“I touch the future. I teach.” Christa McAuliffe
Christa McAuliffe, a social studies high
school teacher in New Hampshire, was selected to participate in the NASA
Teacher in Space program. She was one of
seven crewmembers to die aboard the 1987 space shuttle Challenger.
I relish the several times a semester
when I’m back in the classroom teaching; I have ample time to strategize about
engaging the students. Because they have
little contact with books, I try to take several in with me and read from
them. When Professor David Grimsted
first started out at Bucknell, he came to my initial Historiography class with
about a dozen tomes by the likes of Thucidydes and Tacitus, eager to expose us
to the pioneers in his field. Five years
later Grimsted had moved on to Maryland, where I was a grad student and became
a leading expert on antebellum riots.
In Nicole’s class, with four books in
hand, I talked about the wartime movies “Casablanca”, “Bataan,” and “The Story
of G.I. Joe,” the later based on the experiences of Ernie Pyle, whose column appeared
in over 300 newspapers. Pyle was
embedded with troops in North Africa, Italy, England, France (he witnessed the
liberation of Paris), and the Pacific. He
died at age 45 from machine gun fire on a small island near Okinawa. Pyle had an authentic style that did not
glorify the bloody business of war. As
historian Richard Lingeman wrote in “Don’t You Know There’s a War On: The
Homefront, 1941-1945”:
“Ernie
Pyle’s war was an antiheroic one perfectly in tune with the men who were
fighting in it – men like those two archetypical GIs Willie and Joe, whom the
cartoonist Bill Maulden had caught so well with his pen. Pyle concentrated on details – the debris of
shoes, cigarettes, writing paper left behind by the dead at Normandy, for
example. He conveyed a quick sympathy for
the GIs and wrote about what the ordinary soldier saw, thought, felt.”
I also showed cartoons from Bill Maulden’s 1944 bestseller
“Up Front.” A sergeant with the 45th
Division and Stars and Stripes contributor,
he, like Pyle, depicted with humor and pathos soldiers’ mundane everyday
routine, interrupted by sudden moments of terror. GIs identified with the unkempt and unshaven
Willie and Joe, but General George Patton unsuccessfully tried to censor
Maulden’s drawings for supposedly subverting discipline.
A student of Syrian ancestry gave a report about
Archbishop Damaskinos Papandreou and the fate of Greek Jews during the
war. While approximately 87 percent were
Holocaust victims, the Archbishop protested their deportation to concentration
camps and published a letter expressing his deep concern. When a high Nazi official threatened to have
him executing by firing squad, he responded sarcastically, “According to the traditions of the Greek Orthodox Church, our prelates
are hanged, not shot. Please respect our
traditions.” Papandreou also told churches to issue Christian baptism
certificates to Jews, saving the lives of thousands. I plan to tell the student that the expert on
Bulgaria and the Jews, Fred Chary, is an emeritus professor and would be
available to her if she wanted to do an independent study on the topic.
I saved my intended remarks about Kenneth S. Davis’ “FDR:
The War President” for another day. The book
concludes with a description of a White House dinner on December 31, 1942. With FDR were Eleanor and intimates Sam and
Dorothy Rosenman, Bob and Madeline Sherwood, Henry and Elinor Morgenthau, Harry
and Louise Hopkins, and Prince Olav and Princess Martha of Norway. The President Had been carrying on a serious
flirtation with Princess Martha, causing his former lover Missy LeHand to
suffer a nervous breakdown from which she never recovered. After the meal came a private screening of
the soon-to-be-released film “Casablanca, starring Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid
Bergman. Davis wrote of “Casablanca”:
“A bittersweet
story of love amid war, of individual lives overwhelmed by history and enabled
to become good or evil only through their willed responses to it, the film was
soaked through and through with the selfless idealism and spirit of personal
sacrifice to a transcendent cause. Even
people who deemed themselves hardheaded realists and objected to the
sentimental as a perversion of honest emotion were often deeply moved by this
picture story. Perhaps Franklin
Roosevelt was moved by it to add to his customary midnight toast, ‘To the United
States of America’ the words ‘And to United Nations’ victory.’”
By 1944 Roosevelt’s friends were mostly elsewhere or dead.
Eleanor was either touring the country,
overseas outposts or with her lesbian friends.
Ever since discovering he was unfaithful to her 25 years before, she had
refused to sleep with him. Daughter Anna
arranged for him to re-connect with his recently widowed former mistress, Lucy
Mercer Rutherfurd. He took delight in
arranging trysts, made relatively easy by wartime censorship. She was with him in Warm Springs when he died.
Historian Arthur E. Schlesinger, Jr., wrote that if Rutherfurd “in any way helped Franklin Roosevelt
sustain the frightful burdens of leadership in the second world war, the nation
has good reason to be grateful to her.”
I can understand why Alan Barr and Jean Poulard, both in
their mid-70s, still teach. Barely five
feet tall, Barr jokes that he still needs a soapbox. I could never have been an administrator,
sitting through seemingly endless meetings.
After a good teaching day, I’d often say to myself, “I earned my pay today.” It
never got boring.
Ray Smock wrote a blog about the $60 million Capitol dome
restoration project entitled, “Restoring the Capitol Dome? How about Restoring Representative
Democracy?” Arguing for the need for historical context and analysis by Capitol
Hill reporters and more civility by lawmakers, he wrote:
“There are no
sandblasters, welders, painters, engineers, and architects who can fix a
dysfunctional Congress trapped in hyper-partisanship and blinding
ideology. What has happened to Congress when threats of impeachment and
government shutdown follow every major disagreement with the President?
This is not governance; it is warfare, with the U.S. Constitution and the
American people, not partisan officeholders, as the ultimate victims.”
Smock referred to Poet Laureate Howard
Nemerov. In 1989 Ray was House Historian
and asked Nemerov to write a poem commemorating the Congressional
bicentennial. It started out, “Here
at the fulcrum of us all.” A WW II pilot,
Nemerov in 1977 wrote “The War in the Air.”
Here are its first and last verses:
“For a saving grace, we didn't see our dead,
Who rarely bothered coming home to die
But simply stayed away out there
In the clean war, the war in the air.
. . . .
That was the good war, the war we won
As if there was no death, for goodness's sake.
With the help of the losers we left out there
In the air, in the empty air.”
In an email Ray wrote:
“Meeting and getting to know Howard Nemerov was a highlight of my Hill
experience. His is a great story and I love all his poems and I have all his
books of poems in my library. The one you picked out is a gem coming from a
young pilot who flew so many missions, first for the Royal Air Force, which had
an American unit training in Canada before we got into the war, and then for
the Army Air Force, as they called it then. His description of death in the air
reminds me of Thomas Pynchon comment about war being so ‘absentee.’
Look back to that 1989 Congressional ceremony 26 years ago and the
leaders who were WW2 Veterans. Jim Wright, decorated bombardier flying in B-24s
in the Pacific; Bob Michael, decorated infantryman wounded at Normandy; Bob
Dole, so badly wounded in fighting in Italy that they shot him full of morphine
and left him in his own blood; Robert Byrd, no military service but a welder in
Baltimore and shipyards in Florida building Liberty Ships;
It was a different generation, a
different time, and a different sense of public service. In 1989 the next
generation was making its move, with an Army brat who never served in uniform,
Newt Gingrich, hounding Jim Wright out of office, and then giving Tip O’Neill
fits. Today Congress is populated with more non-veterans of any war, than at
any time in our history. I am not making a case for warriors as the best
leaders. But I am saying that a commitment to serve the country in some
capacity is a good start on Congressional service. You need some qualification
more than plain hatred of government itself.”
David Mergl donated to the Archives a
copy of the 2001 Times picture book “Northwest Indiana Oregionality:
Sand, Steel, and Soul.” In the introduction Julia Versau wrote that a visitor
to the “boomerang-shaped strip of land hugging Lake Michigan” between
Chicago and Michigan City would see both “a scion of steel, its factory
stacks blowing smoke rings into the sky” and “a Shangri-La of sand, each
dune testimony to the region’s natural inheritance.” The visitor, Versau continued, would, in
all likelihood, “marvel at the juxtaposition: millions of grains of sand
moments from the massive mills, the natural serenity of the place skin to skin
with the gritty, manmade commotion of factories and machine shops.”
Catching my eye in “Oregionality” were
photos of an Outlaws Motorcycle Club member and pugilist Angel Manfredy with
daughter Celeste at Gary’s Police Athletic Club. Manfredy fought four title bouts, called
himself “El Diablo” (the devil), and entered the ring wearing a latex Satan
mask. After a cocaine-induced suicide
attempt, Manfredy converted to Apostolic Pentacostalism. His boxing skills subsequently deteriorated.
Thad Zale’s book about his Uncle Tony,
done in collaboration with Clay Moyle, will be out by Christmas. He describes it as “about a young Polish steelworker who overcame his shyness to
become a world boxing champion goes behind the scenes for a closer look at
how difficult his life was outside the square circle. ‘Keep the kids off the
street and in the ring’ was Tony's message.” Some photos are from the Calumet Regional Archives. Zale, born Anthony Florian Zaleski and
nicknamed “Gary’s Man of Steel,” became world middleweight champ in 1940 but
couldn’t cash in on his title for four years after Pearl Harbor due to a
government ban on prizefights. He went
into the navy but refused to participate in exhibitions, claiming he only knew
one way to fight – with everything he had.
Best known for a trio of bouts with Rocky Graziano, he originally was play
himself in the movie “Somebody Up There Likes Me, ” (1956) but knocked out Paul
Newman, playing Graziano, while sparring with him beforehand. James Dean was
slated to play Graziano but died before filming.
Jerry Davich photographed St. Nicholas
Russian Orthodox Church for his forthcoming book “Lost Gary.” Built in 1935 near Fifteenth and Johnson,
the original congregation was Carpatho-Rusyn.
Candace Alicastro recalled that her Macedonian grandmother crossed
herself each time she passed the church.
I woke up in the middle of the night and
turned on the SCORE. Les Grobstein
announced that Chicago State had won its first game of the season against
Indiana Northwest (IUN), doubling up, 102-51, on their opponent, which he
termed “a real cupcake.”
Record low temperatures forced me to wear
my winter coat prematurely; at least we have not been socked by lake effect snow
like in South Bend, Grand Rapids, and the Buffalo area. Alissa and Miranda had the day off when Grand
Valley State closed down.
I bowled exactly my average and the
Engineers took one game from All Mixed Up.
Chris Lugo’s son-in-law Charlie Jones said he attended the Portage girls
basketball game at East Chicago the night before and enjoyed hearing Dave
announce the game. Charlie’s son is
about ten, bowls Saturdays (like James) at Camelot, and better than I am. In a
disastrous third game, featuring a plethora of splits and ten pins. Dick Maloney
and I each had 80 in the seventh frame.
I disgustedly told Robbie, “We’re in a dogfight.” We both marked the rest of the way and ended
tied with 139s.
Juan Estrada, taking an online course on
oral history from San Jose State, visited the Archives, checked out our
collections, and interviewed me about how I got into oral history. I described some of my research interests –
immigrants, work experiences, Blacks and Latinos, the history of IUN,
environmental causes – and ended by telling him about the importance of Anne
Balay’s “Steel Closets.”
Anne sent this post: “My not getting tenure was about a
campus culture, yes, but it was triggered specifically by me teaching a book by
Jacqueline Woodson to a Children's Lit class.
That some Jacqueline Woodson just won the National Book Award.”
I bought the $5.75 turkey meal Thursday
at the Redhawk cafeteria and, because I turned done the macaroni and cornbread,
received a mountain of mashed potatoes and gravy. Angie and the kids were over
for a steak dinner, but I was too full to do more than pick at a few cucumber
slices and consume a piece of French bread.
Obama went on TV to describe his executive actions regarding
undocumented immigrants, infuriating Republicans even though Reagan and Bush
took similar measures. My attention
turned to IU’s victory over No. 22 ranked SMU, coached by grizzled Larry Brown. Hoosier freshman James Blackmon, Jr., a star
(like his father before him) at Marion H.S., had 26 points.
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