Fort Necessity National Battlefield, Farmington, Pennsylvania and Boston National Historical Park, Boston, Massachusetts

Like many of us, George Washington fumbled his early attempt at leadership. In fact, he botched it so bad that he launched a world war. We call it the French and Indian War, the Europeans call it the Seven Years War. To understand the American Revolution, we first need to visit Fort Necessity where Washington surrendered to the French in 1754. This war, while ultimately won by the British, led directly to the American Revolution. So Washington’s mistakes set in motion two wars that transformed the world and helped create these United States. The next several weeks’ postings in Driven by History will cover the lead up to and then the American Revolution. We start with Fort Necessity, the only NPS site that preserves and interprets the French and Indian War.

George Washington as an older man (From exhibit at Ft. Necessity's visitor center)

In 1754, Lt. Col. Washington went west with a military force to contest the French’s presence in the Ohio River Valley. When I arrived at Fort Necessity’s visitors center, Ranger James took me to the mock-up of the battle encased behind Plexiglas. He explained that Britain and France had competing claims on North America which centered on the Ohio River Valley. Virginia claimed it as an extension westward of its colony’s boundaries. France had been in the region for years as its fur traders plied the waterways of the Ohio and the Mississippi Rivers. These rivers also provided a vital link between New France up north and Louisiana in the west. In a time of rough roads and slow wagons, rivers served as the quickest way to travel long distances.

Map of the contested lands between England and France south of the Great Lakes
(From exhibit at visitors center)

James also offered some insight into George Washington. He was twenty-three years old at Fort Necessity, with little formal nor military education, but instead worked as a surveyor. He did have ambition, leadership ability, and a capacity to learn from his mistakes. Fort Necessity was where Washington began his military career.

To assert itself, the French established several forts in the region, including driving the Virginians out of their small stronghold at the forks of the Ohio River where Pittsburg now stand. The French expanded and renamed it Fort Duquesne. In April, Lt. Col. Washington went to the region to request that the French leave. They did not. The English then set up camp in a marshy area called the Great Meadows which Washington thought was “a charming field for an encounter.”

Replica of Ft. Necessity in the Great Meadow (Photo by Hunner)

Scouts brought news that French group of soldiers were nearby. At dawn on May 28 at Jumonville Glen, Washington with forty soldiers and some Seneca allies attacked the French. Commanded by Joseph Coulon de Villiers, Sieur de Jumonville, the French fought back but were quickly defeated, with ten dead and twenty-one captured. De Sieur was killed, perhaps scalped by the Seneca chief Tanaghrisson, aka the Half King. Washington lost one man and had two wounded. Paul Haney, a volunteer that led my tour down to the replica of Fort Necessity, speculated that the Half King wanted the British and French to fight each other so he goaded the English into this attack. This brutal attack on a French party led to the American Revolution.

Suspecting that the French would quickly respond, the English prepared for a counter attack by building a circular palisaded fort in five days at the Great Meadows. Several days after the encounter, the commander of the British forces, Colonel Fry, was thrown from his horse and died. Washington became the commander in the field. Washington had about 300 men under his command, which was reinforced later with 100 British regulars from South Carolina led by Captain James Mackay. But perhaps a quarter of his men were unfit for duty.

The view of Ft. Necessity from where the French stood (Photo by Hunner)

On the morning of July 3, 600 French and 100 Indian allies attacked Fort Necessity. They were led by Captain Louis Coulan de Villiers, the slain Joseph’s brother. The French first killed all the cows and horses in the fields outside of the small fort to prevent the English from leaving. Stiff action lasted the whole day with casualties on both sides, and as rain came down harder and harder, the English, pressured by the French and Indians, grew more desperate in their fort. Around thirty of their soldiers had died.

Hut within Ft. Necessity where Washington signed the surrender document (Photo by Hunner)

Then, Captain de Villiers offered peace terms and after a long evening of negotiations, Washington surrendered. The British retained their baggage and weapons and retreated to Virginia. The French burned Fort Necessity. Lost in the translation of the surrender document from the French, Washington accepted personal responsibility for assassinating Joseph de Villiers. Within a couple of months, the French had the signed document back in Europe, illustrating that the English were proud of being assassins.

The day long battle at Fort Necessity sparked the war between England and France for the control of the North American continent. It also initiated a wider war between these two colonial powers in Asia and on the high seas. The Seven Years War ended in 1763 with the French expelled from Canada and India.

Consequences, both intended and unintended, came from this victory. An intended consequence was that the lands west of the Appalachian Mountains opened up to settlement by the English colonists. For Britain’s Indian allies, this was poor recompense. Treaties arose that moved them off of their ancestral lands and created reservations for them, which were invariably broken as settlers pushed ever westward.

War wampum belt (From exhibit at visitors center)

An unintended consequence was that some of the key colonial military leaders of the Revolution earned their stripes in this conflict. A more significant unintended consequence was the changed relationship between England and her colonies. Looking for ways to pay off both the war debt and the expenses of running their expanded empire, King George III and Parliament turned to the prosperous American colonies. The English argued: Didn’t the war begin in the colonies? Didn’t the colonies need the continued protection of the British military? Surely, the colonists grasped that they should pay their fair share. So they placed more taxes on their American colonies.  

While all the colonies were subject to taxes, the people in Massachusetts proved particularly troublesome to the King’s wishes. So let’s shift from Fort Necessity to Boston. I stopped by Faneuil Hall on a hot August day and stood in line with several hundred people. I asked the man in front of me if this was the right line for the visitor’s center and he shook his head: “No I’m taking the oath.” On Thursdays, naturalization ceremonies occurred at the Great Hall of Faneuil Hall.  I congratulated him and slipped into the ground floor and the NPS welcome center.

I got on a tour of part of the Freedom Trail led by Ranger Bill Casey. He said that Faneuil Hall has protected the rights of Englishman since 1742. These rights—to vote, to assemble, and to debate—were threatened by the new efforts of the Crown. Bill asked us to complete James Otis’s declaration in Faneuil Hall, “Taxation without representation is … tyranny.” The colonists had no representatives in Parliament since the Lords did not want to share their power with the provincials.

A particularly odious tax on the colonies was the Stamp Act of 1765. It required revenue stamps on newspapers and most printed material, even playing cards. Thus, the Stamp Act angered the influential people who shaped public opinion—the newspaper editors, lawyers, and tavern owners. As a result, open acts of rebellion flared, including the sacking of the Bostonian homes of the Lt. Gov. Thomas Hutchinson and his brother-in-law Andrew Oliver, a stamp act commissioner. In response in 1768, the British sent troops to Boston to quell the growing rebellion, which the Bostonians had to house.

The stamp required for all printed materials from the act of 1765.

On March 5, 1770, a lone British sentry marched between his barracks and the customs’ house across the street. He cried out as a group of youths pelted him with snowballs and rocks. Soldiers poured out of the nearby barracks and tussled with the gathering crowd. A British solder fired, then more shots rang out, killing five and wounding another eight. Ironically, one of the first persons killed in the fight for freedom was Crispus Attucks, a runaway slave who worked on the ships in the harbor. Future president John Adams defended the British soldiers charged with murder since he felt that without a fair trial, rule by mob threatened justice. Of the ten British soldiers, two were convicted of manslaughter, the rest were absolved. Nonetheless, the Boston Massacre escalated the conflict.

Ranger Bill ended our walking tour in front of the Old South Meeting House, the biggest building in North America in the 18^th century. It could hold 4,000 to 5,000 people. At this Congregationalist Church, on December 16, 1773, Samuel Adams launched the Boston Tea Party. A group of men disguised as Mohawk Indians stormed three ships in the Boston harbor and dumped 342 chests of tea into the frigid waters to protest the taxes.  Parliament punished Boston with the Coercive Acts, aka the Intolerable Acts, which closed the port until the equivalent of over $1,000,000 in today’s dollars was paid for the tea. Only the governor, Gen. Thomas Gage, could approve public assemblies. The British military now ruled Massachusetts. Discontent grew in Boston and other cities in the colonies.

In next week’s blog, we will return to Boston and the shot heard ‘round the world and then follow the war at other NPS and historic sites. Also on August 25, the National Park Service turns 100. Please celebrate it by going to a park, remembering past park trips, and letting your family, friends, and elected representatives know what our parks mean to you. Party with your parks!

Fort Necessity was designated a National Battlefield Site on March 4, 1931 and a National Battlefield in 1961. Boston National Historical Park was created on October 1, 1974.

Hopewell Culture National Historical Park, Chillicothe, Ohio

The mound at Seip earthworks (Photo by Hunner)

After visiting the Wright Brothers and their inventions in the 20^th century, I dropped down to southern Ohio to the 2,000-year-old Hopewell Culture site. Here earthen mounds dot the landscape, enduring evidence that a civilization existed that was a capitol of the eastern part of our eastern continent.

Here's a recap from earlier blogs about the peoples in North America before contact with Europeans. Once people arrived in the Western Hemisphere, they spread over the landscape like water through a burst dam.  They roamed the countryside, hunting and gathering their way from the frozen tundra near the Bering Sea to the equally frigid tip of South America, from the steamy jungles in the tropics to dense woodlands in the hinterlands, from mountains to beaches to swamps to deserts. Whatever way humans immigrated to the Americas, once here they moved over the countryside, and like migrants today, they looked for the perfect place to live and thrive.

Obsidian spear point (From exhibit at Mound City visitor's center)

These humans built complex buildings and communities solely with stone tools. They hunted large mammals like mammoths and bison with spears and bows and arrows, and butchered their kills with sharp stone knives. They carved and painted art on rock walls and made religious and ornamental objects out of shells, turquoise, bones, and even the landscape itself. These humans also studied the heavens and developed a complex understanding of the movement of the sun, the moon, and the planets. They flourished for hundreds of generations and lived in all corners of what would be become the United States.

Painting of shaman performing a ceremony (From exhibit at Mound City Visitors' Center)

As early as 3,500 years ago, people in southern Ohio began burying their dead with goods that showcased the skills and artistry of their craftspeople. Ranger Joe Ratterman pointed to archeological evidence that Mound City (where the visitors’ center is) was perhaps a crematorium as well as a burial site. Sometimes, the dead were cremated and then the building was burned and a mound built over it. At other sites, a cremation fire pit was used multiple times with the ashes buried elsewhere in the compound. At some point, they covered the first fire pit with a mound, and then put a new fire pit above the exact spot of the first fire pit. Since archeologists have different theories about the Hopewell, he asked me to add qualifiers to my account. Perhaps I will.

Above, a collection of artifacts from the mounds. Below, an Great Blue Heron effigy pipe
(From Mound City Visitors' Center)

The burial mounds hold numerous artifacts. Archeologists have discovered copper earspools, headdresses, breastplates, lithic chips from making stone tools, and effigy pipes. A bag in one grave held 200 broken effigy pipes carved out of stone depicting animals such as a beaver, a great blue heron, a frog, a peregrine falcon, a turtle, a squirrel, an otter, a rabbit, a raven, and an owl. Hammered copper also looked like various animals, humans, and other objects. All of these illustrate the exquisite workmanship and wealth of the Hopewell people. In one burial, thousands of pearls surrounded six skeletons. In other mounds, archeologists found a delicate profile of a hand and a bird claw, both made out of fragile mica. Archeologists have discovered 180,000 artifacts in the mounds.

Bird claw made out of mica found in a mound (From exhibit on walking tour at Mound City)

These funeral objects also hint at a deeper motivation – a spirituality that pervades the 500 nations in the Americas. From origin beliefs to migration stories, Native Americans imbued their world with a rich spirituality. From such stories, Alvin Josephy in 500 Nations, his history of Native Americans, concluded: “The Creator, the Master of Life, the Great Spirit, Wakan Tanka—whatever terms the various Native American groups used – breathed life into humans and bound their spirits to those of all else in their universe.” [1] For many Native Americans, both animate and inanimate things possessed a spirit that enlivened all that surrounded them.

Hammered copper mountain goat horns (From exhibit at Mound City Visitors' Center)

The objects found in the burial mounds give us a glimpse of the Hopewell way of life. Sea shells from the Gulf of Mexico, mica from the mountains in North Carolina, fossil shark teeth from the Chesapeake Bay, copper and silver from the Great Lakes region, and obsidian from the Yellowstone area point to a vast trading network that covered almost two thirds of the country – from the Rocky Mountains to the Atlantic. Ranger Kate at the visitors’ center talked about how these goods came to the Mound Builders. She said that perhaps the Hopewellians mounted trading expeditions themselves, went to the above places, and returned with the goods. The evidence is that there is little distribution of such items between say the Rocky Mountains and Hopewell. That is, traders would have bartered and left a trail of these goods along the way, and there is no evidence of that. However these items got to Hopewell from around the continent, the artists there turned them into exquisite pieces of beauty.

Map of materials that the Hopewellians used (From Mound City walking tour exhibit panel)

The Mound Builders grew squash, sunflowers, marsh elder, and knotweed while continuing to hunt and forage far and wide for food and material. Ranger Joe disagreed with me about when corn made an entrance. I thought it was early enough that it helped create the Hopewell culture since it came to New Mexico 3,000 years ago and then would have spread across the continent. He said there is no evidence of corn until towards the end of this culture.

Archaeologists speculate that maybe  this culture developed strict hierarchical lines with an elite body of priests and managers directing the efforts of many people to dig the earth, carry basketfuls of the dirt to the mounds, and build the massive earthen architecture that rose high over the land. Whether this was free or slave labor is unknown. From the simple early burial sites of 3,000 years ago, the mounds evolved into elaborate platforms for ceremonies and even served as residences of the elite. Large ceremonial complexes grew around the mounds so much that archaeologists estimate that the city at Cahokia (1,000 years after Hopewell but still mound builders) had 10,000 to 20,000 people there – more than London at the time.

Monk's Mound at Cahokia east of St. Louis (Photo by Hunner)

Some experts also speculate that the mounds housed astronomical observatories that tracked the seasons. Perhaps the mounds served as landscape calendars like at Chaco Canyon and were aligned to mark summer and winter solstices and equinoxes. In an agricultural society without written calendars, having a way to tell when to plant and when to harvest, proves vital to the success of the community. Perhaps the city planners situated Mound City where it was because two peaks on the eastern horizon line up with the north and south limits of the 18.6-year cycle of where the moon rises.

Another fascinating congruence is that at least three of the five sites preserved in the Hopewell Culture NHP follow a common pattern. Each have walls that mark a square, a large circle, and a small circle. Each square is the same size, twenty-seven acres. And each square fits onto the large circle. This pattern repeats itself, even at sites that are sixty miles distant from each other.

The geometry of the Seip complex where the square fits into the large circle
(From exhibit at Mound City visitors' center)

Mounds in a variety of sizes and shapes pervaded this region. Just in the Ohio River Valley alone, ten thousand mounds dotted the landscape. In addition to the traditional circles, squares, and elliptical shapes of the mounds, some illustrated intriguing shapes. These “effigy mounds” depicted birds, serpents, panthers, bears, and even humans. Built between 1,300 and 700 years ago, these fascinating shapes occurred mainly in Iowa, Illinois, and Wisconsin. This was a vibrant and interconnected culture.

The Mound Builders started to decline even before contact with European explorers in the middle 1500s. Whatever the cause, they might be the ancestral peoples for many of the tribes that have lived in the region, even to this day. DNA matching from the human remains in the mounds with today’s tribes is pending. It is possible that the tribes of the Apalachee, Caddo, Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Creek, Houma, Kansa, Missouri, Mobilian, Natchez, Osage Nation, Quapaw, Seminole, Yamasee, Yuchi, and others are descendants of the Mississippian mound builders.

Side of the square at Mound City (Photo by Hunner)

The people who lived in the central part of the United States 2,000 years ago had a sophisticated understanding of the world. Agriculturally based, they positioned their mounds to mark the passing of the seasons, they had a vast network of trade and commerce, and they probably had a stratified social structure that included priests and rulers supported by craftsmen, farmers, and possibly slaves.

The Mound City Group National Monument was established by President Warren G. Harding in 1923 to preserve prehistoric mounds of "great historic and scientific interest." Hopewell Culture National Historical Park was established in 1992 by combining the Mound City Group National Monument with Hopeton Earthworks, High Bank Works, Hopewell Mound Group, and Seip Earthworks.

Driven by History now turns down the road to the American Revolution. This week on August 25, the National Park Service turns 100. Please celebrate it by going to a park, thinking about past park trips, and letting your family, friends, and elected representatives know what our parks mean to you. Party with your parks!

My Centennial gig rig next to a mound at the parking lot of the Mound City visitor's center

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[1] Alvin M. Josephy, Jr., 500 Nations: An Illustrated History of North American Indians (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1994).

Notes from the road, August 15, 2016

Driven by History has a problem. Or to be more accurate, I have a problem. I visit a lot more places every week than I can blog about. So in addition to my weekly postings about several of the places that I have visited recently, I will also write a review to catch you up on where I’ve been and what I’ve done over the last week or so. Eventually, all these places will have their own history. In the meantime, here’s a short review.

At the end of July, I left New Mexico and drove east along Route 66. I already wrote about Washita Battlefield NHS and Route 66. I stopped off at the Oklahoma City Bombing site where 168 people lost their lives in this act of domestic terrorism on April 19, 1995. The NPS has a presence there at the reflecting pool with its stark monument of 168 chairs, one for each of the victims including nineteen small chairs for the children who were at the day care center. I talked with a NPS ranger who admitted that this is hard duty, interpreting the horror and death of the mass bombing that destroyed so much—so many lives, so much property, so many people’s belief in an innocence that was obliterated by this tragic event.

The empty chairs and reflecting pool at the Oklahoma City Bombing Site

From a conversation at Washita with Ranger Richard Zahm, I altered my route and went to Pea Ridge Battlefield National Military Park in northwest Arkansas. Called the Gettysburg of the West, 16,000 men fought here in 1863 as the south tried to invade Missouri and secure it for the Confederacy. Ranger Ashleigh called this a “pinkie-toe” park in that it was out of the way and didn’t attract the visitation of the big parks. As with many places that witnessed intense violence on a massive scale, Pea Ridge is now peaceful, while the visitors’ center and the panels on the driving tour evoke the chaos of battle.

As I drove east, I kept crossing the Trail of Tears where thousands of Native Americans trudged west to Indian Territory in the 1830s as they were forced from their ancestral lands in the Southeast. More about this story when I get North Carolina.

Above, a marker for the Trail of Tears at Pea Ridge Battlefield. Below, my rig overlooking one of the fields of battle at Pea Ridge. (Photos by Hunner)

After Pea Ridge, I jumped back on Route 66 at Joplin and headed to St. Louis and the Jefferson Expansion National Memorial. The iconic arch beckoned from afar as I drove into town but once I arrived under the shining symbol of westward expansion, I was disappointed that the museum was undergoing a renovation. I did spend time at the Old Courthouse where slaves Dred and Harriet Scott sued for their freedom in 1854 because they had traveled with their owner to several free states.

Above, a sculpture of Dred and Harriet Scott in front of the Old Courthouse in St. Louis. Below, the construction of a new visitors' center under the Arch. (Photos by Hunner) 

Ultimately, the U.S. Supreme Court sided with slavery, denied the Scotts’ their freedom, and fueled the growing controversy that led to the Civil War. I also watched a documentary about the building of the Arch in the 1960s. As this engineering marvel rose above the Mississippi River, I marveled at the construction workers perched 600 feet above the ground without any safety ropes or harnesses, casually smoking cigarettes as they spun the multi-ton sections into place. No one died on the job.

Tour Guide Gary talking about Monk's Mound behind him (Photo by Hunner)

Just east of St. Louis are the Cahokia Mounds, the biggest pre-contact earthen structures in the Americas, made a thousand years ago by Native Americans. This massive municipal project illustrates the complex civilization that supported between 10,000 to 20,000 people, a population that was greater than London at the time. As I climbed the 100 foot tall Monk’s Mound in the early evening, I met a couple from Chicago who recommended that I return the next morning to go through the impressive museum run by the Illinois State Parks. I am glad I did since I saw artifacts from excavations, 

explanations of life at Cahokia, and then took a tour of the mounds with volunteer Gary. A retired IT guy, Gary became absorbed by researching the Cahokia culture. Now he leads tours of the mounds.

Lewis and Clark's keelboat at the Lewis and Clark State Park north of St. Louis (Photo by Hunner)

Another interesting Illinois State park just up the road from Cahokia is the Lewis and Clark Center. The winter before the Corps of Discovery left on their journey to the Pacific Ocean in 1804, they stayed at Camp Dubois near the confluence of the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers. Like at Cahokia, this state park’s museum ably told the story of the Lewis and Clark expedition across the continent, including a full scale replica of the keelboat they took up Missouri River.

National Road Marker along Route 40 (Photo by Hunner)

At St. Louis, Route 66 veered north while I went east on another historic road, Route 40—the National Road through Illinois and Indiana to Indianapolis. I teach living history at New Mexico State University and so am attracted to NPS sites and museums that offer this kind of interaction with visitors. North of Indianapolis lies Conner Prairie, the oldest living history park in the country, a place I have wanted to visit for decades. Dr. Catherine Hughes, their chief of interpretation, gave me a tour, and then I spent the rest of the day at Conner Prairie time traveling through Indiana in the 19^th century.

A family enjoying Conner Prairie (Photo by Hunner)

I continued along the remnants of the National Road to Dayton, where I visited the Wright Brothers bicycle shop and visitor’s center and then Huffman Prairie Field, the world’s first airport. There Wilbur and Orville figured out how to maneuver and control their flying machines at Huffman Field. On the day I stopped by, the NPS had a replica of one of the Wrights’ early planes on display.

Effigy pipe excavated from the burial mounds at Hopewell Culture NHP (Photo by Hunner)

After this dose of early 20^th century aviation history, I ducked down into southern Ohio to Hopewell Culture NHP to explore more pre-contact mounds. One thousand earlier than Cahokia, the mounds at the five sites of Hopewell are more intimate and just as mysterious. The main museum for Hopewell showcases many of the artifacts found in the mounds, including hammered copper figures, effigy pipes, and a silhouette of a hand made out of Carolina mica.

Fort Necessity in Pennsylvania (Photo by Hunner)

Crossing the Ohio River, I then spent a morning at Fort Necessity where a young George Washington suffered a defeat in the French and Indian War in 1754. I drove an hour or so and came to the Flight 93 National Monument where I relived that awful day in 2001. The rangers and volunteers at this memorial all commented on how they are reclaiming both the sites natural beauty as well as reconciling the horrendous events that changed our country.

Looking through a gate to the sacred place of the Flight 93 crash site (Photo by Hunner) 

Heading north from Flight 93, I stopped at another site of tragedy at the Johnstown NM where a flood in 1889 killed over 2,000 people. I spent a couple of days with my step-brother Barry, his wife Shelly and kids Meredith and James in southwestern New York where I visited a counterpart to the Wright brothers at the Glenn Curtiss Museum. There I heard an alternative narrative to aviation history. Barry and I also took a quick swing through the Corning Glass Museum where we saw intricately designed vials from several thousand years ago, glass sculptures from today, as well as how fiber optics work. That day ended with Shelly’s dad Bob proudly showing me the old railroad cars and replica of a steam engine that he has helped restore over the last forty years.

Bob in front of the replica of a steam locomotive (Photo by Hunner)

This two week segment of Driven by History ended with a visit to the Women’s Rights National Historical Park at Seneca Falls, New York where the Declaration of Sentiments was signed in 1849, the start of the fight to gain the right to vote for women.

The restored church where the Declaration of Sentiments was signed in 1849 (Photo by Hunner)

I have yet to find the time to drive to history, visit the essential historic places, and write them all up for my weekly blog. I will eventually get to these individual sites and do them justice, but since I visit five or six places a week and write up at most half that many, I am accumulating quite a backlog.

Being driven by history means that I am visiting as many sites as I can for the rest of this year. It means absorbing as much of our nation’s past at individual places before I pop behind the wheel of my truck and head to the next site. And it means assembling a somewhat fragmented narrative about our country on the fly, as I sped down the road, listening to the latest news about our fractured politics while interacting with normal people along the way. I am witnessing historic sites in a land of plenty, of fields ripe with crops, of commerce and community, of industrious people with full families enjoying the summer on the front porches of Anytown USA. I am experiencing the best of our country. I am a lucky guy.

Dayton Aviation Heritage NHP, Dayton, Ohio

The most famous brothers in the 20^th century surely are Orville and Wilbur Wright. The NPS has two major units dedicated to their revolution in transportation—one at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina where they first accomplished powered flight and the other at Dayton, Ohio which contains five units across the city. Here’s their story.

Neither Wilbur (1867-1912) nor Orville (1871-1948) earned their high school diplomas, but instead invented from an early age. In 1889, they started a printing business, first as newspaper publishers and then as commercial printers. One of their early clients was Paul Laurence Dunbar, a celebrated African-American poet and writer.

Wright Brothers printers (from exhibit at visitors' center)

Looking for new business opportunities, in 1892 the brothers opened a repair shop to tap into the growing popularity of bicycles. By 1896, they were building small numbers of their own brand, called the Hercules. Their printing and bicycle businesses allowed them both the time and the machine shop to pursue another interest. Spurred on by news of experiments in flight, Wilbur in 1899 wrote the Smithsonian Institute and asked for any information about aeronautics. More about the Smithsonian later.

They flew kites around Dayton and asked the U.S. Weather Bureau where reliable winds blew. In 1900, Wilbur and Orville took their gliders and camped out at Kitty Hawk on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. From watching birds fly, they developed a concept called Wing Warping that torqued the wings to allow some control over flight. Nonetheless, progress was slow that year and the next and on the train home from the 1901 experiments at Kitty Hawk, Wilbur said to Orville that man would not fly for 1,000 years.

That winter, they built a wind tunnel at their bike shop and conducted over 200 experiments on the shape of wings. They also worked on creating a light weight engine for their plane. They returned to Kitty Hawk in 1902, set up shop in a tent on the wind swept dunes, and completed between 700 and 1,000 flights with their glider that fall. This plane “embodied their core invention, a complete system of flight control…. The 1902 glider represented a stunning breakthrough.” In fact, when they applied for a patent several years later, they submitted the plans for the glider and its controls instead of their powered plane.[1]

Replica of the 1902 glider (from exhibit at visitors' center

The Wrights returned to Kitty Hawk on September 26, 1903. On December 17th, Wilbur and Orville traded off climbing aboard their bi-plane for short powered flights. On his second flight, Wilbur traveled 852 feet and remained airborne for almost a minute of flight. The Wrights had attained the long sought dream of human flight. They returned to Dayton and decided to continue flight experiments closer to home. They had proved that humans could fly. They now needed to create a practical plane that could be controlled in the air.

Catapult and track at Huffman Field (Photo by Hunner) 

Winds at Huffman Prairie Field north of Dayton did not blow as hard as at Kitty Hawk. To compensate, in 1904 they built a catapult to fling their planes into the air, much like aircraft carriers use today. The challenge in creating a practical plane entails finding ways to control the three directions that a plane must navigate—pitch or up and down, right and left, and yawl or roll. Small wings called elevators control the pitch, rudders point the plane right or left, and wing warping controls the roll of a plane.

The three directions that planes move (From exhibit at visitors' center)

Failures plagued the Wright Brothers, including accidents like the one when Orville lost control and crashed into the field at 30 mph.  Finally, on October 5, 1905, Wilbur took off in a plane of fabric and wood and stayed aloft for almost forty minutes covering twenty-three miles in circles around Huffman field. The brothers then they halted all of their flights since they feared that others would steal their invention and applied for patents to protect their invention. The U.S. granted them a patent in 1906 which lasted until 1923. Others challenged their monopoly as we shall see. The next time the brothers flew (and the first time as a public demonstration) was in France on August 8^th, 1908 when they kept their plane up for an hour and forty-five minutes. They became international heroes, feted at home and abroad.

Path of flight on October 5th (From exhibit at Huffman Field)

At Huffman Prairie Field on the day I visited, Robert Petersen stood next to a replica of an early Wright Brothers’ plane. A gifted story teller, Robert impressed on the visitors that the day of the importance of this field for the Wrights. It gave them a nearby place to test their models and so was the world’s first air port. The key successes came in 1905. The year before, they had flown 105 flights and were aloft for forty-nine minutes. In 1905, they conducted fifty flights and were in the air for 262 minutes. I asked Robert why Dayton was the right place at the right time for this invention. First, he said that few places in the U.S. had the ability to cast aluminum block engines, but Dayton did. He also stated that Dayton was Invention City—it had more patents per capita than anywhere else in the country. He reeled off some of the inventions that happened here—the electric starter for cars, air conditioning, fast drying paint, the bar code, the step ladder, pop top openers for cans, and the Yellow Pages. The National Cash Register (NCR) not only invented the mechanical cash register in Dayton but it also served as an incubator for people who later created Frigidaire, Delco, IBM, and Lear Jet. Looking out over Huffman Prairie Field, he concluded: “Kitty Hawk was the first powered flight. Here is the rest of the story. There are very few places where you can stand that transformed the world. This is one of those places. I can tell all of world history right here.”

NPS ranger Robert Petersen at Huffman Field (Photo by Hunner)

The Wright Brothers’ success lit a fire under aeronautic innovators around the world. Now that the Wrights had proved that human flight was possible, innovations burst into the air like a covey of quail spooked out of a bush. One of the most prolific innovators was motorcycle pioneer Glenn Curtiss. Here are some of his accomplishments on the heels of the Wrights. The most important was that Curtiss put ailerons on his planes which allowed for greater control of the flying machines. Using the ailerons, Curtiss racked up an impressive list of firsts in aviation history:  he flew the first public flight of a plane in the U.S. in 1908; he built the first commercially available airplane in 1909; he flew from Albany to New York City, a long distance record at the time, in 1910; he earned the first pilot’s license in 1911; he built the first plane that took off from water in 1911 and developed the first flying boat in 1912; he invented the first dual pilot control in 1911; he created the first retractable landing gear in 1911; he produced 6,000 Jenny airplanes for the Allies in World War I; and his Curtiss NC-4 was the first plane to fly across the Atlantic with stops in the Azores in 1919. The Glenn Curtiss Museum in Hammondsport, N.Y. celebrates these accomplishments.

Glenn Curtiss at controls of his early plane (From exihibit at Curtiss Museum)

So why are there two National Park units dedicated to the Wrights, an Air Force Base named after them, and we all know about Wilbur and Orville but not about Glenn? I asked this to the people at the Curtiss Museum. The best answer came from the crew renovating a P-40, the Warhawk fighter, in a workshop behind the main building. Their theory is that the Wrights had deposited their Kitty Hawk plane on display in London. Samuel Pierpont Langley, the director of the Smithsonian Institution, and an aeronautics pioneer in his own right, wanted to secure the plane for the museum. The deal he brokered with the Wrights was that they would donate their plane but the Smithsonian would not mention the accomplishments of Curtiss. As one staff member said when I asked why the lack of recognition, “It’s political.”

An advertisement for Curtiss's school and pontoon plane (From exhibit at Curtiss Museum)

Tom Crouch in his First Flight book covers the controversy. In 1914, the Smithsonian had loaned Director Langley’s unsuccessful plane the Aerodrome to Curtiss who rebuilt and flew it. Then the Smithsonian displayed it as the first machine capable of flight. In 1928, Orville sent their 1903 plane to London’s Science Museum, vowing to keep it there until the Smithsonian acknowledged that the Wright plane was, well the right plane. Finally in 1942, the museum admitted that Langley’s plane was not the first, and the world’s first airplane was unveiled at the Smithsonian on Dec. 17, 1948.[2] Was there an agreement to downplay Curtiss’s innovations? I can’t say.

The Wright Brothers’ had little success in advancing aeronautics after they proved that human flight was possible. They fought with Curtiss and others over infringements on their invention, and some say that Wilbur died in 1919 stressed over these battles. Whatever the subsequent history of aviation, Wilbur and Orville opened the door for human flight and changed our world. Their invention ranks as one of the most revolutionary ones of all time. 

The Wright Brothers National Monument at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina was authorized as Kill Devil Hill Monument March 2, 1923, transferred from the War Department to NPS in 1933, and renamed on December 4, 1953.The Dayton Aviation Heritage National Historical Park was created on Oct. 16, 1992 to preserve the sites in Dayton connected to the Wright Brothers and to honor Paul Laurence Dunbar, a renowned African-American poet and writer who had the Wrights print some of his books.

Next Monday evening, I will post a new blog on Hopewell Culture National Historical Park and the 2,000 year old mounds preserved at that site.

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[1] Tom D. Crouch, First Flight: The Wright Brothers and the Invention of the Airplane (Division of Publications, NPS: Washington, D.C., nd). 56.

[2] Ibid, 100.

Conner Prairie Interactive Park at Indianapolis, Indiana

The outdoor living history museum at Conner Prairie is a real treat. At the park, visitors can travel through much of 19^th century Indiana history from a Lenape Indian village in 1816, to a small community in 1836, to the only Civil War action in the state in 1863. But this is not a place just for history fans. In fact, hundreds of families shared the park with me on the Thursday that I visited. It is great see kids running around high on history.

Conner Prairie is popular with families (Photo by Hunner)

I teach living history at New Mexico State University so I have wanted to visit Conner Prairie for years. It is one of the premier such places in the country. So after I got off Route 66 at St. Louis, I headed to Indianapolis. For those who are unfamiliar with living history, we immerse ourselves in past time periods and pretend that we don’t know anything after that targeted date. For example, at NMSU, we Time Travel to 1912 with local students. That means we do not know about World War I nor the Great Depression nor anything else after 1912. With our Time Travels, we invite local classes from 4^th to 12^th grades to role play with us, and they are ignorant of post-1912 events as well. We call this first person interpretation.

Back to Conner Prairie. Their chief of Interpretation, Dr. Catherine Hughes, gave me a tour of the park. It opened in 1974, which makes it the oldest living history museum in the country. Catherine talked about some of the themes that are important to the park and its interpreters—things like the intersection of history and science which is highlighted in the visitors’ center with interactive exhibits on patents, the electrification of Indiana farms, wind mills, and the importance of flight in the Hoosier state. Since this is the bicentennial of Indiana’s statehood, the celebration of that anniversary figures prominently. 

Dr. Campbell's wife and niece at Prairietown (Photo by Hunner)

Visitors are asked “What inspires a Hoosier artist?” That got me to thinking about what inspires me.

Catherine also mentioned a study that Conner Prairie began in the early 2000s where they put microphones on their visitors and recorded their comments as they interacted with the park’s interpreters.  From this visitor research, they concluded that they “do a lot more talking then listening. We shouldn’t do that.” A telling encounter was at the pottery studio where a mother and daughter were greeted by the interpreter saying “Let me know if you have any questions.” They didn’t stay long and after they left, the daughter asked: “Why are we leaving? You like pottery.” The Mom replied: “He’s busy.”

More listening to the visitors, less talking over them. Less data dump by the interpreters to show that they know their history, and more meaningful conversations with visitors. They dubbed this “Opening Doors.” Here's my observation: portraying someone from the past who doesn't know anything after that time period might hinder having a conversation, and might get in the way of providing context for modern visitors. So I agree that we need more conversations when we interact with visitors. I wonder if doing third person interpretation where one wears costumes from the time period, but talks to guests from today might create more meaningful exchanges than pretending to be living in the past. I must admit, I am surprised that I am saying this since I have taught first person interpretation since 2002. Let's see how I feel after I visit other first person living history parks.

Tethered balloon over the Covered Bridge  (Photo by Hunner)

The initial visual that caught my eye at Conner Prairie was the hot air balloon. To commemorate John Wise’s attempt in 1859 to launch a balloon that would inaugurate airmail service between Lafayette, Indiana and New York, a tethered balloon takes visitors some hundred feet or more above the park. Needless to say, Wise’s airmail service never got off the ground.

The four main attractions for me were the 1816 Lenape village, the 1820s Conner house, the 1836 Prairietown, and the Civil War attack on Dupont in 1863.

The Lenape Village at Conner Prairie is lucky to have Michael Pace, an elder of the Lenape (aka Delaware) tribe from Oklahoma take up residence every summer at their park. He talks about the history of beads and makes a variety of beaded items from bracelets to belts to necklaces. And he talks about the history of his tribe. Originally, the Lenape resided in the eastern New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania area. After contact with Europeans, they moved fourteen times—the most of any tribe in the United States. Now they live in eastern Oklahoma and are the 25^th largest tribe in the country.

Michael Pace, a Lenape elder at the Lenape Village (Photo by Hunner)

While we were talking, a family came up and asked the Lenape name for their son and daughter—Hawk and Estella. After teaching them the names, he and I talked about preservation of native languages. He said of the 539 tribes in the U.S. before contact, only 120 still speak their language. Perhaps by the next generation, only sixty will remain. Without a language, a unique culture struggles to survive.

Michael broke for lunch and as I walked with him to the break room, a seven year old girl rushed out of the Café on the Common and gave him a big hug. He leaned over, taught her how to say hello in Lenape, and told her to go back to her family saying that. When I related this to Catherine, she admitted that Michael got a lot of love at the park.

The Conner House (Photo by Hunner)

William Conner built the house that still looks over the prairie in 1823. He was a fur trader, farmer, land speculator, miller, merchant, and politician. He married a Lenape woman, MeKinges, and had six children with her. In 1816, the state decided to move the Lenape to Missouri, and MeKinges went with her tribe. Other Europeans with Lenape wives went with them to the new reservation, but Conner remained, remarried, and had ten more children.

At the 1836 Prairietown, several houses are open for visitors. I met Elaine, Dr. Campbell’s niece who welcomed me by asking if I needed medical attention. I told her I had a headache and while Elaine admitted she was no doctor, told me I would probably need to get leeched when the doctor returned from his visit to a woman who just had a difficult childbirth. She dropped her character when no one else was around and talked about her background in theater and history. She said that some people try to trip her up. For example, a young boy showed her a cell phone and asked “Do you know what this is?” She replied “No, do you?” When he said of course, she responded, “Then why are you asking me?” First person interpreters find various ways to get around tricky situations like these. I never did see Dr. Campbell, perhaps for the best since I never have liked getting leeched.

Shelf full of  medicine, including leeches at Dr. Campbells' House (Photo by Hunner)

I also dropped by the carpenter’s shop and met Daniel McClure (aka Dennis Adams). He served twenty-six years as an economic analysis for the Army and then was a tech writer for fourteen years. But he has worked with wood since he was young and has always liked visiting living history parks. He makes his own tools and always has something that he is constructing. He admitted that working with tools and making things out of wood helped alleviate the challenges of interpreting for the 85,000 school kids that come through the park every year.

The Carpenter at Paririetown (Photo by Hunner)

The “1863 Civil War Journey: Raid on Indiana” depicts the only town in the state to suffer a Confederate attack. The scene here is the village of Dupont the day after a Confederate force of 2,500 cavalry led by General John Hunt Morgan raided that town in July 1863. I crossed through a covered bridge to get to the site and was directed to a store where Mrs. Gardner recounted the attack. The museum had installed multimedia so that we saw through the windows confederates charging across the bridge, entering the store, and then shooting up the place. Gunshots rang out, a lantern swayed as if hit by a bullet, and shelving collapsed with cans strewn about.

The General Store at the Civil War site (Photo by Hunner)

I then ambled over to First Sargent Josh McClain who put me and several other adults through a marching drill to make sure that we as new volunteers were properly trained to expel the Rebs from Indiana. I was able to talk to him out of character and asked why people should visit Conner Prairie and this Civil War recreation. He replied: “We offer a lot of things for different guests. We can learn a lot from history of where we’ve been and where we’re going. Conversations help build communities.”

Josh McClain, the drill instructor at Dupont (Photo by Hunner)

After the brief basic training, I met Private Allen (aka John) who ushered us into a building that also used multimedia to tell the story of the raid. With video and rotating tableaux, the story of the attack on Dupont, the repel of the Confederate raiders, and the ultimate victory of the Union were shown. 

Mulitmedia presentation at Civil War site (Photo by Hunner) 

Going through the Conner Prairie Interactive Park, I got a good lesson in 19^th century Indiana history. I also learned a lot about how they do living history. Most interpreters are theater people, some with history backgrounds. Opening doors strikes a chord with me and will influence how I do living history and how I teach historical interpretation in the future. Doing first person interpretation is difficult for the interpreters and also for the visitors. Done right, it gives us an experience of living in the past. Conner Prairie Interactive Park does it right.

Map of the park ar Conner Prairie 

From Indianapolis, I drove down the National Road to Dayton, Ohio. Next up on Driven by History—the Wright Brothers and the birth of human flight.