So as you tune in to watch the Giants and Patriots play in the 2012 Super Bowl from Indianapolis, I thought you would definitely like to see this photo and might want to read the full blog on it that I wrote two years ago: “Think Today’s Game of Football is Tough?”

 

The same is true for a “people.”  It is our stories that help us understand who we are and where we have been.  Maybe these elements explain where we are going.

For the most part, stories don’t grow old—we like hearing them, telling them, and thinking about them again.

Last year when I undertook “Thirty [Women] Under Thirty” to celebrate Women’s History Month, I relished the stories—some about women we have heard of, like Julia Child, and some about women we have not heard of like Oveta Culp Hobby, the first secretary of Health, Education and Welfare and the first commanding officer of Women’s Army Corps.

What I have observed since last March is that readers love these stories no matter what the month.  When I check my website analytics each morning, I find that many times a little-known woman pops up as a particularly well-read-story for the month before.

With that in mind, I resolved that America Comes Alive! would not only celebrate Women’s History Month again, but that the site would also recognize Black History Month. I keep stumbling upon stories that need to be told.   My selection of individuals for both months is eclectic—I try to vary the era, the types of accomplishments, and of course, during Black History Month, the individual’s gender.  My prime criterion is “people whose stories should not be forgotten.”

If you would like to receive these by email, please sign up on the form on the right of the website, and if there is someone whom you think I should include next year, please let me know: kate@americacomesalive.com.

In the meantime, enjoy the stories.  Only by telling about people from all types of backgrounds will we come to a better understanding of what this country can be and what we stand for.

 

Traveled the mail route for central Montana for more than ten years.

Mary Fields was born into slavery in Tennessee in about 1832. She received her freedom when the war ended and slavery was outlawed but she stayed near her original owners, the Dunn family, as she and the Dunns’ daughter had become good friends.  When Dolly became a nun and moved to Toledo, Ohio, Mary joined her there.  A good number of years later, Dolly, by then known as Mother Amadeus, took a position at a school for Native American girls in Cascade, Montana.  In 1885, Mother Amadeus became quite ill and asked that Mary be summoned from Ohio.  Mother Amadeus had pneumonia and she wanted the comfort of her childhood companion.

Mary Fields was well-suited for the West.  She was about 6 feet tall and weighed about 200 pounds. In addition to her size, her style made her stand out.  She wore trousers under her skirt and apron in order to keep warm; her apron was also handy for hiding her gun, which she was not afraid to use.

After Mother Amadeus got better, Mary stayed and began taking care of repairs to the school, doing chores, and hauling supplies from the rail station to St. Peter’s Mission. She was a valued staff member, but unfortunately, Mary was known to speak her mind.  After a brawl in town over a harness, the bishop was so outraged by her behavior that he insisted that she be fired.

Shortly after this, the U.S. Postal Service was looking for someone who could handle the mail route in central Montana.  Mother Amadeus, who felt terrible firing Mary, may have put a good word in for her, or maybe the government just realized Mary was highly capable of handling the job.  One way or the other Mary was chosen to be the one to drive horses and wagon (and her mule Moses) on the central Montana mail route.  The weather never stopped her, though if the snow was too deep, she left the team at home and delivered the mail on foot.  Her personality and integrity earned her the name Stagecoach Mary.

After ten years of delivering the mail, Mary decided it was time to retire, and she settled down in Cascade and opened a laundry.  She loved baseball and before each town game, she  presented the players with buttonhole bouquets from her garden; she also would help out the local mothers if they needed someone to watch their children.

She was known and loved in town, so when cowboy artist Charles Russell lived in Cascade for a time, he couldn’t resist sketching a pen-and-ink drawing called  A Quiet Day in Cascade, which depicts Mary being upended by a hog and spilling a basket of eggs.

The town adored her. They declared her birthday a holiday and closed the school on that day.

In 1914 Stagecoach Mary died of liver failure.  The whole town participated in her funeral.

 

Allen Allensworth was born into an enslaved family in Kentucky in 1842; he was the youngest of 13 children. As a child, he was assigned to the white family’s young boy, and Allen began learning to read alongside his master. It was against the law for slaves to receive an education so his white mistress sent Allen to live with a Quaker woman, who also defied the law and helped Allen with his reading. When this was discovered, Allen was sent to work in the fields.

Escape from Slavery
A few years later, Allen was sold to a man named Fred Scruggs who owned race horses. Allen began as an exercise boy, and Scruggs soon found him to be a gifted jockey. In 1862, Scruggs and Allensworth, then 20, traveled to Louisville for a horse race where Allensworth met Union soldiers from the 44th Illinois Volunteer Infantry Regiment who were in the area. When he expressed his longing for freedom, the Union soldiers invited him to join their Hospital Corps. When the infantry left Louisville, the soldiers loaned Allensworth a Union coat, and he covered his face with mud to appear paler. Encircled by his newfound friends he got out of town without detection, ending his time of slavery.

Allensworth remained with the 44th as a nursing aide for a time and then enlisted in the U.S. Navy. After the war, he and a brother operated two restaurants while Allensworth taught in a Freedman’s Bureau. Later, Allensworth attended Roger Williams University in Nashville to study theology where he also met and married Josephine Leavell, a music teacher and pianist. The two of them moved back to Louisville where Allensworth oversaw the work of several churches. He also served as Kentucky’s only black delegate to the Republican National Conventions of 1880 and 1884.

Becoming a Chaplain
In 1882 a black soldier approached Allensworth to discuss a problem. While the U.S. military maintained two cavalry and two infantry units of African-Americans, the soldiers had no chaplain. Allensworth took the fellow’s plea seriously. It took two years of letter-writing to members of Congress as well as President Grover Cleveland, but he was finally named chaplain, an assignment he maintained for 20 years.

His wife and two daughters followed Allensworth from Fort Apache (Arizona territory) to Camp Reynolds (California) to Fort Missoula (Montana). Allensworth used his work as an opportunity to provide spiritual comfort but also emphasize the importance of education. He wrote a Course of Study Outline and a book called Rules Governing Post Schools for the fort where he was stationed at the time. It became the standard army manual regarding the education of enlisted personnel.

Shortly before his retirement, Allensworth was promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel, making him the first black officer to receive this rank. After he retired, he and his family settled in Los Angeles where he connected with four other concerned citizens: educator William Payne, former miner John W. Palmer, minister William H. Peck, and Harry A. Mitchell, a real estate agent.

Founding a Town
The men were troubled by the societal issues of the early twentieth century—it was an era of segregation, Jim Crow laws, and lynchings. Allensworth, Payne, and the others began envisioning a town where African-Americans could find peace and have the opportunity to control their own destiny. They formed the California Colony and Home Promotion Association with offices in downtown Los Angeles.

They immediately encountered difficulty; no one wanted to sell them land. Finally they were approached by the Pacific Farming Company, a white-owned rural land development group that offered them acreage in Solito, thirty miles north of Bakersfield. The land was fertile, there was water, and best of all, it was a station stop for the Santa Fe Railroad as it passed from Los Angeles to San Francisco.

Within a year, 35 families moved to the area. Soon there were two general stores, a post office, a school, and eventually a library. The streets were named for African-American leaders such as Sojourner Truth and Frederick Douglass, and the families that settled there created a real sense of community through creation of many organizations including a sewing circle, a theatre group, a choir, and for the girls, a Campfire Girls chapter.

But then the town’s luck began to turn. Lt. Colonel Allensworth was visiting Monrovia for a lecture in September 1914, and he was hit by two white boys who were driving recklessly on a speeding motorcycle. Was it an accident or intentional? Nothing was ever proven but the event resulted in Allensworth’s death, which left a spiritual gap in his still-new town. That same year, the Santa Fe Railroad, which had refused to hire African-Americans to staff the Allensworth train station, built a spur line so that most trains no longer stopped in Allensworth.

In addition, Pacific Farming began to pull back on their contractual obligation to provide the town with adequate water. Whether this had been a long-range scheme or whether they just found they could more profitably sell the water elsewhere is not clear. Allensworth eventually won a court case that Pacific Farming was in the wrong, but by the time the legal decision was handed down, the town’s public water system was antiquated and the water table had dropped, creating an even bigger problem for the residents. People began drifting to other towns to find work.

By 1969 Ed Pope and Eugene and Ruth Lasartemay realized that if they didn’t take action all reminders of Allensworth were going to be lost. They started campaigning for preservation of the town to honor those who had founded it, setting the example that African-Americans could make their own way. In 1973 the state acquired the property and the department of Parks and Recreation approved plans to develop it. The Allen Allensworth State Historic Park was dedicated on Oct 6, 1976. The current website includes a virtual tour which gives a wonderful sense of place.

The California African-American Museum has dedicated itself to keeping Allensworth front and center in the American memory, and most recently, the museum offered an exhibit organized by photographer Rick Russell who invited other professional photographers to come to Allensworth to document the town as they saw it. In 2010-11, the museum sponsored an exhibit of the resulting photographs. The exhibition book accompanying the exhibit is still available through the museum: Allensworth: A Place. A People. A Story.

 

“Where did people buy gasoline?” asked a member of my class.

I didn’t know the answer, but I promised to look into it before the next class.  The best information I could find was that before there were gas stations, drivers could buy gasoline in canisters at a general store.  None of us were totally satisfied, but that was what I could find.

I should have thought of calling the Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan.  Today in the Wall Street Journal there was a review of the newly revamped museum, and my attention was riveted by these sentences:

“Gasoline engines were initially troublesome because they were smelly, noisy and often broke down. Also, gasoline was hard to find. That changed in 1901 when oil was discovered in Texas. There were still no gas stations, but a picture here from the early 20th century shows a home-heating-oil truck also delivering gasoline. Even though they had to carry gasoline cans when taking longer trips, drivers liked the unlimited range of cars propelled by a gasoline-powered, internal-combustion engine. “

So there it is!  A much more satisfactory answer to how early drivers obtained gas for powering their cars.

For more information on early cars, see “Auto Sales Stimulus, 1909.“

 

Rebecca was born free (not into slavery) in Delaware in about 1833 to Absolum and Matilda Davis. She was raised by an aunt in Pennsylvania who had a profound effect on Rebecca. The aunt was the person in the community to whom everyone came for medical assistance, and as a result of watching her aunt, Rebecca wrote that when she began work she knew it had to be in a field where she could “relieve the sufferings of others.”

Rebecca moved to Charlestown, Massachusetts where she became a nurse (1852-1860); there were no schools of nursing at that time, so she learned on the job. She impressed the doctors with whom she worked, and they submitted letters recommending that she be admitted to the New England Female Medical College. Her acceptance at the college was highly unusual as there were few medical schools and most did not admit African Americans.

She started classes in 1860 but her studies were interrupted by the Civil War so she did not graduate until 1864. When she did, she became the first African American woman in the United States to earn a medical degree, and the only African American woman to ever graduate from the New England Female Medical College.

Rebecca began a medical practice in Boston, but when the war ended in 1865, she moved to Richmond, Virginia to help the freed slaves who otherwise would have had no access to medical care. She noted that it would be “a proper field for real missionary work,” and it was; racism was widespread.
In 1869, she and her husband (she married Dr. Arthur Crumpler) returned to Boston and established a practice in Boston at 67 Joy Street on Beacon Hill, which was a mostly black neighborhood. Rebecca specialized in caring for women and children. By 1880 the Crumplers had moved to Hyde Park, Massachusetts, and she began work on her book which was based on journals she kept during her years of active practice. In 1883 Book of Medical Discourses was published; the book was written for women to provide them with information to understand how to care for the health of their families.

Dr. Rebecca Davis Lee Crumpler died in 1895 in Fairview, Massachusetts.

No photos or other images of Dr. Crumpler survive from her lifetime. The little we know about her comes from the introduction to her book. Though her story was not known for many years, today she is recognized for her groundbreaking achievements. In 1989 two women physicians founded the Rebecca Lee Society, an organization which supports and promotes black women physicians. Today there is an Association of Black Women Physicians, and a scholarship is still given in the name of Rebecca Lee.

 

We can all remember the “before” of the send aspect of this process, but you might wonder when the point-and-shoot aspect began.   The answer is 1901 when Kodak introduced the “Brownie” camera.   George Eastman (1854-1932), the founder of Kodak, had asked one of his camera makers to come up with an easy-to-use camera that was portable and inexpensive but still took great photos.

The camera that was created became the “Brownie” camera. It was named after characters created by children’s author and illustrator Palmer Cox during the 1890s. They were extraordinarily popular and had already been used to market many products so Eastman thought using them to brand the new camera would ensure success. He was right. The first camera was only produced for about four months before a new model was introduced but during those four months, 150,000 cameras were sold.

By the time the Brownie camera was discontinued in 1980 almost one hundred different models had been introduced and sold to a welcoming public.

For more on cameras, visit “Let Me Take Your Picture” in the newsletter archive.

 

Brenda Starr was an important role model when she appeared in 1940. Drawn by Dale (Dalia) Messick (1906-2005), the strip began when men were enlisting to serve in World War II. An independent working female proved to be right for the time.

Messick’s Start
Dalia Messick was born in South Bend, Indiana in 1906; her father was a commercial artist who encouraged her to attend art school in Chicago, which she did briefly. She soon was hired by a greeting card company, before moving to New York where she was also able to find work as a card illustrator.

Messick aspired to have a comic strip and worked evenings to assemble a portfolio. She had eight possible strips to pitch by the time she began contacting newspapers. Among them were Streamline Babies, which was about two independent women moving to New York; another was about a woman pirate (this idea was probably because of the success of Terry and the Pirates by Milton Caniff, first published in 1934). But the one strip idea that finally got a reluctant go-ahead was Brenda Starr, Reporter.

Messick’s name change from Dalia to Dale clearly explains that the going was not easy for a female cartoonist, though there had been a few before her who had made it. Grace Drayton (1877-1936) specialized in drawing children, and her characters went on to be the Campbell’s Soup Kids. Another female artist was Nell Brinkley (1886-1944) who created the Brinkley girl; the Brinkley character was a glamorous working girl who spanned from 1913 to almost 1940, and Messick must certainly have been influenced by her.

Another working woman had also appeared in the comics and had very popular from 1920 on. However, Winnie Winkle, Breadwinner, was male-produced; it was created and drawn by Martin Branner.

When Messick had a meeting with the Chicago Tribune-New York News syndicate publisher, Joseph Medill Patterson, Patterson was not enthusiastic. His right-hand aid, journalist Mollie Slott (1893-1967) advocated for Messick and Brenda Starr, and Patterson reluctantly agreed to experiment with the strip in a newspaper supplement, not on the regular funny pages. (Patterson had run Winnie Winkle so his hesitancy may have been about working with a female cartoonist or about Brenda’s sex appeal.)

Success!
The character proved popular. By 1945 Messick had moved from a Sunday strip to producing a daily strip for syndication, making her the first woman cartoonist whose strip was syndicated.

Messick started the strip with Brenda facing a very female work dilemma of the day. Brenda sits at her desk frustrated with being given the birth and death notices instead of a “real” story. It doesn’t take long before the fiery redhead storms her boss’ office and demands a chance at a better story. She succeeds, of course, and goes on to travel the world reporting on stories and finding herself in much more frightening (and glamorous) situations than what would happen to most reporters.

The strip is peopled with friends and co-workers. Her boss was Mr. Livright, and Hank O’Hair was one of the many newsroom presences who kept Brenda grounded with good advice. Basil St. John is the mystery man who sported a black eye patch; he enters Brenda’s life now and then, usually announcing any upcoming pending arrival via a delivery of black orchids sent to Brenda.

If you have not kept up with Brenda more recently, there have been several significant plot developments. Basil and Brenda married in 1976 and had a daughter named Starr Twinkle; they subsequently divorced. Brenda learned that Basil had fathered a child with talk show host Wanda Fonda, however Wanda and Brenda go on to become good friends. Like other news organizations in recent years, The Flash (the name of the newspaper) hit on hard times in the 21st century. Brenda was forced to take an unpaid leave; she left for India after arranging to cover stories for an editor friend at another paper. When she returns to The Flash, she finds that it has been converted to a free newspaper and is now also publishing bloggers.

Dale Messick retired from the strip in 1980 but a series of women creators followed her. Ramona Fradon was the first to take on the job of both drawing and writing; in 1982, she was joined by Linda Sutter to handle the writing. Fradon remained as illustrator until her retirement in 1995 when the art component was taken on by June Brigman. When Sutter gave up the writing gig, Mary Schmich, a columnist for the Chicago Tribune, worked along with June Brigman. In 2010 they decided it was time to move on from Brenda Starr, and the syndicate opted to retire the strip from the regularity of syndication but to issue occasional books about Brenda.

At its height, the comic strip appeared in 250 papers. By 2010 the number was down to 65.

Television and movies were a logical extension of the brand but Brenda never caught on in other mediums. A 1945 serial was produced but met with little success. In 1976 Jill St. John starred in a film about Brenda followed by another effort in 1989 starring Brooke Shields.

The final strip was published on Sunday, January 2, 2011. Brenda announces her retirement at the company holiday party. She bids everyone good-bye and walks out with tears in her eyes. As she leaves the party she receives a box containing a black orchid, and a card with the initials B.S.J.

 

My husband George has married his work life in the television industry with a hobby—learning all about old and new technology, including ferreting out facts about old TVs and how they were sold.

On CNET this week he posted his blog about how televisions used to be sold as a piece of furniture. The color of the wood was important, and of course, the customer wanted to be able to close the doors in front of the television screen, I suppose to give the impression that most family members spent their time reading books.

To see some great vintage ads for televisions and read George’s blog, click here.

 

I quickly became diverted from my “diet plan” while reading some excellent stories about food and fitness.  I hope you’ll click through and read about Kellogg’s, Post, and Birds Eye.  Much better than reading about dieting!  These men and the products they created are quite fascinating.

When it comes to fitness, Jack LaLanne emerges as the “father of fitness” and the reason we all still have memories of him was being he lived to age 96, only dying a year ago.  You can still buy a Jack LaLanne juicer and exercise along with a younger “him” on his website or YouTube.

But I found even more information about exercise and want to share that with you here.  First, exercise programs were popular on radio.  In the 1920s and 30s, people could wake up early and turn on the radio to be guided through exercises to lose weight and gain muscle tone.

In addition, trainers to the stars soon became popular with the people much earlier than we might expect.  Richard Kline was hired by Paramount in the late 1920s and worked with Clara Bow, Nancy Carroll and later Claudette Colbert and Carole Lombard.  His advice to housewives was to make the most of their housework: “When you bend in your housework, do it gracefully, be conscious of the rhythmic use of your body and legs as you do it. Think rhythm when you sweep; your arms and back will be beautiful.”

I hope you’ll take a few minutes to read some terrific stories about the families who brought us breakfast cereals, the man who invented frozen foods, and Jack LaLanne, father of fitness. Food and Fitness, January 2012.