clair057

I visited my father a couple of weekends ago and walked over some of his property. Today, most of it is heavily wooded, but in the early days when my great grandfather and grandfather farmed for a living most of the land was covered in cultivated fields of some sort. My father left the land in the 50s to join the Army and later settled in Atlanta to raise my sister and me. He said he was done with farming, but…….. The land lured him back, and I’ve never known him to not have a tractor of some sort even when we lived in the suburbs. Eventually, he began to return to the farm on the weekends and helped his father with a huge garden. My father is a huge proponent of child labor, so my sister and I were schooled in the ways of plowing a field, scattering seeds, and my favorite farming activity…..picking up rocks. My grandmother and mother taught my sister and me the other side of farming – food preservation. You know…….canning and freezing. During the work week Daddy would visit the local ...

I can remember how the painted wooden planks of our front porch felt on my bare feet during the hot and lazy days of July. I can remember the smell of the dirt in Pa Land’s garden after it had been churned up during a night of pelting rain. I can remember the delight of looking out my bedroom window and discovering a blanket of snow had fallen making even the ugliest parts of my yard beautiful. I can remember heading off to school on cool crisp mornings that gradually morphed into bitterly cold trips as October and November became December and January begging for coats, ear muffs and mittens. I can remember the beginning of Atlanta’s Great Ice Storm of 1973 – the clink, clink, clink of sleet as it began to coat every surface signaling we would be homebound for the next fifteen days or so. Weather has an important role to play in our historical memory. It changes our picnic plans. Derails a lunch we might have planned with an old friend or hits us in the pocketbook. It does not matt...

I’ve been in a fog since Christmas. I know the New Year has come and gone. I know that I should have hit the ground running with resolutions, new schedules, and new habits, but the only thing I seem to have formed a habit with is meandering to and from one project to another. Last week, while I was still trying to recover from being confined to quarters for an entire week while my beloved Atlanta dug out from the snow and ice I felt a little reprieve from the things I knew I must see to – the items I need to get to Goodwill, tax documents, receipts to enter, writing projects to work on and complete – but last week was different. Things were back to normal, and I was still wandering about bumping into thing after thing all needing more than a modicum of attention. Then it hit me. January is always a foggy time for me. The let-down after the holidays, the starkness of the house after decorations have been put away, the damned cold cutting through me like a knife…..all of that and mo...

The Spanish American War tends to be the event where the term yellow journalism arises, and in my opinion it is an appropriate spot to discuss the role of media regarding war and foreign policy . There is no smoking gun, but it can be argued the headline wars between Joseph Pulitzer’s New York World and William Randolph Hearst’s New York Journal helped to fan the flames of war. Both papers sensationalized news events such as the sinking of the American battleship Maine in Havana harbor in 1898. Even today after numerous investigations we still aren’t sure if the Maine exploded due to an accident on board or due to actions by the Spanish. Both Pulitzer and Hearst told their readers the Spanish were responsible  even through there was no proof. They hyped the story to feed a public hungry for revenge though some argue folks outside of New York did not see the sensationalistic reports, therefore the papers really didn’t really cause the war. I agree somewhat……there were other thi...

The White House theme this year for Christmas decorations is “Simple Gifts”…. emphasizing what Mrs. Obama says are the simple things at Christmas time, such as music, children, friends, and family, and gifts made from nature. However, the Obama’s dog, Bo, has his stamp all over Christmas at the White House this year. A larger-than-life version of the Obama family pet, made of 40,000 twisted black and white pipe cleaners, is one of the first things tourists and other guests will see when they stroll through the White House all decked out for the holidays. Bo also features prominently in a 350-pound, white chocolate-covered gingerbread White House. A tiny version of the family dog made from almond paste sits on the edible grounds near of replica of Mrs. Obama’s fruit and vegetable garden. Bo’s signature….of sorts….is even found on the official White House Christmas card seen below: Notice everyone in the Obama family signed the card including Bo. His little paw print is seen along with e...

I love the premise behind the National Treasure movies where members of the Gates family feel compelled to solve a series of historical clues in order to find a treasure that will ultimately save the family reputation. Unfortunately, there are always a few bad men along the way and some of the clues and found artifacts end up painting the Gates family in a bad light. It must be difficult to have your family ridiculed and doubted because historians don’t believe your ancestor’s role in the American story. Luckily for the fictional Benjamin Gates he finds all the pieces of the historical puzzle and in the end he finds the treasure, saves a few lives, and even gets the girl. Not so for the real-life family of John Honeyman, a spy for Washington and little known hero of the Battle of Trenton during Christmas, 1776. I’m not surprised if you have never heard of John Honeyman because most contemporary historians have relegated his story to the back burner and allowed the pot to simmer a bit ...

The Pilgrims set foot on Plymouth Rock in November, 1620. Can you imagine moving to a “New World”? Can you imagine moving anywhere for that matter right before the rush of the Christmas season? I can’t. Maybe it’s just a woman thing, but I know what would have been on my mind had I been on the Mayflower . I would be thinking.......Here it is nearly the first of December, I have no home, and Christmas is just around the corner. I have shopping to do, the decorations need to be up (hope I remembered where I packed them), and then I have all the cooking to do. How am I going to fit 30 various parties, dinners, and gatherings into four weeks? When are the greeting cards going to get addressed? And.....how does one ship gifts back home from the “New World”? By December, 1620 many of the Pilgrims were sick with scurvy and many more were suffering from wild coughing fits   They hardly felt like celebrating, but the fact of the matter is any Pilgrims well enough spent their ...