Meet Me in St. Louis

Meet Me in St. Louis… Meet Me at the Fair

April 30, 2019

Festival Hall at the 1904 Louisiana Purchase Exposition

The 1904 Louisiana Purchase Exposition – also known as the St. Louis World’s Fair – is considered by some to be the most significant world’s fair ever. It was an exposition unlike any the world had ever seen and featured pavilions, gardens, electric light displays, and introduced a number of modern marvels. It opened April 30th and ran through December 1st that year; it drew just shy of 20 million people.

Fair goers marveled at communication wonders like the wireless telephone and also an early fax machine. The x-ray machine was introduced at the fair and two other life saving medical inventions were prominently featured: the Finsen light and Infant Incubators. In the world of transportation, air travel and electric streetcars were both highlighted, but it was the first showing of the personal automobile which created the most buzz.

Yet there was one innovation which, more than any others, captured the imagination of a nation and was destined to be steeped in controversy and take on the qualities of an urban legend. The invention: the ice cream cone.

According to the Infallible Wikipedia, here’s the story:

“Edible cones were patented by two entrepreneurs, both Italian, separately in the years 1902 and 1903. Antonio Valvona, an ice cream merchant from Manchester, UK, patented a biscuit cup producing machine in 1902, and in 1903, Italo Marchioni, an italian ice cream salesman, filed for the patent of a machine which made ice cream containers.

At the St. Louis World’s Fair in 1904, a Syrian/Lebanese concessionaire named Arnold Fornachou was running an ice cream booth. When he ran short on paper cups, he noticed he was next to a waffle vendor by the name of Ernest Hamwi, who sold Fornachou some of his waffles. Fornachou rolled the waffles into cones to hold the ice cream – and this is believed by some (although there is much dispute) to be the moment where ice-cream cones became mainstream.

Abe Doumar and the Doumar family can also claim credit for the ice cream cone. At the age of 16, Doumar began to sell paperweights and other items. One night, he bought a waffle from another vendor transplanted to Norfolk, Virginia from Ghent in Belgium, Leonidas Kestekidès. Doumar proceeded to roll up the waffle and place a scoop of ice cream on top. He then began selling the cones at the St. Louis Exposition. His “cones” were such a success that he designed a four-iron baking machine and had a foundry make it for him. At the Jamestown Exposition in 1907, he and his brothers sold nearly twenty-three thousand cones. After that, Abe bought a semiautomatic 36-iron machine, which produced 20 cones per minute and opened Doumar’s Drive In in Norfolk, Virginia, which still operates at the same location over 100 years later.^”

While the Ice Cream cone does not appear to have been ‘invented’ at the fair, it certainly gained a foothold in popular culture. With the advent of electricity, ice cream – once a delicacy only for the wealthy – became a mainstay for the average person; an affordable treat during a Saturday outing.

Over the years, of course, refrigeration – one of the top 3 inventions ever (the other two are electricity and flushing toilets) in my opinion – made it possible for people to have ice cream stored in their freezer at home. The ability to buy the ice cream and commercially made cones at the local grocer completed the deal.

Personally, I love ice cream cones. I will always choose to have my ice cream in a cone if one is available. As a child I recall that my mother used to purchase the cake style cones and we usually had a choice between vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream.

waflet cones Then, probably in the early 1970’s, my mother came home from the store one day with colored cake cones. In addition to the boring beige, there were the exciting colors of green, pink, and brown. But even more exciting was the ice cream. It was called chocolate marble and it was an instant favorite. Swirled into the vanilla were ribbons of chocolaty fudge. Now that was an ice cream cone.

Over the years I’ve tried various flavors when at an ice cream shop: Blueberry, Huckleberry, Strawberry cheesecake to name a few… and those are all delicious. But nothing can ever beat a Vanilla chocolate swirl waffle cone. It’s the best.

The links for today:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ice_cream_cone

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louisiana_Purchase_Exposition

History of Ice Cream Cone

Diary of a Young Girl

Mar12

March 12, 2019

Required reading for all junior high students in the 1970’s, Anne Frank: Diary of a Young Girl, both inspired and dismayed.

Margot and Anne Frank

Although the exact date of the 15 year old’s death is in question, March 12, 1945, is designated as such.

While I tend to avoid controversial and depressing topics, there is no question that this book ranks within the top tier of the most important works of the 20^th century and deserves recognition as such.

Anne Frank lived in the Netherlands on June 12, 1942 – her 13^th birthday – along with her parents and sister. It was on that date she was given her first ‘diary.’ From the Infallible Wikipedia:

“During the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands, Anne Frank received a blank diary the diary as one of her presents on June 12, 1942, her 13th birthday. According to the Anne Frank House, the red, checkered autograph book which Anne used as her diary was actually not a surprise, since she had chosen it the day before with her father when browsing a bookstore near her home. She began to write in it on June 14, 1942, two days later.

On July 5, 1942, Anne’s older sister Margot received an official summons to report to a Nazi work camp in Germany, and on July 6, Margot and Anne went into hiding with their father Otto and mother Edith. They were joined by Hermann van Pels, Otto’s business partner, including his wife Auguste and their teenage son Peter. Their hiding place was in the sealed-off upper rooms of the annex at the back of Otto’s company building in Amsterdam. Otto Frank started his business, named Opekta, in 1933. He was licensed to manufacture and sell pectin, a substance used to make jam. He stopped running his business while everybody was in hiding. But once he returned, he found his employees running it. The rooms that everyone hid in were concealed behind a movable bookcase in the same building as Opekta. Mrs. van Pels’s dentist, Fritz Pfeffer, joined them four months later. In the published version, names were changed: The van Pelses are known as the Van Daans, and Fritz Pfeffer as Albert Dussel. With the assistance of a group of Otto Frank’s trusted colleagues, they remained hidden for two years and one month.”

The family and the others were discovered in August 1944 and taken to concentration camps. It was in the Bergen-Belsan camp where Anne, who contracted Typhus, and her sister both died. Of the hidden group, only Otto Frank survived. Those who concealed the family found and saved her diaries and gave the books to her father. It was he who got them published. interior pages of diary

I can’t say exactly when I was first required to read the book, but no doubt it was in junior high (middle school to Americans under the age of 40). The timing of it coincided with when I became obsessed with keeping a diary. Perhaps I had visions of my musings being enshrined forever in a similar manner. Young teenage girls are, particularly, susceptible to drama and tragedy. Unlike Anne Frank, however, my diary entries included such riveting entries such as this one:

“March 1 (1972)

Well here we go again another month gone by. I’m 14 years, 7 months today. It was strange today we have had about four inches of snow, oh joy! I felt like I was being watched. We had a meeting at Mrs. Hughey’s this evening. We started Co-education volleyball in P.E. but I didn’t take it because I can’t, doctor’s orders. Yea! It can’t be that bad but if you take a look at last year’s diary today, you’d understand!”

Even I, the author of the above passage, have no idea what a couple of the references are about. I do know that playing co-ed volleyball when you have the coordination and look of a newborn colt is about the worse torture you can inflict on a teenage girl. The reason I couldn’t play volleyball is that I was still recovering from a nine day case of the hard measles. (We didn’t have a measles vaccination then… get your kids vaccinated. Trust me on this) While I was sick I lost approximately 10 pounds… weight I already could not afford to lose since I was, according to the identification pages at the front of my diary, 5’7” and 110 pounds. Yes, the colt reference is accurate. And, apparently, getting snow in early March isn’t that uncommon either.

This author’s diaries. 1972 is on top.

What I do know is that the keeping of a diary galvanized for me a thing which has been a lifelong passion: to write. My musings – set in an easier time in history – will never carry the same weight and warnings of Anne Frank. I’m okay with that. The five years of books which I still have are reminder enough that being a teenager is an awkward and difficult time in life. Anne Frank’s diaries – despite being written under the most challenging of circumstances – still ring true as to the thoughts and emotions of a girl on the cusp of becoming a woman.

For more about Anne Frank and her diary, a couple of links:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Diary_of_a_Young_Girl

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Frank

Beware Hitchhikers!

Feb26

February 26, 2019

When one thinks of the most spectacular places in the world, this location is always near the top of the list. The nearly 5 million visitors a year who trek to its rim, no doubt, help to confirm this impression. Tomorrow, February 26, 2019, marks a century since it was designated as the 17^th National Park in the United States. Happy 100^th birthday to the Grand Canyon! Grand Canyon retro poster

Its statistics and early history, from the Infallible Wikipedia, are as follows:

“The Grand Canyon is a steep-sided canyon carved by the Colorado River in Arizona, United States. The Grand Canyon is 277 miles (446 km) long, up to 18 miles (29 km) wide and attains a depth of over a mile (6,093 feet or 1,857 meters).(snip)

… Nearly two billion years of Earth’s geological history have been exposed as the Colorado River and its tributaries cut their channels through layer after layer of rock while the Colorado Plateau was uplifted. While some aspects about the history of incision of the canyon are debated by geologists, several recent studies support the hypothesis that the Colorado River established its course through the area about 5 to 6 million years ago. Since that time, the Colorado River has driven the down-cutting of the tributaries and retreat of the cliffs, simultaneously deepening and widening the canyon.

For thousands of years, the area has been continuously inhabited by Native Americans, who built settlements within the canyon and its many caves. The Pueblo people considered the Grand Canyon a holy site, and made pilgrimages to it. The first European known to have viewed the Grand Canyon was García López de Cárdenas from Spain, who arrived in 1540.”

It’s one thing to read about a place in an article or even to see a program on TV or in a theatre. Only when experienced first hand, however, does the grandeur of The Grand Canyon hit you and inspire you to marvel that such a place could exist. grand canyon sunset

In the one time I visited, I learned a valuable lesson. Do not pick up hitchhikers.

When the Hubby and I visited the Grand Canyon in July 1982 we did just that although we didn’t know it at the time. Our road trip – which took us on an over 3000 mile two week adventure – led us to the north rim of the Grand Canyon. Because we were in the National Forest they allowed you, at that time, to camp outside of developed campgrounds. We found a lovely spot not too far from the Canyon rim, pitched our tent and ‘roughed’ it for the night. There was no picnic table or shelter. It was just us, our Honda Civic wagon, and our tent.

The next morning we were up early with the intention of driving to the South rim to visit the National Park. By this point in our trip, however, we were tired of sleeping on the ground and it was time to head home. So we drove the 215 miles to the visitor center, looked down into the gaping hole that is the Grand Canyon and called it good. Then we drove across Arizona, over the Hoover Dam, and up through Nevada to Las Vegas.

It was close to 8 p.m. and we’d been up since 6 a.m. I lobbied to stay the night in Sin City but the Hubby made a really valid point. It was, literally, still 108 degrees outside and he did NOT want to be driving across the Nevada desert during the heat of the day. So we continued north. The sun set and we switched drivers. I was now at the wheel, speeding across Nevada in the dark. And I was feeling a bit sleepy. Because we were young and foolish we kept driving despite our fatigue. We had the windows rolled down so the relatively cooler air would cool us and keep us awake. This seemed to work pretty well until around 11 p.m. or so when I noticed something was moving on the dashboard. At first I thought it was the rag that the Hubby kept there to wipe the dust and film from the insides of the window. Then, when the ‘rag’ moved again, I screamed and proceeded to stop the car in the middle of US Highway 95. By this time the Hubby, of course, suggested in a rather firm way that perhaps I should pull over to the side of the road. Which I somehow managed to do, despite my fear there was a snake or a giant spider in the car.

Doors flew open. Overhead lights illuminated. There we were, unloading the car in the middle of the night in the Nevada desert. Out came the cooler and the bags of food and clothes. We were about to start on everything stored in back when our hitchhiker revealed his (her?) identity: a deer mouse. deermouse

Around the interior of the car our guest scurried and, we were sure, was more frightened of us beating on the backs of seats, than we were of it. I guess it decided that we were no longer the friendly hosts we had been since he got in while we camped on the north rim of the Grand Canyon some 700 miles earlier. The mouse leaped from the car and scurried across the highway into the night.

The adrenaline rush provided me with an alertness which lasted another hour or so before I needed to sleep. The Hubby took over the wheel once again and he made it until about two a.m. when he parked on the side of the road and we both slept in the seats of the car until sometime after sunrise. Later that day we discovered that our guest had chewed through a sleeve of saltine crackers, gnawing off the corner of every single one. I hope he enjoyed his meal because we threw out the rest. And did I mention we were young and foolish? We did what young and foolish people do – we drove all the way back to Seattle that day. It was an epic road trip.

As always, a couple of links:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Canyon

https://www.nps.gov/grca/planyourvisit/index.htm

The Great Seattle Snowstorm of 1916: Remembering the Snowpocalypse

Feb5

No Snow Event has come close in the past 100-plus years

February 5

A Tuesday Newsday Classic Updated

It really should not come as a surprise when snow arrives in the Puget Sound region the first week of February. It could be worse, however, if one looks back in time. The year was 1916 and on February 5th of that year, the Puget Sound region was still reeling from a heavy snowfall which began late on January 31^st. It was a 24 hour period from February 1st to 2nd, however, which produced a whopping 21 and half inches of the white stuff. That record snowfall still stands.

Union Street in Seattle as viewed from 9th Avenue, February 1916. Photo from University of Washington Libraries, Special Collections (link below)

The Infallible Wikipedia gives us but a brief glimpse of that event:

“From January 31 to February 2, 1916, another heavy snow event occurred with 29 in (74 cm) of snow on the ground by the time the event was over.”

However, it does link to a more comprehensive article from HistoryLink.org which, I’ve found over the years, provides excellent coverage of Seattle history minutiae. From the article:

“When the big snow of 1916 began to fall on a cold Monday on January 31, 1916, there may have been more cameras than shovels in the hands of amateurs. The flurry of snapshots of our second greatest snowstorm illustrate snow-stopped streetcars, closed schools, closed libraries, closed theaters, closed bridges, a clogged waterfront, collapsed roofs, and — most sensationally — the great dome of St. James Cathedral, which landed in a heap in the nave and choir of the sanctuary. (There were no injuries to persons.)

The unusually cold January already had 23 inches of snow on the ground when, on the last day of the month, it began to fall relentlessly. Between 5 p.m. on Tuesday, February 1 and 5 p.m. on Wednesday, February 2, 21.5 inches accumulated in the Central Business District at the Weather Bureau in the Hoge Building. This remains (in 2002) a record — our largest 24-hour pile.

James street as viewed down 9th Avenue. Smith Tower – then the tallest building in Seattle – is on the left. February 1916. Photo from the University of Washington Libraries, Special Collections (link below)

The 1916 snow was a wet snow, and it came to a foul end — a mayhem of mud that mutilated bridges and carried away homes.”

In the category of how quickly we forget, it was in 2017 that the record for snowfall on any February 5th was set when two inches was recorded at Sea-Tac airport. An additional 5.1 inches fell on February 6th for a total of 7.1 inches on these two dates. Then in 2019 and again in 2021, the Puget Sound was hit with two fairly large snow events in February.

What I wrote on the morning of February 4, 2019: “Since the hubby and I moved north from the greater Seattle area in 2018, I cannot accurately compare the amount of snow from our old house to the one here in Mount Vernon. As of this morning we have between 3 and 4 inches and it is still snowing. The view from my office window – with a little wind in play – gives the appearance of being in a powdery snow globe.”

I cannot complain about Puget Sound snow, however. This region has some of the mildest weather in the world and I think of the white stuff as a wondrous treat to be enjoyed. Ensconced in my warm house with a morning cup of coffee – or later in the day with a mug of hot buttered rum – the beautiful coat of white is a magical event.

Too soon the temperatures will rise, the snow will melt, and we will be back to the brown and green scenery which characterizes a Puget Sound winter. One thing I do know is that within a few short weeks, the plum and cherry tree blossoms will erupt in shades of violet and pink and carpets of purple, yellow and white crocus will spread across the landscape. All we will recall from winter will be a few short days in February when the landscape was transformed into a winter wonderland.

On February 4, 2019, this was the view out my office window. Four days later the Puget Sound region was slammed with over 6 inches more.

Interesting perspective on the February 5/6 2017 event:

http://www.seattleweatherblog.com/snow/biggest-february-snowstorm-generation-wallops-seattle/

An article which highlights the biggest Puget Sound snowstorms:

http://www.historylink.org/File/3681

Some great historic photos of the February 1916 snowstorm:

http://archiveswest.orbiscascade.org/ark:/80444/xv07321

*The February 8, 2019 snow event which gave us about six inches.*

*The February 13, 2021 Snowstorm which dumped just over a foot of snow in Mount Vernon*.

… Riding a Roller Coaster

Jun26

Astroland Cyclone

June 26, 2018

When one thinks of amusement park rides, it’s none other than the roller coaster which has been firmly etched on the psyche of the American. It was in 1884 when the first Coney Island coaster – known as The Switchback Railway – opened.

Over the years Coney Island was truly ground zero for amusement rides, especially the roller coaster.

It was on June 26, 1927 when the Cyclone coaster opened, providing thrills for generations:

From the Infallible Wikipedia:

“The Cyclone sits at the corner of Surf Avenue and West 10th Street. The track is 2,640 feet (800 m) long (including six fan turns and twelve drops) and the lift hill is 85-foot (26 m) tall at its highest point; the first drop is at a 58.1 degree angle. It has three trains of three eight-person cars; one train can run at a time. The ride’s top speed is 60 miles per hour (97 km/h) and it takes about one minute and fifty seconds. “

When one looks at a photo of the Cyclone it truly is the iconic image of the wooden coaster.

The coaster underwent a complete renovation in 1974-75 with its deteriorating wooden structure being replaced with steel.

In 1991 it was declared a National Historic landmark and still operates to this day.

I have no amusing story of riding the Cyclone but I will say that I’m no longer as big a fan of roller coasters as I once was. The last high speed coaster I rode was California Screamin’ at the California Adventure (adjacent to Disneyland) and swore I’d never ride one that wild again. I would, however, ride either of my two favorite roller coasters, both at Disneyland: Big Thunder Railroad and The Matterhorn Bobsleds.

What’s fun about those is that the ride goes fast enough to provide a bit of a thrill but they also incorporate a story into the ride.

When you ride the Matterhorn, according to the promotional Disney website, you will:

“Break out of the side of the mountain and race down the base of the peak. Swoop in and out of shadowy caves and along jagged rocky ledges. Throttle through icy chutes and around frozen precipices. Whisk across wooden and stone bridges, pass under waterfalls and weave around mysteriously glowing ice crystals before splashing down in a shallow alpine lake.

But the real peril is not the snow or sleet. Folklore has it that a growling monster known as the Abominable Snowman lives inside the mountain—and that he will do anything and everything to protect his home.”

And it is fun to nearly run in to the Yette around many a corner, his glowing eyes and menacing roar adding to the charm of the speedy bobsled descent.

The same is true of Big Thunder Railroad (BTRR). The ride utilizes entertaining elements: an abandoned, bat filled mine, goats on the tracks, and the threat of a tunnel collapse, to add to the adventure. The interesting thing about this ride is that the ride has evolved over the years.

mine train Rainbow geyser.jpg When I first visited Disneyland in the summer of 1970, the ride, called “Mine Train through Nature’s Wonderland,” was a sedate meander through an array of western landscapes including mountains, deserts, and geyser basins. My parents, my sister and I enjoyed the ride at the time, not realizing that it was destined to be re-purposed. The ride was closed in early 1977 and reopened as a roller coaster in September 1979.

My first experience on BTRR was as an adult with my hubby in the early 1980’s. We both loved the ride and every trip to Disneyland in subsequent years ALWAYS required at least one spin on Big Thunder Railroad: fast enough to be exciting but not so fast as to give you whiplash. Exactly my sort of roller coaster.

For more information on The Cyclone:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coney_Island_Cyclone

And about the former Mine Train Attraction:

https://www.yesterland.com/minetrain.html

And the Matterhorn Bobsleds:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matterhorn_Bobsleds

Anastasia

Jun5

A Royal Mystery Solved

June 5, 2018

Hers was a story which inspired novels, movies and mini-series and, for 89 years, the question remained: had she survived?

Romanov-307824 (2) The woman in question was Anastasia Nikolaevna, better known as the Grand Duchess, daughter of the last Russian Tsar Nicholas II. She was born on June 5, 1901.

No doubt most people know how the Tsar and all his family were murdered by the Bolsheviks in August 1918. Yet rumors persisted for years that the youngest daughter of the family, Anastasia, somehow survived the event. From the Infallible Wikipedia:

“Rumors of Anastasia’s survival were embellished with various contemporary reports of trains and houses being searched for ‘Anastasia Romanov’ by Bolshevik soldiers and secret police. When she was briefly imprisoned at Perm in 1918, Princess Helena Petrovna, the wife of Anastasia’s distant cousin, Prince John Constantinovich of Russia, reported that a guard brought a girl who called herself Anastasia Romanova to her cell and asked if the girl was the daughter of the Tsar. Helena Petrovna said she did not recognize the girl and the guard took her away.”

anastasia_anna_franziska_thumb To add to the intrigue, no less than ten women claimed to have been Anastasia. The most famous was a woman by the name of Anna Anderson who insisted she was the Grand Duchess until the day she died.

It was technology which paved the way for the puzzle to be solved. Although Anderson died in 1984, DNA testing on some kept pieces of her tissue in 1994 told the truth: she was not Anastasia.

The rumors that Anastasia – and possibly others – survived the execution were fueled by the very people who had killed them. Fearing backlash from Germany and damage to a recently signed peace treaty, the Russians told the Germans that the royal women had been moved to a safer location.

With those assurances – and no way to prove or disprove the claim – rumors persisted. The first Anastasia ‘sightings’ cropped up shortly thereafter.

After the fall of the Soviet Union it was revealed that the burial site of the family had been discovered in 1991. Was the mystery finally solved? Also from the Infallible Wikipedia:

“However, on 23 August 2007, a Russian archaeologist announced the discovery of two burned, partial skeletons at a bonfire site near Yekaterinburg that appeared to match the site described in Yurovsky’s memoirs. The archaeologists said the bones were from a boy who was roughly between the ages of ten and thirteen years at the time of his death and of a young woman who was roughly between the ages of eighteen and twenty-three years old. Anastasia was seventeen years and one month old at the time of the assassination, while her sister Maria was nineteen years, one month old and her brother Alexei was two weeks shy of his fourteenth birthday. Anastasia’s elder sisters Olga and Tatiana were twenty-two and twenty-one years old respectively at the time of the assassination. Along with the remains of the two bodies, archaeologists found ‘shards of a container of sulfuric acid, nails, metal strips from a wooden box, and bullets of various caliber’. The site was initially found with metal detectors and by using metal rods as probes.

DNA testing by multiple international laboratories such as the Armed Forces DNA Identification Laboratory and Innsbruck Medical University confirmed that the remains belong to the Tsarevich Alexei and to one of his sisters, proving conclusively that all family members, including Anastasia, died in 1918. The parents and all five children are now accounted for, and each has his or her own unique DNA profile.”

And thus ended years of questions and impostors and the mystery of Anastasia turned out not to be a mystery after all.

Last year for my birthday my sister and niece gave me a DNA kit. I think it’s about time I take a swab and send it in since I’m pretty certain I must be related to royalty somewhere. Not the Grand Duchess perhaps but some nice British royalty would be good. I’m still unhappy that I didn’t receive an invite to Harry and Meghan’s wedding.

For more on Anastasia and also Anna Anderson, two links:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Duchess_Anastasia_Nikolaevna_of_Russia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anna_Anderson

Soaring High in a Hot Air Balloon

Nov21

November 21, 2017

From the moment people could harness their imaginations, there has been no greater desire than to be able to soar like birds, high above the ground. Today, of course, we find air travel utilitarian and, perhaps, a bit mundane. But on November 21, 1783, it was anything but mundane when two Frenchmen, Jean-François Pilâtre deRozier and the Marquis d’Arlandes, became the first humans to travel in a ship through the ‘air.’

DeRozier balloon

DeRozier can credibly be dubbed the father of flight. He became interested in chemicals, specifically gases and how they reacted and interacted; he parlayed his obsession to a career as a teacher and scientist and, as such, opened a museum for nobles to come and witness his experiments.

When, in June 1783, he observed a tethered balloon ‘flight’ of a duck, a sheep and a cockerel, his desire to fly was ignited.

From the Infallible Wikipedia:

“After several tethered tests to gain some experience of controlling the balloon, DeRozier and d’Arlandes made their first un-tethered flight in a Montgolfier hot air balloon on 21 November 1783, taking off at around 2 p.m. from the garden of the Château de la Muette in the Bois de Boulogne, in the presence of the King. Their 25-minute flight travelled slowly about 5½ miles (some 9 km) to the southeast, attaining an altitude of 3,000 feet, before returning to the ground at the Butte-aux-Cailles, then on the outskirts of Paris.”

By all accounts, DeRozier was fearless and continued his experiments with what we know as ‘hot air balloons.’ Several successful balloon flights followed and, in June 1785, he took on his most ambitious journey which was to travel from France to England across the English Channel. Because of the distance involved, DeRozier determined that using just hot air (powered by stoves set up in the balloon basket!) would not be enough to make the journey. Instead he developed his own balloon – called the DeRozier Balloon – which was powered by use of hydrogen fuel to heat the air. By all accounts it should have worked. But a sudden change in wind direction pushed the balloon back, and caused it to rapidly deflate. It plummeted 1500 feet to the ground, killing DeRozier and the two others onboard. Rozier death

The accident ended the adventurer’s life and research, but the “modern hybrid gas and hot air balloon is named the Rozière balloon after his pioneering design.”

So the next time you fly remember how very far air travel has advanced in just 234 years.

Update November 21, 2020: I was so very fortunate to attend the Albuquerque Balloon Festival in 2018. What an incredible experience! It was a visual feast of balloons. Although I did not get to ride in one, it was fascinating to watch as wave after wave of balloons puffed up to life and lifted into the sky. If you ever have a chance to attend such an event, I highly recommend it.

To read more about DeRozier and balloon flight:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean-Fran%C3%A7ois_Pil%C3%A2tre_de_Rozier

And a general history of Balloon flight: http://bellestar.org/faq/default.html

A link to the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta: https://balloonfiesta.com/

*The hubby and I at the Albuquerque Balloon festival 2018.*

*So many whimsical balloons like this penguin.*

The Tale of Galloping Gertie

Nov7

The Tacoma Narrows Bridge

November 7, 2017

Galloping Gertie Gif Last week we explored the world of horseracing and author Dick Francis. This week we will be discussing galloping. But unlike how a horse gallops, this galloping took place on November 7, 1940 and has since become a text-book example of what NOT to do when building a bridge.

We are talking, of course, about the Tacoma Narrows Bridge which sank on this date. It was dubbed ‘Galloping Gertie’ as even the most gentle of breezes would cause the roadway to sway. I can only imagine the feeling of unease one had when driving over the structure.

For a local newsman it proved terrifying. From the infallible Wikipedia:

“Leonard Coatsworth, a Tacoma News Tribune editor, was the last person to drive on the bridge:

‘Around me I could hear concrete cracking. I started back to the car to get the dog, but was thrown before I could reach it. The car itself began to slide from side to side on the roadway. I decided the bridge was breaking up and my only hope was to get back to shore.

‘On hands and knees most of the time, I crawled 500 yards or more to the towers… My breath was coming in gasps; my knees were raw and bleeding, my hands bruised and swollen from gripping the concrete curb… Toward the last, I risked rising to my feet and running a few yards at a time… Safely back at the toll plaza, I saw the bridge in its final collapse and saw my car plunge into the Narrows.’”

The bridge had opened only four months earlier! In reading about everything that went wrong the biggest mistake seemed to have been that in a desire to save money on what was perceived as a bridge which would be lightly used, the design was flawed from the beginning.

Ultimately they determined the bridge failure was due to ‘aeroelastic flutter’. Unless, of course, you are an engineer the term means little. The film of the event for us laypeople, however, reveals a structure bucking like an unbroken stallion during its first ride.

hood canal bridge Although I was not around in 1940, I was going to school in Tacoma on February 13, 1979 when another bridge met the same fate as Galloping Gertie. It was then when I grasped the power of a Pacific Northwest windstorm. During the night prior to its sinking, sustained winds of 85 mph buffeted the Hood Canal floating bridge . They estimated gusts up to 120 mph (called a ‘hurricane’ most anyplace else as any sustained wind over 72 mph is classified as such) had occurred. The structure was swamped and at 7 a.m. that dark, windy and rainy morning, the bridge sank.

I90 November 25 1990 Fast forward to November of 1990 and yet a third Washington state bridge met a similar doom. We watched in fascinated horror live TV news on the morning of November 25^th as the floating bridge – being resurfaced to continue carrying traffic while a new span was constructed – which connected Mercer Island to Seattle was inundated. As my husband no doubt said at the time: “surf’s up!”

In the 30 plus years I’ve lived in Western Washington there are a couple things you can count on me doing. First, I will do anything I can to avoid driving in windstorms. I’ll drive in rain, snow, sleet and dark of night but the wind stops me. Second, I will move to the northeast corner of any structure, especially one with nearby tall trees. The worst winds hale from the southwest so if a tree is going to come down it will fall from that direction. When we still lived in Kirkland, my family knew that a heavy wind meant ‘going to the mattresses’ and sleeping on the floor of the living room as far from the trees as possible.

Now that we are in windstorm ‘season’ remember to batten your hatches when the wind blows and you just might want to avoid driving on bridges.

As always some interesting links PLUS a video from the Washington State History museum which tells the entire Galloping Gertie story.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tacoma_Narrows_Bridge_(1940)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pacific_Northwest_windstorm

http://www.wsdot.wa.gov/TNBhistory/Connections/connections3.htm

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KqqyAZDpV6c

Galloping Gertie after her historic collapse

The Beard Tax

Sep5

September 5, 2017

Peter the Great

While September 5, 1882, marks the first Labor Day celebration, there was, in fact, a much more momentous occurrence on this date. It was on September 5, 1698 that Russian Tzar, Peter the Great, decreed a tax be collected on all men who bore a beard.

In 1698 Russia that was, well, pretty much every man who lived there. Peter’s goal was to modernize his country but those pesky peasants – and more than a few merchants, civic leaders and courtiers – believed there was a religious component to the growing and wearing of facial hair.

Not to be deterred, he put the tax in place and then commanded the police to enforce it. From the infallible Wikipedia:

“To enforce the ban on beards, the tsar empowered police to forcibly and publicly shave those who refused to pay the tax. Resistance to going clean shaven was widespread with many believing that it was a religious requirement for a man to wear a beard. The tax levied depended upon the status of the bearded man: Those associated with the Imperial Court, military, or government were charged 60 rubles annually; wealthy merchants were charged 100 rubles per year while other merchants and townsfolk were charged 60 rubles per year; Muscovites were charged 30 rubles per year; and peasants were charged two half-kopeks every time they entered a city.”

Once the tax was paid the man received a beard token as proof he had complied with the law. The coin bore the Russian double eagle on one side and the lower part of a face featuring nose, mouth, whiskers and beard on the obverse. A variety of tokens were minted during the years the tax was in place. It was not lifted until 1772, seventy-four years after institution!

Beard Tax Token

As to Peter the Great’s original goal – to make Russia a more modern nation by the standards of his time – he was largely successful. He established compulsory education, strengthened the military, increased Russia’s land holdings, and European dress and customs were adopted.

For more information on the beard tax and on Peter The Great, click on these links: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beard_tax

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_the_Great

Hernando de Soto vs. The Crimson Tide

May30

May 30, 2017

According to the “Today in History” site it was on May 30, 1539, when explorer Hernando de Soto landed near Tampa Bay, Florida. Being that it was almost June and not January, de Soto didn’t spend long there. After all, Disney World would not be carved from the alligator infested swamp lands until October, 1971, 432 years later. And June in Florida is rather hot and humid, so I can’t really blame him for not wanting to be there that time of year. Who would?

De Soto is an interesting explorer. Sponsored by Spain his mission appears to have been to claim what was to become the United States for the mother country. He left Florida and meandered about the south through Georgia, South Carolina and Tennessee. Things were going okay until he got to Alabama where he encountered a rather hostile group of native people. According to the infallible Wikipedia:

“De Soto’s expedition spent another month in the Coosa chiefdom before turning south toward the Gulf of Mexico to meet two ships bearing fresh supplies from Havana. Along the way, de Soto was led into Mauvila (or Mabila), a fortified city in southern Alabama. The Mobilian tribe, under Chief Tuskaloosa, ambushed de Soto’s army. Other sources suggest de Soto’s men were attacked after attempting to force their way into a cabin occupied by Tuskaloosa. The Spaniards fought their way out, and retaliated by burning the town to the ground. During the nine-hour encounter, about 200 Spaniards died, and 150 more were badly wounded, according to the chronicler Elvas. Twenty more died during the next few weeks. They killed an estimated 2,000-6,000 warriors at Mabila, making the battle one of the bloodiest in recorded North American history.”

gators vs tide De Soto was, it seemed the first team to face the mighty Crimson Tide. The Spaniards escaped to Mississippi but their quest for a national championship was doomed. Their bad luck continued and they were plagued by more unhappy natives, disease and lack of supplies. De Soto, committed to his mission, eventually was stopped by the Big Muddy near what is the happy sounding, present day, Sunflower Landing, Mississippi. He saw that body of water as a pain in the neck, keeping him from his westward march for domination. His relationship with the Mississippi River did not end well. No, it wasn’t the natives who killed him nor did he drown in the river. Instead it was a fever. He died May 21, 1542 in a native village on the western banks of the river near present day MacArthur, Arkansas.

It ended up that it was the stodgy British who, seventy years later, successfully established colonies in the new world. But those people had to live in Massachusetts in the winter since cheap flights to Florida were not yet a thing. I would have been stodgy too.

For more about the life of Hernando de Soto: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hernando_de_Soto

For more about alligators (because they fascinate me and it’s kinda freaky to think, if the urban legend is true, that EVERY pond, lake, roadside ditch and swamp in Florida contains at least one), click this link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_alligator

From weekly blogger to published author, I share my musings on life, love, and the stories which inspire me.

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