Saturday, November 29, 2014
Devil's Bargains
11. Devil's Bargains
to going out of my way to glimpse, say, the world's biggest ball of twine. Tourist traps, often against
the better judgments of those who run them, give visitors an essential sense of an area's
ambiance. By paying less attention to what is written on the signs and in the brochures and more to
local and "neonative" input, it's possible to achieve a truer experience.
Hal K. Rothman, in Devil's Bargain, Tourism in the Twentieth-Century American West, is
not concerned whether or not tourists enjoy themselves. His thrust is understanding how innovative
outside investors may destroy the very places they invade, changing the areas and their
residents. Although Rothman explains this
as a western phenomenon, the infusion of big money into backwoods, picturesque
locations has precedents elsewhere and earlier.
Reading about the transformation of Paepcke's Aspen reminded me of David
McCullough's Johnstown Flood
(1968). In 1889, a handful of wealthy
magnets created an artificial lake resort above the town of Johnstown,
Pennsylvania for their private recreation and enjoyment -- and inadvertently
devastated the downstream town and its people when their man-made dam
burst. Although most of Rothman's examples
have less dire physical repercussions, incursions into places like Sun Valley,
the Grand Canyon or Carlsbad Caverns likewise changed perceptions and interrupted
local lives. The wide open spaces and
untouched nature of the West made it possible for the moneyed few to take
unfair advantage.
From my standpoint
as tourist, I particularly enjoyed
Chapter 6, "Interregional Tourism."
As a child in the 1950s, I was aware of the influence of automobiles in
our lives. The family car provided my
first familiarity with the glories of the western terrain. Every year or so our family left Spokane for
an eight-hour road trip west to Seattle (which now takes about half that long). We motored down the two-lane highway in Dad's
'55 Buick into the arid conditions of central Washington, a literal desert
compared to our manicured lawn at home. The
tiny, colorless towns through which we passed held neither interest nor promise
for us. Crossing the Cascade Mountains
with its high peaks, lakes and waterfalls
invariably awed me (still does!).
When we reached lush, green western Washington and the blue Puget Sound,
I felt much farther from home than the 280 miles we had travelled. The ride itself was the adventure. I craved, as Rothman states on
page 150, "difference
. . . new activities, seeing new places and doing
new things . . . travel did not have to mean anything more than an opportunity
to get away."
This past May,
my husband and I toured the Mid-West in our SUV. In Missouri, we located the legendary Route
66, intending to follow it to visit old-time tourist traps. Instead, we discovered only short,
intermittent segments of the road, interrupted by seventy-five years of modern
"improvements" that bisect and obliterate most of 66. It
was one of Rothman's devil's bargains: its very success in opening the West to
auto travel lead to its obsolescence.
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Saturday, November 15, 2014
Was the Comancheria an Empire?
10. Was the
Comancheria an Empire?
November 15, 2014
Pekka Hamalainen's The Comanche Empire (2008) contends that
between 1700 and the early 1800s the Comanches conquered an expansive section
of southwestern America to create the
Comancheria empire that rivaled the imperialistic efforts of Europeans.
The concept of an
all-powerful empire among Native Americans seems unique, something I've not previously
considered. American history seldom
endows minority groups with such superlatives: Hamalainen obviously intends to start
a new discussion about the power and influence of the Comanches. There
is little question that they reinvented themselves to meet the needs of their evolving
world as they moved south across the plains.
They became expert equestrians and bison hunters. They developed
outstanding economic and political skills that interplayed and vied with
Europeans who had a far more extensive history of international machinations. The
Comanches incorporated outsiders into their families and tribe, often through
slavery, to bolster their numbers and strength.
Their warrior spirit and grasp of
conflict, conquest and alliances were par excellence. Eighteenth-century Comanches were a vibrant, dominant,
intimidating, hierarchical, resourceful and violent people. But was their Comancheria an empire, an
example of reverse colonialism?
It is tempting to
permit a sense of presentism when recalling our country's deplorable historical
treatment of Indians. True, most Americans
no longer accept good-cowboys-besting-bad-wild-Indians scenarios as the basis for
relationships between the two cultures.
But neither have we established a firm footing or a meeting of the minds
as to who Indians were (are) or how they fit into the American landscape; the
ongoing debate over the name of Washington's football team pinpoints this quite
succinctly. New cultural approaches
encourage greater open-mindedness in the search for and acknowledgment of
greater agency in Native American cultures.
But has Hamalainen gone too far in an effort to accomplish this? By elevating the Comancheria to the echelon
of empire, he detracts from the reality of an industrious people who redeveloped
their culture, suffered losses and enjoyed successes, and left an imprint on
their times. Raising the Comancheria to
empire status inevitably leads to an overemphasis on their denouement: the Comanche's dramatic fall from grace when Euro-Americans
overran the West, the end of the bison economy, and the crumbling of the
foundations of their indigenous "empire."
Reading The Comanche Empire, I preferred to
focus more on Comanche accomplishments and errors than on Caesarian or
Hitlerian ideologies of grand empire. The haphazard sprawl of the Comancheria across
the Southwest, for instance, did not include definitive, defendable borders of
empire -- nor did the tribe appear to need them. By absorbing people of other cultures to
increase their numbers, the Comanches evolved into an "ethnic melting
pot" rather than retaining distinct Comanche traits (360). They participated in the destruction of their
environment; the environment destroyed them.
They were diplomats and fearsome warriors who "reshape[d] their
economic strategies and social traditions" (348).
The Comanches
were a complex tribal group with a complex history, worthy of Hamalainen's
in-depth study. He centralizes their nation in American history, awarding them
with the recognition they deserve. However,
the description of Comanches as deliberate empire builders, a tribe vastly
superior to other indigenous people, somehow seems aggrandizing and
unnecessary, detracting from Comanche heritage.
Saturday, November 8, 2014
If You Build It, They Will Come
9. If You Build
It, They Will Come
November 8, 2014
Echoing Ray Kinsella's hopes in Field of Dreams, the railroad barons guided an industry based on fantastical, unrealistic visions of land usage. Unlike Kinsella, however, who churned up his cornfield to realize his dream, the many Collis P. Huntingtons, James J. Hills, Tom Scotts and Jay Cookes metaphorically dug their fields under after they built their railroads.
White's scope in Railroaded seems all-encompassing. He
ties virtually every post-1865 American (and Canadian and Mexican) occurrence
-- from political, economic and social to military and philosophical -- to the
effects of railroad-building. The
long-dead, egotistical barons would undoubtedly preen at Whites' assessment of
their ultimate power. At the same time,
they would reinvent his well-documented criticisms of their lives and
activities to their own advantage.
White contends
that "[W]hatever the railroads did -- rob, create, organize -- they
supposedly did ruthlessly and effectively" because "if failure could
be lucrative, then ignorance, incompetence, and disorganization were not incompatible"(233,
232). Given the breadth of railroad
construction after the Civil War, it is impossible to deny the builders' influence
-- often negative -- on the western United States. Yet White suggests that railroad-building was
a ploy, a moneymaking byproduct for the garnering of untold wealth for mediocre,
reckless entrepreneurs. This infers that
if, for instance, the planting of wheat or the skinning of buffalo had had the
same lure of maximum financial success, the barons would just as eagerly have
embraced those instead.
This supposition
gives rise to "what if's." What if other enterprises had swayed the railroaders away from the
indiscriminate building of thousands of miles of needless railways too soon? Would the West still have been
"won" without them? Pioneers
had been traveling the Santa Fe and Oregon Trails since the early 1800s,
settling western lands years before the advent of the railroads. The Union Pacific, Southern Pacific, Great
Northern et.al. surely made the trip more convenient and expansive, but would
not such dedicated trailblazers have continued on their own, at a more manageable pace for region building?
Would their homesteading choices have
been any more or any less astute and well-placed than those of the railroad
tycoons? Harkening back to their western spirit of individualism, upon which
historians from Frederick Jackson Turner to Susan Lee Johnson to White himself
comment, is it possible that White bestows the railroad magnets with excessive
and undue credit/discredit for opening the West?
The
intricacies of the financial dealings and economic machinations in Railroaded were sticky to follow, despite
White's eloquent explanations. However,
his cast of antagonistic leading characters leaves little doubt that, regardless
of their assertions of patriotism and the national interest, the railroad
barons' definitive goal was to line their own pockets.
I
admit that by page 534, Railroaded left
me feeling a bit dejected. I will never
look at railroad tracks quite as I did before.
They were not fields of dreams.
Saturday, November 1, 2014
Montana Memory Project: Big Timber Pioneer Newspapers, 1899 and 1916
8. Montana
Memory Project:
Big Timber
Pioneer Newspapers, 1899 and 1916
Early newspapers
are a historian's delight, providing provocative tastes of local life. Montana's weekly Big Timber Pioneer, reprised in the Montana Memory Project, does
not disappoint. The front pages for January
12, 1899 and January 6, 1916 are snapshots in time, reflecting changes that
occurred there during that seventeen-year period.
Big Timber is the
county seat for Sweet Grass in south central Montana. It remains a small town today, according to
its Chamber of Commerce (http://www.bigtimber.com/), with a population of 1,641.
The headline for
January 12, 1899 (http://mtmemory. org/cdm/
compoundobject/ collection/p16013coll7/id/74195/rec/7) reads "Delinquent
Tax List for 1898." The half-page
article names and threatens non-tax-payers: "If not paid, [your property
will be] sold at public auction."
About one-third of the front page is devoted to ads: Cottage Hotel rates are $1.25/day, Perrine's cuts hair for thirty-five cents,
Sam Lee Laundry does "all kinds of laundry quickly and neat (sic) done," and H.O. Kellogg's
clothing store advertises Christmas specials (three weeks too late). The remainder of the front page contains
"The State's Latest News."
Montana shipped out 384 railway boxes of sheep in 1898. The Smith Brothers own the oldest sheep ranch
(1872) in Montana: in 1898, 33,000
grazing acres for 48,000 sheep valued at $32,000. No national or international news features
appear. Big Timber still considered
itself a pioneer town in a pioneer county: organized, somewhat isolated and self-sufficient.
The Big Timber Pioneer front page of January
6, 1916 (http://mtmemory.org/cdm/ compoundobject/collection/p16013coll7/id/71654/rec/12)
is more sophisticated in its presentation and includes a broader range of
news. There are no advertisements here;
about half the page is devoted to local and regional news, the rest to
national, with one international article. The headline reads "Annual Masquerade Breaks
Big Records." Hundreds of guests
met in the lodge of the Modern Woodsmen of America, a fraternal benefits
society, to dance and to enter a costume contest. Prizes ranged from $5 cash to a fifty-pound
bag of Gold Medal Flour; winners' names and costumes are listed. The second most important article announces
the opening of Ellison Brothers' Parking Garage "to serve residents and
tourists," featuring steam heat and
a ladies' rest room. Besides clips
from Bozeman and Livingston, a national news item declares "Montana Leads
in Wool Production," having generated 29, 000,000 pounds of wool in 1915,
over 10% of the national total. A small
blurb entitled "Another Ocean Liner Sunk by Torpedo" states the Persia sank in the Mediterranean with 300
people lost. It provides no further
details; the editors apparently assumed readers read related articles and thus
this sufficed. Although this issue is more
inclusive than its 1899 predecessor, Big Timber readers still consider local
occurrences more interesting and timely than outside news.
These Big Timber Pioneer front pages indicate town
and county growth. The 1916 page
stresses modernization and culture; news extends beyond county borders, though
local items -- even less pressing ones -- remain prominent. Both issues display population diversity for
women and ethnicities. They emphasize local
growth industries and financial stability:
information about the area's ranching, sheep-raising, forestry and town
development lead all other articles. Like
most small town newspapers, the Pioneer
retains its parochial approach. Hometown
news trumps the East Coast and Europe.
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