Book of the Month June 2023: Empires of Light

Great are the powers of electricity....It makes millionaires. It paints devil's tails in the air and floats placidly in the waters of the earth. It hides in the air. It creeps into every living thing....Last night it nestled in the sherry. It lurked in the pale Rhine wine. It hid in the claret and sparkled in the champagne. It trembled in the sorbet electrique....Small wonder that the taste was thrilled and the man who sipped was electrified...energy begets energy. (from the Buffalo Morning Express, January 13th, 1897, after the city had been electrified)

I rather desperately wanted to write this on Joe Rigney's new Emotional Sabotage. But if you're one of the four people who reads my stuff, you've already heard of that one. So I decided to do something a bit more unknown. So our candidate for this month, flouncing into the (electric) spotlight in all her shy glory, is Empires of Light: Edison, Tesla, Westinghouse, and the Race to Electrify the World by Jill Jonnes (2004). In this highly readable historical work, we are treated to visions of how a substance that we moderns take for granted--electricity--sparkled and crackled its way into American life at the end of the 19th century.

A Fusillade of Federalist

 Rather than overload a commonplaces post with the massive number I pulled out of my reading of the Federalist Papers (which I finally finished last month, after twelve years of attempts) I have decided to put them all in one place. Even if quote lists are not your thing, I think you will find some of these enlightening. Enjoy!

“Have we not already seen enough of the fallacy and extravagance of those idle theories which have amused us with promises of an exemption from the imperfections, weaknesses and evils incident to society in every shape? Is it not time to awake from the deceitful dream of a golden age, and to adopt as a practical maxim for the direction of our political conduct that we, as well as the other inhabitants of the globe, are yet remote from the happy empire of perfect wisdom and perfect virtue?”—Hamilton, Madison, or Jay, The Federalist Papers No. 6

Book of the Month January 2024: Did America Have a Christian Founding?

 

The short answer? Yes.

But if you want to start getting into more depth than that, Mark David Hall's Did America Have a Christian Founding: Separating Modern Myth from Historical Truth (2019) is a great place to start.

"Scholars and popular authors routinely assert that America's founders were deists who desired the strict separation of church and state...Even prominent Christian college professors such as Richard T. Hughes argue that "most of the American founders embraced some form of Deism, not historically orthodox Christianity." Examples of authors who make such statements may be multiplied almost indefinitely. These claims are patently and unequivocally false. This book demonstrates why." (xv) 

Why Should You Read This Book?

If you live in America today, you probably have been raised to believe one of two views of the United States' early relationship to religion:

The Book with the Curl in the Middle of Its Forehead

 

Thomas Cahill's How the Irish Saved Civilization is one of those really frustrating books whose overall value fluctuates depending on what chapter you're currently in. It's rather like that old Longfellow rhyme:

There was a little girl,
    Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
    When she was good, 
    She was very good indeed.
But when she was bad she was horrid.

Book of the Month February 2023: Cicero: The Life and Times of Rome's Greatest Politician

 

I know, I know, this is a whole lunar month late. Life got exciting (which is French for "I forgot").

February's book of the month is Anthony Everitt's Cicero: The Life and Times of Rome's Greatest Politician. It's a newer book (2011) so it's quite accessible, but it has other virtues: it is also thorough, detailed, and sympathetic. 

We probably know more personal details about Marcus Tullius Cicero than any other man (or woman) of the ancient world. That is because over nine hundred of his letters, official and personal, have survived to the present in one of those preservational flukes historians love to argue about. "In Cicero's correspondence," writes Everitt, "noble Romans are flesh and blood, not marble. Here is someone who dined with Julius Caesar, 

Occasionally Your Heroes Bump Into Each Other...

 You ever bump into fun little parallels in your studies? That's all this post is--a fun little parallel. I was reading through Cicero's Phillipics (his speeches condemning Mark Antony after the assassination of Julius Caesar) and came across the following passage in the Tenth, where he is denouncing the weak-minded conciliation of his fellow senators:

"Finally—let me give utterance at last to a word, true and worthy of myself—if the purposes of this our order are governed by the nod of the veterans, and all our sayings and doings are regulated according to their will, I should choose death, which to Roman citizens has always been preferable to slavery. All slavery is wretched; but grant there was a slavery that was unavoidable; do you contemplate ever beginning the recovery of your liberty? When we could not endure that unavoidable and almost Fate-designed calamity, shall we endure this voluntary one? The whole of Italy is aflame with the longing for liberty; the citizens can no longer be slaves, we have given the Roman people this war and these weapons long after they have demanded them.

Book of the Month July 2022: Third Time Around

 Our winner this time around was the historical treatise Third Time Around: A History of the Pro-life Movement from the First Century to the Present (1991) by George Grant. He recounts that the book was inspired by the question, "Women have been suffering for centuries. What were all you Christians doing before Roe v. Wade?"

Well, quite a lot, actually. Grant traces the Christian influence on the treatment of babies (and all other unwanted human beings) from the Roman Empire to the present, showing just how involved the church has been in such matters for centuries. The idea that a parent has the right to kill any child he or she does not want is an extremely old one. In Rome, it was the father who decided who lived or died; now, the mother does instead--but the principle is the same. Human beings always want to sin, and child sacrifice is a primary and obvious way to do it. They can't really fight back, after all.

Grant traces the Christian influence through three major movements:  

1. Christianity's expansion into the Roman Empire and then the pagan north (until abortion and slavery were both finally outlawed).

 2. How the church had to overcome the reversion to pagan values (and abortion) that marked the Renaissance, and the world-wide missions movement that made "human values" a coherent concept. 

3. Modern pushback against those like Margaret Sanger, Hitler, and the current abortion crowd. 

The Christians of each era are treated generally, then several specific examples are given. Some are more well-known (Boniface, William Carey, Francis Schaeffer) and some are less (Barlaam of Antioch, anyone?). Grant casts the struggle for life as an eternal one, a war that the saints will always have to step up and fight again; the book is dedicated to his children "who will have to take up the cause the next time around." Fighting a battle that feels hopeless is a recipe for disaster. But knowing this battle has been won multiple times before is reassuring, though the difficulty remains.

At this moment in history, with Roe v. Wade twitching on the dissecting table and plenty of storm clouds on the horizon, this book is worth picking up, both as a reminder of what can be achieved and a comfort to those bracing for the onslaught. 

A Plane Old Day

Wwwwwwwrrrrrrrrroooooooowwwwwww!

Can anything equal the sound of an Allison V-12 engine roaring by?

Well, maybe the sound of a Rolls-Royce Merlin or a Pratt and Whitney.  But all three at once? Unsurpassable.

(On second thought, a deep-toned steam train whistle is probably better. But I digress.)

Little bitty Lewiston, Idaho isn’t known for much these days. Ask residents of the town where I live, and their first thoughts of the city to the south will mention two things: the Lewiston Grade (beautiful winding climb in the summer, nightmare of Route 95 in the winter) and the stink of the Clearwater Paper plant that pervades downtown.

But it does have an airport. And this weekend, the tiny Nez Perce County aerodrome has a bunch of propellers all over it. The annual "Radials 'n' Rivers" event brings a score or more of prop planes to town, and I went down Saturday to see some vintage craft. There were the usual trainers, a bunch of biplanes, an old chrome-colored passenger plane. But the cream of the crop? The World War II machines: most of the major land-based American craft of that conflict were represented, and all of them airworthy!

I started the event by pulling Red into the grassy overflow parking and sauntering past the long line for the shuttles. The runways were literally on the other side of the fence. What could they possibly need shuttles for? Besides, I needed the exercise. I got it, too; it turns out the planes were all parked on the apron on the far side of the runways,  so that a two-mile loop around the end was needed—and the beautiful, partly-cloudy, 80-plus degree day meant that would be a bit of a sweaty trip. Thankfully, a church acquaintance driving by offered a ride in the back of his truck. I love small towns!

On arrival at the apron, my first choice was to join a stretching, sinuous line to climb inside the great workhorse of WWII—the B-17 Flying Fortress. Carrying a crew of ten, thirteen .50-caliber machine guns and up to 8,000 pounds of bombs, this was the plane that flew deep into Nazi territory during daylight hours to destroy factories and other strategic targets. If you’ve ever watched any amount of documentary footage from WWII, I am certain you’ve seen at least one B-17. The inside was cramped, particularly the foot-wide walkway through the bomb bay—the portly gentleman ahead of me nearly became a permanent addition to the plane. But he squirmed through and I got this lovely shot out one of the waist guns.

Next was the B-24—the Liberator. A slightly smaller bomber than her more famous cousin, the B-17, she had a greater range and was adapted to far more uses, from antisubmarine warfare to cargo transport over the Himalayas. Her bomb bay catwalk was even narrower—a mere nine inches wide. Actor Jimmy Stewart flew 20-plus missions as a B-24 pilot in Europe.

A Mitchell B-25 was also out on the apron, but they had it fired up and running rides for the spectators, at the rate of $450 dollars for a half-hour trip. Would have been tempting if I was independently wealthy.

But the highlight of the day was at 1430, when the all the fighters present were put in the air for a grand fly-by. Two P-40 Warhawks (one of our early fighters), two P-51 Mustangs (late war long-range fighters), and the only surviving airworthy P-47 Thunderbolt, the Dottie Mae.

The Dottie Mae has a fascinating story. On May 8^th, 1945—V-E Day—she was being flown in the Alps to drop leaflets on an Allied prisoner of war camp, letting them know that ground troops were on the way to liberate it. The pilot misjudged his altitude above a clear mountain lake and crashed into it, making the Dottie Mae the last aircraft lost in the European theater. (The pilot jumped out after it hit and was saved by two Austrian girls--in a canoe.) For seventy years, it lay at the bottom of the lake in over two hundred feet of water. In 2005, an expedition financed by an American WWII vet found it and raised it, and after a ten-year restoration (most of the missing parts had to be made by hand) it now flies once again—its original pilot was even on hand to witness the inaugural flight. This air festival was only the third time it had been flown publicly. Its Pratt and Whitney engine (the same one used in the Navy’s Hellcats and Corsairs) had a noticeably lower, smoother tone than the other fighters flying today. Nicknamed “Jugs” due to their milk-bottle shape, the P-47 carried eight machine guns and could load a few bombs as well, making it a favorite ground-interdiction fighter. They took out trains, trucks, or other treetop-level targets.
The planes flew by individually at first, then in groups, and finally did a few passes with all five in formation. And the sound of those engines roaring by in unison is something I hope I won’t forget.

Then it was time for the long walk back around, the drive home (during which I picked up an exquisite Papa John’s pizza for only eight bucks—thanks, junk mail coupons!), and a relaxed evening of watching old documentary footage of those planes in their service period.

Plainly, a good old Saturday, indeed.

Heroes IV--Stonewall Jackson

Heroes IV—Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson

Lest you think that all my heroes are fictional, let’s jump to a few historical figures. First off: one of the greatest (arguably) military men the Americas ever produced: Thomas Jonathan “Stonewall” Jackson. Much as it embarrasses me to admit it, I still haven't finished Dabney's defining biography of him after three years of on-and-off effort. But I will. In the meantime, I still know a few things.

Born in the backwoods of Virginia in 1824, he survived becoming an orphan, brutal work, and poor schooling until he entered West Point at the age of eighteen. There he displayed a single-minded determination that was to mark the rest of his life, rising from dead last in the academic rankings to seventeenth by graduation. His peers later said that if studies had lasted another year, he would have made first place. He immediately left to fight in the Mexican war as an artilleryman, earning some recognition for a gallant defense at Chapultepec. He was assigned to the Virginia Military Institute after the war and taught there. While he was a terrible teacher—he memorized his lectures, recited them by rote, and never deviated from them—he was a better churchman, and taught Sunday school to the black slaves of Lexington. His first wife died here in childbirth.

When the war broke out, he organized the 2^nd, 4^th, 5^th, 27^th and 33^rd VA Regiments into a brigade he commanded. On July 21^st, 1861—156 years ago to the day—he led them to immortality on the fields of Manassas. General Bee attempted to rally his fleeing troops by shouting, “Look at Jackson! There he stands like a stone wall. Rally behind the Virginians!” Both the commander and the brigade would ever after bear the sobriquet “Stonewall.”

Afterwards came the triumphs that built his legend: The Valley Campaign, Second Manassas, Chancellorsville. His audacity, speed, and coolness under fire all became parts of an enduring story that was almost a myth. His basic Calvinistic believe in divine providence gave him no cause for fear, his solitary devotion to duty left him no time for playing politics. There were the enemy, and it was his God-given, terrible duty to destroy them until they laid down their arms. With his brilliance came all the usual idiosyncrasies of genius—he always stayed bolt upright even in the saddle to keep his organs in place; sucked lemons; tended to throw his left hand out, palm upright, as he waged battles and implored divine providence; and tended to throw the full weight of military court-martial at subordinates who committed very minor offences. But his soldiers loved him and he won battles—the two ultimate tributes to a fighting commander.

He died of pneumonia May 10th, 1863, eight days after being mistakenly wounded by his own troops after his great triumph at Chancellorsville. He had cemented his place in history in a little under two years. A great soldier, a devout Presbyterian, and a doting husband, he remains an inspiration to me and many others in North and South alike.

Once Upon A Day--July 30th

Two hundred and twelve days into Anno Domini MMXI, it is time to remember the past once again. Let us see what transpired in days of yore.

A.D. 1619—The first representative body in America, The Virginia House of Burgesses, convenes in Jamestown.

1818—Emily Bronte, the famous English author, is born.

1863—Henry Ford is born. He would create more bored employees than ever before with the principal introduction of the assembly line principle, and more vacation possibilities than ever before with the mass production of the Model T.

1864—The Battle of the Crater—during the Petersburg campaign of the War Between the States, Lt. Col. Henry Pleasents, a former Pennsylvania miner, came up with a plan to break the trench warfare stalemate by using the old tactic of mining to blow a hole in the Confederate lines. They drove the tunnel over 500 feet before packing it full of four tons of gunpowder. It was exploded at 0444 hours and threw the Confederates who survived into a panic. However, a last minute change in the attacking column from Ferrero’s division of Colored Troops to Leslie’s division meant the troops were untrained and uninformed. They bunched in the crater, as did the supporting forces of the second wave, and the steep sides trapped them. Confederate general Mahone later described the result as a “turkey shoot.” After 3,789 Yankee casualties and 1,419 Confederate, the situation of the siege remained unchanged. Grant later called it “the saddest affair I have witnessed in this war.”

1918—Joyce Kilmer, the poet most famous for Trees, is killed while serving with the 165^th RGT (“The Fighting 69^th”) during the 3^rd Battle of the Marne by a sniper bullet while scouting enemy lines.

1932—Flowers and Trees is premiered by Walt Disney—it is the first color cartoon short.

1971—Apollo 15—David Scott and Jim Irwin land on the moon, bringing the Lunar Rover and becoming the first men to drive on another planetary body. Presumably with a license. 

Once Upon A Day--September 13th

So, with 109 days left in Anno Domini 2015, let’s take a look at some of the fascinating occurrences of today! Be warned, there are a lot. To help incite you to reach the end, my personal preeminent past point will be produced at the posterior of this post. So read posthaste! ;-)

 

A.D. 81—Titus, the Roman emperor who conquered Jerusalem and destroyed the Temple, dies.

1501—Michelangelo begins work on his famous statue of David in Florence. It will take more than two years to complete. That’s a long time to chip on a rock…

1521—William Cecil, later the Baron Burghley, is born. He would become Elizabeth I’s treasurer, and along with her spymaster Walpole is one of the main reasons her reign was peaceful and solvent.

1541—John Calvin is recalled to Geneva after a three-year banishment by the town authorities. Who were, of course, all under his charismatic cultist thumb. Methodical as always, his sermon when he ascended the pulpit that Sunday was the consecutive passage from where he had left off three years before.

1592—Montaigne, the French philosopher, dies.

1609—Explorer Henry Hudson finds the river that would be named for him, in what would become New York.

1759—At the concluding battle of the Seven Year’s War (known in America as the French and Indian War) the British scale the impassable cliffs surrounding Quebec, the French citadel, and give battle on the Plains of Abraham. Although the British are victorious, their commander, James Wolfe, is mortally wounded.

1813—John Sedgwick, a Union Army corps commander in the War Between the States, is born.

Rockets and bombs glaring and bursting...

1814—During the War of 1812, the British attack Baltimore, which was defended from Ft. McHenry. The British bombarded the fort with shot, shell, and rockets on the night of the 13^th. On the morning of the 14^th, a young American lawyer arranging a prisoner transfer watched as the defiant garrison of McHenry raised their enormous fifteen-stars-and-fifteen-stripes flag. His name—Francis Scott Key. His poem in praise of the “star-spangled banner” would become the American national anthem in 1931.

1847—The Battle of Chapultepec results in Yankee victory during the Mexican-American War, paving the way for the capture of Mexico City. Chapultepec Castle was a strong point in the city’s defenses, but fell to American marines and soldiers with comparative ease; Santa Anna, the Mexican commander, is said to have exclaimed, “I believe if we were to plant our batteries in Hell, the d— Yankees would take them from us!” The battle involved several who would become famous in war twenty years later, including Lee, Jackson, Grant, Beauregard, Longstreet, and Pickett. The phrase in the Marine Hymn “From the Halls of Montezuma” is a reference to this fight.

Yes, I give kisses to blog readers...

1851—Walter Reed is born. He led the team that discovered yellow fever was transmitted by mosquitoes, allowing the completion of the Panama Canal.

1857—Milton Hershey, founder/inventor of Hershey’s Chocolate, is born.

1860—John J. Pershing is born. He served as the commander of America’s troops overseas, the Allied Expeditionary Force, in World War I.

1862—Two soldiers of the Union Army of the Potomac find Robert E. Lee’s Special Order 191 (detailing troop movements) wrapped around three lost cigars in a field, setting in motion the bloodiest single day of the War Between the States, the battle of Antietam/Sharpsburg.

1881—Ambrose Burnside, a Union Civil War general (and the man who gave his name to sideburns) dies.

1942—Marines of LTC M. Edson’s Raider Battalion continue to fight along a ridge protecting Henderson Airfield from Japanese counterattack on Guadalcanal. Eventually called the Battle of Bloody Ridge or Edson’s Ridge, it was the first defeat of a sizable Japanese land force and one of the tipping points of WWII in the Pacific.

Okay, this was difficult. But I think that the Battle for Fort McHenry is my favorite for today, mostly because I got to go visit that place with my family and help raise the flag. Which was this history nut's dream he didn't know he had! So thankful to live in the “Land of the Free and Home of the Brave!”

Once Upon A Day--August 19th

On this august day :-) some of the following occurred among the sons of men:

A.D. 14—Death of Augustus, 1^st Imperator (Emperor) of the Romans.  This month bearing his name, August, was formerly called Sextilis (or the “sixth” month, before the addition of January and February) and renamed in his honor by the Roman Senate in 8 B.C.

1662—Death of Blaise Pascal. He was a pioneer mathematician and scientist, and an amateur philosopher. He is credited with the invention/discovery of the hydraulic press, the syringe, an early form of probability theory, and the fact that vacuums (contra Aristotle) actually exist. The SI unit of pressure is named for him.

1745—“Bonnie Prince Charlie” Charles Edward Stuart raises the standard of the Stuarts in Glenfinnan, beginning the second (and last) Jacobite rebellion against the House of Hanover, known as “the ’45.” His Highlander clans would follow to final defeat at the battle of Culloden eight months later.

1812—The USS Constitution  defeats HMS Guerriere off the coast of Nova Scotia, during which the British are amazed that their cannon fire merely bounces off the Constitution’s two-foot-thick oak sides. “Huzzah! Her sides are made of iron!” the American sailors exclaimed—leading to her nickname, “Old Ironsides”  half a century before the U.S. Navy actually commissioned an iron-constructed vessel. She serves today in Boston harbor, the oldest continually commissioned ship (since 1791) in the Navy. (A movie buff aside: the Constitution served as the model and historical basis for the Acheron, the enemy ship in Master and Commander.)

1843—Cyrus I. Scofield,  a minister and theologian of the Congregationalist denomination, is born. His Bible commentary in the Scofield Reference Bible did much to popularize dispensationalism.

1871—Orville Wright, of the famous Wright Brothers, is born in Dayton, Ohio.

1895—John Wesley Hardin, the former Texas gunfighter and outlaw, is murdered by being shot in the back of the head by John Selman in a saloon in El Paso.

1921—Gene Roddenberry, the original writer and founding force of Star Trek, is born.

1942—During WWII, Canadians amphibiously assault Nazi-occupied Dieppe on the coast of France. Although the operation is a failure, many lessons learned are carried over to the Normandy invasion two years later.

Once Upon A Day--August 18th

A few interesting tidbits concerning the eighteenth day of the eighth month.

A.D. 1227—death of Genghis Khan, one of the great warriors of history. He and his Mongol hordes conquered and ruled most of Asia during his lifetime.

1572—Marriage of Henry (III) of Navarre to Margaret of Valois in Paris, an event that helped lead to the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre. Henry, although only nineteen, was a leading figure among the Protestant movement of France during the Wars of Religion and a close relative of the French king Henry II. The marriage to his cousin Margaret, Henry II’s daughter, was intended to cement an alliance between the Huguenots and Catholics during a period of peace. Many Huguenots came to Paris for the nuptials, creating a powder-keg situation in the vehemently Catholic city. It would erupt a week later on the 24^th in massacre. Henry would survive, fight a few more wars, convert to Catholicism, and eventually succeed to the throne as Henry IV, founder of the House of Bourbon.

1587—Birth of the first known baby of English descent in America, Virginia Dare, in Roanoke Colony.

1774—Birth of Meriwether Lewis, co-leader of the Lewis and Clark Expedition.

1936—Birth of the actor Robert Redford.

And oddly, the date of the death of no less than four different popes, including Alexander VI in 1503, one of the most notably worldly popes of the Renaissance period. He had somewhere around ten (illegitimate, of course) children, most of whom he managed to put in positions of power through his influence, and thus founded the infamous Borgia family. Machiavelli cited him favorably as a model ruler in The Prince--not exactly a compliment for a pope.

Once Upon A Day--July 21st

It is my intention to occasionally post a few bits and pieces of history. Today seemed like a good day to start, because several disparate but fascinating events have occurred on the twenty-first day of the seventh month.  Here are a few of them:

"Great is Artemis of the Ephesians" really set Herostratus on fire for fame...

356 B.C.—Destruction of the Temple of Artemis in Ephesus

                Touted by Antipater as one of the “Seven Sights of the World” the Temple of Artemis in Ephesus was one of the great and beautiful feats of architecture that Greek culture produced. Herodotus says that Croesus, of “rich as” fame, partially funded its construction. Like most of the Seven Wonders, this one was destroyed. A man named Herostratus deliberately set it afire, so that through his arson his name would endure forever. In English, he gave us the phrase “herostratic fame” which is used for a person who deliberately did something heinous out of a desire for pure notoriety. Plutarch tells in his “Life of Alexander (the Great)”, somewhat wryly, that it burned down because Artemis was absent assisting in the birth of that great ruler. Which would, of course, make the 21^st the birthday of Alexander as well.

It was rebuilt by the Ephesians and would later serve again as one of the great attractions of that city. On account of it, Paul was nearly killed by a mob in Acts XIX, when Demetrius, who made silver shrines of Artemis, stirred up a tumult.

 

A.D. 1796—Death of Robert Burns

 

                Robert Burns (1759-1796) has been called one of the greatest of Scotland’s sons. He was a poet, writing in both Scots dialect and English. His works include “The Braes o’ Killiecrankie,” “Scots Wha Hae,” and of course, “Auld Lang Syne.” Talented and handsome, he was also a dissolute rake whose philandering lifestyle likely contributed to his early death at thirty-seven.

 

A.D. 1861—Battle of First Manassas

               

                In the rural countryside of Virginia on a hot day 154 years ago, the United States dissolved and began the bloodiest conflict ever waged on this continent.  Irvin McDowell led about 18,000 Union troops over Bull Run to collide with the combined forces of Confederates Joseph Johnston and P.G.T. Beauregard. Here Thomas Jackson and his men gained their famed sobriquet of “Stonewall” from General Bee, who called to his men, “Look at Jackson! There he stands like a stone wall. Rally behind the Virginians!” Here also Jackson exhorted the men of the Fourth Virginia Regiment, “When you charge, yell like furies!” birthing the famed Rebel Yell. Manassas was a Confederate victory, and signaled that the war would be anything but the quick contest the spectator politicians from Washington D.C. had anticipated. It would drag on for another four years until 1865.

 

A.D. 1925—Scopes Trial Concludes

 

                A mere ninety years ago today, substitute teacher John Scopes was found guilty of teaching evolution in the public schools and fined $100, a fair sum in those days. The trial was far more of a media event than a pure trial, however. Scopes was unsure he had ever actually taught evolution, but plead guilty to provide a test case for the ACLU. Both sides brought in big names to plead their case: the Fundamentalists, three-time presidential candidate and former Secretary of State William Jennings Bryan. The ACLU brought in Clarence Darrow, a noted agnostic and the first lawyer to ever successfully use an “insanity plea” to get his clients out of a murder charge (Leopold-Loeb, 1924). Tiny Dayton, Tennessee was overrun with journalists and spectators; it was also the first trial to be broadcast on radio. While the Fundamentalists won that day in 1925, it was later overturned on a technicality and they were largely embarrassed by Darrow’s wit and greater knowledge. In retrospect, it marked the withdrawal in a great part of the religious fundamentalists from public life, until the Culture Wars began in the 70’s.

Destruction of a wonder, the death of a profligate poet, a battle that birthed a legend, and the beginning of the end for the public school system. And God put them all on the same day. Ain’t history grand?