MuseLetter \’myüz-‘le-tər noun
1: a personal message, inspired by a muse of one's own creation, addressed to a person or organization, in the course of which, the sender becomes absorbed in thought; especially turning something over in the mind meditatively and often inconclusively.
2: a letter from a poet, or one who envisions oneself as such, in which he or she “muses” on that which is perceived to be news, or newsworthy, usually in some ironic or absurd way.
Nov. 2004-2018
Remainder of the site under reconstruction
Quote of the Month
"What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?
The blessings in which you, this day, rejoice, are not enjoyed in common. The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity and independence, bequeathed by your fathers, is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought light and healing to you, has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth of July is
yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn...”
Frederick Douglas
Rochester, Corinthian Hall
July 5, 1852
Word of the Month
in·ter·ro·bang
/inˈterəˌbaNG/
noun
:a punctuation mark designed for use especially at the end of an exclamatory rhetorical question
Origin
American Martin K. Speckter (1915 – February 14, 1988) conceptualized the interrobang in 1962. As the head of an advertising agency, Speckter believed that advertisements would look better if copywriters conveyed surprised rhetorical questions using a single mark.
Used in a sentence
Wasn't that fireworks display something
Independence Day: an Introduction
Independence Day for me, is to holidays, what bacon is to food: a delightful indulgence lacking in any subtlety. Who doesn’t like bacon? Or fireworks? Both containing an ample amount of nitrates. And who doesn’t like a parade, a barbeque, a picnic? John Philip Sousa? And it's a day to try on one’s patriotic hat to see how it fits.
Then there’s all that history to reconsider if one is so inclined. Especially living here in New York, where a trip down to Lower Manhattan on this day, is a reminder of how “We the people” came to be the people. A similar sense of pride I would imagine exists in Boston and Philadelphia, as well. We all started out on the same page. Well, that is, if it wasn't for slavery. Another perspective summed up in this month’s Quote of the Month.
If I Can Make History There, I Can Make It Anywhere...
You start with Washington, who was all over the place in New York. Even in Brooklyn Heights adjacent to where the promenade now stands. It was there that he found himself in a losing battle. Facing total annihilation, he made the desperate decision to evacuate his entire army by ferrying it across the East River to Manhattan Island. 9,000 troop made it; no loss of life. He was on the last boat out, to a place where he would experience many of his finest hours.
The real estate cliché goes, “Washington slept here.” Most of those claims being bogus. But indeed he did sleep in the first presidential mansion during New York City’s two-year reign (1789-90) as the nation’s capital. It was located at the corner of Cherry and Pearl Streets. I am particularly drawn to this historical tidbit, as I would come to be born and raised not far away some 155 years later. Though of course no plaque is affixed to my old tenement building on Madison St. attesting to this.
On the way down to Battery Park at the tip of Manhattan, one might drop by Fraunces Tavern, where in 1783, General Washington bade farewell to his officers of the Continental Army. I wonder how they divvied up the tab? (“Who had the turtle soup?”). All those “Continentals” strewn across the table. And I wonder if there was a political debate over how much to tip?
There's also a museum upstairs containing several artifacts, painted scenes and flags associated with the Revolutionary War days.
Then it’s on to Federal Hall on Wall St. where he was inaugurated in 1789. It’s a worthy reminder, that they chose a presidency as a way to lead the country. It could easily have gone in other directions. And no guarantee of a democracy, a fragile concept, as we now appear to realize.
In the best July 4th of my life in 2015 (August 2015 MuseLetter, A Gig at Federal Hall), I had the honor of participating with three others, in a public reading of the Declaration of Independence at this very site. The taste of words such as these, beats the best hot dog or burger I’ve ever had on this day.
“That these United Colonies are, and of the Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved…”
And someone in the crowd with a heavy New York accent shouted “Yeh!”
After immediately being sworn in, Washington went over to the nearby St. Paul’s Church to pray. A plaque marks the exact pew. This church would one day serve as a round-the-clock relief ministry to rescue and recovery workers in the aftermath of 9/11.
Trinity Church is also in the vicinity. If you can’t see Hamilton, the Broadway show, there’s Hamilton: the Tomb. He’s buried in the churchyard there, with Robert Fulton alongside him. I would bet the latter is totally unknown to recent generations (“What’s a steamboat?”).
Apparently, Washington would take walks to Battery Park, where presumably he might have looked out into the bay at Bedloes Island. Where about 100 years later, the Statue of Liberty would be dedicated.
⁕ ⁕ ⁕
Beyond Washington, other presidents in U.S. history have lived in Manhattan at one time or another. Who knew Teddy Roosevelt’s birthplace was on 28 East 20th Street? I just happened upon it one day. It houses a museum which has been closed since the pandemic hit.
Later, he and the family moved to 6 West 57th St. which is currently engulfed in scaffolding. As he was once Governor of New York, it should have been no surprise that he lived here.
Distant cousin Franklin (and they were distant in every respect), lived at 65th Street on the Upper East Side. There’s a plaque affixed to the building, which makes no mention that he recovered from polio there in 1921-22, or learned of his election as Governor of New York in 1928 while in residence. Two Roosevelts, two New York Governorships, two presidencies.
And as an interesting historical footnote, and unbeknownst to me until about a week ago when I read online that... “in the early morning hours of September 20, 1881, Vice President Chester A. Arthur took the oath of office as the 21st president of the United States in a private ceremony at his New York City home below (123 Lexington Avenue, between 28th and 29th Streets). The assassin’s bullet that wounded President James Garfield finally had claimed his life the day before.”
Uh, the building has undergone a few changes since.
Kalustyan's has been in that location since 1944. A food store that specializes in "herbs, spices and essential oils," Chester would have frowned.
21st President (Republican): 1881-1884
His favorite food was mutton chops. As was his facial hair. And in a non-sequitur of the month... he served one term.
Stepping out of homes now and into a landmark place I've been to many times before (MuseLetter May 2014
McSorley's Old Ale House on a Wet Afternoon). Which I mcsorely missed in my LA years.
Thus concludes the...
Though it was only seven years ago that I learned that Lincoln was invited here by Peter Cooper, at whose college across the street, Cooper Union, Abe had given an important campaign speech back in 1860. And that Ulysses S. Grant drank here too. Though apparently he drank here, there and everywhere. Yet won the Civil War. And became our 18th President (1869-1877).
He's well entombed here in Riverside Park.
Almost. There is one more poignant story to tell, about a man who is usually afforded one line in the history books. If that. It will be told following the quote below, which was excerpted from a speech that is considered to be up there with the best ever given in America.
Just Suppose the Juxtopostion
“Yes, it's Superman ... strange visitor from another planet, who came to Earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men! Superman ... who can change the course of mighty rivers, bend steel in his bare hands, and who, disguised as Clark Kent mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper, fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice, and the American way!”
If only. Seems we've lost our way. We could use some extraterrestrial help at this point.
An Unsung Patriot
There is a line attributed to him as he bravely faced death, that is chilling:
“I only regret that I have but one life to give for my country.”
Except according to many historians, he might not have said it. Or if he did, he might have not originated that sentiment. “It is possible he instead repeated a passage from Joseph Addison's play Cato, which was widely popular at the time and an ideological inspiration to many Whigs.” (George D. Seymour, May 2006, Documentary Life of Nathan Hale)
How beautiful is death, when earn'd by virtue!
Who would not be that youth? What pity is it
That we can die but once to serve our country.
In desperate times, poetry always seems to rear its head.
The man I'm talking about of course is...
The plaque above, which I had only passed a second time a few weeks ago on a walk to the barbershop, is another one of those neat little New York discoveries. Who knew that that had happened here? On what is now known as the Upper East Side? Where people would kill for a parking spot, though not by way of a hanging. And who knew that he was all of 21! As a kid, I associated the name Nathan with a cigar-chomping merchant on Orchard Street who dealt in drapes.
While he may not have said the words he is best known for, a British officer described Nathan Hale’s stoicism at the gallows in his journal entry...
"He behaved with great composure and resolution, saying he thought it the duty of every good Officer, to obey any orders given him by his Commander-in-Chief; and desired the Spectators to be at all times prepared to meet death in whatever shape it might appear."
When you impress a man who is your enemy at war, about to hang you, that's impressive.
With July 4th coming up, but a bottle rocket away, it inspired a looking further into the life of this man, who has been more or less a footnote in history. And not to get on our educational system again, but I doubt that many young people have ever heard of him. Many older people as well. As countries go, we tend to have a rather superficial knowledge of our history. We are never taught it in any depth. Either by design, or the shortage of classroom time.
Nathan Hale was born in Connecticut and graduated from Yale at the age of 18. While there, he and a friend became especially popular with women, when they debated in favor of women’s rights. (Why didn't I think of that?).
Revered in Connecticut (officially designated a state hero in 1985), there was a petition circulating just last year seeking to change the name of the nation’s third oldest college, from Yale to Hale. The idea being to replace a controversial colonial corporate figure for whom the college is named. A man who oversaw slave trading.
Hale had been a teacher and left that profession to join his five brothers in the fight for independence. When Washington, in a crucial battle, needed someone to go on a spy mission behind enemy lines, Hale, a captain in the Continental Army volunteered. The only one to do so. Knowing the risk and its consequences. Sadly, not long after, he was captured and hung. And I can’t help but think someone out there might say: “I like spies who aren’t hung.”
Washington had reportedly said about Hale…"He was more unfortunate than Criminal. An accomplished man and gallant officer." Yeah, thanks George. As my uncle used to say about those sorts of sentiments, ”That and fifteen cents will get you on the subway.” I can’t help wonder how much Hale was briefed for this mission. Doesn’t spying, as in all things, takes some training?
If a movie of all of this were ever to be made, and I think there should (or a Ken Burns documentary?), when it comes to casting, Nathan was described by a fellow soldier as… golden-haired with blue eyes and darker eyebrows, and taller than the average. (Hmm. “Don’t ask, don’t tell”? ) In other words he looked like a young Robert Redford type. And it is this countenance that was put on a stamp in his honor in 1925.
But half of a cent? This has got to be the Rodney Dangerfield of stamps. “No respect. No respect at all.”
More substantial honors have come by way of public statues. Considered by the CIA to be the first American executed for spying for his country, one stands outside their headquarters building in Washington.
The one here above in New York, faces City Hall. Which is now badly positioned as the general public is no longer allowed to walk across the area in front of the Hall. As kids, we could even just walk in and roam around on the ground floor. Move it into City Hall Park, so all can see it full on. I guess you can fight the British, but you can't
fight City Hall.
John Adams’ expressed his sentiments about the day in a lengthy letter to his wife Abigail, in that impeccable penmanship they all seem to have back then. Why he would need to write to his wife, is the first question that comes to mind. Apparently, they were often apart. He immersed in the business of starting a country I would suppose.
Here are some snippets from his discourse. Note the
But the second and more pressing question concerns a rather bizarre notion Adams mentions, of a missed opportunity in “possessing” Canada? Like Putin possessing Crimea?
random capitalizations of words throughout.
Philadelphia July 3d. 1776
Had a Declaration of Independency been made seven Months ago, it would have been attended with many great and glorious Effects . . . We might before this Hour, have formed Alliances with foreign States. We should have mastered Quebec and been in Possession of Canada.
He then goes on to blame Providence and small pox (what no vaccine?) for interfering in the fledgling country’s naked ambitions. Though he is magnanimous in getting over it.
All these Causes however in Conjunction would not have disappointed Us, if it had not been for a Misfortune, which could not be foreseen, and perhaps could not have been prevented, I mean the Prevalence of the small Pox among our Troops .... This fatal Pestilence compleated our Destruction. -- It is a Frown of Providence upon Us, which We ought to lay to heart.
Finally, he gets around to the day itself:
But the Day is past. The Second Day of July 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America.
Adams has a case of premature declaration here, as Congress didn’t approve the actual Declaration of Independence document until July 4th.
I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more.
Devotion to God Almighty? What about separation of church and state? And I would have made the bacon analogy about this “Day of Deliverance.” He might have gotten a chuckle out of his wife Abigail. Though judging from that stern face as depicted in this painting…maybe not.
Noteworthy in her behalf, "she was also famous for her early advocacy of several divisive causes, including women’s rights, female education and the abolition of slavery” (www.history.com) Talk about power couples. The Clintons of their day. And John also liked cigars.
The British were evacuated ("Tax this!"), and the rest is literally history. On that note…
finito
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