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Saturday, July 19, 2025

A slight on my family's name

As I've stated in other posts, I've been doing some research into my family history and recently found a most curious posting about my namesake ancestor - Gideon Long.  There is very little written about him during the war except this letter from Colonel Morgan to General Hand in August of 1777.

Col Zackwell Morgan to General Hand
August 29th 1777  
May it please your Excy It is with the utmost anxiety that I now inform you that our march is retarded for some time against the natural enemies of our country A few days ago the most horrid conspiracy appeared.  Numbers of the inhabitants of this country have joined in a plot and were assembled together to join the English and Indians. 
This forces me to raise what men were enlisted as well as others to put a stop to this unnatural unheard of frantick scene of mischief that was in the very heart of our country We have taken numbers who confess that they have sworn allegiance to the King of Great Britain & that some of the leading men at Fort Pitt are to be their rulers & heads.  The parties I have out are bringing in numbers of those wretches & they those that confess all agree in their confession that the English French & Indians will be with you in a few days when they were with numbers of others to embody themselves & Fort Pitt was to be given up with but little opposition some are taken that really astonish me out of measure. 
Good heavens that mankind should be so lost to every virtue & sense of their country I am this moment informed that Gideon Long & Jeremiah Long two deserters are gone to Fort Pitt to deliver themselves up should this be the case & as they have been very active in this conspiracy I hope your Excy will punish them as they deserve I am now at Minor's Fort4 with about 500 men & am determined to purge the country before I disband as it would give me much satisfaction to have this matter settled I shall wait yr Excellency's instructions & am with respect your most obed humble serv 
Zack Morgan 
To say this is uncommon is an understatement.  Both Gideon and Jeremiah were mere privates but somehow they were specifically called out from hundreds of other soldiers on the frontier but there is no follow up nor is there any record of what happened at Fort Pitt.

To understand this letter we need a bit of backstory.  When the American Revolution erupted in 1775 the brunt of the fighting was done mostly by men from New England.  Everything changed in as young men joined the war from every colony but there was one problem.  Most governors preferred their men to stay close to home to keep their citizens safe.

It is for this reason George Washington asked Congress to authorize the raising of soldiers from each state that would be part of what he called the Continental Line.  This would be a group of more professional soldiers that would be the backbone of his army of volunteers.  In July 1776, Congress called for the formation of the 8th Pennsylvania as a frontier defense and both Gideon and Jeremiah Long joined this unit.

Western Pennsylvania was in a different situation than most of the states in the east for two reasons:  British forts and their Native American allies. 

The British easy access to threaten their northern and western approaches just about any direction using the St. Lawrence River and the Great Lakes as a mode of travel.  The western base of operations hinged on two forts - Fort Niagara guarding the land between Lake Ontario and Erie and Fort Detroit in the west.

In between the Americans and the British forces were the Native Americans, some of whom had already been moved a couple of times and now lived in the area north of the Ohio River under the Crowns protection.  This is why you don't find any settlements in this state until after the war as it was illegal for colonists to settle in this land. 

That didn't stop American settlers from making forays into this land.  On the other hand, natives had always hunted in Western Pennsylvania, Western Virginia, and Kentucky and no piece of paper could change that. 

Raids by both sides were common and before long a quasi-war existed. 

Settlers would kill natives on sight.  Natives would kidnap and sometimes torture their prisoners.  The British did their best to stop the fighting but once war broke out, they decided to start using their Native American allies as a weapon of war.

That is what the 8th Pennsylvania was tasked to protect when it formed in 1776 and hundreds of young men flocked to join its ranks  Most of the men joined with a thought they would head into the Ohio territory and get payback on the tribes that had been attacking them but circumstances made that impossible. 

The 20,000 man army General Washington commanded in July had dwindled to under 5,000 by December and half of those were scheduled to leave when their enlistments expired at the end of the year.  This is when Thomas Paine wrote his famous words in The Crisis:
"These are the times that try men's souls: The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.
Calls went out to the Continental units all over the country ordering they join the main army "where ever he can be found".  At this time General Washington was massing his troops on the banks of the Deleware River and had a Christmas day engagement with the Hessians.

The 600+ men of 8th Pennsylvania did as they were ordered, marching 300 miles on bad roads through the worst part of winter without tents, without proper provisions or sufficient clothing.  The regiment's 2nd-in-command, James Wilson, wrote this to the commander, Aenas Mackay before departing:
"To march east is disagreeable to me for both officers and men understood when entering the service that we were to defend the western frontier.  Now to leave their families in so defenseless a situation as they will be in their absence seems to give great trouble here.... We are ill provided for a march at this season.  We need tents kettles blankets and clothes that we may not cut a despicable figure in the east I have recommended all to lay aside personal resentment and issued orders to have your soldiers meet at Hannastown by December 15."
Half the of the men deserted the regiment during the journey.  Both commanding officers, Mackay and Wilson, died within days of the unit's arrival at Quibblestown, New Jersey.  A full third of the men that arrived were put on the sick list.  Fifty of them died.  General Washington made this comment on the poor state of the 8th Pennsylvania after he saw them:
"I ... desire that you will order the three new field Officers to join immediately, for I can assure you, that no Regiment in the Service wants them more. From the dissentions that have long prevailed in that Corps; discipline has been much relaxed, and it will require strict care and attention to both Officers and Men to bring them back to a proper sense of Subordination and duty." 
Given the harsh nature of the journey, I don't think it's a far stretch to assume that all of the men in the 8th considered turning back at some point during the winter march.  I doubt any of the soldiers had anything favorable to say about their experiences in the war thus far but in fact, they'd done well in just to get to the American army.  Pennsylvania archival records state Gideon and Jeremiah Long made the grueling trek to New Jersey.

The army itself wasn't in great shape either.  1777 was a tricky time for General Washington as he couldn't allow a repeat of 1776 or it would surely be the end of the revolution.  The British held New York City and parts of New Jersey when campaigning drew to a close.  Knowing the British would need supplies, he ordered his soldiers to remove anything of use between the two armies.  As the winter progressed, the British ranged further from their fortifications to find fresh food or forage for their horses and that's when Washington struck.

The Americans had the advantage of local knowledge and thousands of willing spies in the local population.   As the British forces ranged further from their based they were met with larger numbers of American militia who harassed them eventually forcing the British to rely only on supply ships that had to travel across the ocean. 

Even in its beleaguers state, the 8th got involved in the fighting as soon as they arrived fighting in Rahway, NJ on February 23rd along with dozens of smaller skirmishes.  The unit received a new command staff under Daniel Brodhead on March 27th which began to improve matters but not before a major setback.

The 8th was tasked with guarding one of the outer American outposts at Bound Brook, NJ but expiring enlistments had shrunk the force there to half its size leaving the 8th practically alone.  On April 13, 1777, whether by luck or treachery, 4,000 men under Charles Cornwallis launched the first real British attack of the year.  The British achieved total surprise and the 8th barely escaped, saved only by a lack of coordination by the British forces as they surrounded the area.

The 8th's actions in this engagement drew condemnation from Benjamin Lincoln, the senior commanding officer at the fort, who ordered some soldiers to be executed for their actions during the battle.  Here is General Washington's order granting clemency to these men:
The Commander in Chief (taking into consideration the late distracted State of the 8th. Pennsyl. Battalion, an inquiry into the cause of which he has directed to be made without loss of time) is pleased to suspend the execution of the Sentences of Alexander McKay, David Livinston, John Dilworth, John Edgar, Jacob Knight, John McClaugherry, William Roach, Daniel Clark, John Kirckendal, and Jacob Wilker.
Note we see neither Gideon Long nor Jeremiah Long listed.

If fact the 8th Pennsylvania was starting to improve its fortunes.  Men from western Pennsylvania who'd been unable to join the unit either from desertion or new recruitment.  The unit's numbers swelled to over 600 by the time the ground dried which started the summer campaign.  

British forces at Montreal and Fort Niagara pressed south and east towards Albany, New York.  Washington sent some of his best troops to that area including Daniel Morgan who scoured the 8th Pennsylvania for his rifleman corps.  The rest of the 8th joined with the with three other Pennsylvania regiments (the 4th, 5th, and 11th) to form the 2nd Pennsylvania Battalion which was part of Anthony Wayne's Division.   Records don't show where Gideon or Jeremiah Long went during this time and neither left a written record.

Here is some more detail from an email I sent to my Dad when was making a trip through Greene County and decided to spend an afternoon trying to find Gideon Long's grave (spoiler - he did not find it.  I'm fairly sure I know the spot but it's private property but difficult to know who owns the land.)

Dad,

I thought I’d make a couple of notes for you in case you want to look around Greene county. This is based on some documentation from another Long ancestor named James Overhuls who published research in 1974 John Long’s family that moved to SW Pennsylvania. You can read the whole thing here but I clipped some of my favorite parts:

http://freepages.rootsweb.com/~cfii/genealogy/LongFamiliesOfColonialMaryland.PDF

I’ve also found lots of ther things about Greene County and the Long brothers over the years that you might find interesting for your visit. All words in italics are from a source that I will list. Everything else is me and my opinions/findings. Included is the Homestead and where Gideon and Hannah are buried along with a ton of other details on the area.

I did my best to break it up to be more readable. It is LONG but that’s literal a part of my name.

*****

The Long Family Homestead

This then is the precise spot where John and Ann Herrington Long family were living during the American Revolution; their home farm being on Big Whitely Creek. The second farm west of Monongahela River (with) only the Sarah Province farm intervening on the river side in present-day Monon. Twp. of now Greene Co., Pa.... I once drove by where this property is now supposed to be, but could see no 'old' houses, at least not near modern roads.

From what I understand this homestead was about 500 acres of land (.75 sq miles) and as they were the first settlers no improvements had been made to the area so the house couldn’t be far from the creek. If you go to Greene County, find State Route 88. It is a north-south road that mostly follows the Monongahela River. Whiteley Creek crosses under route 88 just east of Garards Fort on the map, just before that creek drains into the Monongahela. If you stop at that bridge, you’re probably as close to the Long homestead as we’re going to find. As the guy who investigated this above said – he saw no old houses. I’m sure anything they built was of poor quality and would have been torn down long ago.

I suggest going west once you get to Mapletown. It follows Whiteley Creek a couple more times and eventually goes into Garards Fort itself. This was the site of one of two forts in the area during the Revolutionary War period. The other was Statler’s Fort at the mouth of Dunkard Creek, about six miles to the south.

*****

A man with a lack of imagination

On the map of the area you might see two towns that catch your eye. One is called Mapletown. The other is called Bobtown. Both were founded by Bob Mapel in the 1780s. I thought this was funny and decided to include it.

Tory or Whig – Rebel or Loyalist?

Back to the Long Family genealogy. I particularly liked genealogist John Overhul’s insight here. It is conjecture but it does fit.

John Long (1722-1786) was age 53 when the Am Rev. began and which may account for there being no record of his having any military service at this time. Longs are traditionally 'conservative' and with his cavalier Church of England background, one might imagine that John Long would have had 'Tory' feelings at first; but there is absolutely no record either of what his political leaning really were. However, with Indian depredation against the frontier officially encouraged by the British Government; no one there it could seem might be 'Tory' very long. All seven of John Long's sons, as they matured, have records of Rev. military service as evidenced by the scattered records of especially the local militia lists, preserved and printed in various volumes of the Pennsylvania Archives.

A Tory was another name for a loyalist to the king but Southwestern Pennsylvania was an early version of the Wild West during this time. There was little law or policing other than what the people did themselves. I suspect there was little regard for most outsiders.

*****

The confusion surrounding Pennsylvania and Virginia land grants

(You can ignore this section but it provides reasons why the are was so lawless)


The initial settlers of today’s SW Pennsylvania were initially sold their land by the Ohio Company of Virginia, an early type of corporation. They hired Christopher Gist, a man who happened to hail from eastern Maryland, to make a survey of the land in 1750. After a long arduous process because of war and Indian claims, it took the renamed Grand Ohio Company until 1772 to receive permission to begin settlement in earnest. Many moved into the area sooner but the records were all destroyed in a fire.

Brief side note - Pennsylvania’s charter only gave them the land 5 degrees west of the state’s eastern boundary. That would have made the boundary about 50 miles east of Pittsburgh though obviously the leaders of Pennsylvania felt that area should be part of their territory (or at least not part of Virginia). Settlers coming into the area weren’t sure if they were living in Pennsylvania, Virginia, or a new colony that was gaining favor in England named Pittsylvania (proposed by William & Benjamin Franklin).

The Virginia charter didn’t have a western limit which allowed them to claim Ohio and all the land west of that territory to the Pacific. They also saw the Potomac – Monongahela – Ohio rivers as their path to the west which is why they felt they had to have complete access to these three rivers. The Franklin’s proposal would have been the most likely result if not for the American Revolution which ended discussions of boundries until after the war. After the American victory, colony charters no longer mattered and in the spirit of reconciliation Virginia agreed to give up its claims north of the Ohio River and allowed the Pennsylvania border to be extended to include Pittsburgh.

Is is just a coincidence that the surveyor of the land was originally from the same area as the Long family? Maybe. Gideon testified at his pension hearing in 1832 that he’d lived in Greene country for more than 60 years (so earlier than 1772). He never moved away from the area.

*****

Long family Revolutionary War service

First in the fight:

Earliest in the War are Gideon and Jeremiah Long who volunteered in 1776, going east with the 8th Pa. Regiment of the regular army Continental Line and besides fighting, spent the famous winter of 1777-78 at Valley Forge. Later in the war, Gideon says in his pension application, he was with the group which went out to build Ft. McIntosh (Pa.) and onward to Tuscarawas River to build Ft. Laurens, only Rev. fort in now Ohio. Only two of the 'Long' brothers, Gideon and Elial lived long enough or applied for Rev. Soldiers' Pensions.

One thing not mentioned by Mr. Overhuls is the claim by Zack Morgan (founder of Morgantown, WV) of the two serving Long brother’s activities in 1777. This is a long statement by him that I found fascinating (the 2nd paragraph is about the Long brothers).

Col Zackwell Morgan to General Hand – August 29, 1777 – It is with the utmost anxiety that I now inform you that our march is retarded for some time against the natural enemies of our country. A few days ago a most horrid conspiracy appeared. Numbers of inhabitants of this country have joined into a plot and were assembled to join the English and Indians. This forces me to raise what men were enlisted as well as others, to put a stop to this unnatural unheard of frantick scene at the heart of our country. We have taken numbers who confess that they have sworn allegiance to the King of Great Britain & that that some are to be their rulers & heads. The parties I have out are bringing in numbers of those wretches & they (those that will confess) all agree in their confession that the English, French, & Indians will be with you in a few days, when they were with numbers of others to embody themselves, & Fort Pitt was to be taken with little opposition; some are taken that really astonish me out of measure. Good heavens! That mankind should be so lost to every virtue & sense of country.

I am this moment informed that Gideon Long & Jeremiah Long, two deserters, are gone to Fort Pitt to deliver themselves up. Should this be the case, and as they have been very active in this conspiracy, I hope your Exc.will punish them as they deserve. I am now at Minor's Fort with about 500 men, I am determined to purge the county before I disband ... I shall wait your Excellency's instructions, I am wih respect your most humble servant, Zack Morgan (written at Statler’s Fort, in today’s Greene County, PA)

The summer of 1777 in western Pennsylvania was filled with accusations traitors among the population. Rumors abound that the British and their Indian allies would soon arrive and take over the territory with the help of traitors in their midst. It is reminiscent of WW2 and the Japan scare that led to the internment camps. In this case there were British sympathizers and ironically, Zack Morgan’s brother David was actually put on trial but acquitted. Even the man who Zack directed this letter, General Hand - the commander at Fort Pitt, was accused by mobs of being a traitor. Most of the claims were were groundless and I think it is safe to say this is true of the Longs in SW PA at the time.

It’s not like many settlers had much choice as they were caught in the middle. Some settlers had already started to organize to kill natives which led to more retaliation. When the British gave the natives more supplies and asked them to start attacking settlements more earnestly in 1778 the King lost any settlers that might have supported him.

*****

An oddity related to Zackwell Morgan’s note

There is something that trouble me about Zackwell Morgan’s note. It was written at Statlers Fort on August 29, 1777 but we know Zack Morgan was at the battle of Saratoga. NY on October 7, 1777 where he lost half his troops in fierce fighting. Did he march 500+ miles in a month over non-existent roads to get to this battle? That’s 20 miles a day assuming he left right after we wrote the note and knew exactly where to go to find the Colonist forces. It is possible but not likely. It is also possible we are talking about two different Zack Morgans. I know there was another Zack Morgan at the time, Col Morgan’s nephew, but he was a Sergeant. This discrepancy makes me wonder about the timing of this note and I need to research it more.

*****

Did the Long brothers desert the 8th Pennsylvania?

Zackwell Morgan’s note claims the brothers were deserters in headed for Pittsburgh in August, 1777. Yet we have Gideon’s sworn statement at his pension hearing that he joined the 8th Pennsylvania in 1776 for a three year enlistment and that he served his time. During the summer of 1777, the 8th Pennsylvania was either in New Jersey or near Philadelphia. So who is telling the truth?

A little background - The men of the 8th enlisted with the understanding they’d protect the frontier but were ordered east in December 1776 after Washington’s disastrous summer left him with about 3,000 active soldiers. It took well over a month for the annoyed men of the 8th Pennsylvania to make the march to Morristown, NJ. They marched over non-existent roads and were provided with neither consistent food supplies nor shelter during the middle of winter. The two highest ranking officers died due to exposure on the march which added to the confusion. A month later the 8th Pennsylvania was put into the line in an overly exposed position without any support. The British saw this, attacked, and beat the 8th Pennsylvania badly. At this point the 8th been lied to, poorly supported, badly lead and ill-used. At least half had deserted by April, 1777.

Is it possible the two Long brothers in the 8th Pennsylvania deserted? Considering what we know I’d say it’s likely. The note was written at Statlers Fort about about five miles south of the Long homestead and I’m sure the return of two Continental deserters would have a big source of gossip in the area which is why Colonel Morgan learned of it. (though I do think his writing does sound a bit McCarthy in the 1950s - if you read his other correspondence, he was finding Tories everywhere in 1777).

I think it is safe to assume the Long brothers deserted but can we tell when they deserted? Maybe. I think the key is in Gideon’s testimony. These are his words:

That he enlisted in the army of the United States in the month of August 1776 for three years under Captain John Wilson in Greene (then Washington) County Penn where he now resides. That he marched to Kettanning where he joined his regiment (the 8th Pennsylvania Regiment) commanded by Colonel Enos McCoy ____ and Colonel George Wilson, Major Butler ___ ______ his Captain was John Wilson aforesaid marched from there, over the mountains and experienced much hardship and exposure. Went to Phila. Went from there to Morristown New Jersey and joined the main army under General Washington ____ marched to Boundbrook Jersey. There returned by rapid march across the Delaware and went to the Valley Forge where they remained in winter quarters

Boundbrook is where the British attacked the 8th Pennsylvania on April 13th, 1777. You can read about it here if you are interested –https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Bound_Brook. The next statement is about Valley Forge but the army didn’t move into Valley Forge until December 19th, 1777. There’s eight months missing and it isn’t like nothing happened that summer. 1777 was the most consequential year of the war. The 8th Pennsylvania was a big factor at the Battle of Brandywine (30 miles southwest of Philadelphia) on September 11, 1777 -

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

So why doesn’t Gideon mention this battle? He mentioned later excursions up Susquehanna and the building of Forts Laurens and McIntosh but not the time he actually faced the British? It seems unlikely that he would omit this unless he didn’t want to state something untruthful under oath.

I suspect Gideon and Jeremiah deserted sometime in April, 1777 to help their family plant crops and groused half the summer about their time in the army. They eventually began to feel guilty for leaving their buddies and eventually decided to go to Pittsburgh to present themselves to the commanding officer for service.

This wasn’t uncommon. Desertion during the revolution happened continously and Washington was usually lenient as he took whatever service he could get from the men. It sounds like Gideon and Jeremiah were sent back to their unit so they arrived in time to spend a very cold winter at Valley Forge. The remainder of Gideon’s testimony sounds like he was present at all the 8th Pennsylvania’s major events so I suspect this was the only time it happened.

*****

Friendship Hill National Park

This park sits a couple of miles east of the Long family homestead on the other side of the Monogahela. This 600 acre park was once a farmstead owned by Albert Galletin who emigrated from Switzerland to the United States in 1780. He originally settled in New England and even was offered a teaching position at Harvard but he grew bored deciding instead to move to Western Pennsylvania and become a farmer. That didn’t hold him long as the people in the area elected him to serve on the state’s constitutional convention. That led to stints in both the US Senate and the US House of Representatives. In 1801 Thomas Jefferson asked him to be his Secretary of the Treasury as did James Madison. After that he served as ambassadors to both Great Britain and France.

Albert Gallentin’s public service ended in 1827 and he returned home but he didn’t stay long. He sold Friendship Hill in 1832 and moved to Astoria in New York City where he died in 1849.

While the Longs and the Galletins were neighbors, I’m sure they didn’t see Albert very often as was rarely around. I suspect they knew the children quite well.

*****

Long Brothers Later War Service (1779 - 1783+)

The 8th Pennsylvania disbanded in 1779 as the men had only signed up for three years and few were willing to sign up again for service that might send them back east. It was around this time the commander at Fort Pitt began to rely on what were called ‘ranger’ units. These were militia units (as opposed to regular Continental unit like the 8th Pennsylvania) that drilled in local areas under elected leaders. Each unit was only as successful as the leader’s ability to attract more men. Dozens of these units protected the Pennsylvania/Virginia frontier during this time, all nomially under the command of General Brodhead in Pittsburgh. Here is what the genealogist has to say about the service of the Long brothers:

All seven of John Long's sons, as they matured, have records of Rev. military service as evidenced by the scattered records of especially the local militia lists, preserved and printed in various volumes of the Pennsylvania Archives. At one time, 1782 (Pa. Archives, Series 6, Vol. 2, pgs, 18-19) all seven "Long" boys were in the same Militia Co., under their neighbor, Capt. John Guthrey, with Gideon Long being the Ensign, and our particular ancestor Noah Long, one of the privates.

Also in 1782, the eldest of John's sons, David Long is listed in a Capt. Reed's Co. which is presumed to have travelled into Ohio on the ill-fated Col. Crawford's 'Sandusky Expedition' (David is reported pg. 607 in Biog. Cyclopedia of Butler Co. O.)Dto have been scalped, but lived; -- perhaps such wound was received at this time?)

… Many expeditions down the Ohio River or into Indian territory of what later became Ohio originated at this time in the Longs' Monongahela (Redstone) neighborhood. No doubt the Longs or their friends remembered the fine lands to be seen here when a few years later the Ohio territory was opened to settlement; and some of the Longs again turn their eyes westward.

I particularly like the last line. I know Noah went to live in Butler County Ohio. We know where Gideon’s son Solomon went as he was the start of the Long family tree in Knox County.

*****

Reverend Corbly

Here’s some information Mr. Overshun found of the connection of the Long family to one of Greene County’s more famous founders:

Rev. Corbley est'd in 1769 the only church near to our 'Long' in Greene Co. -- the 'Goshen' or 'Whitely' Baptist on Big Whiteley Creek at nearby Garrard's Fort, Pa. The 'Minutes' of this church (copy at D.A.R. Memorial Library, Wash. D.C.) show however, that our 'Long', only the Jeremiah Long family and Hannah Phillips (Mrs. Gideon) Long were regular members.

Members of the Long family attended Goshen/Whitely Church in Garrard’s Fort but it appears Gideon didn’t go though his wife Hannah did which means we Knox county Longs weren’t the first to skip Sunday church.

*****

Corbly Massacre

Reverand Corbly is most famous because of an Indian raid in 1782 that massacred a part of his family near Garards Fort. Here is an account:

The massacre occurred on Sunday morning, May 10, 1782. A party of Indians was on “Indian Point,” an elevation of land from which they could see John Corbly’s cabin, the log meetinghouse which was located on the edge of the graveyard, and the fort which was about four hundred yards east of the meetinghouse. Because of a rise of ground the fort was out of view of the massacre, but it was within hearing distance, for the screams of the Corbly family were heard there and in a very few minutes men on horseback rushed out from the fort to give help

The Corbly family had left their home and were proceeding on their way to worship where Mr. Corbly was to preach, when it was discovered that the Bible, which he thought was in Mrs. Corbly’s care, had been left at home. He returned to get it and then followed his family, meditating upon the sermon he soon expected to preach.

The Indians descended the hill, crossed Whitely Creek, and filed up a ravine to the place, about forty-nine rods (270 yards) north of the present John Corbly Memorial Baptist Church, where the helpless family was massacred.

You can read more about it here if you wish – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corbly_Family_massacre. The Corbly family lived one mile north of Garrard’s Fort on Long’s Run which emptied into Whiteley Creek. I find it hard to believe the name Long’s Run is just a coincidence but I’m having trouble finding it on a map. Perhaps it was renamed over the years.

As this happened in 1782, all seven of the Long boys were then serving with ranger units. I expect at least one was in the fort at the time but there aren’t specific records. Here is what is said to have happened next:

The lives of John Corbly and John, Jr., were no doubt saved by the quick action of the men in the fort who hastened on horseback to the scene of the massacre as soon as the first screams were heard. While some of the men who went out brought members of the Corbly family to the fort, others followed the savages as far as the Ohio River. When the Indians crossed into hostile territory, it was thought best not to pursue them further.

*****

Gnaddenhutten Massacre

For what it is worth, this raid was almost surely in retaliation for the March 1782 massacre of 96 peaceful Delaware women and children at Gnaddenhutten in Ohio by several detachments of ranger units.

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

Atrocities weren’t only committed by one side. Western Pennsylvania was filled with people who were a law unto themselves and at least in public, most involved refused to admit they were there. It is rumored David Long was involved but there is little evidence beyond the fact his ranger unit took part. He wouldn’t have been convicted by a jury even if the government decided to charge him. A couple of years after the massacre, the man who organized the Gnadenutten massacre was elected sheriff of Pittsburgh.

None of the other Long brothers were ever implicated in the Gnaddenhutten massacre.

*****

Crawford Expedition

Throughout the war, General Washington pressed his western generals to move to the fight to the natives in Ohio, the most hostile of whom had moved their towns further from the settlers into northwest Ohio. Washington’s eventual goal was to capture Fort Detroit so the American’s could claim it during the peace negotiations. Of course taking this area wasn’t easy as there weren’t any roads in Ohio and there was no river they could use as a supply route from their base in Pittsburgh to Detroit.

This is why Gideon Long helped build Fort Laurens in December 1778 but the location was so isolated that it had to be abandoned after a year. The truth was the American government didn’t have enough money to fund a true invasion.

Washington and his generals decided they had to take a different tack. Instead of a well supported invasion with Detroit as the goal, the goal in 1782 would be a focus on destroying the native villages along the Sandusky River. For funding, they would ask the people of Western Pennsylvania themselves. Every volunteer had to provide a horse, a rifle, ammunition, and rations for a month’s journey. Their only payment would be whatever they plundered from the natives.

While this sounds like a deal few might take up, volunteers from the ranger units streamed into Pittsburgh after the Corbly massacre in early May. Eventually there were about 500 in total. Because this wasn’t a regular army campaign the men got to elect their officers. To gauge the mood of the men, all you need to know is the men almost voted in as their leader the same the man who led the massacre at Gnaddenhutten. He would have won if not for a plea on the commanding general at Fort Pitt. Instead the honor went to William Crawford, a good friend of General Washington.

The volunteers left camp on May 25, 1782 with Washington’s stated goal “to destroy with fire and sword (if practicable) the Indian town and settlement at Sandusky”. It took ten days to get to their destination but they found the town deserted. That was a warning sign that the natives were prepared but they decided to march on.

Surprise was their best hope for victory but in reality the British and the natives knew the American plans before they broke camp. Tribes from all over were summoned and the British responded as well. It is estimated that about 350 natives and 100 British rangers lay in wait north of the abandoned town near today’s Carey, Ohio.

The battle raged for two days but slowly turned as more native forces arrived. The Americans decided to retreat during the 2nd night but many got lost in the darkness. 70 out of a total of 500 men never made it back to Fort Pitt. Many more were wounded including David Long who was said to have been scalped on the Crawford Expedition but survived the ordeal.

Colonel Crawford was captured and burned on a stake after being tortured for a day.

The other Long brothers weren’t able to go on the Crawford Expedition as they served in a different ranger unit. The way the story goes, they wanted to go. After all, the Corbly Massacre practically happened in their back yard. As they were about to leave they received a report of natives raiding towns in western Virginia and protecting the settlements took precedence over vengeance. So while David was losing his scalp, the other Long brothers spent a fruitless summer chasing natives through very tall mountains without result.

It was just as well. Considering 1 in 8 died on the Crawford expedition, the odds weren’t good all of them would have made it.

*****

Whiskey Rebellion

Reverend Corbley isn’t just known for the massacre of his family. He was a fierce proponent of individual rights and especially the rights of the people in western Pennsylvania. He was so prominent in his protest that he became one of the twenty men arrested at the end of the Whiskey Rebellion in 1794.

I have no direct evidence that any of the Long’s were involved in the Whiskey rebellion but I’d be shocked if most weren’t to some degree. I know Gideon’s brother Jeremiah had a distillery in the 1790s. Most farmers in the area turned their corn into alcohol because it was easier to ship. When President Washington sent 12,000 troops to the pacify the area, the ‘rebellion’ collapsed. Only two men of the arrested men were convicted and the president pardoned both.

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

*****

Cumpston Cemetery

This is the cemetery where Gideon is supposed to be buried. It is on private property near Davistown which according to the map is northeast of Bobtown. Here’s one of the notes I found online:

By 1961 (Cumpston) Cemetery in Dunkard Township was badly overgrown and hard to find and enter but by 1964 had been cleaned up and fenced. On private property, it may be located on a hill originally owned by CUMPSTONS, then ROBERTS and now unknown.

Another person wrote:

I beleive we own the property that you are talking about...I know this post is old but I came across this by accident. We inherited the farm from my grandparents which I beleive they bought from the Roberts which they bought from the Cumpstons....there is a cemetary at the top of the hill...I would love to have old photos of the place if anyone has..There are still remnants of the old fireplace...rah

These were old notes with little follow up. I have no idea where it is located and these posts were from a long time ago so this doesn’t tell us the current state. Reading the history it sounds like some of the Cumpstons changed their name to Compton when they moved to Ohio. Probably no relation to the Comptons we know but I found it interesting.

https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/120701870/gideon-long

https://www.findagrave.com/cemetery/2521126/cumpston-cemetery

The Find – A – Grave site 12 names listed at the Cumpston Cemetery with Gideon (1834) and his wife Hannah (1850) as the oldest. Their son Benjamin Franklin Long (1884) and his wife Nancy (1861) were listed as was Benjamin/Nancy’s daughter – Isabel (1882) who married James Cumpston (1893). The other names are mostly Isabel and Jame’s kids.

Considering this is private property and obviously a family cemetery two things are clear.

  • This was originally Gideon Long’s family cemetery. It got the name because his granddaughter Isabel Long married James Cumpston.

  • As this is a family cemetery and at one point owned by the Cumpston’s, it is likely this land was first owned by Gideon Long and the surrounding land was probably his last residence. He gave it to his son Benjamin Long who gave it to his daughter Isabel and her husband.

The bottom line - I demand a name change if we can ever find the place!

For what it is worth, Jeremiah Long is buried in Garards Fort Cemetery. It’s right next to John Corbly Baptist Church in Garards Fort. That’s the same church Hannah attended when Gideon slept in on Sundays. I wonder if that’s why Gideon was buried on his own land instead of in the church plot.


Monday, May 23, 2022

The first thought

 Do you remember your first thought?

I have a memory that has stuck with me since I had it even though I don't know exactly when it occurred.  

I remember looking around a room.  It was in a kitchen large enough to have a small table where my Mom, my grandmother, and another woman sat drinking coffee.  The kitchen was dark and it smelled old and as this was fifty years ago, the decor looked like something even then you'd only see on an old TV show.

As the women talked and talked, I looked around.  The house was on a hill and I looked through the window to see sunlight.  In the sunlight I remember seeing hills and trees and flowers.  As I watched, I remember feeling like I'd woken up from a dream but as it had never woken up before, I remember being excited.  One second I didn't know I existed and the next second I did.

I could vaguely understand what the women were saying.  Our family was about to move.  My Mom was visiting people in the neighborhood and saying goodbye.  I tried to respond but they couldn't understand me.  It made me angry and I began to cry.

My crying caused my Mom to pick me up and that's when the memory ends.  After that all is lost in the millions of other memories I've forgotten over the years.

But this one stuck because it was so vivid.  When I got older I tried to explain it to my Mom.  I described the kitchen in as perfect a detail as i could remember hoping to figure out the identity of the other person.  The refrigerator and stove were an ugly eggshell blue you now see on antiques from the 1950s but honestly that could have been imperfect memory gotten from my TV watching.  The feeling of waking up was definitely real.

I've relayed this memory to my Mom a couple of times but she smiled when I told her.  I was only two-years-old when we moved.  She said I was too young to remember.  I swear it was different.  I remember seeing green grass and there was none where we moved.

That feeling stayed with me.  I remembered it after we moved and I remember it now.

I think of that day a lot.  It reminds me of that moment when things went from all confusion to an understanding of being alive.  To me, that's the point when humanity begins.  Everything up to that point, humans are no different than cows or chicken or dogs.  Everything is instinct.  After that, we are alone in the ability to be self-aware (as far as we know - perhaps my dog is as frustrated as I was back then with my inability to speak and be understood).

When people talk about souls or the spark of life, I think about that moment.  I went from a passive observer to active participant.  The passive world isn't far away, we return to the every night when we close our eyes and go to sleep.

It also makes me wonder about death.  At some point we all close our eyes and that spark goes out.  Christians believe your soul leaves your body and ascends to a different plane of existence.  That's a nice thought but I find it hard to believe.

Instead, I think we close our eyes and return to sleep.

I'll grant you, the thought of eternal slumber isn't as nice as a heaven but I don't find it scary.  We weren't scared when woke and we shouldn't be when we return to slumber.  It's all just part of the unending cycle of the universe.  It reminds me of a song from the Byrds, here's the first verse:

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal 
A time to laugh, a time to weep

Almost every word of this song comes from Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.  It's a nice thought and it's things like this I think about when people, like those in the atheist community, bash the Bible for being irrelevant in today's society.  Like the song says, there is a season for every purpose and even non-believers like me can get something from its words.

Sunday, May 08, 2022

The Blizzards of 1977 and 1978

 A child's memory is imperfect and that's part of the learning process.  We see, we hear, and we learn.  Years later we remember something that didn't make sense at the time and it sometimes you realize truths that didn't make sense.

My life as a child was simple.  The area where I grew up was a farming community built around a granary railroad stop.  To a child's eyes, the fields of corn surrounding the town created an oasis, a bubble.  The town numbered about 400 people but it had a long proud history.  We had a grocery store, a hardware store, a gas station, a library, and two churches.

Every holiday the town gathered around the town hall in celebration.  My personal favorite was Memorial Day where after a few boring words from the mayor, we all walked to the town's cemetery where every family visited their ancestors and shared their stories.  Us kids pretended to care as we placed flags on all the graves.  Most of our minds were already fixated on the free ice cream bar the town grocery would give once this task was completed.

My hometown was perfect to a child's eyes.  I lived three blocks from the school which might be a long distance in a place like New York City but blocks in my hometown consisted of four houses built in a square.  I could leave my house three minutes before the school bell rung and still get to class on time.

Like I said.  Perfect.

One of the other great things about growing up in a farming community was the snow days.  Because of the size of the farms, our town's school buses had to travel for many miles through all sorts of terrain.  Most of the area had once been heavily wooded but many of the trees had been cut down so farmers could plant more corn.  Poor roads and snowdrifts meant getting to the farmer's kids was impossible so my school was always always the first to close.  The kids who lived in the town met at the school to play.

Perfect.

Our school wasn't big.  My 4th grade class had 28 students.  My brother's class had 20 students with 18 of them boys.  The odds of this happening is about 1 in 100 but I'm sure this type of gender disparity wasn't totally uncommon for schools like ours with small sample sizes.  Either way, neither I'm sure neither girl had a problem getting a date for the prom.

Many of the people who lived in town did so because they provided services for the surrounding farms.  My maternal great-grandfather first moved to the town to find work as a for-hire farmer laborer and did this for most of his life.  My maternal grandfather had bigger dreams, eventually buying a milk truck and made a living delivering milk to a dairy processing plant in nearby Columbus.  Each generation found their own way to fit into the town's social structure but the times were changing.

By the 1970s the farming business wasn't the same as it had been twenty years earlier.  Agribusiness, mechanization, and consolidation were in full force meaning most of the people that could once find steady work were now headed for factory or office jobs in the city.

That's what my Mom did, finding work at a small accounting office just west of downtown Columbus.  My Mom and Dad had gotten a divorce a few years earlier and money was tight though my brother, sister, and I didn't notice.  We always had food on the table and clothes on our backs.  As far as we were concerned, life couldn't be better.  After all, my hometown was perfect.

The winter of 1977 was cold.  Most of the winters of that decade were colder than we see today but it has little to do with climate change.  The winters of the decade were colder than Ohio had seen in many decades for reasons I don't understand.  All I knew was even with my short walk, I needed wear mittens or I wouldn't be able to feel my hands by the time I got into school.

In January of 1977 there were 26 straight days of below zero temperature.  The three days of January 16-18 hit 20 below zero.  Us kids were both excited and sad because while our school closed it was much too cold to play outside and too cold to visit a friend's house.  We didn't have Playstations back then so my brother, sister, and I had to make do with games like Monopoly while we tried to stay warm.

Staying warm was a problem for most of the Midwest that year.  The constant cold temperatures meant  the usage of natural gas was at an all time high, far beyond the amount the utility company was able to procure.  They started sending out warnings of outages the last week of January and that's when the blizzard of 1977 hit.

It's at this point I must restate that a child's mind is imperfect and I'm telling this story from a child's point of view.  I was nine years old when the blizzard hit in January of 1977.  When people talk about Ohio blizzards of the 1970s most people assume you are talking about the 1978 blizzard and I'll get to that eventually.  It was the 1977 blizzard that first pierced my childhood veil of perfection but my recall isn't perfect.  Over the years both storms have blended in my memory so it is hard separate them.

Most employers don't have much sympathy when it comes to being at work on time.  Most of them give four unplanned sick days sick and two weeks of scheduled vacation.  Anyone who misses too much time can expect to find themselves on that unemployment time in the near future.

That's the situation my Mom faced the last week in January of 1977.  She didn't make a lot of money and while the conditions were worsening, she had to go to work.  I don't remember her leaving but I'm sure she gave each of us a kiss and gave the baby sitter instructions.

The roads were treacherous, the street crews had put down a mix of salt and water in hopes of clearing the streets but that mixture doesn't work when the temperature is below freezing.  Instead, the streets had turned to ice.

I don't remember the blizzard exactly, I only remember the aftermath.  I know my Mom had trouble getting home.  Our county was declared a disaster area.  Our town was declared the worst of them all.  I'm think my Mom got stuck at a friend's house in the city for a couple of days while the county cleared the roads.  I do know it took weeks for the snow plows to get the icy mess off our roads.

A couple days later we went to school a few days later to find another disaster had occurred.

The natural gas company had run out of gas during the storm and many large buildings throughout the state had been unable to stay warm.  Our school was one of them and during the freeze some of the buildings pipes had burst and flooded.  To this day, I'm still not exactly sure what happened, all I know for sure is the room was really cold as the teacher handed us folder with a long list of homework.  We weren't in the school for more than an hour before we were sent home.  School wouldn't be back in session for another month.

The celebrations by all the students were immense as we left the school.  We'd been given early summer vacation and few of us thought about the bigger implications.  How would we do our homework if we didn't have a teacher?  Most of our parents worked all day and we'd be left on our own devices.

In the wake of years-long pandemics these concerns may seem quaint but back then we had no ability to meet with our teachers over the internet.  One good thing was our school wasn't the only one affected.  Columbus City Schools also had closed some of its schools and came up with a solution using Public TV.

Most mornings PBS ran shows like Sesame Street and the Electric Company.  In February of 1977 the kids of Central Ohio were expected to watch PBS where teachers from various grades put on lessons in various subjects.  It was an idea ahead of its time and a bit of an over reach.

There weren't enough babysitters in town for all us kids so many of us were sent to a lady who lived in a house next to the church.  The first day she sat us down to watch PBS but the problems became clear right away.  First of all, each grade was only given an hour of TV time and this was an era before VCRs.  If you missed the show, you missed it.  Even if you did happen to see your show, the homework we'd been given usually had nothing to do with the stuff they were discussing on the TV.  The teachers of Columbus created lesson plans for the students of Columbus, not my hometown.

Every day the lady sat us down to watch PBS.  Every day we watched and grew more frustrated.  It didn't take long for us to sneak outside to go play.  I like to think I made it longer than most.  I  do remember her futile complaints but we outnumbered her and it didn't take long until she gave up.  Her one defiance was to keep her TV tuned to PBS all day as a constant reminder that we should be studying.

Of course we weren't in the house very often.  A good friend of mine became a hero when said he found a new sledding hill near the cemetery.  It took the better part of a day to clear all the brush.  It only took a single run to find agreement we'd created the best sledding hill in town.  

It had only been a few years earlier that I'd gotten my red Flexible Flyer sled.  In previous years, it proved to be inconvenient as the metal runners dug too deep in shallow snow, grabbing the ground instead of sliding easy like a flatter toboggan sled.  That wasn't a problem in the January of 1977 and everyone wanted a turn on my speedy sled.  We spent much of the next month on that hill.

And yet it was still cold.  Not as cold as January but still cold enough that we had to return to the babysitters house where PBS channel was still running.  If you've ever watched PBS you will remember the little ditty at the end of every show.  It's not a very catchy jingle but it is distinctive to PBS and they run it to this day.  To this day, hearing it gives me a sense of dread.

The weeks passed by and my homework sat unfinished.  It wasn't until a week before we were supposed to go back to school that I picked up the folder full of homework.  I did my best to fill out a couple of pages but most of it didn't make sense without guidance.  I returned to school knowing myself to be a complete failure.

I knew most of my friends hadn't done their homework either but I saw the girl next to me had cursive writing on every single page.  I asked her if she'd gotten her answers by watching PBS and she laughed as she said no.  It eventually dawned on me that the only kids that did their homework were the ones who lived on a farm.  They had no way to come to town to play with the rest of us.

The teacher took our homework and put it in a big brown box.  I worried every day for a couple of weeks about how much trouble I'd be in when she finally got to mine.  Eventually I couldn't stand it anymore and I asked her about it after class once day.  She smiled and said not to worry.  That night, I got my first restful sleep in a month.

I later figured out the teacher knew we wouldn't do the homework.  The school didn't have the money to extend classes a month into the summer.  The brown box of unfinished homework was the school's proof we'd been learning while the school was closed.  It was a secret between us kids and our teachers.

A couple months later a furor rose in town about some grave placards that had been defiled.  The deep snow had hidden them from view during our February excursions but the spring thaw showed extensive damage, some of which that looked like the ruts of a sled.  My family was interred on the other side of the graveyard but that didn't stop my grandmother from stating aloud what she'd do if she ever caught the culprits.  She never found out one of the main ones was within arms reach.

The Blizzard of 1977 passed from memory quicker than expected.  While the month of January 1977 had the most snow ever recorded in town history the record would only last a year.

*****

The winter of 1978 started out much milder than 1977.  It was warmer for most of the month but that warmth brought moisture from the south.  On some days it was warm enough to turn into icy rain and which meant crews put down a mix of salt and water to clear the roads.  This works well when temperatures are near freezing.  They didn't know what was coming.

Most weather forecasters didn't predict the severity of the Blizzard of 1978.  The accounting firm where my Mom worked was in a time crunch to produce W-2s by the end of the month so she stayed in Columbus and got us a babysitter to stay with us Tuesday evening, January 24th.

The next morning, January 25th, a water-laden storm from the gulf pressed north into the Ohio Valley and met a low pressure system heading south from the Arctic.  It created the 3rd lowest barometric reading ever recorded in North America.  The two met somewhere in Ohio and it felt like it it was directly over my house.

Central Ohio had already received about 20 inches of snow in January and over the next few days we'd get another two feet.  It was impossible to know how much snow an area received because no one could go outside in the 50-70 mile per hour wind gusts.

As the rain turned cold and the winds started to blow, memories of a year earlier returned but it was clear this storm was more intense than the previous storm.  Icy power lines meant we lost power early in the storm.  I'm pretty sure the phone lines still worked because we got a call from my Mom at some point that morning.

As you might imagine the baby sitter was freaking out.  She was fifteen years old at most and responsible for taking care of three kids in the middle of a natural disaster.  Her Mom agreed to take us in but the problem was getting there.  My brother had spent the morning in bed with the flu and wasn't  in great shape to travel.

I've always had an inventive mind though admittedly some of them seem ridiculous in hindsight.  It was my idea to strap my brother to my sled and pull him through the blizzard.  My babysitter wasn't in a position to argue.  She had long since passed the point of coherent thought as she just wanted to go home.

The neighbor lived two blocks away though it was on the exact opposite end meaning we'd have to go up one street and down another.  As we didn't have any idea how long we'd be gone we didn't want to leave empty handed.  I think my sister grabbed a board game.  I'm sure I grabbed something too.  My brother didn't.

I have to admit I was excited when we opened the door to go into the storm.  It seemed fun until the cold wind hit me in the face.  I used a rope to tie my sled to me and then tied my brother on the sled.  Some of the drifts in the front yard were taller than both of us but we found a place where we could pass.  It was only when I got to the open area on the street that I realized just how hard the wind was blowing.  I put my head down and pulled as hard as I could but a strong gust of wind flipped my brother over on his side.

I don't think he'd ever really liked my sled idea in the first place but if he complained the wind made it impossible for me to hear.  I remember pulling the empty sled behind me as I followed my brother the rest of the way.

As I've said earlier, I could make the three blocks to school in under three minutes but the trip to my neighbors house took much longer.  The wind pushed us around though unlike our babysitter my brother, sister, and I did have the advantage of being closer to the ground.  I have no idea how long it took but in my mind it was an hour.  It was probably closer to five minutes.

Our babysitter's Mom didn't seem especially glad to see us when we arrived and the baby sitter disappeared without a goodbye.  We were shown to a corner and given a blanket.  I spent most of the next day in that spot, huddled and trying to stay warm.

There was to be no playing outside this time.  The mix of ice and snow gave every snowdrift a sharp edge and the neighbor wasn't nearly as easily cowed as our babysitter from the previous year.  

That doesn't mean I never got outside.  The next day the winds had died down and the neighbor needed someone to get food from the store.  As I was the oldest boy in the house, I insisted I should be the one the get them.  I'm sure the girls thought my insistence silly.  It was still quite cold.  I'm sure they were happy to let me go in their stead.

I pulled my sled down the same path we'd taken from my house.  It didn't seem like the same street now that the winds had died down.  When I got to the main street I looked for the sidewalk but it was buried under a couple feet of snow.  Instead I walked down the middle of the street, with each step coming almost to my crouch as I trudged through the icy mix.

I wasn't in any danger of being hit by a car.  There weren't any cars on the road.  Once again, it would be a while before the roads were cleared.  I think the store clerk was surprised to see me.  The shelves were fully stocked and few people had stopped by all day.

My Mom couldn't get out of Columbus.  Like many motorists, the combination of cold and snow had stopped her car dead.  It wouldn't start.  Eventually my Dad showed up and we spent the next week at his house.

As the skies cleared and the roads were plowed we returned to my hometown to see huge mounds of snow lining the streets.  It was obvious the storm a year earlier hadn't been nearly as bad.  That excited me because if we'd missed a month of school in 1977, they'd keep us out at least two months in 1978.

I was to be sadly disappointed.

School started the next week and the snow was gone quicker than seemed possible.  When we returned, all of my friends regaled me with their stories.  The thing I didn't know was the blizzards of 1977 and 1978 weren't done affecting my life.

A few years earlier my grandfather had sold his milk route which had enabled him to buy a big farm in the country.  Part of his dream was to do a little farming but I think his main goal was to live there in retirement as a place his grandchildren could visit.  In the winters, he and my grandmother lived in Florida which is why they weren't around to help when the blizzards hit.

The truth was we hadn't seen as much of him ever since he'd moved even if it was only a mile.  After two years of weather based separations, my Mom determined she had to move us closer to her workplace so that could never happen again.

So we left our perfect little town that I realized wasn't so perfect after all.  The outside world had come crashing in and destroyed that illusion forever.

The funny thing is when I think back to my childhood I often think back to the blizzards.  I remember the fun in the midst of the fear and dread.  I knew something had changed even if I couldn't put it into words at the time.  Both blizzards resulted in a loss of innocence I never got back.  It happens to every child at some point.

It took time but I eventually realized the world isn't a perfect place and my town wasn't perfect either.  Leaving it allowed me to grow in ways that never would have happened if I'd stayed and yet I still find myself longing for those long forgotten days riding down the hill on my Flexible Flyer.

I suppose that is true for all of us.

Monday, May 31, 2021

When facing the enemy...

I met the enemy face to face yesterday.  

I had just finished workout and as my body doesn't recover like it used to, I headed for the hot tub in hopes of easing the aftereffects.  The hot tub itself is huge and can easily fit 20 people and because I'm not big on idle chit-chat, I wear a pair a headphones so I can listen to a podcast while I soak.

Most times the hot tub is empty but yesterday I wasn't that lucky.  The man started talking as soon as I entered the room but I couldn't hear him so I had to turn off my headphones.  He continued to talk though I was too far away to hear over the sound of the whirlpool's action.  In hindsight I wish I had hit the record button on my cell phone as what followed still doesn't seem believable.

He said, "All those vaccines have nanites in them."

Those were the first words I heard and while they came as a shock, I really shouldn't have been surprised.  As I waded past him I noticed he wore a hat in the hot tub.  No one wears a hat to a hot tub unless they want someone to see it.  His read 'Gun Owners for Trump'.  I hadn't noticed before entering because the hat's coloring scheme was two-tone camouflage which made seeing the words impossible from more than 10 feet away.

For the past year most of America has sat in isolation seeing images of the other.  Black vs White.  City vs. Rural.  Biden vs Trump.  Now we are finally more able to venture out and meeting one another and the first results aren't encouraging.

These days many people who proclaim to love freedom have willing taken labels that has replaced free thought.  Sometimes I wonder how many of us really listen to the words we hear but instead take marching orders from our group without question.  The ability to pick and chose our own news source has conditioned us to toe the line for our side.  I'm sure he made some assumptions about me since I am white, over 50, and male.  In America these days, that demographic means there's an 80% chance you're a Trump voter and also more likely anti-vaxx.  People just assume.

My first reaction was to call him a 'fucking idiot'.  Nothing frustrates me more than stupid people and this was a stupid statement.  I am not the type to look for confrontation especially with someone whose hat proclaims he has a gun, though I doubt he had one under his swimming trunks.

"Oh?"  I decided to see where the conversation might lead.

"They got video of them injecting someone and then using a magnet to pull the nanites back to the person's skin.  You can only see it viewed under a black light though."

"Really?"  

I wasn't really sure how to respond but I know I had a hundred thoughts going through my brain right then.  The man clearly wasn't vaccinated and by law should have been wearing a mask obviously me pointing it out would have been useless.  I wasn't wearing my mask because I am fully vaccinated though I do wear it in enclosed places where distancing is impossible or in places clearly marked as needing masks.

This guy looked to be about 70 years old with broad shoulders and a beer gut that that mostly likely caused the scale to tip somewhere north of 250 lbs.  In other words, a prime candidate for problems if he caught Covid but I didn't dare ask.  I really didn't want a follow up questions, as I didn't want an argument and I have a bad tendency to go from 0 to 100 when I get angry.

I asked, "Can people who've gotten the shot get these nanites out with magnets?"

"Oh no.  The chips  are embedded in their brains now.  They haven't started transmitting yet though."

"Interesting."  At this point I have to admit being a bit worried.  Even the most logical among us has that brief thought of 'What if he's right?'.  I mean it sounds crazy but it's human nature to think through the crazy.  'Nah'.  I told myself after a brief internal discussion.  'It's an insane theory.'  I mean, hell, if a global conspiracy wanted to put chips in us, there are a thousand other ways to do it.  A global pandemic and a vaccine that anyone could put under a microscope is very public.

That did lead me to the logical next question.

"Who is controlling the chips?"  I knew the answer could only be a half dozen places.  I honestly expected him to say the Jews.  Bill Gates was another clear possibility as his charity has spent a lot of money to reduce the spread of disease in places like Africa.  Of course another option was the Democrats themselves.

"China."

"China is putting nanites in the vaccines?"

"Yeah.  China created Covid in a lab, released it, and then put nanites in the vaccine."

That raised a bunch of questions for me.  "How would they do that?  If I remember correct, the vaccines used in the United States are being made in Michigan and New Jersey by Americans.  China and Russia have their own vaccines but that's not being used here."

"China is working through the CDC."

"Oh."  I nodded, not sure how to respond to that kind of conspiracy.  Whenever I'm faced with a situation like this I always try to meet the other person halfway.  I always try to see merit in every person's views but this guy was clearly off the rails.  My only thought now was to possibly get him to question his beliefs.

"I do agree that China is an increasing problem for the United States and it's going to get worse."

"Yeah."  He nodded back.

"Do you know the history of China?"

He nodded but didn't say anything.

I said, "They were probably the strongest country in the world for much of history.  Many ancient inventions including things like the printing press and gunpowder were invented there first but they grew too big and complacent just about the time Europe started down the path to the Industrial Revolution.  Europe used that growth to dominate the world for most of the 19th and 20th century.  China calls this time the 'Century of Humiliation'."

I could see him nodded at what I was saying, as it fit his narrative.  I decided to indulge it a bit more.

I said, "China is a society built from the top down.  The United States is a society built from the bottom up.  By that I mean, communism sets plans to push their people to state-set goals.  Capitalism uses the profit motive to satisfy demand for goods and gives a better standard of living." 

"The American way."  He said.

I said, "Yep but the problem is the Chinese turned capitalism against us.  They used their underdeveloped economy and cheap but well educated labor to entice American companies to build there.  They did whatever these companies wanted and that gave anyone who invested in China an advantage in price and quality.  Soon, if a manufacturing company hadn't moved their company to China, they weren't competitive.  The American business watchword in the 1990s and 2000s became outsourcing.  It slowly enriched the Chinese economy who relied on American markets for the goods they now produced.  But the Chinese didn't use this increasing power against us at first.  They are too smart for that.  After all, they had once endured a century of humiliation.  They know how to be patient."

"Exactly."

I said, "One question I wonder is how can our country respond?  Our leadership in Washington is divided.  That's part of the nature of democracy but ours is so broken that nothing gets done.  Meanwhile the leadership in Beijing is unified because that's the nature of a dictatorship."

I see the guy nodding and agreeing with me which was great but also knew this was probably where we would split ways.

I continued, "The only solution is our people and our government leaders have to start working with each other.  They have to compromise and form a unified vision.  They can't continue to only block the other side or we will see China patiently destroy our economic advantage little by little.  We need long term planning for our economy.  We need aggressive regional trade agreements.  NAFTA and TPP were a good starting points but imagine if we encouraged American companies to build those Chinese factories in Mexico instead.  American workers would complain mightily but we'd weaken China and strengthen a neighbor whose citizens are coming across our border looking for jobs.  It's a win/win solution but instead all we hear from Washington is hot air."

He didn't respond but I could tell I got him thinking.

I said, "And the one thing we have to always remember is China is patient and as they are a dictatorship their leaders don't have to win a popularity contest.  It's why we need to insist our leaders start doing this for the benefit of the country but right now the Chines know we aren't working together."

He said, "We need a revolution."

"That would kill our economy.  Right now the only thing propping up China's industries is American markets but American markets rely on the power of the dollar and the financial system.  China isn't ready to go on its own right now.  Why would they risk that by releasing a pandemic on purpose right now? Why not wait another ten years when they have more control of the world's economy?"

He said, "Because of they have control chips."

I shook my head.  I didn't have a good answer to that which wouldn't involve insulting the man's intelligence so I made a joke.

I said, "I guess if this is true and as most vaccines are from four countries - America, Europe, Russia, and China, then I'm glad Americans are getting the American vaccine.  That way the chips will be controlled by Americans and not Chinese or Russians."  I could see on his face, I thought this joke much funnier than him.

At this point the timer on the whirlpool action had long run out and he decided to get out.  I did notice he was giving me an odd look.  Perhaps he now saw me a double agent.  Or maybe I'm overthinking it and he just saw me as a know-it-all blowhard.  I decided not to say anything as he he got out of the hot tub and dried off.  Just before leaving he asked, "Do you want another 15 minutes?"

I said, "Sure.  Thanks."

Just before pushing the button he asked, "Did you know anyone who has taken the vaccine is going to die in three years?"

I shook my head, my brief thoughts of fear dissuaded by the rational part of my brain a second later.  "I hadn't heard that."  I'm not sure if he heard my response over the roar of the pulsing water.  

As I watched him leave, I thought it probable he'd pegged me as a liberal who had taken the vaccine and his final comment was a passive-aggressive way of saying 'fuck you' to me in parting.  And if so, perhaps my first instinct was correct and I should have correctly called him a 'fucking idiot' from the very start.

Friday, January 22, 2021

How Hank Aaron was very important to me




Hank Aaron died today.

I was 7 years old when he broke Babe Ruth's record for hitting the most home runs in Major League Baseball history. The furor over that event seems silly in hindsight but it dominated the news during the winter of 1973-74. Of course, there were other stories going on like Vietnam and Watergate but a child's memories are attracted to some stories and not to others. To me, it was the only story that mattered. 

I grew up in a small town and small towns love to talk. My memories of that winter held discussions by relatives talking about Hank Aaron and how he was stealing Babe Ruth's record. That didn't make any sense to me. 

How was he stealing Babe's record? 

On the playground, we played a simple game called 'kickball'. The rules were simple. It was very similar to baseball only it substituted a rolled bouncy ball and a kicker for a pitched baseball and a batter. When you kicked the ball if someone caught it you were out. When you were running the bases if someone hit you with the ball and you weren't on a base you were out. If you kicked the ball hard enough and you were fast enough you could touch all four bases and get a home run. I was one of the lucky ones in my class because I could kick the ball well and run very fast. While there was some disagreement with a few of my classmates, most everyone agreed I was the best kickball player on the playground (a skill I was sad to find has few real-world applications).

During the runup of the 1974 Major League baseball season, I remember being happy I was able to have a discussion with adults. Of course, I took Hank Aaron's side in the discussions. We were a lot alike, Hank and me. He hit home runs. I kicked them. 

I think Hank Aaron was the first black man I ever noticed. It was either him or Morgan Freeman's characters on the TV show Electric Company. Hank seemed nice in interviews but I noticed he also looked tired. When he eventually broke the record I remember being proud as he made his slow saunter around the bases like a runner at the end of a very long race. I remember he also looked happy. 

We are not born racists. Racists are made and just like my classmates I was being groomed to be a racist at age 6 even if I didn't know it. 

Some people blame TV/movies and others blame stereotypical depictions in stories. These do play their part but the truth is much more insidious. It is passed down between generations on the schoolyard. When I started school I was innocent in the ways of racism. I'd never seen a black person in town and it was only later in life I realized I grew up in a sundown town. If you are unfamiliar with the term, it's a reference to signs that were put up just under a town's welcome sign that said something to the effect of 'No Blacks Allowed' though usually not stated that nice. Blacks could pass through but they couldn't stop and if they were caught in town after dark, it was an excuse for the town's male population to group up to teach a lesson.

In popular history these imagines are usually associated with people like Bull Connor and places in the deep south but it was just as prevalent in the North too and especially in the rural Midwest where I was born. If anything, southern towns were more honest in their racism. Midwestern towns usually didn't put up signs and most of these men weren't in the Klan but the beatings happened just the same. 

Blacks who had moved North in hopes of escaping the racism of the south were slowly herded into the cities, these areas eventually acquiring the name ghettos, the same name the Germans called the cities they forced Jews to live before the Nazis came up with a different, more Final Solution. 

I knew none of this when I first arrived on the playground. The playground at school was a broad new world. Before this time, our conversations had been limited to Mom, Dad, a couple of neighbors, and the occasional visit from relatives. Being from a small town we had a small class so we were eased into social interactions with an entire class totaling fifteen boys and fifteen girls. The bravest jumped headfirst into the chance to become individuals. We were free to talk and interact with anyone we chose. Anyone but the girls. That dividing line would not be broached until many years later. 

But I digress... 

It was on the playground I first heard the words of a rhyme. It was shouted any time two boys got into a disagreement, a common occurrence on the schoolyard that usually was nothing more than a wrestling match that ended with grass stains, not blood stains.
"Fight, Fight, A *Black and a White. If the White don't win we all jump in."
* - The word used wasn't Black. It started with an N and it's a word I refuse to say or type. I will be using *Black to denote it's use. 

Recess at school was done in shifts. Kindergarteners got three of them as I remember. 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders got two. 4th graders and higher only got one. As there were more recesses than grades, there were times when separate classes had to be on the playground at the same time. As it was more dangerous for rowdy 4th graders to be on the playground at the same time as smaller Kindergartners,
the schedule matched up Kindergartens with 1st graders and 2nd graders with 3rd. 

Information flowed between grades almost always moving from older to younger. That's how we learned the rhyme I stated earlier. It's also how we boys learned a game called 'Smear the *Black'. 

This too was a simple game.  It is usually played with a ball and anyone who holds the ball was now the *Black.  It was the job of the rest of the boys to try to tackle him. Everyone took turns being the *Black and the one who stayed up the longest without being tackled was determined the schoolyard champion for the afternoon.

My breakthrough occurred when we were taught another stupid schoolyard taunt derived from another more common taunt. I wish I could remember the exact sequence but it has been almost 50 years. It is possible it only occurred on my playground, thought up by some nascent racist many years earlier. 

It started off when a boy offered to shake the hand of a loser after a game. The other, usually a poor loser, would say, "I'm not a *Black, I use toilet paper." The words sound stupid now but were seven and this was the most popular thing on my schoolyard in 1974. For a time, we didn't even need to play a game to say it. We'd just go up to someone and ask to shake their hand. I didn't get it. What did they mean? 

To this point, I hadn't considered the word *Black with anything negative. It had never been part of my vocabulary.  To me, the word *Black was the guy who carried the ball in a game where people wanted to tackle me.  

It was Hank Aaron who ended my confusion. 

The news reports were filled with stories of the constant hate he was receiving. The one I remember said, 'I'm going to kill you *Black'. I couldn't understand why this guy was so mad he wanted to kill Hank but I also couldn't understand why he'd used that word. 

As I was at an impasse and my friends were no help, I decided to ask my Mom. As I recall, she explained there were a lot of people in the world with hate in their hearts. She also told me I was never to use that word ever again (a promise I've kept for almost fifty years). 

A day later my best friend came to my house and we played a game. I don't remember who won but afterward, he told me I needed to offer him a handshake. When he gave the response "I'm not a *Black, I use toilet paper", I gave the response, "That's ok. I'm Hank Aaron." 

Now I know my words weren't Shakespeare but I remember being very happy with the response. 

After that, I used Hank's name as a sort of defense every time anyone used the word my Mom forbade me to say. As I was the best athlete in my class of fifteen, I'd run around taunting them with the words 'I'm Hank Aaron' at anyone that tried to tackle me, something none of them were able to do. 

I became a pre-pubescent social justice warrior of sorts, explaining to anyone that would listen how we weren't supposed to say the word *Black.  History has shown my efforts to reform my friends weren't successful but I did get them to change the name of the game we played from 'Smear the *Black' to 'Smear the Queer'.  I later realized this to be a hollow victory.

Hank Aaron was the first man outside of my family I idolized. I like that he never said much, he just did his job. Hank was near the end of his career when I started following him and he only hit another three dozen home runs after breaking Babe Ruth's record. It didn't matter to me. 

I've thought a lot about Hank and his record in the past few years. When we were kids I remember my grandmother telling me that her generation had screwed things up but ours would make the world a better place. She was no saint and probably as racist as most in town but I took her words to heart. 

I assumed everyone in my generation believes as I did that racism was bad and we would end it. It was a naive hope but one I hung on to much longer than I would have if I'd been paying attention. Racism doesn't happen to a generation overnight. It is little words and sayings. It is little beliefs and learnings that have crop up over decades. It doesn't have to be overt.  Watching another person commit the smallest of racist actions isn't racist per se but it's not-not-racist either. 

We all go through life believing ourselves to be the hero of the tale. We aren't the bad guy. Racists tendencies hid in the darkness for generations until they found a champion let them engage their anger. Words and sayings that had long lay dormant were back stunning elites but few others. The Midwest which had long hidden its racism under the veil of secrecy came out proud to join the hate of their southern brothers and sisters. 

I think a writer I like said it best - 'We're all in the South now.' 

Hank Aaron joined the Braves as an executive once his playing days were over. He was respected, one of the best in a field dominated by white men. He quietly toiled and did his job to help his team win a few championships. He never complained and he never spoke much. That was Hank. When the George Floyd riots happened last summer I wondered what Hank thought but as far as I know, he never made a comment. He did release a statement last year after the passing of the great civil rights leader, John Lewis.
The same could be said of Hank Aaron. I never met Hank Aaron but he was always important to me. 

He will be missed.