Alexandersmap

    Month: May 2018

    • Connecticut Capital Building

      Connecticut Capital Building

      If Hartford, Connecticut is a mix of gritty neighborhoods and gleaming insurance headquarters today, in the late 1800’s it was considered a model city.  Mansions popped up in the Nook Farm area, which rivaled Concord, Massachusetts with the number of artists and writers who clustered in that area.  Insurance companies were also popping up, and bringing massive wealth into Hartford.

      When Hartford was chosen to be the capital city for Connecticut over New Haven, the leaders wanted to build an impressive capital building to show that they had arrived as one of the great cities in North America.  Richard M. Upjohn was chosen as the architect and proposed a Victorian Gothic design to sit up in the hill adjacent to Bushnell Park.  Walking around the property, you see the grandness of their vision, even if they cut corners in a few places.  Marble, granite, stained glass and ornate fixtures show the wealth of the era.

      I’m not an architect, but I appreciate a great building when I see one.  Perhaps some architects find the building audacious (it was and still is), but its a great time stamp from a time in the 1870’s when Hartford was a wealthy city with some of the nations literary giants walking its streets.  Hartford is not that city anymore.  Poverty encroaches on many areas of the city that were once highly desirable neighborhoods for the elite.  The Nook Farm area is now the high school and apartment buildings, with a few historic buildings like Mark Twain and Harriet Beecher Stowe’s homes still telling stories from another time.  The Capital Building tells a story too.  Of wealth and privilege for sure, but also of a city that was finding it’s place in a crowded corner of the country between Boston and New York.

    • Winning the Lottery

      Winning the Lottery

      In 1933 an influenza outbreak spread across the world.  While it wasn’t considered a pandemic, it represented a significant spike in influenza-related deaths that hasn’t been equalled since.  The 1933 outbreak hits home for me; I’m told that my grandfather’s first wife, father-in-law and infant daughter Paula all died in this influenza outbreak.  So my own existence is tied directly to these events.  When Josephine Carmichael died, my grandfather Robert sought out Beatrice Morgan to help care for his three surviving children.  Robert and Beatrice eventually married and had twelve children of their own, including my father.
      The 1933 outbreak was a new variant of H1N1 influenza but wasn’t considered a pandemic even though it was a new variant and spread worldwide.  Perhaps in comparison to the one that came before it 1933 seemed pretty minor by comparison.  The worst pandemic ever recorded was the 1918 outbreak of “Spanish Flu” which killed millions of people.  It was directly related to the movement of people around the world following World War One.  Boston’s ports were one of the transportation hubs and thus the region was hit especially hard by the 1918 pandemic.  The Spanish Flu was unique in that it killed young people who might otherwise survive an outbreak that killed weaker people like the very old and very young.

      Pandemics, natural disasters, world war, the randomness of two people meeting and both paying enough attention to each other at any given moment to be attracted to one another.  Overall health and well being of people in the United States has improved significantly since 1933.  Infant mortality is at its lowest point in history and exponential improvements in medicine ensure more people make it to adulthood.  Childhood diseases that killed or crippled millions were largely eradicated in the years since Josephine died.  We’re all lottery winners just by being born, and being born here and now.  So I have a low tolerance for self-pity and complaining about relatively minor things.  There are plenty of examples of people around the world born into a worse situation than us.  There are plenty of people who aren’t born at all.

      Josephine had four children.  Paula died as her mother did of influenza.  Her older brother Robert died in a car accident when he crossed the line driving drunk in Virginia.  Her other brother died in Korea in the first year of the war in 1950.  Only her sister Marcia lived on, helping raise her siblings from her father’s second marriage until she herself was married and moved away to raise a family of her own.  I didn’t take the opportunity to ask Marcia a lot of questions about her mother, siblings or grandparents before her dementia stole that opportunity away from me.  But I’ll think of them, back in 1933, and the hardships they endured and the virus that they succumbed to.  I’ll never know all the random events throughout history that allowed me to hit the lottery, but I know about them.

    • Experience with Emerson

      Experience with Emerson

      “Life is not intellectual or critical, but sturdy.  Its chief good is for well-mixed people who can enjoy what they find, without question…  To fill the hour, – that is happiness, to fill the hour and leave no crevice for a repentance or an approval.  We live on surfaces, and the true art of life is to skate on them.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson, Experience

      Emerson was at the center of it all.  If Concord was the center of the 19th century literary world, Emerson was the great influencer; the magnet that drew in talented writers, or inspired talented artists to push their own boundaries.  Emerson and Thoreau, Emerson and Alcott, Emerson and Hawthorne, Emerson and French; always Emerson.  The father of Transcendentalism, which promoted the inherent good in people and self-reliance over institutional control, Emerson continues to inspire and lead well beyond his time on earth.  My own personal philosophy is deeply rooted in Transcendentalism.  Emerson is the wise old sage who reaches out from beyond his grave with his Experience:

      “Life is a mixture of power and form, and will not bear the least excess of either.  To finish the moment, to find the journey’s end in every step of the road, to live the greatest number of good hours, is wisdom.”

      When I was in college I took a course which dove deep into Transcendentalism.  I often wish I’d saved the notes from that class.  I’m no scholar, and certainly not an expert in the philosophy.  Emerson was a leading voice in Transcendentalism but not its only voice.  Ultimately we all develop our own operating systems.  My own is far from perfect, but firmly rooted in living in the moment and treating people with respect.  These quotes I’m pulling out are from the yellowing pages of The Portable Emerson, a book I’ve had for a long time.  I’ve never read the entire book, but dabble in it occasionally.  Perhaps thats one of my flaws; too much of a generalist, dabbling instead of spending the time to dive deep.  Conversely, I’ve done my best to live by the spirit of this philosophy even if I haven’t invested the time in fully comprehending it.  But these words I know.

      “Since our office is with moments, let us husband them.  Five minutes today are worth as much to me as five minutes in the next millennium.  Let us be poised, and wise, and our own, today.  Let us treat the men and women well; treat them as if they were real; perhaps they are.  Men live in their fancy, like drunkards whose hands are too soft and tremulous for successful labor.  It is a tempest of fancies, and the only ballast I know is a respect for the present hour.  Without any shadow of doubt,  amidst this vertigo of shows and politics, I settle myself ever the firmer in the creed that we should not postpone and refer and wish, but do broad justice where we are, by whomsoever we deal with, accepting our actual companions and circumstances, however humble or odious, as the mystic officials to whom the universe has delegated its whole pleasure for us.”

      Emerson wrote those words in the last millennium, I’m re-reading them in the next millennium.  Many of us are bridges between the two.  Born and living a portion of our lives in each millennium.  The term itself is nothing but a man-made reference to a period of time.  1000 trips around the sun.  Completely subjective, but meaningful nonetheless in the way that marking time is a gauge to indicate our progression through life.  A reference point to those who lived before us, with us or after us.  Ultimately we’re all going from here to there.  Making the most of here before we get there is all we can do.  And remember those who came before, honor those who are here with us now and leave the world a better place for those who come after us.  Live a bit more like Emerson.

    • Bluebirds

      Bluebirds

      I have a pair of bluebirds nesting in my backyard.  This isn’t an accident – I’d decided earlier this year to put up both a feeder and a birdhouse to give them a place to eat and to nest without competition from other birds.  I spent a few minutes outside sitting quietly in between the feeder and the nest.  Eventually the male made an appearance, first at the feeder, then at the nest.  He’d likely been waiting in a tree somewhere to see what I was all about before he got back to the business of bringing worms and nest material to the female.  I’m sure there’s a great filter that I didn’t use on these pictures, but these represent the colors pretty well.

       

       

       

      While most of the other bird feeders were put away for the season, I’m sticking with the bluebird feeder.  I like the flash of brilliant blue out of the corner of my eye.  I’ve had similar success attracting hummingbirds, cardinals, finches and other birds to the yard.

      There’s a law of attraction principal at work here I’m sure.  A “build it and they will come” allegory.  Whatever.  I like to fill the yard with color and motion, and to be a good neighbor.  The reward is the occasional glimpse into the lives of other creatures who co-habitate with us in this space.

    • Tory or Loyalist? (Depends on which side you’re on)

      Tory or Loyalist?  (Depends on which side you’re on)

      When you win a war you get to decide what you call the people who opposed you in the war.  The history of the United States is full of examples of this.  In the years leading up to and during the Revolutionary War those who wanted to break with the British referred themselves as Patriots and those who opposed them and wanted to remain under the crown were called Tories.  If we think that our current climate is divisive imagine living in 1775 when you had to choose whether to fall in line with your family or neighbors and take up arms against the governing authority you’ve known your entire life or stay loyal and risk being tarred and feathered, having your house burned down, or worse.

      Northern loyalists fled the colonies for Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, and New Brunswick.  In fact, New Brunswick was once part of Nova Scotia until the population swelled with United Empire Loyalists relocating to areas still controlled by the British.  Southern loyalists fled to Florida and the Caribbean islands under British control.  Many took their slaves with them.  Many others returned to England.

      Being from Boston and having a fair amount of Scottish blood running through my veins, I feel a strong connection with Halifax.  When you’re in Halifax that bond with Boston is clear as well.  And there’s also a strong connection to Great Britain in the area.  Over 240 years since the start of the Revolutionary War, and there’s still a fascination with British royalty in all of North America.  How hard it must have been for the loyalists to choose.  Ben Franklin is one of the Founding Fathers.  His own son William was a leader in the Loyalist movement.  This of course drove a permanent wedge in their relationship.

      In contrast to the United States, Canada became independent using diplomacy instead of conflict.  They met amongst themselves to discuss it in 1864, and then met with the British to request it.  July 1, 1867 was the day that Canada was granted self-governance with the British North America Act.  I think many of the original loyalists who fled the colonies would have preferred a diplomatic solution like that had it been available to them.  Uprooting your family from a place you’ve grown a livelihood in must have been both challenging and terrifying for the loyalists.  For the Patriots it was a time to take matters into their own hands, birthing a nation through bold action.  It was complicated for both sides.  Taking up arms and fighting for independence is our American legacy.

      Growing up on the history taught in school in the 70’s, when the tories were “traitors”, the Indians were “savages” and Columbus discovered America, you never thought much about what life was like for the people on the other side.  It wasn’t until I was in college that I really started to see that you can’t believe everything you’re told about another group of people.  I wish a few more people would stop yelling long enough to learn from history.

    • Three Works of Daniel Chester French

      Three Works of Daniel Chester French

      While a lot of the attention in Concord, Massachusetts rightfully goes to the extraordinary writers who lived amongst each other in town, there were other highly-accomplished artists who lived there too.  One of the most celebrated is Daniel Chester French.  French was an American Renaissance/Beaux-arts artist most famous for his sculptures of The Minute Man at the site of the Battle of Concord and for the Lincoln Memorial.  These two works bookended his career and ensured his place amongst the giants of Concord.  In between, French had many notable works, but perhaps his most powerful, and one of his favorites, stands close to French even to this day.

      With the centennial anniversary of the battles of Lexington and Concord approaching, key people in Concord were organizing an event for April 19, 1875.  The existing obelisk marking the site had been placed on the eastern bank of the Concord River, where the British had assembled.  The western side of the bridge where the minute men had assembled to fight them was bare ground.  So a statue honoring those who fought the British was commissioned and designs were solicited for consideration.  French, who’s father was a prominent judge and the inventor of the French drain, was friendly with Concord royalty, including Ralph Waldo Emerson.  Emerson asked Daniel Chester French to submit a design, which of course was chosen.  French was 22 when he started designing the statue, and 25 when it was unveiled to the world.

      The ceremony to unveil “The Minute Man” as part of the centennial celebration of the shot heard round the world was attended by President US Grant, Vice President Henry Wilson, Poets Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and James Russell Lowell, Oliver Wendell Holmes and of course Emerson.  They were joined by an overflowing crowd of over 50,000.  Concord must have been a mad house that week in April 1875.  Ironically, the man of the hour, Daniel Chester French, was not at the centennial celebration, he was in Florence studying under another famous sculptor, Thomas Ball, who created the statue of George Washington on his horse that forever rides in the Boston Public Garden.  Much more information about French’s work on “The Minute Man” can be found in an extraordinary blog post here.

      If “The Minute Man” marked the beginning of French’s career as a renowned sculptor, “Abraham Lincoln” in the Lincoln Memorial was French at his peak.  When completed he was 70.  “Abraham Lincoln” is 170 tons of white Georgia marble.  French began the project in 1914 and did most of the work on this giant at Chesterwood, his summer home and studio in Western Massachusetts.  French spent a lot of time on the hands of Abraham Lincoln.  They’re very detailed and, it’s rumored, give a nod to Lincoln’s support for the deaf by subtly signing the initials “A” and “L”.  I’ve visited the Lincoln Memorial three times and each time I pick up something new.  I’ve never focused on Abraham Lincoln’s hands, but surely will should I have the opportunity to visit again.

      French died in 1931 and is buried at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery not far from Author’s Ridge.  I’m sure he chose this spot carefully as his final resting place.  With old family friend Emerson at the top of the ridge in front of his grave, and one of his favorite monuments right around the corner behind him; his creation “Mourning Victory”.  The Melvin Memorial features French’s monument “Mourning Victory”.  It was commissioned by James Melvin to honor the lives of his three brothers who died in the Civil War.  “Mourning Victory” looks towards the South.  “Mourning Victory” was unveiled on June 19, 1909, 45 years to the day after John was killed.  Of the three brothers who died in the war he’s the only one buried at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.

      As we approach Memorial Day I think more about this monument and the devastation that came with victory it created for so many families like the Melvin’s.

      “In memory of three brothers born in Concord who as private soldiers gave their lives in the war to save the country this memorial is placed here by their surviving brother, himself a private soldier in the same war.
      I with uncovered head
      Salute the sacred dead
      Who went and who return not.”

      On the day that I visited Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, there was a ceremony happening nearby.  A solitary bagpiper played, filling the cemetery with music.  I viewed it as a welcome from the  permanent residents, and I tried to honor them during my time with them.  Daniel Chester French, once a young man starting his career with “The Minute Man” statue just down the street from this spot, chose this place to be his permanent home.  His own grave is simple, not displaying any of the Beaux-art charisma that you see in his work.  Perhaps he drew inspiration from the simple dignity of his neighbor’s graves.  I would contend that that quiet dignity is present in all his great works, and inspires us to this day.

    • Now Comes Good Sailing

      Now Comes Good Sailing

      I’m not sure how I’ll go peacefully into the night, but I hope it’s a long time from now.  When my time comes I hope my last words are as interesting as those of Henry David Thoreau, who, in addition to saying “Now comes good sailing“, added “Moose” and “Indian“.  I’m no expert on Thoreau, but as I understand it he had visited Maine and seen both, and said it would be a lovely place to be buried.

      Thoreau is one of the many interesting people to have come out of Concord, Massachusetts.  Born in 1817, and dying in 1862, he lived a bold life in his 44 years.  Of the greats on Author’s Ridge at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery – Thoreau, Louisa May Alcott, Nathanial Hawthorn and Ralph Waldo Emerson, Thoreau died first.  Hawthorn followed him to the ridge two year later, Emerson twenty years later and finally Alcott in 1888.  There were other legends in Concord at this time, but these four shared a connection in life and the same ground in death.

      Environmentalist, abolitionist, surveyor, handyman, pencil maker, writer, traveler – it seems he would an interesting guy to have an speak with.  I’d love to have been canoeing with Thoreau and Hawthorne to hear some of their conversations.  I’d love to have been at the table at The Old Manse when Thoreau and Emerson got together.  When Emerson traveled Thoreau lived at Emerson’s house.  He lived on Emerson’s land at Walden Pond, where he famously wrote Walden.  He wrote about other places he’d visited – Mount Katahdin in Maine, Cape Cod, his journey up the Concord and Merrimack Rivers.  He also visited Niagara Falls, Quebec, Montreal, and other points in North America.  He never traveled overseas, and he never married.

      Walden was his great work.  The book that influenced me and so many others.  I’m overdue to read it again.  Like many books on my list it waits patiently for another day.  Thoreau might have pointed out that I’ve got to decide what to eliminate to give myself that time.  He didn’t have a television or a smart phone to distract him, but life in 1854 was not without distraction.  The nation was dividing and heading towards civil war.  People lived harder lives.  Henry’s brother died from a shaving cut.  And Henry died young too, but he squeezed immortality out of his 44 years.

      Now comes good sailing.  What an interesting thing to say on your death bed.  Thoreau was clearly interested in death and what awaited him on the other side.  I’m 6 years older than Henry was when he died and I’m in no great hurry to join him.  Will it be good sailing?  Time will tell.

    • Bucket Lists and Daily Life

      Bucket Lists and Daily Life

      We’re in the mad dash now.  Kids in college, new job ramping up, house showing need for repairs, retirement saving, mileage on the cars, Bodhi needing more meds, appliances acting up, stuff accumulating, stuff we seemingly need, stuff we definitely don’t need, should we stay or should we go now?  Time ticking along.  Here we are: This American life as we’ve built it.  Domestic bliss.

      Is that a spaghetti squash on the counter?  The kids are adults now.  I’m not sure I am yet, but they’re eating new foods, trying new things, opening their eyes to the world.  Sometimes they like what they see, a lot of times they don’t.  The world is a complicated nest of too much information, fake news versus real information, everybody trying to get more clicks or views or subscribers.  The drive for influence and income – power and money – drive behavior in the media and in social media.

      I was asked why I don’t get my blog out there for more people to see.  Why nobody knows about it.  Honestly I write it for myself and invite others to see what they want to see.  At some point when there’s critical mass in content maybe I’ll shift it to an e-book.  For now it’s enough to stay in the habit of writing and contributing to something daily (or when I can).  I believe that the people screaming the most for attention have the least to say.  I’d prefer to say something, even if the volume isn’t in line with the world we live in at the moment.

      So….   this post is all over the map but that’s where I want to be myself.  Keep the home and the garden and the job in some form or another but get out and see the world.  Sometimes the world is a flight to Europe or a hike on the AT or sailing from here to there.  Sometimes the world is a walk down the street to visit an old graveyard I’ve driven past for 20 years.   That’s my bucket list now.  Just get out and experience as much as possible in the time I have.  Maybe ease off on the booze and red meat and sugar a bit during the journey.  Eat more leafy greens or dark purple berries.  There’s plenty of advice online should I need guidance.

      Bodhi is clicking his way over here now.  He’s ready to go outside.  He sniffs and snorts and groans and shakes his head.  Time for me to get outside!  Time to go!  What are you waiting for?!  Don’t just sit there!  Let’s go!!  Now, please!  Now!  I know how you feel Bodhi, I know how you feel.

    • Sleeping Giant

      Sleeping Giant

      The Metacomet Ridge runs roughly along the Connecticut River from the Vermont border through Massachusetts and into Connecticut.  In that state, close to Long Island Sound in Hamden, is Sleeping Giant State Park.  This is a part of the Metacomet Ridge and for my money the most interesting formation in the entire ridge.  If you look at the ridge from the North or the South you can see what looks like a giant person lying down…. thus the name.

      This is considered a trap rock mount, made from flowing lava and forming a step formation.  In fact, much of the Metacomet Ridge is trap rock and geologically distinct from other mountains in New England.  The ridge was previously called the Traprock Ridge, which is more descriptive but not nearly as interesting.  The name Metacomet comes from Native American chief who fought with the colonists.  He’s better known as King Philip.

      This picture shows what the “head” of the giant and the upper torso.  Other vantage points offer up the entire body of the sleeping giant.  The foreground, is “progress” in the form of a Dunkin Donuts, liquor store, etc.  I’m sure there were better places to take this photo, but this was what I had to work with today.  The head is also known as Mount Carmel.  Right at the base of Mount Carmel is Quinnipiac University.  There was a time right before Sleeping Giant became a state park when there was an active quarry at Mount Carmel.  With the establishment of the park it ceased operations, thus protecting the park for forever being known as the Headless Giant State Park.

    • To Dance with the Sky

      To Dance with the Sky

      In Tonawanda, New York the Erie Canal meets up with the Niagara River.  Bridges like this one were designed to raise and lower based on boat traffic.  However, the sheer expense of building drawbridges the length of the canal was deemed prohibitively expensive.  As a result they scrapped the plans, killing any hopes of sailing the length of the canal.

      Ultimately the Delaware Street Bridge was only raised a few times for testing, and never for actual boat traffic.  It’s sad when bridges don’t reach their potential.  I wonder what the designers, engineers and laborers who worked on this bridge thought about their creation sitting for years in the lowered position.  For a bridge builder this is probably akin to what a Ferrari designer sees when their car is sold to someone who parks it in the garage without ever taking it for a spin.  While not at all practical, it would almost be better to see the bridge fully open, reaching for the sky.  Alas, that would be a sign of aspiration, not function.  The bridge is still used for trains, so its more logical to leave it in the functional position.  And so this bridge sits in eternal limbo, never again dancing with the sky.