November 2006 Archives

Charles

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As if you didn't have enough to do already, now we have to start packing for Jupiter .

Stephen Hawking  has declared what we all know is inevitable: Humankind must begin colonizing space because we are vulnerable here with no escape hatch. Not only do we face threats from within, but the threat of a cosmic accident , like a comet crashing into us, has statisticians and laypeople alike biting their nails in fear. (OK, maybe not ...)

Not to worry, citizens of Earth. Colonizing space is an old idea. Scientists and astronauts have been discussing the probable return to the moon  by U.S. flight. China is in the game  as well, and Russia was in space first . All of this because of the commercial possibilities in space —as good a reason as fear, I think, to get out there and start selling condos.

So where do we go first? Missions have been sent to various planets and beyond our solar system. And what do we need to ready ourselves for what we find? This is where disaster preparedness kits can help.

Mars has profound dust storms , so it stands to reason we need a dust storm navigation technology —the Army has it.

Venus is blanketed by greenhouse gases , so it's critical to carry our pollution survival plans .

Heavy winds on Saturn  demand the sort of wind storm preparation suggested here .

Space is not the final frontier anymore. It's the next frontier. As with everything else, just grab a flashlight and some bottled water, and you're as ready as you'll ever be.

Engage.

Charles

De Mel, Securitas. Security from honey.

The common bumblebee has been enlisted  in the quest for peace .

Scientists have trained honeybees to react when they sniff out explosives. It is unclear whether or not the bees suffer if the explosives go off: Can small animals ride out an explosion? Or is the force of explosion as destructive on their small bodies as it is to ours? If you know, please share.

There has been a long-term fear of "killer bees"  making their way around the world, and specifically northward into the United States. I imagine they are nearly impossible  to train. But it makes all the sense in the world to nudge them to the task of finding explosives and saving lives. Perhaps the next level of training would be to get the bees to trace the source of the explosives and then respond with extreme agitation.

Charles

Guided by History completes a triptych on the "Great Thanksgiving Fire" of 1982 that destroyed a block of iconic buildings in downtown Minneapolis. (Read Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3.)

Thanksgiving Day.

The Donaldson's building at Nicollet Mall and 6th Street was being demolished, and the fire began when debris in the building was ignited. The suspicion at first was arson, though it was unclear while firefighters tackled the blaze and for a few days following. Fire from the vacant structure leaped to the adjacent Northwestern National Bank building and the top12 floors of that building. Snapshots from eyewitnesses record a dramatic show of flames, smoke, sparks and the streams of water. With daylight on Friday, the whole block was an eerie world of icicles and frozen monuments of rubble as damp smoke rose from the stubborn fire.

The Minneapolis Fire Department  was a little short-staffed due to the holiday, but those on duty rushed to fight the historic fire. They were joined by 50 more off-duty personnel who left their dinners. Neighboring St. Paul firefighters  monitored activities closely in the event their assistance was needed. Very quickly on arrival at the fire, the Fire Department was able to contain it to the one city block the buildings formed. Firefighters were able to attack the blaze from inside the structures by 8:00 p.m.

Megan

Guided by History continues a week-long memoir of the "Great Thanksgiving Fire" of 1982. The fire destroyed a block of downtown Minneapolis, including the Northwestern National Bank Building. NWB was an icon in the region to thousands of employees, customers and neighbors. (Read Part 1 and Part 2.)

Diane Lilly, Government Relations Manager for Wells Fargo in Minneapolis, worked for Northwestern National Bancorporation at the time of the fire. She stopped by my desk the other day to talk about what she remembers about the blaze.

Home on Thanksgiving Day, Diane heard there was a fire downtown. She turned the radio on to discover that it was Northwestern National Bank. A few days later, in hip boots and lighted helmet, Diane toured the 12th floor—the most devastated area. Everything was destroyed; even her telephone had melted away.

Diane learned one difficult lesson: Never leave anything of value at work. The day before Thanksgiving she brought an heirloom pearl necklace to work to have restrung, and it, too, was gone. Looking in the nearly knee-high muck, she managed to find just one pearl.

The hardest thing to live without was a contact list—it was impossible to call people. With no office computers for backup, all information was lost. Although it was possible to continue to work, it wasn't back to normal right away, something people not affected by the fire were quick to expect. But something that unsettling stays with you for a long time.

Megan

Guided by History continues a week-long memoir of the "Great Thanksgiving Fire" of 1982. The blaze destroyed a block of downtown Minneapolis, including the Northwestern National Bank Building. NWB was an icon in the region to thousands of employees, customers and neighbors. (Read Part 1.)

In a small town, something big like a fire burning down the bank would be talked about for years. Does the same hold true in a city like Minneapolis? Personally, the Thanksgiving Day Fire never registered on my radar. But then I was eight in 1982.

I do know from working at the Wells Fargo History Museum in Minneapolis that there are people—many of whom had worked for Northwestern National Bank—who will never forget that day or that fire. People like those who stop by the museum and point out photos of the fire to friends and family, who still have Thanksgiving Day Fire Survivor T-shirts in their closet, and who can clearly recall the marble columns of the 1930 bank building.

Perhaps the greatest impact of the fire was that the Northwestern Weatherball  was removed from the top of the building. The 157-foot-high sign broadcast the weather in colored lights to Minnesotans from 1949 until 1982 (it was removed in 1984 before the building demolition). A replica stands in the museum where visitors recite the jingle that went with it.

The fire left a lasting mark by dramatically altering the Minneapolis skyline. Gone is the 16-story building. In its place is a 57-story building  designed by Cesar Pelli—it's the third-tallest building in downtown Minneapolis (just a tad shorter than the IDS  and 225 South Sixth ). Lit up at night, the Wells Fargo Center  is the jewel of the skyline (OK, I might be a little biased, but really, it is the prettiest building).

Today, the legacy of the fire can't compete against Black Friday  and the siren of the shopping malls. Even back in 1982, news reports focused on the effect of the fire on post-Thanksgiving Day shopping downtown. And really, the balmy 50-degree weather we're expecting this Thanksgiving does nothing to remind us of the chilly weather that turned the water-soaked building into an ice castle 24 years ago. But I think there are a few out there for whom the smell of smoke on Thanksgiving Day will always bring back the memory of a red-tinged sky over Minneapolis.

Charles

This week, Guided by History takes a look back at the "Thanksgiving Day Fire" of 1982, which devoured a block of downtown Minneapolis. The Northwestern National Bank Building, a fixture in the city, was destroyed. A magnificent new tower now stands on the site.

At 5:00 p.m. on November 25, 1982, a fire broke out in the Donaldson's department store building in downtown Minneapolis. The Northwestern National Bank Building, which occupied the block with Donaldson's, caught fire, and the blaze went to five-alarm soon after. Fire crews battled the flames through the night and were still dousing hot spots the next morning. The complex sustained damages of at least $75 million.

For Northwestern National, the loss could have been a major interruption—it caused financial chaos for months. But the company had completed a new disaster preparedness action plan only five months earlier. The plan went into action the very next day, and the story of quick, efficient recovery has become legend in the industry.

The plan was the product of an operations initiative, headed by Virgil Dissmeyer. A blizzard the year before, which caused the fiberglass roof of the Metrodome  to collapse, had prompted a look at the bank's contingencies for everything from nuclear attacks to, well, fire. Employees had to be notified and routed to different locations. Systems and machinery had to be maneuverable. And a new consideration for the time—"minicomputers," today's PC —had to have backup and recovery in place. When it came to records, and the ability to record transactions,  duplication was the chief concern. It is quaint to look over the plan today and see the domination that paper had over business, compared with today's digital basis.

The implemented recovery plan was called "up to speed" by a trade publication  within two weeks. Banking operations were functioning, with some limitations, the day after the fire. Drive-thrus and ATMs were operating. All systems were largely available, but credit was given to the self-sufficiency of the bank's staff.

Charles

According to the news , they barely felt the 'quake in Japan on Wednesday (Thursday there—no, wait ...) before tsunami warnings got everyone to safety. Then, the tsunami traveled all the way from Asia to California and —WHAM!—struck Crescent City , wrecking docks and sinking a boat. One local said he was not aware of the tsunami until he heard about it from others. "We're only three blocks from the harbor," he said to the San Francisco Chronicle. "We didn't know it was coming."

Meanwhile, half a world away in North Carolina, a tornado upended Riegelwood  and killed eight people. "There was no warning. There was no time," one victim said in the AP report. "It just came out from nowhere."

I searched the National Weather Service for "warning system" and got a full page  of links to their procedures and policies.

So why are warnings not received? Is it fiscal trouble in counties? What's our weak link here?

Charles

If your kids have been bad, make them read this post. They'll think twice about giving brussels sprouts  to the dog, I'll tell ya.

So I'm in the Wells Fargo Archives the other day, and what do I find? That's right—the very nuts and bolts of history. Have a seat, and learn away!

When the U.S. got involved in World War II , the Federal government started rationing food, rubber, petroleum, and other supplies . It allowed most of these items to go to soldiers and European victims of war. It was the centerpiece of "the war at home." 

Rationing was a very complex program. People were issued coupons that limited the amount of rationed stuff—three gallons of gas per week, limited weights of meat and eggs per person, etc. Consumers paid with cash and coupons, which then bought wholesale amounts for the merchants. The coupons went through a sort of clearing house that you don't have to care about.

Anyway, the program got too unwieldy for the Feds by 1943. They needed to either develop a huge new bureaucracy to handle the wholesale level or find a system that already existed on which they could piggyback the coupons. Voila!—banks had a great system for moving cash up the chain, so it stood to reason that the same machinery and processes could be used to let the rationing program expand.

In 1943, the Office of Price Administration  developed a new program to route ration coupons through banks. They had checks against coupon accounts and everything.

Ah, History. It's not all kings and battles, you know. Somebody has to teach you about the wholesale clearing of coupons so we'll be ready the next time. More important, somebody has to clear those coupons so that butter flows uninterrupted, from sea to shining sea.

Charles

According to USA Today , the drought that has tormented the Great Plains  the last few years is starting to ease. But as we wrote last summer, drought has such a wide area of impact and is of such duration that it's hard to treat it like a disaster  in the usual sense. You can't just hunker down in your "drought cellar" and wait it out—drought  affects everything while it sizzles.

Water means power, and low levels don't turn the generators . Ecosystems are stressed as wildlife moves away  from dry areas and then congests other areas. The quality of remaining water is lessened, meaning water contaminated with microbes and an increase in disease-carrying agents .

So far, the USDA has a long list of programs  for mitigating the effects on farmers, ranchers and other food producers. When I search the Web for drought relief agencies in the U.S., all I see is tons of news on international drought relief.

Is there an agency or a program that treats drought the same as a hurricane or a volcano? Let me know!

Charles

So we had this big ol' election yesterday to mandate the future of the world. Or maybe it was the usual events on the first Tuesday in November. Whatever the case, the news is big all over—new legislators, interesting voter opinions being expressed and all that. While I muse over a California issue, please weigh in on issues from your home.

There are two old maxims that contradict one another, which means they're both right. "The tyranny of the majority" (Tocqueville , Mill ) suggests the mass of folks will get it wrong every time. The other conclusion is that American voters express common sense (Jefferson ), that people set an agenda that makes government respond.

Take your pick, but let's look at California's Proposition 87  in either light.

Proposition 87 was an ambitious piece of legislation that was designed to tax energy companies to fund new sources of energy. Environmental groups were really, really optimistic  about 87's chances, while energy companies emptied their wallets to combat it. The campaigns were not nasty. Proponents  trumpeted the future, the first move away from our society's dependence on oil, foreign oil in particular. This capitalized on Americans' discomfort with situations in the Middle East, a major theme in this election. Opponents  keyed on the practical aspects of the proposition, which created a large bureaucracy with little or no accountability.

According to the San Francisco Chronicle , Proposition 87 was defeated, 56% to 44%. Americans voted for big changes, but not for this change. Why?

• Are we wedded to our cars, past the point of responsibility?
• What's with the market out there for hybrid cars?
• So why change government so dramatically, only to "stay the course" with energy?
• How does this jive with the defeat of an anti-environmentalist candidate from central California?
• Why vote away a bureaucracy but pass expensive bond measures for improvements by grand margins?
• How could environmentalists have miscalculated by 10%?
• Do people actually vote for oil companies? (Ask all your friends this question and watch their faces!)
• And how do you reconcile people voting "for"  smoking?

Obviously, people didn't vote for Big Oil and Big Tobacco. They voted against things they felt were not proper responses to the issues. Even if they voted "wrong," that's all analysis after the fact. You know—history. And propositions will come up again as they seem to, every June and November.

Never mind politics and issues. Sure, they are exciting and it's a lot like sports. ("Will my side win? I just hate the other guy!") But thinking about how and why the chips fall where they do is what really excites. And the implications.

So I'm inclined to agree with the conclusion that voters express common sense. Which is why you put something up for a vote in the first place—to get the, uh, common sense of the issue. Even if the common sense makes no sense now, it probably will soon enough.

Charles

Memorial services are being held today  for one of the five firefighters killed on October 26. The five lost their lives  while fighting the the Esperanza fire in Southern California.

Those killed were Jason McKay, 27, of Apple Valley; Jess McLean, 27, of Beaumont; Daniel Hoover-Najera, 20, of San Jacinto; Mark Loutzenhiser, 43, of Idyllwild, the captain of Engine 57; and Pablo Cerda, 23, of Fountain Valley .

"Bump Up," Engine 57. Godspeed.

Charles

In the spring of 1872, Wells Fargo & Co.'s Express had been tormented by highwaymen. The company enjoyed excellent gross earnings, but the percentage lost to robbery was steadily growing. The directors of the company agreed to set up an internal force of detectives—"special agents"—to thwart bandits and stop the losses.

Wells Fargo hired James B. Hume, Sheriff of El Dorado County, California . Hume came to the California gold fields in 1849 along with hundreds of thousands of other adventurers. Like most of them, Hume did not strike it rich. But he had a strong character and a knack for enforcing the law. He began as tax collector in the county seat, then called Hangtown by most people. His career got traction—he was made City Marshal in 1864, then Chief of Police and County Sheriff. He served the county for eight years.

As Sheriff, Hume caught many of the wastrels who held up Wells Fargo stagecoaches on remote El Dorado roads. He got a reputation as a man who enjoyed the detection process, whittling leads, and pursuit of the perpetrator. Hume accepted Wells Fargo's offer to establish the Special Agent operation, but it had to wait almost a year as he tracked and captured several prisoners who had escaped Nevada's state prison, and reformed Nevada's prison system.

Hume started building Wells Fargo's investigative unit quickly by getting personally acquainted with drivers and shotgun messengers, and he changed stagecoach routes and schedules. Hume made the valuables box on board too difficult for a single person to handle. His talent for knowing how and where crooks operated allowed Hume to set up efficient dragnets. When a robber sprayed buckshot at a stagecoach, Hume's detectives removed the shot piece by piece and detained several known outlaws. They checked the outlaws' guns for a match, found the crook, and got a confession. It was an early and creative use of the science of ballistics.

Hume worked for Wells Fargo until his death in 1904. His record has many colorful stories about the apprehension of colorful crooks. The notorious "Black Bart" was actually Charles Boles, a mild-mannered and sophisticated city man, not the cackling villain that Hollywood portrayed. Black Bart's offenses against customers' funds tormented Wells Fargo for several years and 28 incidents. All the while, however, Hume meticulously followed every lead and scrap of evidence till Boles was arrested without incident in 1883.

Frederick L. Lipman began his 60-year career with Wells Fargo in 1883 and rose through the ranks to become President. Lipman watched the company transform, from Gilded Age  to Atomic Age . Lipman and Hume resided across San Francisco Bay and commuted together by ferry during their years of service in common. In 1947, Lipman was asked about Hume by a biographer. The questions were of a more personal nature than the usual stories of heroism and tireless manhunts. About Hume, Lipman answered:

• He smoked cigars and chewed tobacco.
• He dressed informally, favoring tweeds.
• Lipman did not know whether or not Hume took a drink but would not be surprised if he had.
• He had a flower garden.
• Lipman knew Mrs. Hume also, who was prominent in church work in Berkeley.

Charles

I found this in the archives the other day. What do you think?

It's a gentle warning and stern reminder (at the same time—marketing GOLD!) to Denver National Bank's customers that economic depression was imminent, but a sound plan of savings would solve the trouble. Sort of like, you know—"Flab is coming! Do 50 sit-ups every day!"  Works for everybody but me, as the old saying goes ...

Anyway, sage actuaries saw 1942 looming as a year of pain. This was not based on the economy, which was doing very well as World War II  production began and the Great Depression  faded. The prediction was based on nine-year cycles over 150 years.

The bottom-line advice? "Money in the bank is a good safeguard," especially as depression looms. In addition, those who save help the economy for those who do not: "You not only help yourself but everybody else by being ready for it" (the coming depression, that is).

There was no depression in '42. Things were OK for years, and pretty good quite often till the 1970s .

But that's another blog .