Category Archives: American History

A Useful Myth

Arguing for the goodness of his vast wealth, Andrew Carnegie, in 1889 proffered society is all the better for the existence of the rich. He stated that God had given him the talent to make money, and he would use his God-given talent to it’s full extent. This steel baron continued that the prosperity of the few, like himself, lifts the standard of living for all citizens. Shorthand for his philosophy, let the rich get richer because it’s good for everybody.

Economist and social critic Henry George took issue with Carnegie’s premise. In rebuttal George insisted that in no way did concentrated wealth help anyone except the rich. Carnegie’s Gospel of Wealth was in fact a myth, and useful one for oppressing the lower classes. Where Carnegie argued the betterment of people, George countered a wedge had been forced through society, crushing the poor into oblivion. 

In our time Carnegie’s argument has permeated American culture, and has matastasized so deeply in our belief system, that the super rich are nearly worshipped. Today’s robber barons, Bezsos, Zuckerberg, Musk, Gates, and others are perceived as superior, breathing the rare air of the most blessed. These characters are untouchable.

In the tradition of Henry George the reality is something quite different. According to psychologists the super wealthy share strikingly similar characteristics. Obsession with money drives these individuals. Making money, keeping money, and making more money is an obsession. Appearances are everything and must be maintained at all times. The exhaustive race for money and rank distorts moral judgement, compassion, and empathy. Screwing others over is part of the game.

Another characteristic shared by the ultra rich is confidence and a capacity for risk, however I would argue that also describes gang leaders and con men. Most compelling is that these individuals are no happier for their efforts.

Like Henry George our culture needs to dispense with the idea of moral superiority among the wealthiest. God did not make these men rich no more than God make drunks drunks, and druggies, druggies. This is obsessive-compulsive behavior and should be seen as such.

As to charitable work among this crowd, remember the Sacklers made OxyContin, a ton of money, leading to thousands of American deaths, while donating millions to museums and universities. Clearly vast wealth does not require a moral compass, nor help the most vulnerable among us.

The Presbyterian in Scotland-born Carnegie knew his justification ran counter to his childhood faith. From the First Commandment’s “Thou shall have no other gods before me,” to Jesus’ “Verily I say unto you it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. This steel man betrayed and countered the tenets of his youth, creating the false god of money.

And Americans have been devout followers ever since.

Gail Chumbley is the author of the two part memoir River of January, and River of January: Figure Eight. She has also authored three stage plays, Clay, Wolf By The Ears, and Peer Review. Chumbley is the co-writer of Dancing On Air a screenplay based on her River books.

Peer Review Excerpt 2

This post comes from a full stage play titled Peer Review. It was composed during DJT’s first term and serves to illuminate the contrast to earlier presidencies.

SCENE TWO

The stage lightens in a mix of gold and white. A bed and two arm chairs made in the same colors sit center stage, The New York City skyline is projected on the back curtain. The sound of papparazzi and cameras snapping is heard offstage. An elevator dings. After a moment the President enters stage right with two men in suits wearing earpieces. The men walk around the area and bed. The President turns and speaks.

THE PRESIDENT
Call maintenance, that damn elevator shouldn’t stall between floors. That was a good ten minutes, dammit. I’m gone a few weeks and the building goes to hell. There’s nothing in here. Get out.

The men exit. The President removes his jacket, and walks to the dresser. He peers down in a drawer, then finds what he is looking for. A file of yellow and red.

Except this little gem and it’s really something.

He lies on the bed reading and chuckles happily. His cell phone plays “Hail To The Chief.” The President answers.

Where are you? I just got here, great crowd outside. Yeah, I’ll get it done. Hey, I said I’d do it. What do you mean you don’t trust me? Give me a break, That whole Stormy Daniels garbage is . . . No. Don’t hang up. We’ll sit down with the lawyers and renegotiate the whole deal. But then you will join me in DC, and the boy, too. This staying in New York is no good, makes me look bad to the country. Yeah, yeah, I’ll get Reince on it today. Hey, I said I will.

He tosses the phone on the bed and resumes reading.
Huh. Erdogan didn’t tell me this. How does the CIA find this crap out? I need some Putin-Ukraine stuff. Who woul’da thought I’d read something?

He chuckles, and soon grows sleepy. The President drops the open file and closes his eyes. After a moment a spot rises on a figure entering the stage.

He is tall, wearing a 18th Century blue and buff military uniform, knee breeches, white stockings and carries a sheathed saber. His white hair is combed back, and tied with a black ribbon at the nape of his neck. Standing near the bed, he speaks slowly with elegance.

THE GENERAL
I am very fond of New York City. During the War for Independence I maintained camp nearby for much of the duration.

The President sits upright, and reaches for a pillow to shield himself. He squeaks.

THE PRESIDENT

Shit!

THE GENERAL
Congress had directed me to burn Manhattan ahead of invading British Regulars. You see, Congress wished to leave nothing of use for the Redcoats. Destroying the city left me conflicted, and alas, that order I could not obey. As fate would have it, a fire did erupt in the chaos, demolishing vast tracts of the city. A very regrettable situation.

The General poses regally, glancing at the president. He continues.

Sometime later I returned to serve as President here in New York.

He gestures with his saber to the skyline.

Concerning the demands made upon me as I served those first critical years, none resolved easily, nor without great cost. But our fledgling nation teetered on dissolution and we, as the first government under new Constitution, had to stand resolute.

The President lowers his pillow to speak in a forced, but faltering menacing tone.

THE PRESIDENT
I don’t know who you are, or how you got in here, but this is my room, and my 30,000 square foot apartment, in my extremely valuable building. So clear out!

The General appears not to hear, serenely seating himself in an arm chair. He levels his gaze at The President.

THE GENERAL
My colleague said you were tiresome, however, I am staying.

THE PRESIDENT
Who said that? What colleague . . .oh, jeez, him. Well I’m important NOW. So you and that other fossil can beat it back to central casting.

THE GENERAL (Untroubled)

I, too struggled with grandiosity. In my youth I pined for the advantages of wealth and status that surrounded me. Stately mansions dotted the inlets and vast river systems of Tidewater Virginia, the place of my birth. I longed for a life of importance, gentility, and of wealth. I would be an English gentleman residing in elegance upon his landed estate.

THE PRESIDENT
The English are wusses, and you’ve blah blah’d enough. I’m in New York to get away from all that history garbage. That old dump where I have to stay is filled with that crap. So goodbye Rambo.

The General waits, then rises and un-sheaths his blade. The President again grasps his pillow. The General resumes his story.

THE GENERAL
Born the first son of a second family, I fell heir to nothing but my father’s name. Augustine and Lawrence, my older brothers, received all the honors of a gentleman’s life. I loved them, idolized them, especially dear Lawrence, and begrudged him nothing of his inheritance. However, I cannot deny the depth of my anguish as a second class Virginian.

THE PRESIDENT (To himself)

When my Father died I stuck it to my brother. He couldn’t handle money, the guy was a drunk.

THE GENERAL
Another temptation concerned a young matron, the wife of my best friend. Sally was her name, and I loved her very much. Our correspondence, especially while I served in the war against the French was perhaps too forward, and flirtatious. I longed for Sally, but she was not, nor ever could be mine.

The General sighs, deep in thought.

THE PRESIDENT
I never let any marriage license stop me. Mine or any available broad. That’s all they’re good for, arm candy and a roll.

THE GENERAL
We are all too aware of your misogyny, and absence of propriety. Even Mr. Kennedy said he attempted more discretion in his dalliances. I’m reminded of a letter from the Marquis de Lafayette informing me of his wife’s passion for me. Amused, I replied youthful women are inclined to youthful men, not those of graying hair. And still it is so.

The president sits up with his pillow on his lap.

THE PRESIDENT
Younger women love me. They really do. I’ve dated some beauties, too. You should see some of the pageant contestants I’ve bagged-and Playboy bunnies, too.

From the wing a soldier in Continental uniform approaches the General handing him a dispatch. The General reads the parchment, and marks it with a quill pen. The soldier leaves.

THE GENERAL
Sir, I do not believe ‘love’ is quite the term for what you’re describing. unbridled debauchery perhaps is more precise?

THE PRESIDENT

What the hell? How did he . . .?

THE GENERAL
It is the disciplined man who owns his passions. Decorum is what separates us from animals, wouldn’t you agree?

The president sits mouth agape at the soldier. The General continues.

THE GENERAL
Elegant balls were quite popular venues for young people to meet. I don’t mind saying that I may have been one of the finer dancers in the Tidewater. Those evenings were grand; dinners, music, and refinement in abundance. Oh, how I yearned to rise in social rank.

THE PRESIDENT
I hear ya. Those Manhattan snobs, that artsy-fartsy Met crowd, boxed me out. Treat my kids that way, too. Jerks.

THE GENERAL
Envy did little to further my integrity as a gentleman. In the war against the French the royal governor entrusted me to offer land patents to volunteers willing to join the Virginia militia. Over the course of the conflict I made many of those acres my own. You see land was the mark of a gentleman, but I was an imposter. That villainy has troubled me for an eternity. I pray my service to my nation has polished away some of the tarnish.

THE PRESIDENT
Don’t sweat it, business is business. Regulations are a pain in the ass. If you have an opening take it. Never hesitate. I’d a done the same thing.

The soldier-courier again appears on stage carrying more documents and a feather pen. The general agains peruses the contents, and marks the paper. The president raises his hands in a questioning gesture. The courier disappears.

THE PRESIDENT
There is a squadron of Secret Service out in that living room! How does that guy just walk in here?

THE GENERAL
Colonel Hamilton? He is a very clever young man. A great mind, that one. (Pauses) I disagree with your assessment of regulations. Had it not been for the rigor used to organize the army, particularly at Valley Forge, America would not exist. Good order was the key to eventual victory.

THE PRESIDENT
But you were the boss, right? You made the rules. Everyone I brought in has stabbed me in the back, didn’t follow my rules. Bunch of lowlife. Tillerson, Bolton, Mulvaney.

THE GENERAL
Perhaps those staff members possessed standards and realized you were not a leader worth following.

The president stands up outraged, the general stares him back down.

THE GENERAL
Those of my staff earned positions through merit. Tallmadge, Knox, and Hamilton, here, were gentlemen I trusted with my life. The hangers-on, the men who conspired for my command eventually revealed their ineptitude, and villainy. Those characters fell by the wayside.

THE PRESIDENT
A lot of people don’t realize this, but I don’t know American history. How did you win that war?

THE GENERAL
I never confronted the Regulars unless I had an advantage, like at Trenton, though I detested avoiding any fight. (Pauses) I kept the Continental Army together, and out of British hands. I knew the King could not fight forever. And I knew history was watching our every move, and we owed the future to never give up.

THE PRESIDENT
What the hell does that even mean? History watching! I could care less what happened before me, or when I go out.

THE GENERAL
And I am sorry for that, as will be your grandchildren. The family name is disgraced for all time. The rest of us, those whom I am representing, all understand this. Each chief executive found inspiration in taking part in something greater than ourselves. This, (he gestures toward the window) the United States of America has never been attempted before, a people’s government. The world is housed with predictable despots stealing from, and brutalizing the powerless.

THE PRESIDENT
Oh, come on, give me a break, everybody cheats and steals. Especially here in America.

THE GENERAL
Indeed. But we try to be better. We all have tried. President Chester Arthur felt you ought to know that he, too, served the monied interest. But once president, Mr. Arthur left the grift behind. Like the rest of us he found humility understanding all citizens, for all time would weigh his executive stewardship. He treasured America more than money and power.

The president slumps into a chair. He jabs a finger at the general, changes his mind and lowers his hand.

THE PRESIDENT
I didn’t take a salary. My people liked that, makes me look like a good guy.

THE GENERAL
All the while, behind the scenes, you pilfer on a grand scale. (The General glares) The Continental Army did not suffer want and cold at Valley Forge and Morristown for you to overcharge the federal government for lodging Secret Service at your resorts. Nor did they starve so guests at your Washington hotel could be egregiously overcharged.

The general continues to glare for a long moment and slowly cools down.

THE GENERAL
After Yorktown, and the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, hostilities slowly began to quiet. Royal ships, loaded with Redcoats set sail for England and our land stood liberated. Many difficulties remained such as discharging soldiers, and securing their long overdue pay for services nobly rendered.

The general again looks out at the New York skyline.

THE GENERAL
Word arrived that officers, also unpaid, had set into motion a plot to overthrow the slow-moving Congress and make me king. The ring leaders, encamped north of here in Newburg, awaited my arrival to complete the conspiracy.

THE PRESIDENT

King, huh? I like the sound of that.

THE GENERAL
As I had hoped the plot came to nothing, and that is when I resigned my commission and returned home to Mount Vernon.

THE PRESIDENT
Resigned? Went home! What is wrong with you? You had the whole deal on a plate!

THE GENERAL
Why? Because I am an American. We have no need of kings here, and I longed for home, longed for my wife and family. I’d been away for seven years and I yearned for my farm.

THE PRESIDENT
You could’a had the whole country at your feet and you went home to your farm? Gave up power for cowpies and dirt?

THE GENERAL
“’Tis not in mortals to command success. But we’ll do more, Sempronius, we’ll deserve it. When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway, the post of honor is a private station.”

The general sits down on the edge of the bed. The president, in his bed again clutches his pillow closer.

THE GENERAL
It’s a quote from my favorite stage play, Addison’s “Cato.” As Julius Caesar amassed growing power in the Roman empire, Cato the Younger, a lover of Republican virtue, stood in opposition to Caesar’s tyrannical grasp. When Cato could not accept life under extravagance and corruption he took his own life rather than submit to depravity.

The president stifles a yawn, shakes his head to clear it then speaks.

THE PRESIDENT

I liked the musical, “Cats.”

THE GENERAL
This work had a deep impact upon me and upon my generation. Patrick Henry’s “Give me liberty” quote reflects lines from the play, as does poor Nathan Hale’s last words regretting to have “only one life to give for his country.” During our miserable winter camp at Valley Forge I saw to it the play was performed for the men. We too, were confronting an extravagant and tyrannical empire.

The general rises and returns to the window.

THE GENERAL
And that is why I returned home. My duty had been fulfilled, and my services were no longer required.

The courier returns, this time in civilian garb, the general removes his hat, pistol, and sword. He examines the paperwork, scribbles, and the courier departs. The president stands, holding his pillow, watching the courier, then shrugs. He moves back to his bed.

THE PRESIDENT
Now just hold on. You, I mean, you’re the guy who became president, right? The first one?

THE GENERAL

Yes.

THE PRESIDENT
You should’a just grabbed power in the first place. People wouldn’t have cared. I can say or do anything, and my people love me for it. They’re a sad bunch of losers, really.

THE GENERAL
America did not, and does not now, need a king. I only returned to the public arena because my country called. An uprising in Western Massachusetts pitted war veterans against the state legislature in Boston. Vessels exchanged gunfire on rivers over navigation rights-Americans were battling Americans, again.

The general approaches the president who places his pillow over his face.

THE GENERAL
In Philadelphia a convention was set by Mr. Madison, and Colonel Hamilton to strengthen the national government. Though I was weary, short of funds, and reluctant to leave Mount Vernon, I eventually consented to join the assemblage.

The president lowers his pillow and speaks.

THE PRESIDENT

That sounds boring. But farming sounds boring, too.

THE GENERAL
America’s future rested upon what you term as boring. (He pauses) Though stifling hot that Philadelphia summer, with tempers running high, all members resolved to see the convention through. Unrest across this new country lent a sense of urgency, and we could not fail.

The president appears to not listen, fusses with his hair, staring at the ceiling.

THE GENERAL
Listen when I am speaking. Incorrigible halfwit. Leadership requires listening.

THE PRESIDENT
I’m listening. I give myself an A+ on listening. By the way, do you put powder or something on your hair? I worry mine doesn’t look natural in some light.

THE GENERAL
Addle pated oaf! Colonel Roosevelt cautioned me of your conceit. But I will not depart until I have spoken my piece. The Constitutional Convention labored from May, 1787 until September, and in all those sessions only one day concerned the role of the president, Article Two to be precise. And the reason so little time was allocated to this subject? Because I was, whether I wished it or not, the model for the chief executive.

THE PRESIDENT

One day?

THE GENERAL

One day.

The general pauses, then steps over to the bed. He leans over the intimidated president.

Delegates determined the age requirement, the rule for candidates being native born, with four year terms.

THE PRESIDENT

One day, huh. How come so short?

THE GENERAL
Please listen the first time! Because the office was designed for me. I gave up rank, and returned to civilian life, I could be trusted with power. My successor, later wrote, “May none but Honest and Wise Men ever rule under This Roof.” Since that blessing, with one exception, men of political restraint have served as Commander In Chief. Until you. A greedy, self-deluded dunce. Your infamy will never be forgotten, becoming instead a catchphrase for colossal incompetence.

The general rises, adjusts his hat, retrieves his gun and sword, then turns to the president.

THE GENERAL

When my dearest Martha died after my own passing, she was interred beside me, not in a New Jersey sporting green for a tax deduction.

As the general steps offstage an elevator ding is heard again, then a knock on the president’s door. A voice calls out.

SECRECT SERVICEMAN

The elevator issue is fixed, sir. We can go now.

The president adjusts his hair, and straightens his tie. He rushes off stage. A moment later a spotlight catches him hurrying back, picking up the security file, and placing it under his jacket, and again scurries offstage.

The stage goes dark.

END OF SCENE

Gail Chumbley is the author of the two part memoir River of January, and River of January: Figure Eight. She has also authored three stage plays, Clay, Wolf By The Ears, and Peer Review. Chumbley is the co-writer of Dancing On Air a screenplay based on her River books.

If interested in developing any of these pieces reach out at chumbleg.blog

The Business of America

President Calvin Coolidge once famously proclaimed “The business of America is business,” which meant his administration would pursue a “hands off” approach toward the business sector over the interests of the American people. In office from 1923 to 1929 President Coolidge kept to his pro-business principles that, in turn charged the roar into the Roaring Twenties.

By the end of October 1929, six months into the new Hoover Administration, Coolidge’s lax policies came due dropping the Dow Jones Industrial into free fall. This financial catastrophe capped off a decade of easy money made through frenzied and unregulated trades, not only by wealthy holders, but by regular folks taking stock tips from friends or newspapers.

A large portion of these everyday newbies purchased shares “on-margin,” meaning 10% down with 90% on credit, usually borrowed from private banks. The only collateral required was the promise of certain and endless gains. And why not? The market had grown at an astounding rate from $27 billion in the mid-1920’s to $87 billion by 1929. 

Coolidge’s free-market detachment produced a carnival atmosphere with everyday people hot in the market game.

By 1932 the party was over. The now suffering nation had had enough of hands off and predatory money practices. Massive unemployment, thousands of bank failures, hunger, homelessness, and a Dust Bowl in the heartland brought America to its knees, and Democrat Franklin Delano Roosevelt to the White House.

Seeing nothing beneficial for the American people in catering only to the rich, FDR brought an end to GOP policies. His administration instead offered a New Deal for economic revival. Through a massive legislative agenda Roosevelt and Congress intended to not only meet the emergency, but restore economic growth, and eliminate the conduct that led to the Depression in the first place.

One of the most popular New Deal relief programs was the Civilian Conservation Corps. Unemployed young men were put to work throughout the nation building trails and campsites in forests like the Great Smokey Mountain National Park, and urban building projects like the River Walk in San Antonio, Texas. (Consider that idle young men in Germany at the same time donned Black and Brown Shirts and broke heads for Hitler.)

Addressing the chaotic banking system FDR proposed systematic changes. Some 6000 banks had failed between 1930 and 1933 before the new president took office. Panicked depositors waited in long lines to demand their money until banks simply ran out of cash and locked their doors. Confidence collapsed. 

In his first days Mr Roosevelt announced a Bank Holiday where banks closed for four days to stop panic withdrawals. Auditors then inspected banking institutions across the country and surprisingly many banks were deemed solvent and reopened. Not finished with banking, FDR also took to the radio to explain the banking system, and with his cheerful confidence encouraged the public to take cash out of their mattresses, coffee cans, and backyard holes and return deposits to local banks. Thousands did just that. 

In order to prevent another such economic catastrophe the Glass-Steagall Act (1933), was passed by Congress to protect the public from high risk banking practices. One piece of the law was the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, FDIC, which is still in effect today. Depositors had the backing of the federal government to protect their funds from any loss. Moreover the Roosevelt Administration was determined to keep people in their homes, many of whom were facing foreclosure. The Home Owners Refinancing Act provided federal assistance to those who had paid their mortgages in good faith, but now faced eviction. 

In the first hundred days of Roosevelt’s New Deal 77 laws in total were passed by Congress, all aimed at restoring the health of the country. To the majority of Americans it felt like this president truly cared about their wellbeing. Roosevelt’s ascendency to the White House, next to Abraham Lincoln’s certainly stands as the most consequential in America’s continuing experiment in self government.

On a side note Franklin Roosevelt suffered from polio and could not walk, though he believed he’d walk again. FDR never gave up. And the truth of the matter is it took a man in a wheelchair to put the United States back on its feet. Franklin Roosevelt, unlike his predecessors knew that the business of America is “We The People.”

Gail Chumbley is a history educator, author, and playwright. Her work includes River of January, River of January: Figure Eight, both available on Kindle, plays Clay on the life of Senator Henry Clay, Wolf By The Ears a study of American slavery, and Peer Review where Donald Trump meets four past presidents.

If you like, please share this on social media.

The People Who Own It

And that — that brings me to the second mode of civil disobedience. There’s a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart that you can’t take part! You can’t even passively take part! And you’ve got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus — and you’ve got to make it stop! And you’ve got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it — that unless you’re free the machine will be prevented from working at all!!

Mario Savio, December 2, 1964

The GOP no longer pretends to care about the American people. Icons of wealth and raw power, along with compliant political figures parade in and out of Mar-a-Lago without a self-conscious blush. Former Trump critics now kiss his ring out of fear of disfavor and losing access to power. Many in the press are fearful of Trump as well, evident in the resignation of Ann Tenaes from the Washington Post over the paper’s censoring a critical Bezos cartoon, while NBC has threatened to jettison its progressive sister MSNBC.

At least smiling Ronald Reagan tried to demonstrate some kind of fidelity to American principles as his administration catered to the same rich and powerful.

This incoming crowd isn’t even trying to fake concern.

While America drowns in floods and burns in fire, both symptoms of advanced climate change, Mr. Musk has purchased access to Trump so Tesla can bring in cheaper, skilled technicians for his business operations. Not alone in his subservience, Mr. Zuckerberg too, along with Mr. Bezos, and Sam Altman, have made significant donations to Trump’s campaign while the world drowns and burns. These 21st Century tycoons intend to purchase the vain new president’s favor and clear the way for less public responsibility, and garner even more profits.

You see, in MAGA-world Trump is never wrong. Wrong doesn’t exist. The title “felon” carries no shame among supporters, nor rape, fraud, insurrection, or theft of sensitive US intelligence. Trump’s malfeasance is more a badge of honor with his supporters than a deal breaker.

American propriety and concern for the United States are sentiments of another, past era. Statesmanship, decency, and integrity are long gone. In the last days of the 2024 campaign Donald Trump mimed oral sex with his microphone, and no one at the rally appeared offended, not even so-called Christians. In any reality would President Carter had done such a thing? Would President Bush? Moreover, MAGA supporters self-righteously wrap themselves in neo-fascist certainty, nurtured by a steady diet of propaganda and misinformation. There is no longer a bottom.

Overseas enemies are delighted. Putin and Xi have waited a lifetime to overrun the United States. That simple fact should give us all pause on the political state of the nation. The Kremlin and Beijing are reveling in the certainty of easy access to the inner sanctum of American security.

And why wouldn’t they be?

Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg has made known he will no longer fact check posts plastered across his site. This is the same Mark Zuckerberg who threw Trump off Facebook not so long ago for disseminating misinformation. That Zuckerberg seemed to care about the country that has made his fortune. Adding insult to injury this same 21st Century robber baron announced the company will no longer practice diversity in hiring Facebook employees.

His decisions are unacceptable and unAmerican.

Though it certainly makes no difference in the larger scheme, I have decided to take a tiny seed of action by closing my Facebook account. As a writer, Facebook is a convenient way to publish my work as it appears also on Threads and Instagram. However, as Mario Savio so eloquently stated in 1964, I can no longer participate. My spirit is thoroughly sick and outraged with the alarming direction the Republican Party has eagerly chosen to sell out our nation for their 30 pieces of silver.

Though the gears and wheels have been replaced by motherboards, and circuits, the principle holds. The machine requires the public to participate, to provide the metaphoric oxygen for it to survive. And it is down to us alone, the American people. We must demand fair play and decency from the powerful.

If you feel the same please share this post, I know I can’t be alone in my objections.

Gail Chumbley is the author of the two-part memoir River of January and River of January: Figure Eight. Chumbley has also written three plays, Clay, Wolf By The Ears, and Peer Review, exploring the life of Henry Clay, the advent of chattel slavery, and four visits to DJT from past presidents.

chumbleg.blog

A Good Deal

A painting by Valeriy Franchuk, “Harvest of famine” (2000)

A Reblog.

NBC news recently ran a piece on Trump meeting with Ukrainian President Volodymir Zelenskyy. In a video clip Mr. Trump announced that he had spoken with Zelenskyy about opening talks with Vladimir Putin to end the conflict between the two countries. Trump stated to the cameras that Russian President Vladimir Putin would give Ukraine a “good deal.”

Mr. Trump does not know nor does he care about Ukrainian history. If he did, the president would understand that negotiating with the Russian leader is unthinkable, a non-starter. To understand why is to look not only into Ukraine’s recent past but back into the 1930’s.

Putin’s first attempted assassination targeted Ukrainian President Viktor Yushchenko. In 2004 Yushchenko narrowly escaped death after surviving dioxin poisoning, a combination of toxic chemicals which left him weakened and permanently disfigured.

Putin, as a former KGB operative is a master of murder, and why the International Criminal Court has an arrest warrant for him.

An impulsive hustler by nature Trump shows little interest in the crimes of Vladimir Putin. After the recent meeting in Alaska, Trump again called on Zelenskyy to make a deal with Putin. That the Russian has targeted Zelenskyy in numerous assassination attempts on multiple occasions, including three failed hits in one week is of no consequence.

However this narrative reaches back further to the early Twentieth Century, when another strongman, Josef Stalin rose to power.

Following the 1924 death of Bolshevik leader Vladimir Lenin, Stalin coldly and efficiently murdered his own rivals consolidating his power as an absolute despot.

Launching his Five Year Plan, Stalin’s vision for economic prosperity, he ordered collectivization of Ukrainian farms, seizing land and harvests for Russia’s consumption. Calling farmers Kulaks, a pejorative name, Stalin justified his actions by fabricating enemies, complete with mass arrests, show trials, executions, and deporting thousands to Siberia. In that period alone thousands of Ukrainians perished in freezing rail cars, or worked to death in frigid Siberian work camps.

The total number of transportation deaths remains unknown.

However transport was not the worst weapon employed by Stalin. Ukrainian Communist party workers not only stole seasonal harvests but also the seed for future planting.

A genocide followed.

From 1930 through 1933 millions of Ukrainians starved to death or resorted to cannibalism due to Stalin’s disastrous Five Year Plan. Production dropped under the forced collective effort, and the Communist leader had to find scapegoats for the disaster, so he pinned blame on the farmers. Kulaks were dying in massive numbers on purpose to undermine the Kremin’s economic plan.

Stalin insisted he was the victim of treachery.

Called the Holodomor, (death by hunger) as it is remembered, cost the lives of somewhere between 3.5 to 5 million Ukrainians. Adding that number to those deported to Siberian gulags it is safe to say that the Ukrainian people suffered a monstrous horror.

Ukrainian memories and justifiable outrage remain vivid.

As for that ‘good deal’ with Vladimir Putin, President Zelenskyy is not interested. The Ukrainian President has no faith in Russian promises, and is not impressed by Mr. Trump and his previous effort to shake Zelenskyy down for corrupt political ends.

Today thousands more Ukrainian soldiers and civilians have lost their lives fighting this Putin-engineered war, but with national memory to guide them Ukrainians will not back down. Ever.

Independence from Russian oppression is relatively new and very fragile, and that nation will never surrender on Trump’s assurances of a ‘good deal.’ The people of that battered nation know better.

So should we.

This is the web site of the Ukrainian Embassy in DC if you’d like to make a contribution.

https://www.ukrainehouse.us/

Gail Chumbley is a history educator and writer.

Beyond The Symbols

Patriotic symbols, music, and the Pledge of Allegiance recited at a solemn ceremony can be deeply moving. A simple presentation of the flag at a formal function can be awe-inspiring. The lone, austere notes of Taps played at a military funeral elevates a moment into sacred reverence.

The sounds and symbols of American devotion are powerful.

Still, as commanding as recitations, patriotic colors, and America the Beautiful can feel, deeper symbols in our shared history can reveal so much more.

In his book, Washington’s Crossing, historian David Hackett Fischer introduces his volume with a discussion of Emmanuel Leutze’s famous painting of the same name. Fischer guides the reader through elements in the painting, noting passengers figure by figure as they frantically navigate the frozen Delaware River on that long ago Christmas night. 

Why is this particular work especially moving? Because at that juncture, December 25, 1776, the Revolutionary War looked to be flaming out after barely a start. Defeat had dogged Washington’s Continentals after being chased off of Long Island, and driven out of New York City the previous summer. As Washington planned his surprise Christmas attack, victorious Redcoats had settled into winter camp in New York City.

Humiliated, Washington knew he had to strike hard and he had to win.

Viewing his situation with the “clarity of desperation” the General ordered an assault on Hessian (German mercenary) held Trenton, New Jersey. The Continental army would have to use the element of surprise fighting against a better armed and better fed opponent. Risky to the extreme, Washington knew we, meaning America, for all time, was dependent upon his actions that night.

As for the painting, the artist depicts freezing soldiers huddled in a boat with more watercraft in the backdrop. From the starboard side, (to the right of General Washington) sits an oars-man, distinctly Black, putting his back into his strokes, ploughing through dangerous ice floes. Behind him, facing forward at the bow, is another swarthy figure, perhaps a Native American. He is desperately kicking ice with his left boot while handling a sharpened pole to break open a passage through the impossible crust. To the foreground an immigrant (a Scot by the look of his hat) studies the river’s surface closely as he pulls forward to port, while another behind him, in fisherman gear, studies the treacherous water. Others are made up of rustics, one at the tiller, along with a wounded passenger.

General Washington centers the painting as he is the central figure of the drama. Behind the General is Major James Monroe, and another rugged frontiersman by the looks of his garb. Both men are grasping a 13-star (Betsy Ross) flag, in a grip that elicits an attitude of determination and desperation, with perhaps a bit of warmth. Below both flag bearers sits a WOMAN, yes, a woman pulling her oar with an analytic eye upon the clotting water.

Black, Native, white, immigrant, the highborn, the humble, men and women, yesterday, today, and the future: all of our American lives balanced on the gamble played that night in 1776.

The point I believe Leutze is trying to convey is that we all don’t have to be the same. No one has to agree on the details of our beliefs to ride on that boat. The truth is Americans all have and had different realities and ambitions: differing views of liberty. Still, all onboard had to carefully respect each other’s space and not overturn that fragile vessel, Liberty, for we must stay afloat and row in the same direction. It is in all our interests to do so.

And that metaphor of America, that boat, tested our resolve on one of the nation’s most critical nights. Inspiration doesn’t come any better than from Leutze’s allegorical Washington’s Crossing.

Gail Chumbley is the author of the two-part memoir, River of January, and River of January: Figure Eight. Chumbley has also penned two stage plays, Clay, and Wolf By The Ears, concerning the life of Senator Henry Clay, and an in-depth examination of the beginnings of American slavery. Gail is currently working on another piece, Peer Review, best described as Dickens A Christmas Carol meets presidential history.

A Rendezvous

One central  philosophy guided my years of American history instruction. The story had to feel personal to each student, after all it is their country. For the unit on World War Two, I aimed to act as a bridge between my grandparents generation to the kids seated before me. While growing up, my grandparents played a large part in shaping my world view, as the old folks often shared their life experiences. Each had a unique tale on how they committed to fight totalitarianism abroad in the 1940’s, and defend democracy at home. 

All the following accounts involved inconvenience, sacrifice, and interruptions to family life. At that singular moment all they knew was to serve their country, and defeat foreign tyranny. 

A new dark age lay in America’s defeat.

This is Ray Turner, born in 1905 in Hammond, Illinois. This young man migrated west, joining family members in Northern Idaho. Ray soon found his way to Spokane, Washington, where he found work as a postal carrier. Stopping for lunch along his mail route he met a waitress in a downtown cafe, Ailene Peterson, a single mother of one, and after a while they fell in love. Marrying in the fall of 1941, the newly weds, while on a Sunday drive caught a breaking news bulletin on the car radio that the Japanese had attack on Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. Ray turned his automobile around, motored back to Spokane, and joined the Coast Guard the next morning. Stationed out of Willapa Bay in Tokeland, Washington, Ray and the crew of the USS Manzanita patrolled the extensive, rugged Pacific coastline of Washington and Oregon monitoring for Japanese vessels. And it was aboard the Manzanita that Ray remained until August,1945 when he mustered out of the service and returned to Spokane. After a life of grandkids, holidays, and fun on his lake property, he retired from the US Postal Service, passing away in 1974.

Kurtz Olson hailed from Wing River, Minnesota, born on a frigid day in January, 1905. Kurtz, as the youngest of seven children took up welding as a young man, and made a fair living during the difficult Depression years. This photo, take in the 1930’s, (Kurtz on the left) indicates that Hitler was considered harmless and laughable. That certainly changed in 1939, and after the Pearl Harbor attack brought America into the war, Kurtz packed up his wife and family and traveled west to Tacoma, Washington in search of war work. Kurtz spent his days dismantling scrap metal in a welding yard preparing the steel for conversion to ships, planes, tanks, and other war materiel. After the war Kurtz moved his family to Spokane, where he welded, owned a series of mutts, cut firewood with his son, and grandson’s. Kurtz passed on in 1989. 

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This GI is Joe Tucker, this snapshot taken somewhere in France around 1944. Born in Craig County, Oklahoma in 1907, Joe found himself back in uniform at the ripe old age of 37, much older than the 18 and 19 year-olds in his outfit. Joe had actually been in the army until 1939, receiving his first discharge before the war. Making his way to the Pacific Northwest he too, settled in Spokane where he met and married a widow with three children. His daughter from his first marriage lived in the city, as well, and he wanted to remain near her. Working for the Northern Pacific Railroad, with his new, larger family, Joe joined the Washington National Guard for the extra pay guard duty brought in. After Pearl Harbor the US Government nationalized the Washington Guard, and off he went to war. After training stateside, then stationed in the south of England, Joe found himself on Normandy Beach on June 7, 1944, D+1. Surviving those first days he and his fellow Guardsmen suffered through the Battle of the Bulge, finally winding their way to Germany. On one particular night, Joe stood guard duty somewhere in Germany. He heard his sergeant grouse was the soldier on duty asleep? The reply was no, it’s Tucker, and he’s awake alright. (Joe liked telling that story). Eventually Joe shipped home to reunite with his family in 1945.

From her waitressing job, Ailene Peterson, turned Ailene Turner followed her new husband Ray to the Washington coast. Traveling with her young daughter Ailene looked for war work as well. Born in 1914, in Clinton, Minnesota, Ailene had married quite young, desperate to leave her father’s stump farm in North Dakota. Husband #1, Joe Tucker had failed her, and with her young daughter in tow, sought refuge with family members in Spokane. It was in Bremerton, Washington that she found employment wiring mine sweepers for America’s Russian allies, (she said they were very rude). In later life, Ailene proudly mentioned that her work never had to be redone. She always wired it right the first time. In an operators cab of a crane, Ailene noticed the girls below waving their arms and jumping about. Shutting down the motor she heard them yell that the Japanese had surrendered, and the war was over. Ailene scrambled down from her seat, and joined the victory celebration. She, too, along with Ray returned to Spokane until her death in 1990.

Besides being my grandparent’s, and generously sharing their remarkable stories with me, what else did these people share in common? They put aside their personal lives to step up in defiance of fascism and authoritarianism. They knew that service to America, to our democracy, was their first duty.

Retelling my grandparent’s war-time sacrifices to my history students added a vividness to the coursework that encouraged the kids to do the same with their elders. That, once again is how I bridged the war years to now, making it personal for students. 

President Roosevelt had characterized that moment as America’s “Rendezvous with Destiny,” and those people rose masterfully to the challenge. And despite all the hostility to democracy today, we cannot surrender to those forces, and betray our forebears who stood up to defend our way of life.

Perhaps now is our “Rendezvous with Destiny,” and this time all we have to do is vote for the Democrat over the wannabe dictator.

Once again, a new dark age lay in America’s defeat. 

Gail Chumbley is the author of the two-part memoir, “River of January,” and “River of January: Figure Eight.” Both are available on Kindle. Chumbley has also penned two history stage plays, “Clay,” and “Wolf By The Ears.” She is the co-author of “Dancing On Air,” and feature length screenplay, and is working on “Peer Review,” for the stage, a series of short plays where DJT meets real presidents from the past.

gailchumbley@gmail.com

Symmetry

This reactionary-looking gent is Marylander Roger Brooks Taney, an Andrew Jackson appointee to the Supreme Court. History remembers Justice Taney as the author of the Court’s most infamous ruling in Scott V Sandford (1857).  

Before his rise to the Court, Taney had made no secret of his opinion on slavery and citizenship, insisting that blacks in the country had no rights white men were bound to respect. A free black had requested documents for overseas travel that Roger Taney, as then US Attorney General, rejected. Taney declared his view that blacks were not citizens, and never would be. Travel documents for this man of color were denied.

Another important element in this story concerns the Missouri Compromise of 1820. Settled eight years prior to the election of Andrew Jackson, this legislation directed that, with the exception of the new state itself, slavery would be forbidden westward along Missouri’s southern border. Most Americans hoped that this Compromise Line would endure forever, clearly delineating for posterity new slave states from free.

By the time the Scott case wound its way to the highest court, violence and bloodshed had erupted on those very western lands, on the Kansas prairie. Emigrants raced from both northern and southern states, dead set to vote upon the status of slavery in the new state’s pending constitution. A volatile mix of invading, pro-slave Missouri Ruffians assaulted Free-State Jayhawkers near Lawrence, sparking deadly violence across the region. Unrepentant slaveholders demanded their 5th Amendment property rights (meaning slaves) be allowed any place slaveholders settled. At the same time, equally fervent opponents contended the “peculiar institution” would remain only where it existed, never to pollute new territories, or America’s future.

Justice Taney, as Chief Justice, took umbrage at these incessant attacks, and at those Northern rabble rousers who would not obey the law. When the Dred Scott case entered deliberations it appears Taney intended to settle the question for all time, silencing forever those interfering, and self-righteous Yankees. When the Court finally issued its ruling in 1857, Justice Taney’s opinion rang out with certainty, and finality.

Taney wrote

I Despite Dred Scott once residing in free territory with his master, he was still a slave.

II As a slave, Dred Scott was not a citizen and had no standing in court.

With those two main points established, Taney could have ended his decree, but the Chief Justice had some personal venom to add.

III Congress had exceeded its authority in legislating the Missouri Compromise in 1820, and the 1820 law was unconstitutional. 

IV Movable property, (slaves) could not be restricted by boundary lines or by popular vote. Property was protected by law.

Believing he had settled the dispute, Justice Taney had, in fact, only stoked a more massive inferno.

Indeed the Civil War exploded within four years of Taney’s ruling, and blazed for four bloody years. In the aftermath, an interesting turn of symmetry, the Fourteenth Amendment was submitted for adoption, flipping all of Taney’s arguments, provision by provision. 

I By virtue of birth in the United States, one was a citizen. 

II As a citizen a person was due all rights and immunities, with equal protection under the law. 

This amendment reads as if the Scott Decision acted as a template for reversal.

Fast forward to 2008. 

President-Elect, Barack Obama, in a conscious effort to mirror the sequence of fellow Illinoisan, Abraham Lincoln’s inaugural, deliberately followed the 1861 Lincoln festivities. The Obamas rode the same train route as had the Lincoln’s, breakfasted on the same meal inauguration day, and when the moment came for the swearing in, President Obama chose the same Bible as touched by Abraham Lincoln’s right hand in 1861.

In this last twist of symmetry that Bible belonged to Justice Roger B Taney, the man who decreed blacks were not citizens and never would be. A very satisfying turn, indeed.

Gail Chumbley is the author of the two-part memoir, “River of January,” and “River of January: Figure Eight.” Both are available on Kindle. Chumbley has also penned three stage plays, “Clay,” “Wolf By The Ears,” and “Peer Review.” She has cowritten “Dancing On Air,” a film script.

gailchumbley@ymail.com

Meet The Beatles

It was the night of February 9, 1964, a Sunday, when my older brother and I had to make a crucial little kid decision. The situation we faced left us over stimulated, careening off the living room walls. Our dilemma concerned whether or not to watch “Davy Crockett at the Alamo” on Disney, or the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. Adding even more adrenaline to the mix, our shared birthday was the next day, Monday, the 10th.

Agony.

In 1964 there were no video players, no DVD players, no home computers, or dvr’s. Our television stood inside a wood frame measuring about the size of Volkswagen Bug and beamed three network channels in glorious, flickering, black and white. This night’s decision was a one-off with no do-overs. Period.

Dale and I liked Davy Crockett an awful lot. We had watched all the previous episodes, and Davy biting the dust in San Antonio was the much anticipated grand finale. But, oh, the Beatles! “Please Please Me” had infiltrated AM radio, and the fever on the airwaves was palpable. 

This was a single decision, and a weighty conundrum for an almost 10, and almost 9 year-old. We had to choose.

In the end we tuned into Ed Sullivan and our world permanently shifted on its axis. George’s opening chords launched into John and Paul’s vocals. “Oh, yeah I’ll tell you something, I think you’ll understand.” The look, the sound, the energy knocked us both for a loop. And the band seemed so delighted with performing, visibly getting a kick out of the reaction of the screaming studio audience, and by extension, all of America. And then that deep bow at the end of the song! Wow.

In fan magazines we learned more about each individual: who was quiet, cute, endearing, and the leader, but those were minor details. That moment, on February 9th all we sensed was joyful wonder. John Sebastian said it best later, singing “how the magic is the music and the music’s in me,” and magic struck on that winter’s night.

The introduction of the Beatles to America reset the course of music world wide, not a small thing. Over the following years the joint efforts of Lennon/McCartney clearly demonstrated genius in both songwriting and brilliant recordings. After their breakup the four musicians pursued other projects: The Plastic Ono Band, Wings, Wilburys, and Ringo’s All Star Band. Each married, had children, remarried, then John was tragically murdered, and George died of cancer.

Now Paul and Ringo attend public commemorations of Beatle music, while their children pop up frequently on social media, each pursuing some latest venture or other. But those facts are details, and rather unimportant details compared to that singular moment on February 9, 1964.

For years I called my brother on our birthday, blasting “Birthday” from the White Album because “it’s my birthday too, yeah.” 

Now a lifetime has passed, and my birthday twin and partner in Beatlemania sadly died. But I remember, I’ll always remember. The gift of that moment survives, when we were both very much alive breathing in the unbounded optimism, energy, and magic when Dale and I first met the Beatles.

Oh, by the way, I’ve never seen “Davy Crockett at the Alamo.”

Gail Chumbley is the author of the two-part memoir, “River of January,” and “River of January: Figure Eight.” Chumbley has also authored the stage play, “Clay” and “Wolf By The Ears.” In addition, Gail co-authored the screenplay, “Dancing on Air” based on her books.