For forty years, William Robison was the Express Messenger who carried Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Express between Stockton, California   and the Sierra Nevada gold mines . He was active in community affairs and worked forcefully to protect the civil rights of African Americans in California. What distinguishes Robison's accomplishments is the fact that he was active in an era when African Americans faced the hardest attitudes against them: the era of slavery and Jim Crow , 1850-1899.

Born into slavery in Virginia, Robison gained his freedom in 1836 after serving with the U.S. Army in the "Seminole War ." Robison came to California during the Mexican War  and settled in Stockton in 1850. Following a stint at mining (like just about everyone in those years!), he worked for Page, Bacon & Co. , California's largest bank. Robison then hired on with Adams & Co.'s  express business. His route was from Stockton to the mines, carrying mail and newspapers to be first with the news. Adams & Co. crashed in the financial panic of 1855 and Wells Fargo happily hired Robison. He worked for Wells Fargo for another forty years.

Robison actively fought for civil rights. He was a delegate to the State Convention of Colored Citizens in 1856 , which circulated petitions to allow non-Whites to testify in court cases. In the early 1870s, Robison worked to integrate Stockton's schools.

In pre-Civil War years, California was a Free State  and Robison was not quiet about reminding people of that fact. Robison took action as well: According to Stockton historian Virginia L. Struhsaker, Robison was one of an armed band that liberated slaves held illegally in San Joaquin County. An African American man took a huge risk by participating in such an act because negative attitudes were everywhere, even in Free States.

In 1861, for instance, a business agent along Robison's Messenger route protested the employment of a black wagon driver. George Tighlman, Wells Fargo's cashier in the Stockton office, sarcastically replied, "we are obliged to you for your advice...We get along very well with ours; have never had any trouble."

Robison was a respected man in his community. Even the pro-slavery San Joaquin Republican  praised him as "a worthy and noticeable man," noted for "his remarkable kindnesses." Robison was a member of the Stockton Pioneer Society, one of many such organizations formed in that era by "Forty-niners"  and other early-comers to the Golden State. At his death in 1899, other Pioneers wrote of Robison's trustworthiness and the positions of responsibility he held.

In sum: Robison had a military career and claimed his freedom, stayed in one job for decades, was active in civic affairs, joined community organizations, risked his life for justice — and leaves a primary legend as being a great guy. Robison is THE model of citizenship. It's an honor to work with him.

Posted by Charles at 12:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Found in African American History, At Work, Gold, Misc, Perspective, Protests, Remember, Transportation, Wells Fargo Bank

The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  was born on January 15, 1929. A national holiday   to honor his memory and accomplishments happens every year near this date. It's this weekend.

I'm an admirer of Dr. King . I remember hearing him on the evening news and the palpable change in consciousness he brought about. Before King, you see, Civil Rights for African Americans  were hard to get, and small gains were so often reversed. Americans were either oblivious or opposed to justice for Blacks. After King began  his work, though, people were suddenly aware of African Americans' struggles, and many who were oblivious became sympathetic.

I remember his murder in 1968, too. School was cancelled, and our neighborhood was absolutely silent. Most people were watching TV, but even birds and dogs were quiet that day. I was a little kid, but I felt the enormity of it. More than war, or Nixon, music, or any other factors that shaped that era, those last couple years of Dr. King's life affected me and the person I have become.

It's those words. And that voice.

King was a magical speaker . Certain arias in opera bring tears to my eyes — some sort of reaction to the emotion in music, I guess. (No wisecracks!) It doesn't happen with any other music. Whenever I listen to Dr. King's speeches, the same darn thing happens — I get all misty and sniffly. I can't watch documentaries on Dr. King or the Movement without becoming a wreck I credit the power of conviction in King's words, as well as the royalty of his voice. He's truly larger than life.

So I was picking through some old LPs in a 2nd hand store last year, and came upon this record. It is the speech Dr. King gave in Detroit in June, 1963 , as he moved toward the historic rally at the Lincoln Memorial   that summer. The speech  he delivered was the first time he used the "I Have a Dream" piece — perhaps the greatest speech of the century.

The record, by the way, was captured and distributed by Gordy Records, a division of Barry Gordy's Motown  label. Gordy Records was the label Motown developed for spoken word albums , a standard genre of the time. "The Great March To Freedom: Rev. Martin Luther King Speaks" was the inaugural disc from Gordy.

So there you have it — my personal MLK Day. It means a lot to me because he means a lot to me. Also, Guided By History will blog about Black History Month  most of February.

Let this be the first post that celebrates Black History! 

Posted by Charles at 11:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)
Found in Artifacts, Assassinations, Events, First-hand Accounts, Holidays, Misc, Music, Opera, Perspective, Protests, Remember, Wells Fargo Bank

I have been watching Ken Burns' The War  on PBS this past week. As a History guy, wars aren't my favorite topic (I'm more the Eyes on the Prize  type). But Burns has made some monumental pieces about stuff I like – baseball, Jazz and the West. I've seen none of them.

Frankly, it's an issue of time. Watching a two-parter is easier to arrange than seven parts of two hours over a week and a half. Invariably, I miss the first, half of the third and then the entire last night, only to struggle to see the repeats on Saturday afternoons. I end up on my bicycle instead, or distracted by college football (anyone see the Cal-Oregon  game? That was monumental!). Plus, after the success of The Civil War years ago, all documentaries since have been Burnsian – pans across photos, celebrities reading letters in character voice, slow fades with sad piano that jump to happy photos and barn dance music. It's a little hard to salute the guy who perfected that form when it's the only history you see – good, bad or History Channel .

My impression so far is that Burns' greatest strength is the ability to demonstrate the human experience in all his films. Burns stresses that wars may be necessary, but they're never "good." He records the events, then lets human beings and their feelings provide the last analysis: letters, a chuckle, the wry comment. It's quite effective because it's real. And no matter how zippy Americans were on the home front, or how stoic soldiers acted despite the grim purpose of their job, the reality of wholesale, anonymous death is the final message.

That's the only message, really. Courage, heartbreak, national identity and prosperity all proceed from muddy roads littered with dead bodies.

As I watch, I wonder what motivations may be at work, pro- or anti-war. I think Burns is above that, presenting watchable history that helps us decide for ourselves. But there is something at work, a generational thing  that is, in my estimation, as historical as the events in The War. As Baby Boomers  near retirement age, there is an appeal to reach out to their parents, the same people who experienced the Second World War firsthand.

Baby Boomers were the American dividend after the War. Thousands of GIs returned home expecting payoff for their sacrifices and got it – marriage, family, the GI Bill and a world-driving economy. For 15 years or so after the war, couples with suburban tastes churned out millions of babies who were reared on Ricky Nelson and weaned on the Beatles. They rejected their parents' world in the '60s by pretending to uncover a new consciousness, only to become conservative Republicans in the '80s with a 20-year consumerist mania that made the '50s look positively quaint. Feeling a certain guilt for unparalled social destruction for its own sake, Boomers pine to celebrate their parents' successes.

As Steven M. Levine wrote , many Boomers "have the feeling that back in the Sixties they went a bit too far. Sometimes they even put the Idea of America into question, asking not when America would live up to its ideals but whether America could live up to those ideals." Levine continues:

Dissent meant making America live up to its vision of itself, it did not mean questioning whether America could actually do it and still be another ordinary nation-state. The Sixties mostly did not ask this question either, but it was posed. In posing it, one transgressed the so-called 'rituals of consensus,' as Scavan Bercovitch calls them, which tied together the Idea or Symbol of America. Not only did Boomers transgress these rituals, but they also transgressed them while having a good time. Of course, there were many, many serious young men and women...but there were many other young men and women who mouthed the slogans.... One has the feeling that the Boomers, now looking at themselves retrospectively, don't think this really stood up compared with the trials of their parents, the so-called Greatest Generation (another Boomer obsession).

William Strauss and Neil Howe  have written interesting books on this generational thesis of history (and as Boomers, have also built a thriving business around it). Their first, Generations, is very detailed, well-written, and easy to recommend. If this generational thesis is off the mark, and it's just good ideas entertained on a blog, Burns has done well enough making me think about history and about events that shape my world.

If this thesis is correct, then Burns' film continues a chronicle of Boomer apology.

Posted by Charles at 04:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)
Found in Baseball, Experts, Films, Misc, Movies, Perspective, Protests, Remember, Wells Fargo Bank

On May 21, 1979 , San Franciscans marched to City Hall to protest the conviction of former Supervisor Dan White. White was found guilty of manslaughter for the assassinations of Mayor George Moscone and Supervisor Harvey Milk  the previous November. White's defense had successfully argued "diminished capacity": White's crimes were not premeditated, but the result of stress exacerbated by junk food.

Marchers protested the verdict because they felt it did not fit the crime—the assassinations of Moscone and Milk shocked the city and resonated across the nation. The sentiment was strong that the lighter sentence reflected anti-gay and anti-progressive prejudice. Milk  had been the first openly gay city official, and Moscone  had built his political career advocating for minorities and the poor. Moscone strongly supported gay rights.

Progressives had recently won close political races in San Francisco, and the tension between them and opponents was high. Dan White had been a conservative supervisor and had lost a political decision. He resented progressives' rise as his own career failed, and he blamed Moscone, Milk and others. He gunned down Moscone and Milk on Nov. 27, 1978.

Reaching City Hall , many protesters kept it peaceful, chanting, "Remember Harvey Milk!" and "We want Justice!" But some gave free rein to their anger and started wrecking fixtures and breaking glass. They set police cars ablaze. While radicals went wild, the crowd demanded "No more violence!"—but the melee got worse. Police arrived and got control after some time.

The '70s have a rap as being a decade of self-indulgence, of a lackluster political consciousness compared with the crazy '60s. But the "White Night" riots demonstrate that a movement for civil rights  was fully underway, full of energy and with a quick activist response. Politics was still hotly contested between old power and new power. And the death toll of leaders, which had marked the 1960s in Dallas , Memphis  and Los Angeles , was still a specter in public life.

Posted by Charles at 03:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)
Found in Assassinations, Dan White, George Moscone, Harvey Milk, Perspective, Protests, Remember, San Francisco, Wells Fargo Bank, White Night Riots