Archive for the ‘Primary Sources in the Classroom’ Category

Teaching Early American Literature at Lenoir-Rhyne University

Monday, January 30th, 2012

Dr. Julie Voss

Recent discussion on EARAM-L, the listserv of the Society of Early Americanists, centered on the shortcomings of anthologies for teaching early American literature to undergraduates. Julie R. Voss, assistant professor of English and coordinator of the American Studies Program at Lenoir-Rhyne University, wrote:

I teach at a small school with no rare books collections; however, we do have access to the online Early American Imprints collection. This semester, my students in Colonial American Literature are working with primary texts from this archive, after studying several works available in modern editions. (This course is intended to “expose” students to colonial lit, not “cover” the period, so I don’t fly through an anthology.) They seem to be enjoying the experience, and they are learning a great deal about early literature and culture, as well as about research and editing.

Prof. Voss has now written an article about her class’s experience – “Accomplishing Something: Using Early American Imprints to Introduce Students to the Era and to the Field” – for publication in the fall 2012 issue of The Readex Report. To subscribe to this quarterly Readex e-publication, please use this form.

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Finding Fatalism and Overconfidence in a Cruel Port (by Ian Olivo Read)

Wednesday, January 25th, 2012

Finding Fatalism and Overconfidence in a Cruel Port: The Bubonic Plague’s First Appearance in Brazil

By Ian Olivo Read, Assistant Professor of Latin American Studies, Soka University of America

Published by Stanford University Press on January 25, 2012

On October 18, 1899, Brazilian health officials declared that bubonic plague had arrived. Bacteriologists identified the bacteria in samples taken from sick patients in Santos, a port city that had grown rapidly due to Brazil’s coffee boom. For much of history, people reacted to the news of plague with panic, flight and violence. When plague struck Santos, however, the town did not empty of its residents, international ships were not quarantined outside the port, and authorities or militias did not form “rifle cordons” at roads leading out of town. In fact, according to one report, “the news that bubonic plague had broken out in Santos seems to have made an impression everywhere but here. Santistas are, as a rule, of a somewhat skeptic frame of mind and reports about sickness and epidemics do not frighten them unduly.”

Source: Latin American Newspapers, 1805-1922

This was Brazil’s first recorded outbreak of plague, but it was only one of a chain of epidemics that had occurred since 1894 when plague had escaped from its natural reservoirs among rodents in the Himalayas. The Yersinias pestis pathogen spread eastward, facilitated by busy colonial networks and the quickening pace of globalization. For the next 50 years it struck various port cities and coastal areas of nearly every continent. When the third bubonic plague pandemic crossed the Atlantic to reach South America in 1899, its victims suffered no differently than elsewhere. In its first stages, the infected developed painful and swollen lymph glands, fever and aches. As bacteria overwhelmed the immune system, fever turned to shock, organ failure and, for about 50 percent of those who contracted the disease, death. Not only did the third pandemic spread plague among humans throughout the world, it also introduced the Yersinias pestis to other species of rodents on multiple continents, where the bacteria persist today in these relatively new natural reservoirs.

Bubonic plague has long been a fearsome disease, and is described as such in biblical writings. This was its first appearance in a deeply Catholic country, where many more people understood its propagation divinely rather than pathogenically. Yet why did Santos residents react with nonchalance? First, plague in this locality, or any other for that matter, cannot be understood without the larger epidemiological context. By the end of the nineteenth century, Santos had developed an international reputation as a dirty and dangerous place due to its unshakable pestilence. American mariners called Santos the “cemetery to the world.” For John Masefield, the English poet, “it’s a cruel port is Santos, and a hungry land.” Of biggest blame was yellow fever, a virus that had seen very little place in Brazil before 1849, but developed as fierce epidemics with nearly annual appearances in the 1850s, 1870s and 1890s. So many foreign mariners died, in fact, that even when the city built a large new cemetery in 1854, bones had to be dug up and the holes filled with fresh corpses less than every two years. After decades of attempts to eliminate “effluvia,” drain swamps and initiate sweeping public health reforms, many Santistas saw epidemics as an intractable part of their daily life and town character.

The second reason why Santos residents reacted so coolly was that many did not think it would become a serious problem. Literate Brazilians had tracked the disease through newspaper reports from its first Asian outbreaks in 1894 to its movement to the Middle East and Europe in 1899. Early epidemics, such as those in Hong Kong and Bombay, prompted concern because of high death tolls. But these were distant lands, with little connection to South America. Furthermore, few believed it could spread beyond Asia. They were proven wrong, of course, as the disease leapt continents over the next five years. Geographically it broadened in scope, but in virulence it appeared to diminish. Brazilian newspapers reported that after its arrival to Egypt and Portugal bubonic plague did not develop into frightening proportions. These reports also lent confidence to exciting new developments in bacteriology that allowed doctors to identify Yersinias pestis in a microscope. Additionally, the millenniums-old mystery on why swarms of dead rats foretold outbreaks of plague was explained by a communicable germ. In 1895, Alexandre Yersin at the Pasteur Institute in France developed the first anti-plague serum, but Brazilian newspapers of the day spent more time discussing how local health authorities could acquire or manufacture the serum than how trials of Yersin’s serum in Canton and Bombay had largely failed.

In sum, it was a combination of fatalism among some, and overconfidence in medicine’s ability to limit the epidemic’s effects among others that allowed the town to largely escape panic when a new deadly disease knocked on its backdoor. Nonchalance was not shared nationally, nor did it diminish a serious public health reaction. Soon after, federal and state governments created institutions that eventually acquired world renown, such as the Butantan and Oswaldo Cruz Institutes. These organizations helped fight plague, which took root and slowly persisted in Brazil, but never became epidemic. Finally, bubonic plague arrived at the end of a five-decade period of unusual epidemiological activity that had profound, yet still unknown, consequences on the country’s society and economy.

In the detailed account of the outbreak of plague in Santos, or the larger story of the changing epidemiological environment and its consequences in Brazil, there are new digital history tools at our disposal, including Latin American Newspapers, 1805-1922. In the last decade historians have witnessed a revolution in digitizing and OCR technology. This has allowed millions of pages of old newspapers to be digitized, converted to machine readable text, placed within database programs and made accessible on the Internet. As a result, the proverbial needle in the haystack can be now found by typing “needle” into a search bar. In many respects these tools are still too new to have all their problems solved. Digitized newspaper quality is sometimes subpar, humans still do much better than OCR programs in deciphering low quality text, and the website interfaces that direct searches to information can be cumbersome or slow. Despite these limitations, these new tools give historians much more power in separating the informational wheat from what was previously an overwhelming amount of chaff.

For more information on this research, please visit http://eraofepidemics.squarespace.com/

About the Author

Ian Olivo Read, Ph.D., is Assistant Professor of Latin American Studies at Soka University of America, in southern Orange County, California. Read previously taught at Stanford University, University of Puget Sound and the University of California, Berkeley. He has written on the history of the United Fruit Company, elite networks in Brazil and Mexico, and the health and medical treatment of Brazilian slaves. His new book, The Hierarchies of Slavery in Santos, Brazil, 1822-1888, was published by Stanford University Press on January 25, 2012. Linda Lewin, University of California, Berkeley, says Read’s book “offers the most comprehensive view of a discrete, urban Brazilian slave population yet to be produced and is a very important contribution to the history of slavery, not only in Brazil but also in comparative perspective.” The article above first appeared in the April 2011 issue of The Readex Report.

Sources

Myron J. Echenberg, “Pestis Redux: The Initial Years of the Third Bubonic Plague Pandemic, 1894-1901,” Journal of World History, Vol. 13, No. 2, Fall 2002, 429-449; Myron J. Echenberg, Plague Ports: The Global Urban Impact of Bubon Plague, 1894-1901, New York: New York University Press, 2007; Jornal do Commercio¸ (Rio de Janeiro), 1894-99; O Estado do São Paulo (São Paulo), 1894-99; and Brazilian Review (Rio de Janeiro), 1899.

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Press Release: Announcing Afro-Americana, 1535-1922 — the online edition of the Library Company’s unparalleled collection

Monday, January 16th, 2012

Today we distributed this news release:

Readex to Launch Digital Edition of the Library Company of Philadelphia’s Unparalleled Collection of Afro-Americana

More than 12,000 searchable books, pamphlets, and broadsides will stimulate new research on centuries of African American history, literature, and life 

Source: Library Company of Philadelphia/Afro-Americana Collection

January 16, 2012 (NAPLES, FL) – A digital edition of Afro-Americana, 1535-1922: From the Library Company of Philadelphia will be introduced in late Spring 2012 by Readex, a division of NewsBank. Created from the Library Company’s acclaimed collection—an accumulation that began with Benjamin Franklin and has steadily increased throughout its entire history—this unique new online resource will provide researchers with more than 12,000 wide-ranging printed works about African American history. Critically important subjects covered include the West’s discovery and exploitation of Africa; the rise of slavery in the New World along with the growth and success of abolitionist movements; the development of racial thought and racism; descriptions of African American life—slave and free—throughout the Americas; and slavery and race in fiction and drama. Also featured are printed works of African American individuals and organizations.

“The Library Company’s Afro-Americana Collection is one of the most comprehensive and valuable archives of printed material by and about people of African descent anywhere in the world,” says Professor Richard Newman of the Rochester Institute of Technology. “From early descriptions of African society and culture to the black struggle for justice in the Americas during the 19th century, it remains a touchstone for scholars and students alike. To have it available online and at your fingertips in a searchable format will be a dream come true.”

Source: Library Company of Philadelphia/Afro-Americana Collection

The works in this collection, many of which are quite rare, span nearly 400 years, from the early 16th to the early 20th century. Examples include David Walker’s 1829 Appeal . . . to the Colored Citizens of the World, but in Particular, and Very Expressly to Those of the United States of America, a militant attack on both southern slavery and efforts to colonize free blacks; Lydia Maria Child’s 1833 essay, An Appeal in Favor of That Class of Americans Called Africans; William Still’s The Underground Rail Road: A Record of Facts, Authentic Narratives, Letters, &c., Narrating the Hardships, Hair-breadth Escapes, and Death Struggles of the Slaves in Their Efforts for Freedom (1872); William J. Simmons’ Men of Mark: Eminent, Progressive and Rising (1887); and Booker T. Washington’s The Story of the Negro: The Rise of the Race from Slavery, published in 1909.

Source: Library Company of Philadelphia/Afro-Americana Collection

Also included are such important but lesser-known works as Joseph Sidney, An Oration, Commemorative of the Abolition of the Slave Trade (New York, 1809) and Russell Parrott, An Oration on the Abolition of the Slave Trade . . . First of January, 1814 (Philadelphia, 1814), two works by African American authors celebrating January 1 anniversaries of the end of the slave trade; Grand Bobalition of Slavery! (Boston, 1820), a satire of such celebrations, one example of a long-overlooked genre; Robert B. Lewis, Light and Truth (Portland, Maine, 1836), which champions the central role of black Africans in laying the basis for ancient civilization; William Wells Brown, The Black Man: His Antecedents, His Genius, and His Achievements (an 1865 republication in newly-liberated Savannah of an 1863 collective biography of prominent blacks, many still alive, and most, like the author, former slaves); Martin R. Delany, Principia of Ethnology: The Origins of Race and Color, with an Archeological Compendium of Ethiopian and Egyptian Civilization (Philadelphia, 1879), a work by an African American analyzing the origins of color and race and championing black creativity; Charles Carroll, “The Negro a Beast” or “In the Image of God” (St. Louis, 1900), one of many savage works by whites denying the humanity of blacks; and three works by the preeminent African American sociologist W. E. B. Du Bois: The Atlanta Conferences (Atlanta, 1902); Some Efforts of American Negroes for Their Own Social Betterment (Atlanta, 1898); and A Select Bibliography of the Negro American (Atlanta, 1905).

Source: Library Company of Philadelphia/Afro-Americana Collection

The Library Company’s Afro-Americana Collection began to gain international renown for its size, range, and significance in the late 1960s as scholars, influenced by civil rights activism, initiated fresh studies of slavery’s part in the American story. “As researchers rediscovered the importance of the long-neglected writings of African Americans, they told us that our collection was vital to new scholarship in African American studies,” says Librarian James N. Green. The Library Company mounted the path-breaking exhibition “Negro History, 1553-1903” in 1969, and followed that with the publication in 1973 of the magisterial bibliography Afro-Americana 1553-1906: A Catalog of the Holdings of the Library Company of Philadelphia and the Historical Society of Pennsylvania. Since then, Afro-Americana has been a priority of the Library Company, and the collection has grown with each year. A second edition of the Catalog, including 2,500 works acquired since 1973, was published in 2008, preserving and extending the legacy of this landmark work and now providing the bibliographic control for Readex’s online edition. Afro-Americana, 1535-1922 will be fully integrated into America’s Historical Imprints for seamless searching with Early American Imprints, Series I and II: Evans and Shaw-Shoemaker, 1639-1819 and the recent Supplements from the Library Company of Philadelphia, which have added nearly 2,000 newly discovered items. In addition, Afro-Americana, 1535-1922 will be cross-searchable with all Archive of Americana collections, including African American Newspapers, 1827-1998 and African American Periodicals, 1825-1995.

Source: Library Company of Philadelphia/Afro-Americana Collection

Researchers around the world have praised advance word of the partnership between Readex and the Library Company to digitize this landmark collection. UCLA Emeritus Professor Gary Nash writes, “The benefits to scholarship and teaching that will come when the Library Company’s Afro-Americana Collection is made into a digital database are virtually immeasurable. This will be a major step in infusing American history in general with its vitally important African American component. Teachers at all levels will find this a gold mine.”

And University of Michigan Professor Martha S. Jones says, “Today, early African American studies is a global enterprise that includes researchers throughout the United States as well as Europe, Africa, Asia, the Caribbean and Latin America. This collaboration between the Library Company and Readex will bring new resources into reach and enrich this still expanding field of research and study.”

About the Library Company of Philadelphia

The Library Company is an independent research library specializing in American history and culture from the 17th through the 19th centuries. Founded in 1731 by Benjamin Franklin, the Library Company is America’s first successful lending library and oldest cultural institution. Free and open to the public, the Library Company houses an extensive non-circulating collection of rare books, manuscripts, broadsides, ephemera, prints, photographs, and works of art. The mission of the Library Company is to preserve, interpret, make available, and augment the valuable materials within its care. It serves a diverse constituency throughout Philadelphia and the nation, offering comprehensive reader services, an internationally renowned fellowship program, online catalogs, and regular exhibitions and public programs.

With the creation of the Program in African American History in 2007 (currently directed by Erica Armstrong Dunbar, an associate professor of history at the University of Delaware), the Library Company has expanded fellowships, conferences, exhibitions, publications, public programming, teacher training, and acquisitions to help achieve the full potential represented by its holdings in this area. For more information about this Program, see http://www.librarycompany.org/paah/

About Readex, a division of NewsBank

For more than sixty years, the Readex name has been synonymous with research in historical materials and government documents. Recognized by librarians, students, and scholars for its efforts to transform academic scholarship, Readex offers a wealth of Web-based collections in the humanities and social sciences, including the Archive of Americana, a family of historical collections featuring searchable books, pamphlets, newspapers, and government documents printed in America over three centuries, and the World Newspaper Archive, created in partnership with the Center for Research Libraries. Also available are the Foreign Broadcast Information Service Daily Reports and the Joint Publications Research Service Reports, two of the U.S. government’s fundamental sources of political, historical and scientific open source intelligence during the second half of the 20th century.

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For more information, contact Readex Marketing Director David Loiterstein by calling 1.800.762.8182 or emailing dloiterstein@readex.com.

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The Real War Horses of America

Thursday, January 5th, 2012

Michael Morpurgo’s fictional story “War Horse” has gone from a beloved children’s book to successful stage production to bestselling Hollywood movie directed by Steven Spielberg. But who were the real war horses of America?

American Red Star poster. Credit: www.usmilitariaforum.com

Between 1914 and 1918, the United States sent almost one million horses to the European forces, particularly the British. When America entered the war, another 182,000 horses were taken overseas by the American Expeditionary Forces. Only 200 horses returned to the U.S., and 60,000 were killed outright.1 As the nation’s equine population and trained cavalry mounts became seriously depleted, many wild horses, including American Mustangs, were utilized. Supplying war horses was considered a patriotic act, and Americans were proud of their contribution.

In 1916 the Idaho Daily Statesmen declared about the Mustang: “The little western pony may not be up to cavalry standards, but he is a good little Ford, and will get you there and be up and about the next morning, and if cactus is the only food, he will take it and smile, leaving the regulation Packard waiting for the oats to catch up.”2 The quality of Allied war horses was seen as a key differentiator in the war. As the Duluth News Tribune asserted in 1918: “When the enemy finally begins its big retreat, it is the Allies’ horses that will keep the Germans on the run.”3

Horses were mainly used for transport, not only of solders but also for hauling artillery, ambulances and supply wagons. They were better suited than vehicles to traveling through deep mud and over rough terrain. They were also helpful in raising soldier morale. The bond between soldier and horse was well documented in the newspapers at the time.

In a feature on how farm horses were trained to become war horses, a Kansas City Star reporter wrote in 1917: “A private will tell how some particular horse will follow him about the lot. ‘Somebody’s pet,’ he explains. ‘I’ve taken a fancy to the darn little cuss.”4 

All the men feel that way about horses, explained the Star’s reporter: “A young lieutenant has a pony with a coffee pot brand on him. He calls him ‘Coffee’ and talk to him as if he were a human.”5

News reports of horses’ heroism, loyalty to their soldiers, and grief when they were lost were common. Typical headlines read: “Charger stood beside Dead Master between Firing Lines for Two Days” and “Faithful Horse Returns to Master.” The Kansas City Star published the photograph above in 1916 with the headine “Faithful Horse Awaits Master in Vain.”6

Not surprisingly, individual horses also became heroes during World War I. One example was Kidron, the war horse ridden by General John J. (“Black Jack”) Pershing, leader of the American Expeditionary Forces. A striking dark bay horse with two white hind socks, Kidron captured the imagination of the American people because he was often used by Pershing in victory parades and seen in ceremonial photos. He became a symbol of all that was noble about the war, despite huge losses of equine and human alike. The news of Kidron’s release from quarantine and his safe entry into the United States in 1920 made headlines across the country.

Unfortunately, most horses did not make it back. They were killed by artillery fire, suffered from skin disorders and disease, and were injured by poison gas. An article published in the Aberdeen Daily News in 1915 estimated that twenty days was the war horse’s average existence at the front.7

Moved to action by the plight of war horses, Americans appealed to Secretary of War Newton D. Baker to help equines overseas. On May 22, 1916, Baker asked the American Humane Association to establish a welfare service for horses and mules in the U.S. Army. This organization became the American Red Star Relief, which still exists today as part of the American Humane Association’s emergency services.

After the war, relief societies sprung up across the U.S. to help bring the horses home and to provide care for them after the war. On October 15, 1921, a plaque commissioned by the American Red Star was unveiled in the War Department in memory of the equine suffering during World War I. It reads:

This tablet commemorates the service and sufferings of the 243,135 mules and horses employed by the American Expeditionary Forces overseas during the Great World War, which terminated November 11, 1918, and which resulted in the death of 68,682 of those animals. What they suffered is beyond words to describe. A fitting tribute to their important services has been given by the commander-in-chief of the American Expeditionary Forces, General John J. Pershing, who has written: “The army horses and mules proved of inestimable value in prosecuting the war to a successful conclusion. They were found in all the theaters of preparation and operation doing their silent but faithful work without the faculty for hoping for any reward or compensation.”8

For more remarkable stories in America’s Historical Newspapers, search “war horse,” “war horse relief,” “American Red Star” or “American Red Star Animal Relief.”

Notes

1 International Museum of the Horse (The Horse in Transition: The Horse in World War I, 1914-1918). Retrieved 1-3-2012).

2 “American War Horse,” Idaho Daily Statesman, June 21, 1916, p. 4).

3 “War Horse Gets Full Education,” Duluth News Tribune, (Aug. 30, 1918, p. 2).

4 “When the Plough Horse Changes to a War Horse,” Kansas City Star (Nov. 25, 1917, p. 1).

5 Ibid

6 “Faithful Horse Awaits Master in Vain,” Kansas City Star, (Dec. 28, 1916, p. 4).

7 “War Horses’ Brief Life,” Aberdeen Daily News (Feb. 4, 1915, p. 3).

8 Spielberg’s War Horse: Animal Heroes of the Great War (Part 1).   Accessed  Jan 3, 2012.

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Amundsen, Scott and Their Race to the South Pole

Monday, December 12th, 2011

The Morning Oregonian (Aug. 23, 1908)

It was 100 years ago this month that Roald Amundsen, the Norwegian explorer, reached the South Pole. For the first time, two expeditions were making attempts to get there in the same summer season. Amundsen had been a member of an earlier expedition to Antarctica and had led expeditions in the Arctic. Robert F. Scott had led an earlier British expedition to Antarctica, and he was back to make another attempt to reach the pole. Their expeditions and their leadership styles continue to fascinate us.

Here’s how a new business book excerpted by Fortune Magazine (Oct. 17, 2011), Great by Choice by Jim Collins and Morten T. Hansen, compares them:

Cleveland Plain Dealer (June 2, 1901)

“It’s a near-perfect matched pair. Here we have two expedition leaders—Roald Amundsen, the winner, and Robert Falcon Scott, the loser—of similar ages (39 and 43) and with comparable experience. Amundsen and Scott started their respective journeys for the Pole within days of each other, both facing a roundtrip of more than 1,400 miles into an uncertain and unforgiving environment, where temperatures could easily reach 20° below zero even during the summer, made worse by gale-force winds. And keep in mind, this was 1911. They had no means of modern communication to call back to base camp—no radio, no cellphones, no satellite links—and a rescue would have been highly improbable at the South Pole if they screwed up. One leader led his team to victory and safety. The other led his team to defeat and death.”

Macon Telegraph (July 14, 1903)

Here are some other differences: Amundsen had raised all his money and obtained his ship, the Fram, by saying he was going to the North Pole. Competing claims by two Americans to have reached the North Pole first changed his mind. Scott had publicized his expedition to the South in advance. Amundsen stopped along the way to send a brief telegraph to Scott, telling him that he too was heading south. This was seen as bad sportsmanship by many—it being Scott’s turn on the ice. Scott had been angry when a former subordinate, Ernest Shackleton, had started an expedition from a part of Antarctica that Scott considered “his.” Amundsen was also starting from that region.

Dallas Morning News (Oct. 3, 1910)

Amundsen had no scientists with him. Scott had a party of 38 men, many doing research. Amundsen barely took any photographs of his expedition. Scott had along a professional photographer. Amundsen had a single goal and achieved it. Scott’s group had many goals and succeeded in many of them. He only failed at the biggest one, as viewed at that time.

Yes, Amundsen took the Pole. Scott’s body wouldn’t be found until the following spring. Discovered with his remains were his diary and other final writings, which upon publication would move the English-speaking world. More importantly, found with his body was a fossil Scott had collected on his failed return from the Pole. This ancient specimen demonstrated that Antarctica had been part of a supercontinent, as comparable fossils were found in South America and Africa. Who can call that a failure?

Fort Worth Star-Telegram (May 7, 1911)

Grand Rapids Evening Press (Feb. 2, 1913)

It’s not surprising that students of leadership would try to glean lessons from these two expeditions, for all the reasons Collins and Hansen list. It is also not surprising that the reputations of each have ebbed and flowed over time. Ernest Shackleton, who launched an expedition in 1914 to cross Antarctica, is another explorer whose leadership skills are examined. Shackleton’s boat got trapped in the ice and was eventually crushed. He and the ship’s captain were able to get all the men to Elephant Island in small boats; then, with a smaller crew, sailed to South Georgia Island, landed on the uninhabited side and pioneered a new route across the mountain chain that formed the island’s spine. They were able to rescue all they had left behind.

Ernest Shackleton died at the beginning of a post-war return to Antarctica. He is buried on South Georgia Island. Roald Amundsen was on an airship lost during a rescue attempt in the North Polar region, and his body never found. It was estimated in 2001 that Robert Scott and his companion’s bodies now lie under 75 feet of ice.

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Pearl Harbor: As Reported the Day After

Wednesday, December 7th, 2011

Today is the 70th anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor.  Here’s how four American newspapers reported it the next day on their front pages.  

 

For more information about American Newspaper Archives, or to request a free trial, please contact readexmarketing@readex.com.

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D.B. Cooper: An American Original

Monday, November 21st, 2011

Artist's sketch of D. B. Cooper (Photo: Seattle FBI)

The first aircraft hijackings were political. Leave it to American ingenuity to monetize the action! D.B. Cooper, not his real name, did it in 1971.  

Dan Cooper bought a ticket on Thanksgiving Eve 1971 from Portland to Seattle on Northwest Orient Flight 305. During the brief flight, he passed a note to a stewardess claiming to have a bomb and showed her a briefcase containing eight red cylinders wired to a battery. His instructions were for four parachutes and $200,000 in $20 bills to be delivered to the plane at the Seattle Tacoma Airport and for the plane to be refueled.

This was done. He released the passengers and stewardesses. Flight 305 took off, headed for Mexico via Reno, Nevada. Somewhere along the way, over southern Washington, Cooper parachuted out of the plane. It was dark and rainy and he was jumping into a wilderness area wearing a trench coat and street shoes, carrying the money and his briefcase. He has never been found. Nor has his body.

The Seattle Times, Nov. 25, 1971

A few days later a letter from Cooper or someone else was received by authorities:

The Oregonian, Nov. 30, 1971

In the fall of 1973, a Portland paper offered a $1,000 reward for the first person to bring in a $20 bill with a serial number from the list of twenties the FBI had released. They had filmed all the bills to get this information. The reward was never claimed. None of the bills have circulated since 1971.

Dallas Morning News, Nov. 23, 1973

 Six years later in 1979 a placard from the plane about the operation of the rear stairs was found: 

The Seattle Times, Jan. 17, 1979

And in 1980, some of the money was found along the Columbia River. The rest, which has a 2011 purchasing price equivalence of over $1 million, has never turned up.

This past summer it was reported in The Telegraph of London, UK, that the FBI are now investigating an individual who has been dead for 10 years. He had not previously been under suspicion. They are hoping to find fingerprints to compare to those taken from the cabin of the plane back in 1971. They also have some DNA evidence from a tie clip of Cooper’s which they can compare to the suspect, if they find any of his DNA.  

Here’s the key paragraph from the July 30, 2011 Telegraph story, “The 40-Year Mystery of America’s Greatest Skyjacking.” Ayn Dietrich, described in the article as “a former analyst with the bureau who is now tasked with handling inquiries about the Cooper case,” is speaking to Alex Hannaford, the Telegraph’s reporter:

 “You’re the first to know this, but we do actually have a new suspect we’re looking at. And it comes from a credible lead who came to our attention recently via a law enforcement colleague.” I’m stunned. Dietrich says she can’t tell me much more, but like all the Cooper sleuths I’ve met over the past few days, I too have become a little obsessed with the case. “The credible lead is somebody whose possible connection to the hijacker is strong,” she says. “And the suspect is not a name that’s come up before.” Dietrich says agents have sent an item that belongs to him for testing at the forensics lab in Quantico, Virginia. “We’re hoping there are fingerprints they can take off of it,” she says. “It would be a significant lead. And this is looking like our most promising one to date.”

D.B. Cooper was not merely a successful criminal, assuming he survived the jump. He became a folk hero. Within a week or so, tee shirts were for sale with the slogan “D.B. Cooper – Where are you?” 

The Oregonian, Dec. 2, 1971

Later that December a bowling alley advertised a cash prize tournament with the tagline “D.B. Cooper didn’t get all the money in the northwest.”   

The Sunday Oregonian, Dec. 12, 1971

I don’t know why Cooper would have been viewed in this positive light. I’m guessing that it was the fact his crime was seen as successful—relatively nonviolent, if stressful for the passengers and crew. The victim was a corporation and in the late 1960s and early ’70s corporations were often cast as the villain by members of the counterculture. One of the interviewees in Hannaford’s story basically says he was “sticking it to the man.” A bar in Ariel, Washington, has been holding a D.B. Cooper Day since 1973 on the day after Thanksgiving . They’ll hold it again this month, on the 40th anniversary of this unsolved crime.

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The Readex Report: In Praise of Librarians and Archivists; Of Presidents and Papers; Ephemeral Loyalties; and Playing Hardball

Tuesday, November 15th, 2011

In our latest issue: A professor lauds his colleagues in the library; dissecting a timeless inaugural speech; consumption versus nationalism in early America; and the unheralded impact of a hard-swinging civil rights giant.

In Praise of Librarians and Archivists: Appreciating the Colleagues Who Make Professors’ Jobs Easier

By Mark Cheathem, Associate Professor of History, Cumberland University

Since I was a child begging my mother to take me to the library on a daily basis, I have appreciated the designated keepers of books. Conducting research as an undergraduate student made me aware of the specialized jobs that academic librarians did every day to make life easier for the clueless young people like me who wandered into the building with no idea about how to find academic journal articles or primary sources…. (read article)

Of Presidents and Papers

By Martha King, Associate Editor, The Papers of Thomas Jefferson

The Papers of Thomas Jefferson, established at Princeton University, is preparing the authoritative and comprehensive edition of the correspondence and papers of our nation’s third president. As historians editing Jefferson’s incoming and outgoing correspondence, we are responsible for gathering documents and making them available to posterity in an accurate, transcribed, and contextualized format through our published and digital editions…. (read article)

Ephemeral Loyalties? Consumption, Commerce and Jeffersonian Politics, 1806-1815

By Joanna Cohen, School of History at Queen Mary, University of London

While the Revolution may have secured Americans their political independence, economic independence remained elusive. As early as 1783, Americans realized that they had not extricated themselves in any meaningful way from the mercantile system of the Atlantic world, still dominated by European imperial might…. (read article)

Playing Hardball: Brushing Off the Memory of a Civil Rights Giant

By Harvey M. Kahn, Humanities Reporter

Many scholars consider Rube Foster’s impact on the civil rights movement as important as that of Booker T. Washington, W.E.B. Du Bois, or any other early twentieth-century figure. Today, with the exception of diehard baseball fans, few people recognize his name…. (read article)

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Tecumseh’s Dream Shattered: 200th Anniversary of the Battle of Tippecanoe

Monday, November 7th, 2011

When reading accounts of the tragic conflict between whites and Native Americans, such as Dee Brown’s Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, one cannot help but wonder why the Indians did not see the whites as a common enemy and band together for their common safety and survival. Unfortunately for them, ancient tribal enmities seemed to erect insurmountable barriers.

So it was that in one of the earliest “Indian wars,” the Mohegan and Pequot tribes helped the English colonists defeat the Narragansett and Wampanoag tribes in 1675-76. Arikara and Crow scouts helped Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer find Sitting Bull’s Arapaho, Cheyenne and Lakota village at the Little Bighorn in 1876. Chiricahua scouts helped General George Crook wage war against the Apache in 1882.  

Shawnee Chief Tecumseh

However, in this sorrowful history of the decimation of one tribe after another by the advance of white civilization, a heroic figure stands apart. One Native American leader tried to do the seemingly impossible: Tecumseh, the charismatic and influential Shawnee chief who organized a tribal confederacy to oppose the white encroachment on Indian lands. A fierce warrior, powerful orator and cunning diplomat, Tecumseh spent the first decade of the nineteenth century skillfully building his dream confederacy.

Then it all fell apart in two hours. In the cold drizzle, overcast skies and pitch darkness of a pre-dawn battle, Tecumseh’s dream was shattered and his confederacy decimated at the Battle of Tippecanoe in Indiana Territory on Nov. 7, 1811—a clash Tecumseh had warned his people to avoid, and a battle that happened without him.  

Tenskwatawa, The Prophet

The Battle of Tippecanoe was one of the most significant battles in the 400-year history of the “Indian Wars” in America, and one of the most important in U.S. history. That single fight destroyed the Native American confederation, was one of the chief sparks of the War of 1812, and helped propel the soldiers’ leader into the White House. 

This story centers around three individuals: Tecumseh, the great Shawnee chief; his brother Tenskwatawa, a crazed medicine man who called himself “The Prophet”; and William Henry Harrison, then-governor of Indiana Territory—an aspiring politician who eventually became the  ninth president of the United States.  

William Henry Harrison

While Tecumseh was travelling throughout the “Northwest Territory”—primarily the modern-day states of Indiana and Illinois—organizing his confederation, Harrison was scheming to expand Indiana Territory’s population to qualify for statehood. To do that, he needed more land—Indian land. He followed the usual procedure—flattery and gifts—to convince some chiefs to put their marks on a piece of paper, the so-called Treaty of Fort Wayne, on Sept. 30, 1809—thereby gaining nearly 3,000,000 acres of land right in the heart of the Indian’s prime hunting grounds.

Tecumseh was furious, and angrily denounced Harrison and his sham treaty in a face-to-face encounter in 1810. The two antagonists met again in August 1811 in Vincennes, the capital of Indiana Territory. Tecumseh was calmer this time, but just as adamant that Harrison’s treaty had no validity and would be ignored by his confederation. This time it was Harrison’s turn to be angry; at the end of the meeting he warned Tecumseh that he had purchased the land legally and would defend the whites’ right to it.

The following newspaper article reports on Tecumseh’s message to Harrison. At the same time it accuses Tecumseh of duplicity, this article points a stern finger of blame squarely at the British for instigating the Indians’ opposition. This article was printed by the Reporter (Lexington, Kentucky) on Nov. 23, 1811: 

…Stript of the thin disguise with which he [Tecumseh] attempted to cover his intentions, the plain English of what he said appeared to be this—“In obedience to the orders of my masters, the British, I have now succeeded in uniting the northern tribes of Indians in a confederacy for the purpose of attacking the United States, and I am now on my way to stir up the southern Indians; I wish you however to remain perfectly quiet until I return—do not attempt to obtain any satisfaction for the injuries you may sustain, or for such as you have already received; I am not yet quite ready to resist you—when I return, I shall be completely so, and then you may do as you please.

The wheels were now set in motion for the Battle of Tippecanoe. Before leaving for the conference with Harrison, Tecumseh announced to his people that he was embarking on a five-month tour of the South to encourage other tribes to join the confederation, including the powerful Cherokees, Chickasaws, Choctaws, Creeks and Seminoles. He sternly admonished his brother, The Prophet, to keep peace and order in their large village and avoid—at all costs—any confrontation with the whites, even if it meant temporarily abandoning their village. Tecumseh told his brother the confederation was not yet powerful enough to wage war against the whites, and must bide its time until after he returned with Southern allies. He also told Harrison about his Southern mission, to let the aggressive governor know the powerful Indian confederation was getting even stronger.

Harrison realized that with Tecumseh away, the time was ripe to take a firm stand against the confederation that stood between him and his dreams of statehood. He assembled a force of over 1,000 men, consisting of U.S. Army regulars, mounted riflemen and militia. Their destination: the large confederation village at the confluence of the Tippecanoe and Wabash Rivers, called “the Prophet’s Town” by the whites but really Tecumseh’s village. While his brother awed the villagers with his mysterious ways, incantations and seemingly magical powers, Tecumseh was the war leader the people trusted to guide them.

The following series of historical newspaper articles tells the story. Harrison’s expedition was in the “wilderness,” away from white civilization, and it took a while for the news to reach the newspapers, usually in the form of letters from participating officers and Harrison himself. However, it is surprising to read the accurate and detailed accounts the newspapers were able to supply the public—and how common the knowledge was that the guns, ammunition and supplies for Tecumseh’s confederation came from the British.

In September 1811 Harrison’s army began their advance. On Sept. 27, one of the officers wrote the following letter, printed by the Columbian Phenix, aka Providence Patriot (Providence, Rhode Island) on Nov. 2, 1811: 

Indian Affairs 

We have been favored, by a gentleman of this town, with the following extracts of letters from an officer in the Western army. In the present uncertainty of the public mind, respecting the ultimate views of the red borderers on our territory (or rather of the British government) and its solicitude with regard to the situation of the small but gallant American force, apparently about to engage in “the unprofitable contest of trying which can do the other the most harm”—these extracts will be perused with interest. 

Camp, 30 miles above Vincennes,

Indiana Territory, Sept, 27, 1811.

Since my last, the troops have descended the Ohio River 1026 miles; ascended the Wabash 150; and are now on our march to the Prophet’s town, for the purpose of erecting a fort on lands purchased of the Indians; but which they now decline giving up. Without doubt, they have been instigated to do this by English emissaries, as well as to massacre some of the whites in their vicinity—and to seize a boat with articles belonging to the government. We have been informed, that they are collected together to the amount of 7 or 800, with intent to resist any settlement, or the erection of a fort. It is expected that Governor Harrison, who is our commander in chief, will, if the Indians resist, force his way to the point he wishes, and erect the fort…We are all in good spirits, and I trust shall do our duty.

This article warns that the approaching confrontation would not be easy, and blames the British for stirring up the Indians. It was printed by The Reporter (Washington, Pennsylvania) on Nov. 4, 1811: 

…It was believed, that on the appearance of an armed force on the Wabash, the idle menaces of the savages, and the ridiculous views of their infatuated leader under the influence and council of our good friends the British, would be awed into silence or totally abandoned. But the true situation of the business now seems different—a force equal to governor Harrison’s has been collected—& the same warlike spirit prevails among the Indians as formerly.

This theme of blaming the British underlay much of the reporting about Harrison’s expedition. Here is another example, printed by the Palladium of Liberty (Morristown, New Jersey) on Nov. 5, 1811: 

…From the friendly course pursued by Mr. Jefferson towards our neighbors, and which has been followed by Mr. Madison, we had supposed the Indians would never more treat us otherwise than as brethren. But we have been mistaken—British intrigue and British gold, it seems, have had greater influence with them of late than American justice and benevolence. Be it so; but let England not hide herself any longer behind the curtain—let her appear to the world as she is, the instigator and protector of savage cruelties; and then real Americans will call into action that spirit of necessary resistance which so eminently distinguished their fathers in the wars of the Revolution.

We have in our possession information which proves beyond doubt the late disturbances to be owing to the successful intrigues of British emissaries with the Indians.

Harrison’s men stopped on October 3 to build a fort, which was named Fort Harrison, and awaited supplies which finally arrived late in the month. With the fort completed and his men restocked, Harrison moved out on October 28 to meet the Indian confederation at its village stronghold—to enforce compliance with the treaty, or do battle.

Just before the supplies arrived, Harrison sat down and wrote Governor Scott of Kentucky the following letter, which the governor passed on to the newspapers. This article was printed by the Reporter (Lexington, Kentucky) on Nov. 9, 1811: 

…The fort which I have erected here, is now complete (as to its defence). I wait for provisions, which I expect tomorrow or the next day, when I shall immediately commence my march, without waiting for the troops which are in the rear—I am determined to disperse the Prophet’s banditti before I return, or give him the chance of acquiring as much fame as a Warrior, as he now has as a Saint. His own proper force does not at this time, exceed 450, but in his rear there are many villages of Potawatomies, most of whom wish well to his cause. I believe they will not join him, but should they do it, and give us battle, I have no fear of the issue. My small army, when joined by the mounted riflemen in the rear, will be formidable—it will not then exceed 950 effectives, but I have great confidence in them, and the relative proportion of the several species of troops, is such as I could wish it.

As the Americans drew near the confederation village on November 6, Tenskwatawa sent three messengers to request a peace conference the next day. Harrison warily agreed, but had his men camp that night in a defensive position about a half-mile from the village, prepared for the battle he suspected was coming—and he had reason to be suspicious. Despite Tecumseh’s explicit warning to avoid a battle in his absence, The Prophet told the warriors he saw in a vision a complete victory for the outnumbered and outgunned Indians (many of the confederation Indians had left Tippecanoe to visit their home villages during Tecumseh’s absence, and only around 500 warriors remained in the confederation village). The Prophet also claimed his magic would make the whites’ bullets harmless.

The Indians attacked shortly after 4:00 the morning of Nov. 7, 1811. The sleeping Americans were at first overwhelmed, but quickly rallied and fought back. The combat was fierce, most of it hand-to-hand, and the Indians quickly realized The Prophet’s vision and magic were both false. When dawn broke two hours later the battle ended, the warriors fleeing back into the woods. The Americans suffered 188 casualties, including 62 dead, but they had held their ground. Although only 38 Indians were killed and perhaps 70 wounded, they had clearly lost the battle and their spirit was broken. The confederation village was hastily abandoned except for one elderly, sick woman who could not run away. The next day Harrison’s men burned it to the ground, destroying the Indians’ shelter, clothing and equipment and capturing their winter food supply of 5,000 bushels of corn and beans.

This is how Harrison reported the fight to Secretary of War William Eustis the day after the Battle of Tippecanoe. His letter was printed by the Alexandria Daily Gazette, Commercial & Political (Alexandria, Virginia) on Dec. 2, 1811:

…I arrived at my present position (a mile from the town) on the evening of the 6th instant; a correspondence was immediately opened with the Prophet, and there was every appearance of a successful termination of the expedition, without bloodshed. Indeed there was an agreement for a suspension of hostilities, until a further communication should take place on the next day. Contrary, however, to this engagement, he attacked me at half past four o’clock in the morning, so suddenly, that the Indians were in the camp before many of the men could get out of their tents. A little confusion for a short time prevailed, but aided by the great exertions of the officers, I was soon enabled to form the men in order. The companies which were hard pressed were supported, several successful charges made, and about daylight, the enemy were finally put to flight. Our killed and wounded amount to 179, of these 42 are now dead.

The same day as Harrison’s letter, one of his officers—Captain Hunter—wrote the following letter. It was printed by the Ohio Gazette and Virginia Herald (Marietta, Ohio) on Nov. 25, 1811: 

wounded is very great. Geiger and myself (Capt. Hunter) are slightly wounded. The most of our men from Kentucky are safe or not badly wounded. The rascals have got all our beef, & some of our horses. Such a battle has never been fought. We have killed many of their Warriors—the most that we have found are old men; they were all through our camp. An old woman was left in the town, who says, that we killed many of them, and wounded many more. We are all in high spirits.”

Further details are supplied by this letter, printed by the Alexandria Daily Gazette, Commercial & Political (Alexandria, Virginia) on Nov. 27, 1811: 

…The Indians made the attack on the [morning] of the 7th inst.—they surprised our army—they killed all the guards with arrows and were in the camp before the whites had the least notice of them. The battle was fought in sight of the Prophet’s Town. Three Indians attacked Col. F. Geiger in his tent at one time—he killed one and vanquished the other two—he was shot through the arm. Gov. Harrison was shot through the hat and slightly wounded in the head. Thomas Randolph was killed dead; Judge Taylor’s horse was killed under him. It is said that Major Floyd fought like Caesar in his shirt-tail. The Indians rushed up and came to the point of the bayonet with their tomahawks. There has been dreadful slaughter…Hunter states that the Indians got all their beef and a great number of their horses; they [the soldiers] got about five thousand bushels of corn and burned the Prophet’s Town the day after the action.”

The confederation was greatly demoralized by its defeat and the loss of its stronghold, and angrily blamed The Prophet for falsely promising the warriors that his magic would protect them. They tied him up and held him captive, awaiting his brother’s sure-to-be-angry return. This article was printed by the Farmer’s Repository (Charlestown, West Virginia) on Dec. 27, 1811: 

by his conjuration, turn their powder into sand—and furnished every warrior with a charm to render him invulnerable…A report prevailed at Vincennes, that Tecumseh with 300 warriors, from the southern tribes, was on his march to the Wabash—this was believed, but little fear existed of depredations from them; it was supposed they would disperse when made acquainted with the fate of their allies.

Governor Harrison had achieved his signal triumph. With evident satisfaction, he wrote the following letter to Secretary Eustis on December 4. It was printed by the Federal Gazette & Baltimore Daily Advertiser (Baltimore, Maryland) on Dec. 23, 1811:

…It is certain that our frontiers have never enjoyed more profound tranquility than at this time. No injury of any kind that I can hear of has been done either to the persons or property of our citizens. Before the [Tippecanoe] expedition not a fortnight passed over without some vexatious depredation being committed. The Kickapoo chiefs…acknowledge, however, that the Indians have never sustained so severe a defeat since their acquaintance with the white people.

Tecumseh returned two months after the Battle of Tippecanoe to find his village in ashes and his confederation torn apart, the Indians scattered. It had taken Tecumseh ten years to build his dream. His foolish brother destroyed it in two hours.

With great restraint he did not kill his brother, but instead publicly denounced him and doomed him to a life of scorn—the disgraced Tenskwatawa lived another abject 23 years, dying at the age of 61.

Despite his efforts, Tecumseh could not rebuild the former strength and unity of his confederation; the Indians’ will and faith had been broken. When the War of 1812 broke out seven months after the Battle of Tippecanoe—in part caused by American anger over British complicity in the Indian hostilities—Tecumseh and what warriors still followed him joined the British and played a major role in the capture of Detroit on Aug. 16, 1812. However, he was betrayed at the Battle of the Thames on Oct. 5, 1813, when the cowardly British commander fled the field and Tecumseh was killed rallying his warriors. He was 45.

Harrison was the victorious American commander at the Battle of the Thames. When he successfully ran for president in the election of 1840 with running mate John Tyler, the popular campaign slogan and song “Tippecanoe and Tyler too” was used to rekindle voters’ enthusiasm for Harrison’s landmark victory over Tecumseh’s Indian confederation. He became the nation’s ninth president on March 4, 1841, at the age of 68. He died exactly one month later.

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A Sports Legend and His Dream: Bobby Jones, the Augusta National Golf Club and the Birth of the Masters

Tuesday, November 1st, 2011

Bobby Jones entered the Roaring Twenties still the teenage prodigy who had first come to the public’s attention when he qualified for the U.S. Amateur Championship at the age of 14. By the end of the 1920s, Jones was firmly established as a major star. The only golfer considered one of the true icons of the Golden Age of Sports, Bobby Jones stood alongside Babe Ruth, Red Grange, Jack Dempsey and Bill Tilden as giants in the public eye.

Jones’ road to success was not as quick, or easy, as his precocious abilities might have made it appear. It took several years, a few near-misses, and evolving maturity before Bobby broke through. Although winning the amateur championships brought enough glory and achievement to earn him a place in golf’s pantheon, Bobby took his fame a major step further by regularly beating the top professionals of the day.

He won three British and four U.S. Opens against strong fields that included such legends as Walter Hagen and Gene Sarazen—the only two U.S. golfers of that period whose triumphs earned them a mention alongside Jones. Beating professionals at their own game elevated Jones beyond golf and made him one of the most popular sports stars in the United States. Such was the public affection for Bobby Jones that he remains the only individual athlete to be honored with two New York City ticker-tape parades. The second ticker-tape parade, in 1930, celebrated Jones’ unprecedented Grand Slam.

By winning both the Open and Amateur Championships of Great Britain and the United States, and thus triumphing both at home and overseas against fields made up of the finest players in the world, Bobby’s accomplishment was unparalleled.

After his Grand Slam, Jones was eager to escape the pressures of both celebrity and championship-caliber golf.

For a one-dimensional athlete, retirement from his or her chosen sport can be a challenge greater than any faced on the fields of competition. Jones, however, was a well-educated, intelligent soul interested in much more than the game of golf. Not only had he earned undergraduate degrees from Georgia Tech (B.S., Mechanical Engineering) and Harvard College (B.A., English Literature), but after just one year of law school at Emory he passed the Georgia bar exam.

Jones looked forward to embracing the rewards of a well-rounded life. Determined to remain part of the golf world, Jones sought to establish a club with members from across the nation. It was to be situated in a climate warm enough for winter play. Members were to be successful men who took their golf seriously and had the financial standing necessary to form the type of club that Bobby envisioned.

On July 15, 1931, The Augusta Chronicle devoted most of its front page to coverage of the announcement that Jones and his associates were founding the Augusta National Golf Club. Nearly six of its eight columns were necessary to display four articles on Jones and his new club.

Among the specific details in the Chronicle’s reporting were items such as:

The site Jones chose was a former nursery with enough land to build several courses:

Jones discussed his intentions for the club:

O.B. Keeler, famed golf writer and long-time chronicler of Jones’ career, made a prediction that at the time might have seemed more fantasy than fact, but now seems remarkably accurate:

Even with Jones’ involvement, building a new golf course in the early years of the Great Depression was no small challenge. Few private clubs would open during the 1930s, and many established clubs closed, falling victim to the tough economic times. Not until the Works Progress Administration began building public courses later in the ‘30s would course construction resume with any regularity. By encouraging a national membership, Jones and his backers had access to enough capital to make this confident statement:

Jones intended to use his experiences playing the world’s great golf courses to lay out the new course, but realized he needed a professional golf course architect to ensure the greatest success. He chose Alister MacKenzie, a Scottish physician-turned-course designer as his architectural partner:

With sufficient financing, excellent topography and natural features, as well as the best design instincts of both Jones and MacKenzie, the course was ready for its debut in January 1933. The Chronicle’s coverage is replete with interesting details:

The reporting hints at the affluence of the visiting golfers:

In addition to the obvious attractions of warm southern weather and Jones’ hospitality, the course itself was to be the star of the gathering:

The Masters, world famous as one of golf’s major championships, has been played since 1934. Conceived by Jones, the annual event was intended to bring the top professional and amateur players together in the spring when the Augusta National course would be at its best. Originally called the “Augusta National Invitational Tournament,” the hometown Chronicle began referring to it as the “Masters’ Invitation Tournament.” By 1939 this was shortened to the Masters, a name known today by even the most casual sports fans.

At first the Masters’ primary draw was less the prospect of seeing out-of-town competitors than watching the great Bobby Jones in action once again. Jones had entered no important tournaments since his post-Grand Slam retirement in 1930, but was still in the public eye thanks to a series of instructional films made in Hollywood as well as golf equipment endorsements which he had accepted after retiring from amateur competition. While Jones intended the tournament to be a gathering of old friends and top-level players, his other aspirations were publicity and recognition for his new club and the resulting prestige that would come from hosting such an event. Though he was firmly retired there was much speculation about how Bobby would do in his dual roles of host and competitive golfer. 

Speaking to reporters on the eve of play, Bobby said, “I hope to step four fast rounds,” but sportswriters knew that his putting was not thought to be tournament-ready.

Veteran Atlanta Journal reporter O.B. Keeler, who had gained fame as Jones’ Boswell after years of chronicling Bobby’s triumphs, gave the details:

The first Masters was a rudimentary affair compared to today’s professional production with its worldwide live media coverage and sold-out crowds proudly holding one of the toughest tickets in all sports. Prize money in the heart of the Depression was far more modest than today’s seven-figure purses and first-place checks. The first playing featured a total purse of $5,000, $1,500 of which went to winner Horton Smith. The March 26 edition of the Chronicle featured extensive coverage:

The following year would see changes to the course, something that would become a regular occurrence at the Augusta National through the decades. Although the course remains basically the same as the original design by Jones and MacKenzie, it has continued to evolve. In 1935 the tournament drew extra attention when winner Gene Sarazen holed his second shot at the par-five 15th for a headline-making double-eagle during his triumphant final round.

Bobby Jones would remain an integral part of both Augusta National Golf Club and the Masters tournament through the remaining years of his life. Even today he is still listed as the Club’s President-in-Perpetuity.

This view of the 1990 Masters shows the gallery watching play on the 12th tee with the 11th green in the background. (Copyright: Larry Petrillo)

Forty years after Jones’ death, the Masters retains its unique position in championship golf—the first men’s major of the year. For many northern golfers the Masters is proof that spring is on its way. It remains the only major championship played at the same course each year, a course that thanks to extensive television coverage is as well known to many golfers as their own home course, despite the club’s exclusive nature during the other 51 weeks of the year.

Today, the lasting popularity of Augusta National Golf Club, and the continued success of the Masters, is a fitting legacy for Bobby Jones, a legendary champion and stellar sportsman.

[Editor's note: The articles and black-and-white images above are found in America's Historical Newspapers. To learn more, please contact readexmarketing@readex.com.]

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