Bumbling My Way into Another Year of History Nerdery
Back in 2015, I started the year with a post sharing what I expected to think about in the coming year. I have no idea what inspired it, but I’ve opened each year since then with a similar post. I’ve always found it a useful way to get my thoughts in order, the writing equivalent of clearing off my desk.[1] I hope at least some of you find it interesting.
When I asked myself what I am planing to work on in 2026, I had to admit that I am not really sure.
The one thing I’m positive about is that I will continue to devote time, energy and enthusiasm to talking about The Dragon From Chicago. I already have speaking gigs, virtual and in real life, lined up well into the coming year. And I’m hoping for more.[2] It’s an important story to tell.
Beyond that, I’m finishing a pared-down proposal for what I hope will be my next book.[3] The more I work on it, the more I want to write the story. If my editor says yes, I have already identified many books to read and many rabbit holes to go down. If she says no, I’ll be flailing around without direction waiting for another story to grab me by the throat. Either way, I will have stories to share with you.
Here’s to a New Year filled with health, happiness, and history nerdery for us all!
[1] In fact, the first task for me in 2026 is going to be literally clearing off a desk. I have a second desk that sits back to back with my main desk. The idea was to have a horizontal surface I could use when I need to spread out. It has become a dumping ground for the things I’m not sure what to do with. I am determined to reclaim it as a work surface on January 1.
[2] And speaking of speaking, if you belong to a group that needs speakers, send me an email and we’ll try to work it out. Zoom has made things possible that were not possible before. If you want to know where I’ll be or find links to podcasts I’ve been on, my newsletter is the most reliable place to check . I’m always a little behind on bringing the events pages on this blog and my website up-to-date.
[3] I had hoped to have it ready to turn in to my agent at the start of the year. As I write this, it is clear that is not going to happen. But I will finish soon. Really.
Lighting a (Metaphorical) Candle Against the Darkness
Shortly after Thanksgiving the song “We Need a little Christmas Now”[1] began to run through my head on constant repeat. It was, quite frankly, annoying.
I don’t know about you, but we felt a little subdued going into the holiday season[2] this year, for reasons external and internal. I did not need Angela Lansbury being exuberant in my head.
We pared down our Christmas decorations to the things that matter to us most: a row of angels on the mantel, lighted stars in the windows, front and back, and a tree that smells wonderful. After a week of trying to get up the oomph to open the box of tree ornaments, My Own True Love declared the tree looked elegant with just lights. I agreed, then dug out the angel that goes on the top so our simple tree looked intentional rather than unfinished.
What we couldn’t pare down were the holiday events we were committed to.Since we couldn’t cancel, we leaned in. To our surprise, we have felt a little better with every gathering. Apparently we did “need a little Christmas right this very minute.”
I hope you, too, have a merry/jolly/happy/blessed time as you celebrate the victory of light over the darkness in the tradition of your choice.
(Just a reminder: If you want to watch the video, click on the post title to take you to your browser.)
PS As I have for the last few years, I’m giving myself a holiday from blogging through the end of the year. I’ll be back in January with some historical stories you probably haven’t heard and some books you might enjoy.
[1] From the musical Mame.
[2] To be honest, I always start the holidays with a bit of Scrooge in my heart.
Word with a Past: Maverick
The word “maverick” has always had overtones of the American West in my head—or at least the American West of a childhood spent watching shows like Gun Smoke, Bonanza, and, of course, Maverick.[1] Imagine my surprise when I recently learned that the word in fact has its roots in nineteenth century Texas.
- Bret and Bart Maverick
- Samuel Maverick
Samuel A Maverick (1803-70) was born to a wealthy family in South Carolina and earned a law degree from Yale. Instead of taking over one of his father’s businesses, he headed to the Texas region of Mexico in 1835, shortly before the Texas War of Independence began. He joined the Alamo militia—though he did not fight at the Alamo. He signed the Texas Declaration of Independence. He served as the major of San Antonio when the war was over.
Six years after independence, Maverick was captured and imprisoned when Santa Anna sent troops back into Texas, with the intention of re-taking the territory. The Mexicans offered Maverick his freedom if he signed a document saying Texas had been illegally seized and should be returned to Mexico. Maverick refused. When a family friend negotiated his freedom, he again refused to leave until the other prisoners from San Antonio were also released. They all returned home a few days later.
None of which explains how Maverick’s name became a noun, a metaphor, and a cultural construct.
When Maverick arrived in Texas, he bought up huge tracts of land around San Antonio and further east along the Brazos. In 1847, he bought a farm that included some 400 head of longhorn cattle. Maverick was interested in land, not ranching, and he was busy as a member of the new Texas legislature. He left the cattle in charge of a nineteen-year-old enslaved man named Jack, who was quickly overwhelmed by the task. The cattle began roaming unsupervised. Although the original herd carried the brand of the man who had owned them previously, few of the subsequent calves were branded. Neighboring cattlemen knew an opportunity when they saw one. After all, you couldn’t call it rustling if an unbranded steer or two found its way into your herd. Once you branded it, the cattle were yours, right?
In 1856, Maverick sold what remained of his herd to neighboring rancher Augustine Toutant-Beauregard. The terms of the sale specified on-range delivery, which meant the purchaser had to round up the cattle himself. Toutant-Beauregard took advantage of the fact that Maverick (and Jack ) had lost control of the herd. He sent his men into neighboring counties with instructions to round up any unbranded cattle they found, declaring them to be Maverick’s. The term rapidly entered the language to describe unbranded range animals.
By the end of the nineteenth century, the term maverick had come to refer to an individual who goes their own way without reference to the custom, but it didn’t really take off outside Texas until the late 1930s, when Samuel Maverick’s grandson, Maury Maverick, became the Democratic congressman from Texas. He was famously and stubbornly independent in his political positions.—a maverick as well as a Maverick.[2]
Maverick: An unorthodox or independent-minded person.
[1] In fact, I never actually saw Maverick, which went off the air when I was four.
[2] He also coined the term “gobbledygook” to describe “the overinvolved, pompous talk of officialdom.” He said he chose the sounds in the word to imitate the noises made by a turkey.



