Tag: History

MARIAH WATKINS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

One of my wife’s childhood heroes, George Washington Carver, is proof that some of the best mothers never have children of their own. After his own mother’s death as a consequence of being stolen from one slave-owning family and carried off to a plantation, before being bought back – how vile, the entire institution – young George was cared for, first, by the sickly wife of the slaveowner, and third, by an art teacher who directed him on to her own father, a college professor of botany. But most important was Mariah Watkins and her husband, Andrew.

We know very little about this black couple, except for her influence on the boy who emerged from spending a night in their barn. In another circumstance, George might have been shot. Instead, she called out for him to wash up and come inside for breakfast. What’s your name, she asked. Carver’s boy George, came the reply. No, she corrected, from now on you’re George Carver. (The Washington came later.) He lived with them while attending the Lincoln School for Negro Children. She gently instilled a deep religious awareness in him, presenting him with her beautiful, large family Bible, which he used daily for the remainder of his life, and also nurtured a sense of responsibility for the advancement of his own people. Essentially what we know about her comes in the correspondence they continued over the years. (Among the few other bits we know is that she was a midwife who cared for about 500 babies, including the painter Thomas Hart Benton.)

You can also trace the two connections between George and another great agricultural reformer, Norman Borlaug, whose Green Revolution is credited with saving the lives of a billion people.

Indirectly, then, by feeding a single child that first morning, Mariah put into motion events that would feed a billion humans – a miracle overshadowing the multitude Jesus’ disciples fed with those few loaves and fishes on the banks of Galilee.

HOW HUMBLING

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Even though I’ve never asked previous clerks how they experienced sitting at the head of an institution founded in the 1660s, I found it humbling. The mere thought of superintending the construction of our present meetinghouse (1768) is overwhelming, as is the faithfulness that led the congregation through the Revolutionary and Civil wars. To think of the succession of mighty Quakers who came here in traveling ministry reflects the history of the movement itself, beginning with Elizabeth Hooton, who first nurtured George Fox in the emerging faith. Dover Friends sat down to worship originally in homes and barns, then in our first two meetinghouses, and finally in the room we know so well.

Visit historic Plimoth Plantation, and you get a taste of what Dover must have been like – already four years old at the time those enactors portray. It’s probably not that different from what the first Friends encountered just 3½ decades later when they stirred up what would become our Meeting. Just think of the differences in dialects and vocabulary. (Plimouth, to represent a population of slightly more than a hundred people, employs seventeen dialects, moderating them enough to make them understandable to modern visitors; Dover was likely no less divergent.) From all the evidence of smoke-filled houses, bitter winters, mosquito-infested summers, this must have been a rough-and-tumble community where Friends required generations to evolve into the sedate image we often treasure.

There aren’t many places in the United States having organizations with such long histories. We know only a portion of ours. Even so, we’ve been entrusted with this legacy, and to fulfill it and pass it on. How humbling, indeed.

MYSTERY SOLVED?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

While Dover Friends (Quakers) proclaim that we worship in our third meetinghouse, erected in 1768, our history of the previous two structures becomes a bit foggy. Even so, ours is the oldest house of worship in use in the city.

In his authoritative New England Quaker Meetinghouses (Friends United Press, 2001), Silas Weeks mentions that our first house of worship was built about 1680 on Dover Neck, just south of the present St. Thomas Aquinas High School. Correcting an earlier version of the relocation of the structure to Maine, he writes that in 1769 “the 1680 house from Dover Neck was taken apart and re-erected in Eliot at the corner of what are now State and River Roads. There is a bronze plaque marking the site …” (Alas, there goes the tale of its being skidded by oxen across a frozen Piscataqua River. Taken apart and put on a boat now seems more likely.)

Apparently, when our current house was built, we had no need for the smaller structure. I suspect that until our current meetinghouse was available, Dover Friends met for worship in the two smaller structures and gathered together for business sessions.

The disposition of the second house, though, had eluded his investigation. It had stood at what Silas “believed to be the present corner of Locust and Silver Streets,” but there was no indication it had been incorporated in later buildings on the site.

A publication from the Dover Chamber of Commerce, however, may have the answer. Dover’s Heritage Trails, a guide to historic walking tours through the city, notes this at 3-5 Spring Street: “This old dwelling was Dover’s second Quaker Meeting House, built originally at the corner of Silver and Locust Streets and moved to this location in 1728, before Spring Street existed.”

Silas reported “The second was erected in 1712 on land belonging to Ebenezer Varney. The deed, transferred to Friends in 1735, described the site …” in ways that support the Silver and Locust location. My guess is that the structure was moved in 1828, since the Chamber pamphlet mentions that neighboring houses were built in 1810 and 1811.

The building has no doubt changed a lot, inside and out, since it was erected three centuries ago -- including the addition of chimneys. But the shape is right for a Friends meetinghouse.
The building has no doubt changed a lot, inside and out, since it was erected three centuries ago — including the addition of chimneys. But the shape is right for a Friends meetinghouse.

As they say, the plot thickens. And to think, the answer to our search may wind up just a bit more than a block up the street from where we gather.

WATERTOWN AND THE BOSTON MARATHON BOMBING

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

When I awoke this morning, my wife greeted me with the words, “You missed it last night; all hell broke loose.” I thought she was talking about her board meeting or maybe a big fire, but instead she told me that all of Watertown, Massachusetts, and several surrounding towns were locked down. And then she related the news of the Boston Marathon suspects, the subsequent shootings in Cambridge, the carjacking, the mad police chase down Mount Auburn Street, and all of the activity taking place around the Arsenal Mall.

The developments are still unfolding – and likely will continue to do so for days – and I won’t attempt to relate what’s being reported. What is difficult is trying to imagine the challenges of coping with the shutdown of a very active community. One I’ve been coming to know with some affection.

This year, my Thursdays have wound up in Watertown, where the Revels Singers rehearse for two hours each week in St. John United Methodist Church on Mount Auburn Street. The choir, ranging up to 80 voices, many of them very fine, is led by George Emlen in works from the Renaissance to the present spanning many nationalities and languages. Last night, for instance, we tackled Welsh and French-Canadian as well as English, and the musical experience was exhilarating. No, I’d never even dreamed of being part of such an ensemble.

Rather than getting stuck in rush-hour traffic, I try to arrive early enough to have dinner at one of the inexpensive but excellent restaurants a block or two down the street. (Don’t let looks deceive you: follow your nose instead.) Watertown is an older suburb of Boston, one with substantial houses typically on small lots, and has become a haven of many ethnic cultures. The church where we practice, for instance, also houses a Korean Methodist congregation. Buses pass by frequently, and pedestrians fill the sidewalks. In one block I pass the Greek kabob and gyro emporium I’ve come to habituate, an acclaimed Chinese storefront with tables and takeout (yes, some of it goes back with me to New Hampshire), a Japanese fusion eatery, an Iranian bakery, an Hispanic-focused grocery, several hair and nails salons, a cigar store or two. (I’d planned to make a list someday.)

Yesterday I even arrived in time to tour the Armenian Library and Museum of America,  which incidentally had free admission this week as an offering of a quiet public place for the community to heal from the tragedy on Monday. (The irony of the free admission now comes, of course, in the closing of the town itself.) As the center of Armenian culture in the New World, Watertown has much to say about genocide and suffering over the centuries.

I was still reflecting on that experience as I ate, until noticing the repeated images on the large-screen TV on the restaurant wall as it showed footage of the two suspects shortly before Monday’s bombings. A man at one table got up, pointed to something on the screen, and commented on a detail, which prompted discussion from other tables. People were paying attention.

From there it was on to rehearsal. A magnolia and the daffodils in front of the church were in full bloom. Spring was in the air. Even afterward, as we returned to the street, we wanted to linger.

Who could have anticipated the state of siege that would erupt a few hours later?

POINT OF REVOLUTION

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment
A lighthouse has stood at this site along Portsmouth Harbor since 1771, where fortifications were first erected in 1632. The long dark stonework along the water was part of Fort Constitution. Historically, it was the site of Fort William and Mary, the first armed skirmish of the American Revolution.
A lighthouse has stood at this site along Portsmouth Harbor since 1771, where fortifications were first erected in 1632. The long dark stonework along the water was part of Fort Constitution. Historically, it was the site of Fort William and Mary, the first armed skirmish of the American Revolution.

This year’s Patriots’ Day comes next Monday, a holiday in Massachusetts and several other states to commemorate the April 9, 1775, Battles of Lexington and Concord that inaugurated the American Revolutionary War. These days it’s also the occasion of the 117th annual running of the Boston Marathon as well as a late-morning Red Sox game at Fenway.

New Hampshire, on the other hand, traditionally marked the event obliquely, with its own Fast Day the following week, ostensibly originating in 1680 and officially abolished in 1991. We got Fast Day as a holiday free from the office, but the only way we knew when it would fall in a particular year was by paying attention to the Marathon — and we’d get the following Monday off.

While Patriots’ Day marks the historic “Shot Heard Around the World,” the actual first armed skirmish happened months earlier at Fort William and Mary along the Piscataqua River in New Hampshire. On the evening of December 13, 1774, Paul Revere rode north from Boston with reports of the latest British actions, especially in Rhode Island. The news sufficiently angered 400 Sons of Liberty led by John Langdon to march on the fort, one of several protecting the mouth of Portsmouth Harbor, and raid it, carting off 98 barrels of gunpowder, roughly five tons. The next night, a small party headed by John Sullivan carried off 16 pieces of small cannon and military stores.

These supplies were then distributed to hiding spots, including the cellars of Boston churches and at least one New Hampshire home, before being used in the Battle of Bunker Hill on June 17 the next year.

Known as the Powder Major's House because of the gunpowder secreted in its cellar after the attack on Fort William and Mary, the residence of Major John Demeritt in Madbury likely originated around 1723 as the wing now attached to the larger Colonial home.
Known as the Powder Major’s House because of the gunpowder secreted in its cellar after the attack on Fort William and Mary, the residence of Major John Demeritt in Madbury likely originated around 1723 as the wing now attached to the larger Colonial home.

POSITIVE AND NEGATIVE POTLATCH

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Among the coastal tribes of the Pacific Northwest was a custom known as the potlatch. Essentially, it was a way for the wealthiest members to enhance their status by redistributing the wealth downward. Starting with blankets and maybe a festive meal.

But then things got out of control. The way things do at a party when you forget about tomorrow, again.

Still, you first need to know everyone in the village and the fact it’s your home. Yes, the way families and neighbors just might function together.

Even so, remember. Maybe it was all Coyote’s fault, after all.

ON THE PICKET LINE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

As I said at the time, carrying a picket sign, after all those years as a professional journalist, crossed a barrier. We don’t take sides, in public, so what does one do in a labor impasse? I realized this is what my younger stepdaughter, the political activist, called a “viz,” for visibility event, and that we could add more posters to our sticks, to create a “totem pole.” I also recalled a Friend, speaking of driving along and seeing a vigil and then stopping and opening his car trunk for the sign he always carries, just so he’d always be ready to join in anywhere. There was something liberating in this, even if it was an “informational picket” rather than a straight-out strike line.

Now, having retired from the profession, I sense another opening. A return to an earlier calling. My entering journalism, as a public witness and service, is restored to its original prompting of advocacy and reform, before it was confined by corporate media – the very bottom-line organizations right-wing critics overlook when they accuse “liberal media” of, well, reporting both sides. Maybe I’ll become a Quaker agitator, after all. (As the retiree activist, I might say: Thank you, Megan. And Iris. Especially.)

TOO BIG TO WHAT?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

When you invest, even if it’s just for retirement, you’re told to diversify your risks.

Why is it, then, that it seems OK to keep having big corporations merge into less and less competition? During the Bush I and Bush II regimes, we saw what that meant for the banking industry: big bailouts on the taxpayers’ tab.

We were, after all, faced with another Great Depression.

Seems to me it would be far healthier to spread the risks here, too: break out into smaller companies – which would make more of them, too.

Along the way, there would be fewer layers of high management – and think of all the savings in executive pay along the way.

Those who advocate a free market need to remember: any company that’s too big to fail without taking down the rest of the economy is a threat. Period.

THE DISAPPEARING INDIVIDUAL

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Not too long ago, the pharmacist owned the drug store, the corner bank had its own president, the local publisher owned the newspaper, and so on. Each one knew the community, and each one could make independent decisions. Each one also had a desire to be respected by those he or she served. Often, too, it was a family affair.

Now, of course, the pharmacy is headed by a manager who reports to a district supervisor who may report to an assistant vice-president somewhere who reports to a president of a subsidiary who reports to another vice-president of a conglomerate who reports to a president who reports to a CEO who probably has little real decision-making power, thanks to all of the policies that must be followed, thanks to a board of directors beholden to the major stockholders. As if you could name any of these people. Ditto for the bank and the newspaper and what used to be the local department store.

At each level of hierarchy, there’s little room for discretionary action – it’s all a matter of enforcing policy, especially as it relates to maximizing short-term profit.

Important local leaders have been reduced cogs following orders from afar. And the big money follows. Note, too, that the emphasis is on stockholders, not shareholders, who would include the workers, their communities, and even the faithful customers.

How, then, do we reclaim our full community, and heal the damage? It’s a basic question for democracy, after all, if the American Experiment is to continue, especially with any sense of equality and fairness.

BIAS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 3 Comments

Pejorative labels do nothing to advance public discourse. Rather, they’re intended to stifle it. Even worse, they inhibit clear thinking or positive outcomes.

Consider the charge of “liberal media.” Or even “the media,” especially when used in the singular rather than the plural. In reality, American newspapers, magazines, and commercial broadcast stations have long been corporately owned, with the focus on some very profitable bottom lines. Corporations, as the epitome of capitalism, rarely fit neatly into the liberal end of the political spectrum. And so “corporate media” would be far more accurate than the “liberal media” mirage. A closer look would also find most of the editorial pages are of a conservative slant – and nearly all of the political and economic columnists syndicated in the past quarter century have been openly conservative. I’d like to hear of any liberals. In addition, in my experience, the media are highly competitive – there’s no collusion or conspiracy regarding what we’ll cover or ignore, Fox News excepted. For that matter, the media extend into the entertainment media as well – Hollywood, Nashville, Madison Avenue, and Broadway, among others.

Professional reporters and editors, meanwhile, learn to keep their own political and social views out of the way: the goal is to listen carefully and respectfully to all relevant sides of the issue and to present that as clearly as possible, especially in determining what’s new in the event being covered.

I’ve come to the conclusion that those who accuse news organizations and personnel of bias actually have no interest in objective reporting – what they want is bias, of their own right-wing persuasion or even more blatant propaganda. Ideology, rather than fact. The truth be damned, in their hearts.

Perhaps nothing should be more telling than Spiro Agnew’s rabid attacks on a free press, especially when we consider he had every reason to keep reporters off the track of his own criminal actions – and those of his boss, Richard Nixon, all the more. All the while, we covered his attacks on us verbatim and uncontested – had we been anything like he accused us of being, his words never would have seen the light of day, or blasted by critical comment as he spoke them.

If anything, I think of all the years when I willingly suppressed my own convictions – and the price that’s imposed. At last, finally out of the trade, I can truly speak and write freely.