January-March, 2008
PERSON OF HONOR Recently, the National Park Service was embarrassed by what journalists call a slow news day in Philadelphia.
That is, there were no explosions, fires, mass murders, or adulterous politicians on tap that day. Nor had Britney Spears, Paris Hilton or Senator Craig elected to visit Philly. Indeed, The City of Brotherly Love was beginning to resemble that famous quote of W.C. Fields: "I went to Philadelphia once, but it was closed." The reporters needed some copy. Independence National Historic Site, managed by the NPS, usually has something happening as Philadelphia was one of the first capitols of the new United States and in addition to Independence Hall, was the site of the first president's home. So, the inquiring reporters inquired. The NPS press person enthusiastically expounded on an archeological dig at the site of President Washington's house "that was yielding exciting new data on the architecture of the First President's home" (One can imagine the yawning reporter pining for a decent police shootout!). In passing, the park spokesperson allowed as how the archeologists were also learning a great deal about the day to day lives of the slaves that President kept in quarters under the house. "GEORGE WASHINGTON HAD SLAVES IN THE CELLAR IN PHILADELPHIA?!" gasped the reporters. It wasn't Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky, but it would have to do. The reporters were off and running. (Like I say, it was a slow news day) The NPS, one of the more nervous, eager to please agencies in the Federal Government, was a tad slow in getting the proper spin. There was a rumor that the Park Service had attempted a cover up, both figuratively and literally, of the story of Washington's slaves in the cellar. True, the NPS had not immediately arranged a shovel by shovel telecast of the archeological dig, and, as standard operating procedure in archeological digs, had planned to "backfill", that is, cover up the site once the artifacts were removed. This was regarded by some as an attempt at hushing up the story. Now neighbors, every reporter yearns to be an "Investigative Journalist": A fearless Seeker after Truth, who will rip the mask of hypocrisy from the smug members of the Power Elite, Cowardly Bureaucrats, and the Vested Interests who seek to withhold Vital, Incriminating Information from the Uninformed Public. Naturally, this path to the Pulitzer Prize required a villain or two; in this case, it was the hapless National Park Service and George Washington. There actually had been no "cover up", at least in the Bush approach to the truth, but publicity seekers were soon on the scene. Philadelphia has a sizable Black population, not all of whom regard their White brothers as guileless Seekers After Truth and Justice. A Black history group rather ominously named "Avenging the Ancestors" promised to look into the matter of Washington's slaves and hold NPS feet to the fire. Things could get ugly. Now most Americans realize that George Washington had enslaved people working on his Mount Vernon plantation in Virginia. That was perfectly legal and simply the custom of the time; True, a bit hypocritical for a Champion of Liberty, as British sore losers often snidely pointed out, but still legal. Although neither historians nor the NPS tried to cover it up, most Americans were unaware that President Washington had brought slaves to serve in the Presidential mansion in Philadelphia during the time Philadelphia was the Nation's capitol. Again, this was legal. Although Pennsylvania was a free state, a "transient slave holder" could bring his personal slaves into the state. However, if they remained more than six months in Pennsylvania, they became free. Now George Washington was not sure if this law applied to the President of the United States. Unlike a future President also named George who is cock sure that no laws apply to him, Washington felt there just might be limits to executive privilege. Therefore, to be on the safe side, Washington got around this potentially expensive problem by rotating his personal slaves back to Mount Vernon every six months and replacing them with a fresh crew.
Actually, Washington was not a racist. Unlike his associate, Thomas Jefferson, who indeed had a rather nasty racist streak, Washington's writings reveal no animosity or contempt for the Black race. Washington was simply an equal opportunity slave master. It really did not matter to him whether you were English, German or Black; George Washington simply did not like to pay wages and would gladly enslave you. (Something modern American CEO's would understand perfectly as they move American jobs to countries that have lethal views on labor unions and environmental regs.) One of Washington's "indentured servants" (that is, White slave) was an English tailor by the name of Andrew Judge who had been indentured to Washington for four years in return for ship passage from London and the promise of food and shelter. Southern plantations made an effort at self sufficiency and a tailor would be very useful at Mount Vernon. While Mr. Judge's tailoring duties kept him busy, there was apparently enough slack time available for him to impregnate one of the enslaved Black girls. We say "apparently" as Mr. Judge hotly denied parentage. Washington disagreed and named the resulting little girl Oney Judge. Mr. Judge completed his indenture shortly after Oney's birth and disappears from our story. Oney, fair and freckled, grew up as a privileged house slave at Mount Vernon, playmate to Washington's step children. She had, it seems, inherited her father's small hand skills and was as Washington himself proclaimed "A veritable mistress of the needle." A very important skill in 18th century America. She became a teenager and shared in the girlish secrets, laughter, and delights of Washington's step daughter, Nellie, one of the wealthiest young women in North America. The two young women seemed inseparable. Martha Washington noted this and was pleased. Martha had plans. Legally, Oney was Martha Washington's slave as Oney's mother had been one of Martha Washington's dower slaves. Martha could do as she wished with Oney, even grant her freedom. However, a glittering new world was to open up for Oney. It was time to do the six month slave rotation in Philadelphia as George Washington was now President. She and 8 other slaves accompanied the Washingtons to the executive mansion at what is now 6th and Market Street in Philadelphia. The contrast could not have been more spectacular. Instead of the isolated, self contained agricultural world of Mount Vernon, Oney suddenly found herself in a bustling urban world of brick buildings stretching as far as the eye could see and containing more strangers than Oney had ever seen in her life. The streets were full of new things--and new ideas. One idea that impressed Oney was the idea of freedom. Oney did not pick up the freedom idea from the Washingtons, but rather from the free Blacks that roamed the streets of Philadelphia, making their living as laborers and artisans. If you wanted anything moved, loaded, unloaded or built, it was almost impossible to avoid coming into contact with the free Blacks of Philadelphia. Not that Oney sought to avoid them. There were murmured conversations as Black artisans visited the Executive Mansion in the course of business. It was not as if one them handed Oney a copy of Tom Paine's THE RIGHTS OF MAN (Oney was illiterate) It was something in the way they comported themselves, there was an air about them. They had something that Oney lacked, and that was freedom. The last straw occurred one day, when Martha Washington called Oney aside and told her that she was to be given as a belated wedding present to a dear friend of Mrs. Washington. It would be such a surprise! It was a bit of a surprise for Oney, also. She had understood she was an enslaved woman, but the idea of being someone's wedding present drove home the full horror of chattel slavery. In addition, the lady in question had, according to Oney, the reputation of being a "Mean spirited woman" who took delight not only in the benefits of having a slave, but also the sadistic pleasure of rubbing it in. Oney felt she had to get away. But where? A slave's education did not include a course in geopolitics, but Oney could tap into something even better; an up to the minute intelligence network provided by the Free Black community of Philadelphia, complete with guides and safe houses. According to Oney "I had friends among the Colored people of Philadelphia and had my things carried there before hand and left while the Washingtons were having dinner." It was simple as that. However, while Philadelphia was big, it was not that big. Oney would have to continue her escape. The sea was her best bet, although the penalty for aiding an escaped slave was death, there were sea captains willing to look the other way. One of these was Captain John Bowles, master of the coastal trading sloop NANCY. Captain Bowles would be sailing to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, with a cargo of farm equipment--and Oney Judge. A ship bound for Europe or Britain might have been a better choice, but fugitives can't choosers; President Washington was now making inquiries and time was of the essence. The voyage to Portsmouth was uneventful (Although Oney may or may not have met her future husband, the free Black seaman, John Staines, aboard the NANCY.) Oney went ashore and followed memorized instructions to a safe house in Portsmouth. Slavery had not yet been abolished in New Hampshire, but slaves and free Blacks interacted freely in the easy going city of Portsmouth. Oney found work as a seamstress was quickly absorbed into the vibrant Black community, which was well organized, politically astute and quite well educated. Indeed in 1779, three years after the signing of the Declaration of Independence, 20 Portsmouth slaves signed a remarkable document asking for their freedom. The document "The Petition to the New Hampshire Government" compares favorably to the Declaration of Independence (and is considerably less hypocritical) Some of the more memorable lines from the 1779 Petition are worth citing: "That Freedom is an inherent right of the human species not to be surrendered, but by consent for the sake of social life" "That private or public tyranny and slavery are alike detestable to minds conscious of the equal dignity of human nature." "That all men being amenable to the Deity, for the improvement of the Blessings of his Providence, they hold themselves to be duty bound strenuously to exert every faculty of their minds to obtain that blessing of Freedom, which they are justly entitled to by the donation of the Creator." The Petition was well written, closely reasoned, and obviously heartfelt. Naturally it was rejected by the New Hampshire Legislature. Oney was plunged into this heady mixture of freedom seekers and freedom achievers. It was a hard life in a harsh New England climate, but she loved it. Now what did Oney want? Well, she wanted to learn to read and write, she wanted to marry the person of her choice, and interestingly enough, she wanted to paint. Not outhouses or barns, but portraits, landscapes, that sort of painting. She may have seen the great American painter, Gilbert Stuart, in action painting the President's portrait. Oney thought she would like to give it a try! Rather uppity for a slave girl, but that's what she wanted.
She was a victim of demographics. Although there were more than 3 million people in America, only a few thousand actually ran the country and they all knew each other. One day Oney was walking along Strawberry Banke in Portsmouth when she was spotted by Miss Elizabeth Langdon, daughter of Senator John Langdon of New Hampshire. Miss Langdon had been a guest at Mount Vernon and had met the talented Oney Judge while staying with the Washingtons. She innocently wrote a letter to Martha Washington about the amazing coincidence of seeing Oney on the streets of Portsmouth. President Washington now knew the location of his escaped slave. He acted with his characteristic dispatch, sending a letter via the Secretary of Treasury to the nearest Federal Officer. That would be the Honorable Joseph Whipple, Collector of the Port of Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Whipple was a tax collector. One of the relatively few sources of income for the Federal government was customs duties charged on foreign imports. It was an important job and it obviously required honest men if the government was to remain solvent. Joseph Whipple was an honest man, steadfast and true; a person of honor, very much like yourself. Like yourself? Well, yes. This is where it starts to get interesting, neighbors. Joseph Whipple is going to provide some lessons on how to evade an immoral order and still keep your job. Valuable career information, neighbors, as the Bush Administration still has 11 months to run The letter from George Washington to Joseph Whipple was interesting. It was a straight forward request from Washington to Whipple in his role as a Federal officer to assist Washington in the recovery of his stolen property, one Oney Judge. Stolen? Well, um, sort of, maybe. You see, Washington decided to embellish the request with a little white lie. (He had resisted temptation in the cherry tree incident, but apparently the Oney Judge case proved too much a challenge). Washington felt he had to explain to Whipple the reason why his slave was in Portsmouth. So, Washington concocted the Lecherous Frenchman Story (Now, neighbors, we plain spoken, straight shootin' Anglo Saxons have always had an inferiority complex competing with Frenchmen in the field of romance. The legend had grown up that Frenchmen had an irresistible way with women of any race, age, nationality, or marital status. It wasn't fair but that's the way it was and everyone believed it. According to Washington, a lecherous, oleaginous Frenchman had taken advantage of the Washingtons' hospitality and ingratiated himself into the household and played the perfect cad by seducing the impressionable slave girl, filling her head with ideas of running off with him to Portsmouth "Probably leaving her with child". The lecherous Frenchman story was a big mistake. Joseph Whipple, like you, was a Federal Law Enforcement Agent. Sea captains and merchants lied to him every day in his role as tax collector. Like you, he was pretty good at spotting a tall tale. Something about the Frenchman story may have sounded, as modern LE would say, "Hinky." You see, it was Whipple's collateral duty job to note if there were any strange Frenchmen in Portsmouth. America's relationship with its former ally, France, had gone rapidly down hill after the French Revolution of 1789. While there was "Liberty, Fraternity, and Equality, there was also The Terror, The Guillotine, and fanaticism. French Intelligence agents were operating in North America; French privateers would soon be taking American merchant ships off the Delaware coast. America would fight an undeclared naval war with France. Congress would enact the Alien and Sedition Act, the 18th century equivalent of the Patriot Act. It was a time, in short, not unlike our own. Whipple, however, had not observed the arrival of any Frenchman in Portsmouth. Strange. Still, here was a request from the President of the United States through the Secretary of the Treasury asking for assistance! According to the letter from President Washington, the Collector of the Port of Portsmouth should "Seize and put her on board a vessel bound for this place (Philadelphia) or to Alexandria (VA) which I should like better, seems at first view, to be the safest and least expensive. But if she is discovered, the Collector, I am persuaded, will pursue such measures as to him shall appear best, to effect those ends, and the cost shall be re-reimbursed and with thanks besides." Here was a chance for a mid- level federal bureaucrat to score points with the President of the United States! Indeed, neighbor, what would YOU do if approached by one of Bush's flunkeys (say, Lyle Laverty) who asked you to perform a small personal service for the president (Nothing illegal, mind you!) that would please the President very, very much? I thought so! Whipple jumped at the opportunity to be of service. Writing to Secretary of the Treasury Wolcott, Whipple wished "To assure you that I shall with great pleasure execute the President's wishes in the matter." Joseph Whipple was the very model of an efficient bureaucrat. He not only located where Oney Judge was staying, he was careful enough not to spook her with an arrest attempt. Instead, he booked passage for her on a ship bound for Virginia and then lured Oney to the Custom House on the pretext of offering her employment. Oney showed up and admitted she was indeed Oney Judge, the escaped "Servant" of George Washington, President of the United States. It would now be a small matter to hustle her on board the ship, get on with his duties and enjoy the gratitude of the First Executive. However, Joseph Whipple was, like you, a Person of Honor. Something was not quite right. There was another side of the story and Whipple decided to hear that of Oney Judge. So, he took time to interview her and get the facts. There is no transcript of the interview, but Oney must have presented a truly moving defense of her actions. First, as Whipple may have suspected, there was no lecherous Frenchman leading a simple maiden astray. The idea of escape had been Oney's and Oney's alone. Moreover, according to Whipple "A thirst for complete Freedom" had been her only reason for absconding." Whipple stated this in a letter to Washington. A thirst for complete freedom. This was, after all, what the Whipple family was all about. His brother William was one of the signatories of the Declaration of Independence and had served at the Battle of Saratoga and suffered with Washington at Valley Forge (ironically, one of William's slaves, Prince Whipple, was a signatory of the 1779 Petition to the Government of New Hampshire, asking for Freedom) Joseph Whipple himself had served as Colonel of militia in the Revolutionary War. In short, Joseph Whipple, like you, considered himself one of the Good Guys; a person of Honor. Therefore, he could not in good conscience send her back into slavery against her will. So what was Joseph Whipple (and you) to do? Remember, this was the President of the United States asking a Federal Officer to do something that was quite legal, (if morally queasy). Being a bureaucrat and not wanting any trouble, .and above all, wanting to keep his job, Whipple tried flattery and compromise. Writing to Washington, Whipple said "it gave me much satisfaction to find that when uninfluenced by fear, she expressed great affection for her Master & Mistress (that would be George & Martha) and without hesitation, declared her willingness to return and serve with fidelity during the lives of the President and his Lady if she could be freed on their decease, should she outlive them, but she would rather suffer death than return to Slavery and be liable to be sold or be given to other persons." Oney (and Whipple) were offering Washington a deal--a compromise. How come? First of all, the Washingtons were not monsters. Oney was not chained to the wall at night, nor was she beaten Oney had been living the life of an upper middle class woman, eating pretty much what the Washingtons ate, living in nice quarters and so on. She had a surprising amount of freedom. For example, she enjoyed the theater, and Washington made sure she had enough pocket money to buy tickets whenever she wanted. She also traveled independently by stage coach Ðand was given per diem to do so! By 18th century standards, life had not been bad for Oney Judge. However, it did lack that vital ingredient, "Complete Freedom".
The ship sailed without her. Understandably, the President was upset. Whipple had the girl in his office and yet she got away! How was this possible? There weren't any 18th century jokes about "How many Federal Bureaucrats does it take to tie up a girl and toss her onto a boat?" But Washington could certainly wonder. The President may or may not have bought the story about the wind delayed ship, but he certainly was not buying the idea that anyone, particularly the President of the United States, should have to negotiate with a slave girl! Writing to Whipple, Washington growled "I regret that the attempt you made to restore the girl who, without the least provocation absconded from her Mistress, should have been attended with so little success. To enter into such a compromise with HER as she suggested to YOU is totally inadmissible." Now, neighbors, if you saw a future bad performance review for our fellow bureaucrat, Joe Whipple, you wouldn't need a crystal ball. Except for one thing. Whipple was an excellent student of human nature and had Washington pretty well figured out. The President didn't want any bad publicity. He was the most famous and beloved man in America and wanted to keep it that way. Everything Washington did was done with grave dignity; nothing must be seen as tawdry, low or underhanded. This was the President's weakness, if it could be called that. Whipple shrewdly chose to play on that weakness. Like Washington, Whipple told a little white lie. He told Washington the popular opinion in Portsmouth was for Universal Freedom for all people. This noble sentiment was certainly not the case, New Hampshire still permitted slavery and free Blacks were barely tolerated in Portsmouth. Whipple knew this, but he was gambling that Washington did not. He further hinted that mobs would riot on the docks if Oney was forcibly seized. One could imagine that it would be necessary for the militia to open fire on the mob. Now, of course, if the President wished to continue this enterprise ... Washington took the suggestion hook, line, and innuendo. In a letter to Whipple, Washington stated "I do not mean however, by this request, that such violent measures be used as would excite a mob or riot, which might be the case if she had adherents or even uneasy Sensations in the minds of well disposed citizens. Rather than either of those should happen, I should forego her Services altogether..." The gambit had worked! Whipple had succeeding in placing doubt in Washington's mind as to whether the game was worth the candle. Whipple was able to smoothly reply to Washington: "I will now Sir, agreeably to your desires send her to Alexandria, if it be possible without the consequences which you except--that of exciting a riot or a mob--or creating uneasy sensations in the minds of well disposed Citizens--the first cannot be calculated before hand--it will be governed by the popular opinion of the moment--or the circumstances that may arise in the transaction. The later may be sought into and judged of by conversing with such persons without discovering the occasion. So far as I have had opportunity, I perceive that different sentiments are entertained on this subject." Now neighbors, the above gobbledygook is a perfect example of Bureaucratic Aikido! Indeed, it is the Gold Standard and should be considered as a model in any correspondence with George Bush or Lyle Laverty responding to a request to do something environmentally unethical! Evelyn B. Garson, in her Masters Thesis "A Thirst for Complete Freedom," writes admiringly of Whipple's tactic: "Whipple constructed a loophole for himself by using the President's own words. The Customs House could placate both the Chief Executive and the Secretary of the Treasury with reports that Washington's request would be carried out in earnest. Yet the Collector never actually had to implement the orders or produce results because he had the perfect excuse: seizing the fugitive would stir just the type of anti-slavery sentiments that the President wished to avoid. Thus, Whipple paid lip service to the President's request, but basically did nothing to send Oney back." Meanwhile, Oney had complicated things, as young people will do, by falling in love. The object of her affection was John Staines, a "Black Jack," that is a free Black sailor based in Portsmouth. The Maritime industry was one of the few integrated trades where a Black could get reasonably good pay and rise on merit. The couple announced their engagement and plans to be married. Presumably, they planned to live happily ever after. Not if George Washington could help it. Marriage to a free man would immensely complicate the recovery of Oney Judge. Could the wedding be stopped? (Now neighbors, you may be wondering why this true life soap opera was never made into a movie or a Broadway musical? So am I!) The ever helpful federal bureaucrat Joseph Whipple said he would try but had doubts as "they were published for marriage agreeable to the law". Whipple was able to provide Washington with the good news that the Portsmouth town clerk would withhold the marriage certificate. The bad news was that the couple simply went to the next town of Greenland, New Hampshire where the town clerk was happy to do the necessary paper work On January 14, 1797 they placed their wedding intentions in the NEW HAMPSHIRE GAZETTE. They were married shortly thereafter, possibly Sunday, January 15, by Reverend Samuel Haven. Damn bad luck, Mr. President! Not that Washington was giving up. The same dogged tenacity that carried him through to victory in the Revolutionary War was applied to the pursuit of Oney Judge. Like the Present Incumbent, Washington was undoubtedly coming to the conclusion that you just can't trust Federal Bureaucrats. As George Bush learned in Florida, it is far, far better to use family members when there is important work to be done. Washington, now out of office, learned that his nephew, Burwell Bassett Jr was going to Portsmouth, New Hampshire on business. Over wine and cheese at Mount Vernon, Washington asked Bassett if he could "recover" Oney and her baby as it would make Aunt Martha very happy. Bassett, being family, readily agreed. The Washingtons had a reliable contact in Portsmouth or believed they did. It was none other than Senator John Langdon, whose daughter Elizabeth had blown the whistle on Oney Judge's presence in Portsmouth.
Bassett discovered where Oney Staines lived, and just as importantly, that husband John was off to sea. She and their baby were all alone. Basset made overtures to Oney that all would be forgiven if she would but return to with him to Mount Vernon. Oney refused. At the Langdon dinner table, an angry and indignant Mr. Bassett went on about how the "ungrateful servant' had failed to listen to reason and it would now be necessary to use force to recover her. Now neighbors, Basset thought that the Langdons were co-conspirators. Actually, they were the Good Guys. (Elizabeth's blowing Oney's cover a few years back had been apparently accidental.) The Langdons kept Bassett busy with wine and small talk, while Senator Langdon dispatched his butler to warn Oney to take the baby and get out of town as quickly as possible. She did and Bassett found empty quarters. He was forced to return to Mount Vernon and report yet another failure in the Oney Judge Staines recovery saga. Washington, that model of persistence, would undoubtedly try again, but he died suddenly a few months later. His death ended organized attempts to recover Oney, though technically she remained a fugitive slave until her death in 1848. So what can the 200 year old Whipple-Washington encounter teach the modern federal bureaucrat, that is, you, about dealing with an unethical request from say, George Bush or more likely, from his minion Lyle Laverty, without getting "counseled"? I believe we can glean the following tips from the Collector of the Port of Portsmouth. 1. NO HEROICS, PLEASE. There is an almost irresistible desire to appear as a Noble Defender of Justice, or the Environment or whatever, against the combined Forces of Evil. By issuing a Stirring Declaration of Principles. Resist this Temptation! You will be destroyed. There is no point in falling on your sword. Your job is to uphold Good and defeat Evil. You will note that Joseph Whipple did not give an interview with the NEW HAMPSHIRE GAZETTE denouncing Washington's request. Indeed, except for the somewhat reproachful note in a private letter to Washington stating that Oney Judge was motivated only by "A Thirst for Complete Freedom", Whipple did not condemn Washington's request. 2. RESPECT YOUR BOSS AND HIS/HER REQUEST, BUT VERIFY THE STORY. Joseph Whipple had his boss's side of the story, but he took time to investigate the other side of the story--that of the enslaved Oney Judge. You should also take time to make sure your boss has all the facts straight 3. NEVER SAY NEVER! You will note that Joseph Whipple never said "No" to any request from Washington indeed, he kept assuring the President that Joseph Whipple was the man to do the job! Yessiree! He was glad! He was honored! He was on the job! It was just that nothing ever happened. 4. ASSESS STREGTHS AND WEAKNESSES OF THE OPPOSITION. George Washington was the most beloved and revered figure in America and had achieved almost God- like status in the hearts of his countryman. On the surface, this made him seem almost invincible. Who could defy such a charismatic figure? But Whipple realized that this strength could be a weakness. George Washington had an image to protect. Whipple could hint about adverse publicity and obtain virtually permanent delay. George Bush, on the other hand, is one of the most reviled personalities in the history of the Presidency, on the surface, this might seem a weakness. However, this means that Bush has no image to protect. There is very little that you as a bureaucrat could leak or reveal that would embarrass an administration that doesn't give a rat's rectum about what people think. You will have to choose your battlefield carefully, and have lots of evidence and lots of friends. Still, insistence upon absolute transparency is the best defense in dealing with a "shady" request. Yes, but what happened to the NPS in Philadelphia, tied to the railroad tracks of Apparent Bad Publicity, with the implacable locomotive of the" Avengers of the Ancestors" thundering down upon them? Again, neighbors, one of Bureaucracy's Little Lessons: Tell the Truth and Shame the Devil! The NPS did what it is very good at: Telling a story in a dramatic fashion. A viewing platform was quickly built in front of the working archeological excavation. Visitors were encouraged to ask questions of the archeologists as they worked. Interpretive panels told the life stories of the nine Washington household slaves. All available facts were told, nothing was withheld. The Avengers of the Ancestors were invited to participate and were delighted to do so, coming up with a ceremony involving the pouring of Nile River water on the site and burying nine plaques with the names of the nine Washington slaves that worked in the Philadelphia executive mansion. The slave quarters excavation exhibit was one of the most popular exhibits in the history of the National Parks. More than 300,000 visitors mounted the viewing platform in a period of four months: That is more than some parks get in a year. All's well that ends well. Naturally, there had to be an end to the archeological dig, but the story will continue. There will be a permanent exhibit on the site of the slave quarters, depicting the lives of Oney Judge and the other 8 enslaved. Ironically, visitors waiting to view the Liberty Bell will pass by the Slave Quarters Exhibit, causing meditation on the complexities of Liberty and Freedom in our history. The only thing one could add to this successful outcome would be a small monument to that sly, enterprising bureaucrat, Joseph Whipple, who understood "The Utmost Love of Freedom" and is a model for us all. NUT CASE The Chesapeake & Ohio Canal National Park is the longest and narrowest park in the National Park system.
It follows the route of the old C & O Canal from the tidewater seaport of Georgetown (now in downtown Washington DC) to its final terminus 184 miles west in Cumberland, Maryland., The park averages about 100 feet wide; thereupon which hangs our story. Now neighbors, 100 feet is not very wide when it comes to parkland, particularly national park lands. You see, national parks deal in Illusion. That is, the park patron should feel he/she has stepped into a "vignette" of American history or American wilderness. Even Yellowstone National Park is an illusion. It is true that the Thorofare Ranger Station is the most remote point in the lower 48 states, being 32 miles from the nearest road, about a 2 day horse back ride or a 3 day backpack, according to long time seasonal ranger Bob Jackson You can stay in the Thorofare campground 3 days, but then you must hike or ride back to that inevitable 21st century road. Now your helpful National Park Service tries to keep the Illusion alive by rationing wilderness use in Yellowstone and other national parks by requiring that you arrive and leave a campsite before the next user, or that your raft or kayak is discreetly around the bend and out of sight before the next group comes through, leaving you with the Illusion that you are a member of the Lewis & Clark expedition. Some wild illusions are easier to preserve than others. Mount Rainier National Park snuggles up against the US Forest Service's William O. Douglas Wilderness Area creating an easily maintained feeling of limitless wildness. Civilization lies beyond the watery horizon of Isle Royale National Park in Lake Superior and a park patron can entertain the illusion that he/she is an 18th century courier de bois even though one's canoe is Kevlar not birch bark Maintaining the Illusion in an historical park is a bit more difficult. Battlefields were often chosen because there was important rail or highway junctions or navigable rivers in the immediate area. This means that in the years after the battle, the rail or highway or rivers make for big cities. This means, for example, visitors to Chalmette Battlefield where Andy Jackson saved New Orleans, must imagine the British infantry massing at what is now a defunct aluminum refinery. As industrial historical sites go, the modern Chesapeake & Ohio is probably an aesthetic improvement over the original: No piles of mule exhaust on today's tow path, and thus no flies. The main cargo in historic times was soft coal, not the cleanest of cargos. I suspect a film of black dust covered most everything and everyone. As firewood would have been needed to feed inefficient stoves and nobody wanted trees falling into the canal, the picturesque forest of today would have been much reduced in historic times. Today, on an autumn or spring day, the watered sections of C & O Canal shimmer like a French impressionist painting, and people are enchanted. "So much wild nature has been preserved" Canal users gush. It is, of course, an illusion, but an illusion worth preserving. However The C & O Canal is not insulated by other public land, but butts up hard against private property. The question is: How do you maintain the illusion of a 19th century canal scene when the neighbors are rich enough to own some of the more expensive homes and toys in America and a certain percentage of whom feel a divine right to express and expand themselves. The answer, unless the Agency has unlimited funds to purchase land, is the Scenic Easement. The Scenic Easement is a way of defanging development. For a sum of money or other valuable considerations such as a tax break, or a combination of both, the owner of the land agrees to encumber his property with certain restrictions. Now the restrictions are usually not particularly onerous. Often they consist of keeping, on doing what you have been doing, such as running a cattle ranch or a farm, or a wood lot. Naturally, you may not change things by building a mall or a subdivision on your property. What was required to preserve the historic illusion of C& O Canal was that the rich neighbors maintain really woodsy backyards; we mean REALLY woodsy, Eastern hardwood forest woodsy, with a thick understory. This would prevent intrusive views of 21st century mansions and Mercedes-Benz automobiles from the Canal tow path and provide the illusion that the woods stretched into Canada. No visible swimming pools, tennis courts or party decks, please. Generally speaking, this was quite agreeable to the wealthy, as they rather famously treasure their privacy and usually have no desire to watch a passing parade of bicyclists, joggers and walkers. Given their druthers, most of the rich would rather watch trees than people. Naturally, there are exceptions. One of them was the owner of the Washington Redskins, Dan Snyder, who in the name of eradicating evil, "invasive" exotic trees clear cut his property abutting the C& O Canal, with the (totally unintended) collateral effect of providing the Snyders with an unobstructed view of the Potomac River. As the land in question was under a scenic easement, this resulted in a confrontation between Mr. Snyder, the NPS, and more importantly, Montgomery County. Readers of the article "Kayaking the C & O" in issue # 264 of THUNDERBEAR will recall how Mr. Snyder easily outmaneuvered the NPS but was undone by the Montgomery County Planning Commission which takes a dim view of messing with a scenic easement. In retribution, Montgomery County saddled the Redskins owner with even MORE scenic easements which substantially reduced the value of his property. Given that example, one would think that the wealthy C & O Canal neighbors would simply, well, kick back and enjoy life. Well now neighbors, that just goes to show you don't understand the truly wealthy. When they want something, they do something about it: It's what made them rich in the first place! Hal Borland, Environmental writer for the NEW YORK TIMES sort of noticed this. Writing about special interests and the fate of the environment, Mr. Borland wrote: "The most unhappy thing about Conservation is that it is never permanent. Save a priceless woodland or an irreplaceable mountain today, and tomorrow it is threatened from another quarter." This is particularly true when your park has rich neighbors: Many of them cannot fathom that rules, regulations and agreements made by and for mere mortals actually apply to THEM!
Now the naturalist and literary critic Joseph Wood Krutch had remarked "If people destroy something irreplaceable made by mankind, they are called vandals; if they destroy something made by God, they are called developers." Mr. Mardirossian would beg to differ; he would call it Progress. Aris Mardirossian is an American success story; a hard driving Armenian immigrant, he made the American dream come true. One reason for his success, aside from immigrant grit, hard work and optimism, is the fact that he trained as an engineer. Engineers are by definition forward looking "can do" never give up sort of people. You never, ever want to tell an engineer that something is impossible; you might find it done even if it is not a good idea. It also definitely is not a good idea to cross Mr. Mardirossian; he will make life interesting for you. "I don't get even, I get competitive" he explains modestly. One group that found out how competitive Mr. Mardirossian can get was the Southland Corporation which owns the 7-11 convenience stores. Mr. Mardirossian had a building that Southland wanted to buy to turn into a 7-11. Mr. Mardirossian evicted the tenants in preparation for sale. Southland reconsidered the deal, leaving Mr. Mardirossian with an empty building and no rental income. Bad move on Southland's part. Mr. Mardirossian decided to get into the convenience store business. He called his chain "6-12". They were open slightly longer than 7-11's, were somewhat larger in size, had a small deli, offered a more eclectic inventory -- and were always located next to a 7-11. Mr. Mardirossian prospered. Others did not. Like we say, it is best not to cross Mr. Mardirossian. Now neighbors, one can imagine the feelings of frustration that Mr. Mardirossian was experiencing. He had purchased these three acres next to a national park but the damn scenic easements were preventing him from the full use of his property. What to do? Being the good engineer and sound businessman that he is, Mr. Mardirossian undoubtedly observed and learned from mistakes of his neighbor, Dan Snyder in Dan's war with the National Park Service and Montgomery County. Snyder had attempted a Blitzkrieg, securing a permit to remove "some" trees from a trusting NPS that believed he had also occurred a permit from Montgomery County, which he had not. He clear-cut the trees and presented Montgomery County with a fait accompli. The County was famously not impressed and treated Mr. Snyder roughly, regardless of his money and the importance of his football team. Now friends, there are reasons that Aris Mardirossian is richer than you and I. It is not necessarily that he is more intelligent, it is just that he examines and weighs all of the options; things that might not immediately occur to you and me. Ah! There now! He has it! Eureka! The Solution! The solution was the Americans with Disabilities Act. Mr. Mardirossian has two little boys, aged 6 and 7, who are allergic to nuts. Now where do nuts come from? Aside from peanuts, which are not true nuts, most nuts come from trees. Now what trees make up a significant portion of the Eastern hardwood forest? Well now, that would be oak, hickory and walnut, all of which are acorn or nut bearing, and thus, theoretically, a threat to the Mardirossian children. With the ADA in mind, Mr. Mardirossian sent a formal letter through his engineering firm to the National Park Service, that is, the C & O Canal National Park, describing his plans for his 3 acres of woodland. Now the NPS apparently did not realize that the letter was not a chatty note from a next door neighbor describing their summer plans, but was a Letter of Intent that automatically started a legal clock ticking. Unless the NPS responded within 30 days, Mr. Mardirossian could continue with his plans. The NPS did not respond. The NPS was effectively disposed of as an obstacle. The next and much more formidable obstacle was Montgomery County. He almost made it. Thanks to the NPS lack of response, Mr. Mardirossian actually got a permit from the Montgomery Permitting Board. Then the peanut butter hit the fan. There are advantages to layers of bureaucracy. Someone apparently tipped off the Montgomery County Planning Commission. A Montgomery County Commissioner, exasperated by the seemingly inexhaustible naiveté of the National Park Service, remarked: "The Park Service acknowledges that they dropped the ball. We are now in a situation of trying to make sure that County law is protecting the Park's natural resources." With that goal in mind, The County called a Public meeting. This forced Mr. Mardirossian to publicly defend his plan. It seems that Mr. Mardirossian planned to remove some 55 nut bearing trees and to build a six foot tall ornamental iron fence around the perimeter of his property to keep his kids from wandering out into federal nut tree infested grounds. Needless to say, the hearing attracted some interested bystanders. The Audubon Society pointed out that Mr. Mardirossian's purchase of the nut afflicted property encumbered with a scenic easement, was a "self imposed" hardship. Mr. Mardirossian admitted that he had not checked the property for nut trees before purchase. With the fervor of a medieval priest holding up a crucifix before an alleged vampire, Mr. Mardirossian invoked the Americans with Disabilities Act, stating that his children had the right to live anywhere they wanted to and that the ADA gave him the right to defend his children against nefarious nut trees. Others at the hearing begged to differ. Admirers of the C & O Canal said that the ecology of the national park should not be altered for the benefit of Mardirossian's children. One acerbic neighbor acidly remarked that a decision in favor of Mardirossian would lead to heretofore undiscovered allergies and syndromes among wealthy people with an ax to grind and time and money enough to spin the wheel (Indeed, neighbors! There must be SOMEONE out there who is allergic to Redwood pollen; someone who can be guaranteed to swell up and bust if exposed to pollen and could be rented out to interested parties that would like to clear cut a Redwood grove! The possibilities are endless!) Good try but no cigar, Mr. Mardirossian.
Not that Mr. Mardirossian was giving up. He angrily said he would take his nut case all the way to the Supreme Court. "It will be good to go to court. This will be good for Montgomery County, so that everybody will understand" he added somewhat cryptically, if not ominously. Now this was not an idle threat as you will recall that the Conservatives of this Great Nation of Ours have recently acquired a perfectly workable Supreme Court. A decision in favor of Mr. Mardirossian could have far reaching implications. Alas! It was not to be. Time, or perhaps the advice of his lawyers, has mellowed Mr. Mardirossian, who has apparently dropped his "All the Way to the Supreme Court" law suit. Montgomery County, for its part, when approached nicely, has shown its willingness to work with Mr. Mardirossian, who unlike Dan Snyder, had not damaged or removed any trees. The County said he could remove 4 trees (apparently the 4 most aggressively nut bearing) but not the other 51. As for the 6 foot tall ornamental fence, he could build it on his property where it could not be seen by the park going public, but the fence fronting on C & O Canal would have to be a 19th century style wooden split rail fence that would allow the easy passage of wildlife. It is apparently a "win win situation with everyone reasonably happy, including a suitably chagrined National Park Service. But what of Mr. Mardirossian's children, ostensibly the cause of all the fuss. Are the Mardirossian boys doomed to a nutty future and early death due to the heartless NPS and Montgomery County? Probably not. The January 2008 issue of HARPERS magazine has an interesting article by Meredith Broussard entitled "Everyone's Gone Nuts: The Exaggerated Threat of Food Allergies" According to Ms Broussard, while allergies to nuts, including peanuts, certainly do exist, most people live to outgrow them. Simply being around nut trees or even peanut butter is not usually drop dead fatal. You generally have to ingest the stuff. The writer suggests that as allergy treatment is a multi-million dollar industry, its practitioners are not exactly disinterested Tribunes of the People. So what lesson can we as Christian Bureaucrats learn from the Mardirossian Affair? The lesson may be found in Matthew 26:11 when Christ says: "The Poor you will have with you always..." (Often quoted as a good reason for not doing diddly squat to help them) However, the obverse of Jesus" words are self evident, that is "The Rich you will have with you always...and those are the folks you better keep an eye on." THE SAFETY MESSAGE
"It is the unexpected that gets you" said Charles Lindbergh, lecturing his children on the hazards of the Great Outdoors."
That is true, as we noted in the hazards of poisonous fur seals in the SAFETY MESSAGE in issue #273. We would like to elaborate on this theme that it is the unexpected, juxtaposed beside the routine and commonplace that will get you or park patrons in trouble. My wife and I were investigating Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, capitol of the Keystone State, and "high tide of the Confederacy's invasion of the North, during the Gettysburg campaign. (The city was not taken, though its defenses were probed by General Ewell's forces and the resulting skirmish, the Battle of Sporting Hill, is regarded by many historians as the most northern battle of The War of the Rebellion. Sadly, development has overtaken the site of the action and the battlefield is now a parking lot) We were having breakfast at a Harrisburg hotel that offered a substantial breakfast as part of the deal. The breakfast was essentially unsupervised; though there was a Waffle Lassie, a good humored young lady from the Former Soviet Union whose job it was to see that the patron did not insert head or hand into the waffle machine. (Clearly, this was not the outcome Lenin envisioned in 1917) After securing our waffles, we were basically left to our own devices. We could be as creative as we liked. Joan spied a large glass bowl filled with ice cubes and peeled hard-boiled eggs. There was a microwave oven next to the bowl of hard-boiled eggs. Joan likes her hard-boiled eggs warm. She decided to microwave the peeled egg. This she did without apparent misadventure and returned to our table, chatting gaily. Between comments to our guest from North Carolina, Joan sank her knife and fork into her egg. The resulting explosion produced exactly, precisely, and profoundly, the same sound as a.357 revolver discharge. So "realistic" was the sound that the Russian waffle girl dived to the floor under the waffle table All breakfast conversation ceased. There was complete silence. All eyes were on us. The egg had basically disappeared, having blown itself to smithereens. Some of the smithereens were on my face, others on our North Carolina guest. We were uninjured, due to a cooling distance from the egg, (though I finally understood what is meant by that cliché of "having egg on your face." Joan, being much closer to Ground Zero, suffered a first degree burn on her lower lip and, undoubtedly, what any decent New York tort claim lawyer would call "pain, suffering, and psychological trauma." After providing Joan some first aid in the form of an ice cube, I decided to do some accident analysis with the hotel staff. Now those of you who have been Collateral Duty Safety officer will recall that this is not always easy or even encouraged.
No one said it was. The idea of accident analysis is to avoid the blame game and simply break the chain of events that leads to the accident. I suggested that it might be a good idea to (A) move the hardboiled eggs from beside the microwave, or better yet, (B) place a small sign on the microwave advising against putting hardboiled eggs in the microwave Management said no. Their objection was curiously culinary. "No one in Pennsylvania eats warm hardboiled eggs. Hardboiled eggs are to be eaten cold. The fact that the eggs were in a bowl full of ice should have been an obvious clue that the eggs were not to be heated." Oh. This was sort of like contracting trichinosis in Saudi Arabia; you were obviously a sinner and it was your own damn fault and God's punishment. I tried a different tack. "Not everyone was from Pennsylvania" I said. "Not everyone has the Wisdom of Pennsylvanians; would it not be wise to rearrange the placement of things so that ignorant foreign devils would not hurt themselves?" Management said it would consider this. And so it goes, neighbors! The safety moral is and they can be downright ingenious at finding an alternative, safe or unsafe. THE ICONIC KIWI: SIR EDMUND HILLARY I was attending a lecture at the University of Victoria in Wellington, New Zealand in 2007.
The subject of the lecture was "The New Zealand Character: What it means to be a New Zealander." Now, neighbors, this is not a question that is asked in the United States. For one thing, there would be arguments, fights, and lawsuits from various anti-defamation groups, genders, and sexual persuasions, each claiming they were being oppressed and discriminated against. There are some 300 million of us; all individualists, all spring from defiant marchers to different drums; that as square pegs in round holes in their native lands leaped at the opportunity to come to America and be anarchic non conformists. Well, perhaps not entirely so, but enough so that Americans do not like being pigeon holed into proper response and behavior and certainly do not wish to be given a template of the "Perfect American" against which they measure themselves. In truth, neither do the New Zealanders. In spite of being shepherds to the world, they are, in some respects, less sheep-like than their American cousins. The Kiwis have a political system that is far more representative and democratic than our own and ar re given far more political choices; an Electoral College or a George Bush would be unlikely in New Zealand. Still, being only around 4 million people, the Kiwis feel that they sort of know each other, that they are all neighbors, and like good neighbors, they are certain values that bind them together; that is, the New Zealand Character. The New Zealand Character, according to the speaker, is typified by quiet, but granite courage , titanium resolve, unflinching self depreciating good humor (No whinging or sniveling!) supported by superb jack of all trades manual skills . (A Kiwi is handy as a pocket knife as the saying goes.) A true Kiwi never, ever quits! (A tea break is permissible, however.) This Character was forged by the geography and economy of the nation: Dangerous jobs in extractive industries in remote mountains or valleys literally at the Ends of The Earth, where there was no one but your mates to help you and they were often few and far between: Skill and bravery were the norm, to be remarked upon only in their absence. All this was pretty daunting, particularly for an outsider like this Yank. Was there some sort of role model or at least lesson plan for these super citizens? Well, yes, there was. A Middle aged gentleman raised his hand to be recognized and asked the question: "What will we do? What will New Zealand do when Sir Ed passes? Who will show us how to be New Zealanders when Sir Ed is gone?" he asked, plaintively. He was of course referring to that Iconic Kiwi, Sir Edmund Hillary. Strange. I could not imagine an American wondering who would show him how to be an American if George Bush or Dick Cheney were to pass. The funny thing is that Edmund Percival Hillary did not start out to be the role model for all Kiwis He was born a farmer's son on the North Island of New Zealand in 1919. He was a quiet, shy kid, small for his age, uncoordinated, and not good at Rugby, the state religion; a bad resume if you plan to be a boy in New Zealand. His salvation was a school field trip to Tongariro National Park. He discovered mountains and mountaineering. He may not have been good at Rugby, but he was immensely strong and utterly fearless He was quite willing to go where others feared to tread. The other kids understood this, respected him and left him alone. He climbed extensively on the mountains of South Island during school breaks and hit upon the idea of becoming a beekeeper as a profession, so that he could climb during the winter when bees were dormant. Winter mountaineering also was good training for the toughest mountains on earth--the Himalayas. Word of mouth had passed through the English speaking mountaineering community that the lanky, laconic Kiwi would be a good man to have on your expedition. He could carry most anything, possessed enormous endurance and had that expedition perquisite of a good sense of humor and the ability to get along with others. In 1953, Sir John Hunt was putting together an expedition to bag Mount Everest. Would Hillary like to come along? Hillary would. The rest is history. History, however, is a contrary beast and Hillary might have remained an athletic bee keeper had fate not intervened.
They did. Hillary was able to solve the one major technical problem, a 40 foot cliff that is now known as the Hillary Step, and he and Tenzing topped out on the 29,035 foot summit of Everest at 11:30 am on May 29, 1953. He was 33 years old. He was knighted by the Queen and, painfully shy, felt he could now summon up the courage to ask the girl of his dreams to marry him. Well, sort of. This was a challenge that even Sir Ed could not surmount. He asked his future mother-in-law if she would do the proposing for him. She did and her daughter Louise accepted. They were happily married and had three children. Sir Ed continued to climb Himalayan peaks and participate in scientific expeditions particularly Antarctica. He gave lectures and overcame his shyness as his rural Kiwi sense of humor won over everyone who encountered him. A natural diplomat, he was made New Zealand's ambassador to India. His life long friendship with Tenzing Norgay and other Sherpas led him to found the Himalayan Trust, a charitable organization designed to provide the Sherpa people with the development they themselves desire; namely schools, hospitals and reforestation; grass roots stuff, rather than the environmentally disasterous hydroelectric dams and steel mills usually foisted upon poor people by Western governments He pointed out in his laconic Kiwi manner that the people of Nepal did not set out to be poor anymore than the people of New Zealand set out to be affluent. Since through the luck of the geographical draw, Kiwis were affluent, it was up to them to help their Sherpa mates help themselves. Hillary's dedication to the people of Nepal led to the great tragedy of his life. In 1975, Hillary was working in a remote village helping build a hospital. His wife and 16 year old daughter Belinda visited the project and were killed when their light plane crashed on take off. Ironically, Hillary nearly lost his life on another plane, but fate intervened. A popular lecturer on the Antarctic, he was scheduled to narrate a tourist flight from New Zealand to the active volcano, Mount Erebus, in Antarctica. At the last moment, he was forced to withdraw, due to other commitments. His place as narrator was taken by his best friend and fellow climber, Peter Mulgrew. A computer error and a sector whiteout caused the plane to fly directly into the flank of the 12,461 foot peak, killing all 267 aboard: New Zealand's greatest disaster. Hillary later married June Mulgrew, widow of his best friend. Sir Ed and June continued their good works on the behalf of the people of Nepal almost until the end of his life which came quietly in New Zealand on January 11, 2008, possibly due to complications from a fall suffered in Nepal the previous year.
This is of interest on two accounts: The portrait shows him not in the regalia of a Knight Commander of the British Empire, but looking shaggy, scruffy and disheveled; like he'd just come down from the highest peak in the world. Secondly, he was very much alive when he went on the $5.00 note. The Kiwis felt they could trust him not to disgrace himself or his country. (It would be impossible to conceive of placing a living American, say Bill Clinton or George W. Bush on even a three dollar bill) But what of the rhetorical question asked by the middle aged gentleman: "Who will show us how to be New Zealanders when Sir Ed is gone? In his quiet, modest sort of way, Sir Ed took care of that. You will remember that Tongariro National Park proved to be the salvation for the quiet, bookish farm boy not good at organized sports. Just outside Tongariro National Park, well hidden in thick woods, is the Sir Edmund Hillary Outdoor Pursuits Centre, a non-profit, charitable trust that provides a 12 week course in mountaineering, bush craft, caving, kayaking , environmental education and other outdoor skills to the secondary schools of New Zealand so that everyone will know how to be a Kiwi. |
Dear Mr. Ryan,
Thanks so much for reporting your extensive interview with Walt Dabney. It was a joy to read about his very interesting and successful career. He was a student of mine at Texas A & M where I was a professor of Recreation Management for 15 years. I still show slides of him and his brother Ray navigating a portion of the Rio Grande within Big Bend National Park in their homemade kayaks during a spring field trip with my wild & scenic river management course. I also enjoyed your piece about Mary Bomar. By the way, I come to you courtesy of Jim Fox, who retired several years ago as Chief Ranger of Blue Ridge Parkway. He was kind enough to introduce me to THUNDERBEAR before he retired. Sincerely Dick Bury |
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PJ Ryan can be reached at:
thunderbear@erols.com.