washington Monument at the end of reflective pools. Over the next 30 years, the McMillan Plan transformed the farming landscape of Washington, D.C., into a modern tribute to American history and governing, with all future city planning revolving around the preservation and improvement of the National Mall and its surrounding areas.
 

Nowadays, Washington, D.C., and the National Mall see over 24 million tourists every year. From the Smithsonian Museums to the Lincoln and Jefferson monuments, every structure is a testament to Pierre Charles L'Enfant's belief in what America accomplished by defeating England's crown and pursuing a "more perfect union."
 

Below: a portrait of Pierre Charles L'Enfant.
 

Image credit & copyright: McMillan Watercolor
 

The story of America's top intelligence and security service.

Terrorism, organized crime, corruption. These are just a few of the large-scale crimes that the F.B.I. (Federal Bureau of Investigation) helps thwart these days. However, the agency, formed on this day in 1908, had an unceremonious start and has hardly been free from scandal throughout its 112-year history.
 

By the early 1900s, times were a-changing in the United States. The country was industrializing faster than almost any other nation, and people were flocking to cities for a chance at prosperity. However, all those people bunched in close quarters led to heightened crime rates, and then gangsterism flourished under Prohibition. Local and state police departments were overwhelmed.  

At the time, state and local laws were more important to citizens' everyday lives than federal laws. In fact, there weren't many criminal federal laws on the books at all. Agencies like the Secret Service didn't have many permanent agents, but were instead staffed by freelance private investigators.  

All that changed when Teddy Roosevelt became President in 1901. Roosevelt was fed up with violent crime (rightfully so, since he had become president due to the assassination of President William McKinley), and vowed to update the federal government's role in criminal investigations.  

In 1906, Roosevelt appointed the like-minded Charles Bonaparte as his second Attorney General. Frustrated by the lack of permanent agents to help in federal investigations, Bonaparte began renting agents from the Secret Service. However, this practice was banned by Congress, to prevent what they saw as a grab for power by the Roosevelt administration. So, Bonaparte formed his own agency.  

This new, unnamed agency was part of the Office of the Chief Examiner, in the Department of Justice. It began with just 10 employees, all of whom were former Secret Service agents. They reported to duty on July 26, 1908. The following year, the agency was officially named the Bureau of Investigation, and expanded to include over 30 employees.  

In the following decades, the F.B.I. would conduct many successful investigations. The agency became a household name in 1934, when agents tracked down and killed gangster John Dillinger. During World War II, the F.B.I. rooted out over 800 Axis spies. The agency also led the investigation into the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in 1963, which ended in the arrest of Lee Harvey Oswald. In 2011, F.B.I. intel led to the military operation which killed Osama bin Laden.  

However, with the agency's triumphs there have been controversies. In 1938, the agency bungled an investigation of a Nazi spy ring by failing to imprison its leader and accidentally tipping off the others. In 1973, F.B.I. Director L. Patrick Gray was made Acting Director of the F.B.I by President Richard Nixon and was nominated to become the agency's permanent director...but withdrew after he was found to have destroyed Watergate files. From the 1950s to the 1970s, the F.B.I. was criticized for keeping files on (and sometimes even actively tracking the whereabouts) of people it considered "subversive", such as civil rights leaders and non-violent political groups. During the famous "Red Scare" of the late 1940s and early 1950s, the F.B.I. spied on many Americans suspected of being communists (whether there was evidence or not).  

Today, the F.B.I. employs around 35,000 people, from special agents who can be deployed to the streets, to language specialists who help gather foreign intel. The agency has publicly stated that it's shifting its focus toward cybercrime, to keep up with changing technology. If the F.B.I. has its way, hiding behind a computer will no longer be an option for today's tech-savvy criminals!  

Modern Italy's first Renaissance man.

In literature, there are two main sonnet forms: the Shakespearian and the Petrarchan. The latter isn't nicknamed for its inventor, but rather Francesco Petrarcha ("Petrarch" in English), the Italian writer who made the form indispensable to Renaissance poets. Though he is primarily known for his poetics, Petrarch was and remains arguably one of the foremost modern thinkers and played a crucial role in the development of the Renaissance.
 

Petrarch was born on July 20, 1304, in Arezzo, part of the Italian city-state of Tuscany. At his father's behest, he studied law at Montpellier and Bologna, though his true love was classical literature and writing. When his father died in 1326, Petrarch left law school stating, "I couldn't face making a merchandise of my mind." He later served the Catholic church in several capacities that allowed him to travel extensively in diplomatic missions across Europe.

 

A year later, on April 6, 1327, Petrarch met a person who would change his life forever, Laura de Noves, at a church in Avignon. Their meeting did not lead to any kind of relationship, and Laura, like many of his beloveds, died tragically. That did not stop Petrarch from composing 366 poems over 40 years in honor of her beauty and his emotionally turbulent devotion to her. The resulting Il Canzoniere became a hugely influential work. It inextricably linked the theme of love with the 14-line sonnet poem, which would greatly influence English poets in the 16th century. Secondly, the work was written in vernacular Italian rather than Latin, adding to Italian's literary prestige.

 

As Petrarch's scholarship grew, so too did his social reputation. His poetry and writings in Latin and Italian were highly regarded and earned him a life-long friendship with The Decameron writer, Giovanni Boccacio. The painter Simone Martini was commissioned to paint representations for Petrarch's translations of Virgil. On April 8, 1341, Petrarch traveled to Rome on Easter Sunday to receive the honor of being crowned the poet laureate (having declined a similarly timed request from Paris, France), a tradition which had not been performed since the Roman Empire fell. At the event, he delivered his famous "Coronation Oration" in praise of classical values and poetry: "There was a time, there was an age, that was happier for poets, an age when they were held in the highest honor…. especially when Caesar Augustus held imperial sway, under whom there flourished excellent poets: Virgil, Varius, Ovid, Horace, and many others." Through his lifelong work and extensive travels, Petrarch became a major influence in the Renaissance revival of ancient Latin and Greek thought.
 

Then, in 1345, Petrarch discovered priceless letters penned by ancient Roman statesman, philosopher, and lawyer, Cicero. The rediscovery is credited with triggering the Renaissance humanism movement, and the encompassing Renaissance as a whole. Renaissance humanism sought to escape medieval scholasticism with a learned and virtuous citizenry.
 

By the time of his death in 1374, Petrarch had amassed a vast library that was gifted to the city of Padua, Italy. Many of Petrarch's works were disseminated to far off places where they were well-received. In England, Petrarch's contemporary Geoffrey Chaucer translated and incorporated several of the Petrarch's works into his own writings. Some 200 years later, translations of Petrarch's sonnets by Thomas Wyatt inspired William Shakespeare to take up the poetic form in works like Romeo and Juliet and his Collected Sonnets. Now, nearly 700 years after his birth, Petrarch's scholarship, reverence for classical literature, and unrequited love for Laura remain key legacies in Europe's transition from medieval scarcity to a flourishing Renaissance.