As Casey has written, there's a tech lag in getting his media to you, dear Reader. So it is with delayed humility that I present to you some vid from Casey on the Road.
(Rumor has it the music is by the Dented Fender Boys.)
As Casey has written, there's a tech lag in getting his media to you, dear Reader. So it is with delayed humility that I present to you some vid from Casey on the Road.
(Rumor has it the music is by the Dented Fender Boys.)
Although I was graciously offered a night's stay in the officer's quarters at Ft. Concho
(another day, another fort) I had to respectfully decline due to my internet needs. One thing I never anticipated about this journey was how challenging the logistics of documenting the experience in real time would be. Without a good internet connection it's even harder.
You may notice a lag time in the blog posts, especially the videos. Well, writing after a long day of traveling and visiting is hard enough — but then to have to download video and photographs from the day, edit them, get them uploaded so they can be reached by folks in the home office far, far away to be published, and to make time to sleep is really more difficult than I ever imagined. Without a good internet connection it's nearly impossible. I've become very envious of the folks at the big news stations with their traveling buses, complete with satellite hook ups, etc.
So, good intentions aside, we really are doing our best to keep these posts up to date. Please bear with us.
But I digress...
After a good night's sleep I was off again. My first stop was Bridgeport, Texas
, home of the elusive toll bridge. In 1860, Colonel W.H. Hunt
built a toll bridge that spanned the Trinity River, mainly for the Butterfield Stage. Apparently, the bridge is no more
. At least no one at the local gas station has heard of it.
I made a valiant effort to find that bridge, but I could not. However, there are bridges in Bridgeport
. In fact, they are darn serious about bridges in Bridgeport. At the park, near downtown, there are no less than three bridges — huge, bright red, through-truss bridges. We also found the largest rocking chair I've ever seen, right on Main Street.
After leaving Bridgeport it was a short ride to Jacksboro, Texas,
the county seat of Jack County, Texas
. When Waterman Ormsby came through Jacksboro 150 years ago today, on the first Overland trip, Jacksboro was only a year old
. According to Ormsby, the town had only a dozen houses, but nearly 200 inhabitants.
Today, if I didn't know any better, I would swear there were less than 200! There was hardly a soul in downtown Jacksboro
when we stopped, except for an occasional truck (the official vehicle of Texas).
However, across the street from the courthouse
, there were some really amazing stone buildings in differing states of disrepair. From the back I noticed that they were in fact facades. Some had dates of 1888, others 1898. Apparently, there is a local effort to restore them, or at least stabilize them, judging from the beams holding up some of the walls.
After leaving Jacksboro we put in a call to Margaret Ann Hoogstra, the Regional Director of the Texas Historical Commission, Texas Heritage Trails Program
. (The Heritage Trails folks have been so helpful to us on our journey through Texas thus far.) Margaret oversees the Texas Forts Trail Region
. She greeted us in Throckmorton, Texas
, along with Trent McKnight, whose family owns a ranch in the area. Trent graciously invited us up to the McKnight Ranch
for some pizza and wonderful conversation.
First of all, the views from the ranch are stunning. You really get a sense of the "rolling prairie studded with mesquite"
that Ormsby described here 150 years ago. The area is no longer "studded" — much to the chagrin of the locals, it's more inundated!
After a big hug, a mug of coffee and a bran muffin to go, I was off to pick up Connie Whalen, Curator of the Wells Fargo History Museum in Phoenix. It was good to see Connie, and I'm looking forward to the next 12 days with her. She quickly whipped our RV into shape, turning it from a traveling bachelor pad to a "home" in one swoop.
I know Juan is going to enjoy his break from the trip, and I wish him much rest. See you again in a couple of weeks, Juan!
Our first stop together was in Denison, Texas
. We headed to Eisenhower State Park
to meet Jill Campbell of the Texas Historical Commission
, Texas Heritage Trails Program
. There are four regions to the program, and she covers the Texas Lakes region
.
This group is amazing, and Jill was really on the ball. She contacted me months ago with offers of support for this trip. She helped arrange a tour on private property, at the landing spot of Colbert's Ferry
, which carried Overland stagecoaches across the Red River near Gainesville, Texas
.
What a treat this was!
We met so many great folks at the park, including Karen Watson of Texas Parks and Wildlife
, Kim Phillips of the Denton Convention and Visitor Bureau
and Superintendent Paul Kisel of Eisenhower State Park. We had a great visit that included a lot of talk about fishing and catfish in particular
— which made me really hungry.
Superintendent Kisel took us to one of his favorite restaurants, specializing in fried catfish (one of my favorites!). We were joined by the aforementioned Jill Campbell and Karen Watson. The restaurant, Farm Raised Huck's Delta Goodness
, claims to be a "good place to eat catfish." It was all that and more! I ordered mine "burnt," which means extra crispy. If you're ever in Denison, you have to stop at Huck's and have some fried catfish.
After great food and conversation I had to, as always, hurry on to the next stop. Sherman, Texas
was only supposed to be a quick stop before my final stop in Decatur
. But that changed when I met Ivert and Jeanette Mayhugh of A Touch of Class Antique Mall
in downtown Sherman, right across from the courthouse.
First of all, A Touch of Class is a first-rate Antique mall, but what makes the place are Mr. and Mrs. Mayhugh. I know I keep saying this, but I mean it every time and particularly this time, these were the nicest folks.
And what a wealth of information and knowledge they have about local history
and so much more! I spent at least an hour with them, although it went so fast. They walked us through their Historic Exhibit Room on the third floor of their shop. In fact, I was there getting the tour until well after they closed.
The mall is located in the historic Hall Furniture Building
, now a Recorded Texas Historic Landmark
. The Building was officially placed on the National Registry of Historic Places
in 2002. Any stop in Sherman must include a visit with the Mayhughs.
What a great day: a Red River adventure, friendly folks and good 'ole fried catfish! It don't (sic) get much better than that! Texas is the longest leg of the journey, and if my first day in the state is any indication of what's to come, I can't wait for tomorrow.
I awoke at the Ft. Smith/Alma KOA
, a great little spot with a pond full of friendly ducks that come right up to your front door for a crumb of bread.
We were headed for Van Buren, Arkansas
, another quaint little town located on the Arkansas River. From there the Overland stagecoaches crossed the river on the way to Ft. Smith. First called Phillip's Landing, the name was changed in 1836 in honor of President Martin Van Buren
. Ormsby described Van Buren as a "flourishing little town."
From Van Buren we crossed the Arkansas River
into Ft. Smith. 150 years ago this morning (just after midnight) Ormsby crossed the river in a flatboat led by a guide with a lantern on horseback. Fortunately for us, there's a bridge.
Once in Ft. Smith, Arkansas
, we discovered a Butterfield marker outside the Ft. Smith History museum
. Much to our delight, the marker had balloons tied to it!
Intrigued, we wandered into the museum and approached the very friendly staff including the Executive Director. I inquired about what exhibits they may have commemorating the Butterfield and was disappointed to learn they had nothing in the museum — just the marker next to the front door. In fact, the Executive Director told me, they hadn't even realized it was the 150th Anniversary until a visitor read the sign and pointed it out yesterday, hence, the balloons.
So we made our way down the street to explore the grounds of Ft. Smith National Park
— a well preserved fort with many original buildings, including the gallows where 67 men were hung for various crimes. From Ft. Smith our journey took us into Oklahoma, which in Ormsby's time was known as Indian Territory. There we traveled through Checotah
, which, as a large billboard proudly reads, is the home of Carrie "I Ain't In Checotah Anymore" Underwood
.
As Casey Gill sets out to follow the Butterfield Overland Mail Co.'s
maiden voyage—150 years to the day!— he shoots video as much as he writes text. (I should know — I have to edit the raw footage.)
Here's some vid from Missouri last week. The story of how it took a week to post it is, well, historic. It involves trouble connecting to the web in remote places. Just as Waterman Ormsby sent his dispatches from the frontier, on the first Overland trip West, by handing it to the passing Eastbound stagecoach, Casey had to find places to stop that had connectivity. And the uploads often took enough time that his schedule was disrupted. The story involves arrivals at his wi-fi destinations long after they were closed—let's just call that the human factor! And of course, his ability to shoot the story and upload the vid was affected by a little bump in the road called Hurricane Ike.
But all's well that ends well, right? Here's the first of many videos from Casey On the Road, following the Butterfield Overland Mail Co. Route. And no, he didn't take a bluegrass band along for the ride. But it's a GREAT idea!
In modern times, it's hard to understand what an epic undertaking it was to launch the Butterfield Overland Mail Route
. From its conception, the enterprise was met with naysayers who thought it impossible to create reliable and safe passage for mail and man through the wild territories of frontier America. Newspapers claimed the task was impossible — the government, in concert with John Butterfield and his partners, were sending passengers to certain death.
But they were wrong. The U.S. Mail got through, accompanied by a newspaper man I've mentioned before, Mr. Waterman Ormsby
. They made it earlier than the 25 days required by the government contract, arriving in San Francisco in 23 days and 23 hours.
And now, 150 years later I find myself on an epic adventure, a modern day Ormsby. While the obstacles and hardships I face recreating this trip are much different than those of Ormsby and Butterfield, I can't help but feel a connection to them.
Unfortunately, I'm finding that time is not a friend on this journey. With the hectic travel schedule, and our reports so dependent on access to technology, I find myself rushing through places that truly deserve more time than I can devote. Having said that, we did manage to see the major sites in St. Louis, for instance: the Arch
(including a 4 minute journey to the top), the Westward Expansion Museum
, the Old Courthouse
> and Union Station
.
The St. Louis riverfront was flooded on our arrival. (Thank you Hurricane Ike
, my nemesis.) On our way to Warsaw, getting on toward evening, we were 20 or so miles down Highway 94
. We saw up ahead what no traveler wants to see on a dark country highway — big red and white barricades marked "Road Closed." The road was completely submerged, another victim of Ike. Once again our plans would have to be altered.
We were hungry and tired, but not discouraged. After all, adjustments had to be made in Ormsby's day, and so too in mine.
But I can report to Ms. Decker's class and everyone at Lowell Elementary, that the mail is safe, secure and dry!
What a day! After saying good bye to John and Jenny at the Oak Hill Court
and thanking them for their hospitality, I was off for another busy day. First stop, Pea Ridge Military National Park
. There I met with Glen Jones of the Heritage Trail Partners.
Glen had contacted me some time ago and arranged for us to meet with John C. Scott, Superintendent of the park, for a personal guided tour. I was delighted to discover when I arrived that I was greeted not only by Glen and John, but several other members of Heritage Trail Partners — including the Mayor of Pea Ridge
, Jackie Crabtree. (What a treat!) There was also a journalist from the local Pea Ridge newspaper, the Times of Northeast Benton County
. Mayor Crabtree generously presented a wonderful book on the history of Pea Ridge, and what a history there is! After chatting with the mayor about his town, we were off for our tour.
The park is truly spectacular and pristine. Whether you are a Civil War enthusiast, are interested in the Butterfield or the Trail of Tears
, or just simply love nature, this park is for everyone.
Unfortunately, not everyone gets the privilege of touring the grounds with John as their guide and Glen as his " Confederate" foil. At one point John was telling me about a particular moment in the battle when the Confederates were forced to retreat: Glen playfully reminded him that this was actually a "180 degree tactical advance." They make a great team.
I love the story of their first meeting. John hadn't been superintendent long when a tall "intimidating man" (his words — Glen is actually one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet) showed up at the park and asked, "Superintendent, why aren't you flying the Confederate flag here at the park headquarters?"
The new superintendent replied, "Because they lost." They've been great friends every since.
I left Sedalia, Missouri
this morning (Sept. 17, a little behind schedule), en route to Warsaw and Cassville, Missouri. We made a brief stop at the Starbucks on Highway 50
and were served up coffee and pastries by a friendly and interested crew led by Dena. I don't know if Dena is actually the crew leader, but whoever the leader is, let me say — what a friendly crew you lead! Thanks guys! (I hope the picture turns out, Dena, and that you're following along.)
From Sedalia it was a quick ride down Highway 65 to Warsaw
, a great small town on the Osage River
. I discovered much to my embarrassment (and too late to change it in the videos) that it's pronounced "oh-SAGE" with a long 'a' — not "oh-SAZH" like it's French or something.
My humble apologies to Warsaw and to the great State of Missouri!
Warsaw, Missouri
is very proud of its heritage, and particularly proud of its connection to the Butterfield Overland Mail Route. There are no less than three markers on the grounds of the County Courthouse that mention this connection. Although Waterman Ormsby
wrote of crossing the Osage in Warsaw, at a ford in the river, Lewis Bledsoe's ferry
had been there since 1831.
After some filming, I had a few minutes to walk around the town. I stopped by the Warsaw Antique Mall (which I highly recommend if you ever find yourself in Warsaw), where I purchased a gold Butterfield Overland ornament with a date of 2006 inscribed on it. Not exactly an antique but it was just the kind of thing I was looking for.
I waited for Juan outside the RV for a few minutes. I began to wonder if he'd fallen in the Osage, when I discovered him enjoying a Hibiscus Jamaica and a salad at the Common Ground Tavern. What a cool place this is! The building is fully restored, and the attendant believes it was a "safe house"; for escaping slaves
prior to the Civil War.
Pressed for time, as always, I took my salad and Jamaica to go. They were great, by the way, another "must-stop" in Warsaw.
We were soon on the winding road that headed south to Cassville
. The landscape is much the same as in Ormsby's day, aside from the houses and little towns, with rolling hills, green prairies, farms and cattle.
A stop for refueling led us to Teresa and Lucy, who work at the Cargo Bay Market
. What friendly ladies these were! They were genuinely interested in our journey, and Eddie and Charlie in particular. (Who can blame them?) I hope they are following us along, and if so, hello and thanks again!
After another couple hours of some roadside filming, we finally arrived at our campsite where we met John and Jenny, owners of the Oak Hill Court and RV Park
. What a great couple they are! I love KOA and all their hosts are very polite, but John and Jenny really care that you’re staying with them, and treat you like family. It's is a relief to a weary traveler to meet folks like them. Come on! Jenny actually called me when we were running 45 minutes behind schedule to make sure we were safe! They even met us at the front and led us to our site and provided us with a hanging light to make sure we could connect in the dark. Now that's a WOW experience!
After chatting with our hosts for a few minutes and hooking up the RV, I sat down to relax a moment and collect my thoughts about the trip so far. One thing I notice is the increased enthusiasm that is building, not only in myself but in the people I encounter. From Dena to Teresa, and Lucy to John and Jenny, to the school kids I'm meeting, to the folks posting comments at this blog, people seem to be really engaged in our journey. I must say I'm pleasantly surprised and gratified that all the hard work leading up to this trip — and the trials since! — have been worth it. The Overland Mail Co. story is often-overlooked, yet it's a monumental event in American history.
The sheer excitement our trip has created calls to mind one of my favorite Ormsby quotes, which he wrote while traveling on the very same leg of the journey I'm on now:
There seems to be a catching enthusiasm about the whole trip, which excited more interest — I know for myself — than I ever supposed could be mustered out of the bare fact of a common coach traveling over a common road, with a common mail bag and a few common people inside.
P.S. To Ms. Decker's class: The mail is safe and sound and is about to meet up with mail from Lowell Elementary School in Arkansas
in Arkansas, en route to its final destination — California!
After a stormy night at the Park Hills Motel and RV Park
, I continue my journey. (Sorry, again, Mr. Manager, for waking you up at 12:00 am!) Juan and I feel more confident in our ability to deal with the unexpected.
With Ike several hours behind us, we made great progress through Missouri (after a quick stop for more fans to help dry out our carpeting). I am very anxious to get to our final destination for the day, Springfield, Illinois
. Of all our destinations, this was the one I am most excited to get to. Springfield, Illinois, as most of you know, is the "Home of Lincoln" and the Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum
. President Lincoln is one of my personal heroes.
We arrived in Springfield late in the afternoon and had to be guided into the KOA/Springfield
via cell phone by a very nice lady named Linda. Springfield just had its own close-up with Hurricane Ike
, and the main road into the campground was flooded. So we wound our way through corn fields and farms until we reached our site. Thankfully, there was a laundry room so we could wash and dry the pile of wet towels we had accumulated trying to stop the deluge from the previous night.
Monday morning, we were off to the Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum. We were greeted by the Executive Director, Rick Beard, who was very gracious in offering us a tour of the museum vault where thousands of Lincoln related items are stored. Unfortunately, we only had about an hour to see and do everything the museum had to offer, so we never made it to the vault. You see, we had to be back in St. Louis by 2:00pm to meet with a class of 5th graders. So I made a mad dash through the museum trying to take in everything I could. And there was so much!
The museum is a state-of-the-art experience thanks to BRC Imagination Arts
. Every exhibit has something for the eyes and ears. You start your journey in Lincoln's boyhood cabin
and wind your way through scene after scene — Lincoln grows to adulthood right before your eyes. Next, Lincoln is elected President and you follow him through his White House years
, the Civil War and eventually his tragic murder.
As I rounded the corner that leads to the scene of Lincoln lying in state, I became unexpectedly emotional. The exhibits are that powerful.
In addition to the exhibits, we had just enough time to watch two film presentations: "The Eyes of Lincoln" and "Ghosts of the Library."
Both are exceptional and full of surprises, from moving chairs to hologram technology — not to mention the content, which is educational and fun. (What a great combo!)
If you ever get a chance to go to the Lincoln Library, whether you're a fan of Lincoln or not, this is an experience everyone should have.
When I said farewell to Mr. Beard and the Lincoln Museum, I was sad to leave because there was so much more to see in Springfield.
But we set out for our next stop — one that was equally rewarding! In St. Louis, we had the pleasure of meeting with Ms. Decker's 5th grade class at Kennard Classical Junior Academy
. What a great group of kids! They were all very smart and asked some really great questions. After my history presentation, the students all wrote letters to a 4th grade class at Mary E. Silveira School
in San Rafael, California (near San Francisco). We collected the letters, and the whole class came down to see the RV and meet Eddie and Charlie.
(Mrs. Decker's class! I know you are reading this, so I want to thank you again for letting me visit your class and talk with you about the Butterfield Overland Mail
and Wells Fargo. It was great! And just so you know, the letters are safe and sound, and on their way to California!)
After a full day we were STARVED! We headed to downtown St. Louis for some BBQ and to our next campsite, KOA in Granite City, Illinois
, just across the Mississippi River
.
Tuesday, the official trip begins, and we're really excited to get started. After traveling for hours and hours and miles and miles every day, it will be nice to go only a few miles each day. And we'll finally get to stop and take in some of the interesting sites along the way.
So stay tuned!
Well, after months of planning we are finally on the road! We started from LA on Friday, on our way to St. Louis to begin following the inaugural run of the Butterfield Overland Mail Co. stagecoach route.
Day 1: Things haven't gone exactly stellar so far. First, when we arrived at the RV rental site the RV was nowhere to be found. The reason? Turns out it wouldn't start this morning, or yesterday for that matter. Normally this would not be a big deal — we could have just asked for another RV. However, our RV was wrapped in a vinyl graphic.
That's it. It was this one or nothing.
So, we waited. A little over an hour later, there it was! In all its red and yellow glory! It was a beauty from the outside, and the inside appeared clean, although a little smaller than I had expected.
We loaded everything up and were off. "We" is Juan, Curator of the Los Angeles museum and my cohort for this leg of the journey; Eddie, my youngest Boston Terrier in his lap; and Charlie, the oldest dog, doing what he does best — sleep. Then there's me, wobbling around as I struggle to put everything in its place.
As I worked, I stepped on wet carpet outside the bathroom. Ugh, not good! The RV rental company assured me that someone must have spilled something while it was being prepared — nothing to worry about. I soon learned that there was much to worry about. But I soaked it all up as best I could.
We traveled seven hours and stopped at the Riverside RV Park
in Laughlin, Nevada. The hustle and bustle and bright lights of the casinos just below us was actually a beautiful sight to see. But after a long day, the lumpy bed in the back of the RV was not so bad looking itself.
Day 2: It was a great morning in Laughlin! After a walk with Eddie and Charlie ("the boys"), we were on the road again. We rendezvoused with Connie, Curator of the Phoenix museum and my traveling partner next week, in Flagstaff, Arizona, so she could loan us some camping supplies. Connie and her husband Bill own their own RV and have all the essentials.
Lucky for us, Bill is also quite handy around an RV and helped us fix some problems we encountered: a non-cooling fridge (bad!) and a generator that wouldn't turn on. He also showed us how to dump waste water, a task I'm not exactly looking forward to.
After some lunch, we were off with Juan at the helm. (He's a power driver!) The landscape on the way to Albuquerque, New Mexico is beautiful. We passed through the Painted Desert
and through magnificent red rock cliffs. A storm to the south created the oddest rainbow, which swelled and then grew thin and appeared to shoot straight down from the clouds. No arch — just a wall of color from desert to cloud. Part of our journey also took us through the Navajo reservation.
Albuquerque
— what a sight! — a sprawling metropolis with yellow lights twinkling ahead as we descended into the valley that is the city. It was much bigger than I ever imagined. Soon we came upon the KOA/Central Albuquerque
, our home for the night.
We knew it was the right spot when we turned onto "Juan Road." And what was on the corner? A Wells Fargo store!
Day 3: After our first cooked meal in the RV (bacon and eggs), we were on the road again. The next drive was a short ride (yes, I said short!) through Texas. (We were only going through a slice of Amarillo
.) Once again, we were greeted in Oklahoma by a magnificent rainbow — we had made great progress to that point, so the rainbow seemed a sign of good things to come.
Then it began to rain. I put on the windshield wipers, but they were so worn they barely worked. We had to stop for new blades! Next, I tried putting the defrost on and guess what? No heat. No heat whatsoever in the cab. None. Nada. Zip. And the rain was starting to pour. But now, we were on one of those stretches of interstate without a truck stop or gas station. None. Nada. Zip.
We drove mile after mile carefully toward Missouri, and the nearest truck stop, for new wiper blades. And still the rain came down, and still no truck stop. We seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Pulling over would have not been a safe option because there was barely a shoulder to pull onto.
So we drove on, and the rain poured down.
Juan made his way to the back of the RV and slush! Water rushed over his toes with every step. We had a leak—a very bad leak. He worked feverishly to sop up all he could with all the towels we had, until we finally reached a truck stop. We purchased wiper blades and 4 rolls of extra heavy duty shop towels. We drained the last of the fresh water from our tank, thinking this was the source of the leak. In pouring, ice-cold rain, Juan changed the blades while I continued to dry the carpet. After twenty minutes, thinking we had fixed the water issue, we were off again. We had had enough, and were cold and wet.
As Juan drove, I continued to sop the leaky mess, but to no avail. It was getting wetter and wetter. I was frustrated and realized the fresh water tank was not the problem: I opened the storage bin under the fridge and saw, to my horror, what looked like "Old Faithful."
The RV body was cracked in two places over the wheel. The cabin was completely exposed to the passing freeway below, and the tires were shooting water — lots of it! — straight in! From there it flooded the carpet, smack dab in the middle of the living area and kitchen!
"Juan, we gotta stop! We have a major problem!" I yelled.
But again, we were between here and nowhere. We had hoped to make it to Joplin, Missouri, with our new wiper blades and drained water tank, but Joplin was too far away and we had to stop fast. I worked feverishly to control the leak, using my long-ago training in damage control
from Navy boot camp. Juan searched for signs of life ahead.
After a while, there were lights in the distance — a good sign. None too soon, we pulled into an RV spot, hooked up, and began again to sop up water. It was nearly midnight and the rain and wind were picking up again. A quick check of weather.com on my iPhone showed we had met up with a weakened, but no less angry, Hurricane Ike
.
As I lay in that lumpy bed with the rain pounding and the wind rocking the RV, I reflected on everything that had happened that night. Despite the fact our rented RV was clearly a lemon, I decided to try and make the proverbial lemonade. After all, I am recreating a route that was the essence of "roughing it." Newspaper reporter Waterman Ormsby
was the only passenger to go the distance on that first Butterfield trip 150 years ago: He is my guide from the past on this trip.
Ormsby wrote after that tough journey that he came to know what hell was like. I don't know if this night is hell, but if so, I'm not interested!
Casey is in his specially modified RV and ready to leave Missouri on Monday. He's following the route of the first transcontinental stagecoaches of the Butterfield Overland Mail Co. On September 16, 1858, the first coach set out for San Francisco.
On September 16, 2008, Casey sets out to rediscover the experience.
During his re-created trip, Casey, along with his dogs Charlie and Eddie, will stop along the way about as often as the original stagecoaches did. We'll post his written and video blog reports here.
Basically, Wells Fargo is re-tracing its original cross-country stagecoaching route for your enjoyment. In the heyday of staging, over 100 years ago, Wells Fargo had its best people aboard. That's a tradition we maintain right now — with Casey Gill "up" on the RV.
Casey's on the road!
Seven years ago, the attacks on our country changed a lot of things. Whatever had comprised our comfort zone was smashed. And many, many people died. All of us remember the events, and for many of us, confusion also remains.
Today there are many speeches and events of remembrance. Speakers invoke lots of poetic phrases, which is the nature of speeches. The words try to express the vast range of feeling of millions of people. Pretty hard to do, so I'll simply thank everyone, everywhere, who speaks today for me and my millions of neighbors.
What I will express myself is my deep hope that we can all — soon — find a way to coordinate the reality of our existence and all the death. Above all, September 11 is the enormity of so many people who died so quickly.
Since then, our reaction as a world has been more death. Right or wrong, whatever your personal feelings about it, the reaction to death is too often more death.
Monuments and speeches, respectful silence, and thoughts and prayers are what we do so well individually and in groups. Since that morning seven years ago, we've continually worked to come to terms with our world. We may continue for a long time to come. But in this struggle with meaning and all, we have to decide how we can actually survive that day.
This is no call for a vague peace, nor a call for vengeance. I just wish, on this day, that all of us can find our way through this pain that won't go away. That we who survive can somehow make our one life together truly honor the many thousands who have died.
Something interesting happened the other day that I want to share. I was standing on the front porch of the museum last Friday in full costume. Being used to people coming up to me while I'm in costume to ask questions or have their picture taken with me, I wasn't surprised when this young German girl approached with a question.
However, her question really got me thinking about something I had known for some time. That is, American pop culture and classic western movies and television in particular have really gone a long way to confuse and misinform the public by creating the myth known as the "wild, wild west." I can't begin (and don't have the time anyway!) to share with you some of the questions I have been asked and some of the things I've heard parents tell their children.
Apparently, this phenomenon is not just American. The young girl asked, "Have you heard of Lucky Luke?" I replied, "Umm, no, can't say I have." She was very perplexed by this and said as she walked on, "It's an American cartoon and no American has ever heard of it! I'm from Germany and I've heard of it. He saved Wells Fargo!"
Well, obviously I was intrigued and immediately did what any normal American would do — I Googled him. Turns out, according to Wikipedia
, Mr. Luke is not an American cartoon, but in fact a Franco-Belgian comic series by an artist named Morris. (You can also check him out on YouTube
.)
Lucky Luke is the kind of character Americans have grown to know, love and derive their knowledge of the West from. He is a gun-toting, fast-drawing (faster than his own shadow according to the comic), bad guy-fighting American cowboy (despite never going near a cow, but that's another post!). He mixes with real American characters like Billy the Kid, Calamity Jane and Judge Roy Bean, and participates in historical events like the building of the transcontinental telegraph and the Pony Express.
And oh yeah, he guards Wells Fargo stagecoaches — both "saving Wells Fargo," as the girl proudly noted, and entertaining his audience, all while spreading the myth that is "the wild, wild west" the world over.
This year is the sesquicentennial of the Butterfield Overland Mail Route, the first transcontinental stagecoach line. Casey Gill will follow the trail of the BOMC next month and blog about it here. Behind the scenes, teams of dedicated Historians are working 'round the clock to make this historical event come to life. For you!
Casey's journey across the land is the visible piece in a huge undertaking. Lots of sweat and yes, even some tears are falling on his behalf. Behind the BOMC glitz is the seamy underbelly we call reality.
Glen Myers is a Curator in the Wells Fargo History Museum here in San Francisco The other night, Glen and I were working on some video stuff for the project, when outside the studio window came a loud CRASH. We rushed to see what was up and saw a pile of wreckage that was, only moments before, three automobiles.
"My Car!!" Glen yelped and with a single leap, he was outside. Glen's truck was parked behind another car outside the studio, and the third car of destiny came round the corner at high speed. That driver lost control and plowed into Glen's truck, which macked into the one in front.
No one was injured, and the driver of the offending vehicle was led away in a stupor and taken to the hoosegow
.
The police and emergency workers on scene were brilliant, and darn efficient. After 3 hours of police work, insurance reports and tow trucks — there was even another crime across the street that needed the police! — our night's work was through. Glen has everything worked out and we'll get back in the studio on Sunday to finish the gig. But behind the glamor of Casey's trip 'cross country, there are many stories of bravery and perseverence that might never be known. Except for this blog, which brings you the real McCoy
.
Glen's is one such story. The scars we bear are a testament to the level of committment we have to following the Butterfield Overland Mail Route. To bring it to you — our community. There is no greater sacrifice.
And we think Glen might get a Hybrid
out of it!
Guided By History began two years ago as part of the centennial of the 1906 SF earthquake and fire. We spent a few months blogging about disaster preparedness, because that was the primary mission of the centennial.
Right now, Hurricane Gustav
is kind of finishing its run on New Orleans. The storm continues, though, prompting bad weather
in Louisiana. Residents of the Big Easy are expected to go home Thursday.
By all accounts, everyone took proper action in advance. Everyone is watching to see that everything goes well and that all those people who live on the Gulf Coast come first. After all, that's why we make the big plans we have to make to move thousands of people to safety — because we all have to make sure our neighbors are safe. We look out for them, they look out for us...that's how everyone is looked out for!
OK, it's simplistic, but you get the point.
Oh, and one more thing. Make sure you are prepared with the right kit
at home and at work. That's the most elemental, organic way to begin to recover if your life is turned upside down by disaster.