The secret lives of America’s most important historical documents
In the early days of World War II, poet Archibald MacLeish, then the reluctant director of the Library of Congress, worked with the Secret Service to relocate the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, the Gettysburg Address and thousands of other precious documents to hiding places, including Fort Knox, where they would be safe in case of enemy bombing. In American Treasures:The Secret Efforts to Save the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Gettysburg Address, Stephen Puleo uses the story of MacLeish’s undercover librarianship as a framing device for the documents’ history as a whole, from the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1776 through the development of twenty-first century restoration and conservation techniques.
Puelo never loses track of the dual nature of the documents as both artifacts and symbols. He describes the physical creation and publication of the documents as well as the political debates that surrounded their creation, bringing new life to familiar stories in the process. (I don’t know about you, but I never thought about what was involved in producing copies of the Declaration of Independence for distribution in 1776.) He traces the documents’ physical deterioration, attempts to preserve them, and bureaucratic infighting over their control. In what is possibly the most fascinating section of the book, he compares the single-handed efforts of Stephen Pleasonton, a senior clerk in the office of the Secretary of State, to save the documents when the British attacked Washington in 1814 with MacLeish’s carefully executed plan.*
Ultimately, American Treasures is an engaging exploration of Archibald MacLeish’s assessment that “They are not important as manuscripts, they are important as themselves.”
Who would have thought the story of some pieces of paper could be so enthralling?
*Pleasanton wrapped them in makeshift linen sacks**, drove them out of the city in borrowed wagons, and hid them in an abandoned farmhouse. Not exactly Fort Knox.
**Sewed together by Pleasanton and other government clerks, none of whom would have been experienced with a needle. (I picture a lot of sticking themselves and swearing.)
Most of this review appeared previously in Shelf Awareness for Readers.
Déjà Vu All Over Again: Building a Wall
By Edward Valachovic, thanks to a Creative Commons license
Last week while we all blew noisemakers and wore party hats to celebrate the the 100th anniversary of America’s National Park Service, we let another anniversary slip by with less fanfare. On August 26, 1961, the Berlin Wall became more than just a barbed wire and cinder block barricade.
If you want a vivid and detailed description of the construction and impact of the wall, I recommend reading Thomas Harding’s The House by the Lake. Here’s the short version:
Construction of the wall began on August 12–a Soviet response to the thousands of East Germans who fled to the western sectors of Berlin. It was now illegal to cross the wall and border guards were instructed to shoot anyone who tried. On August 24, twenty-four-year-old Günter Litfin became the first East German to be shot as he tried to escape to the West. Two days later, West Berliners were forbidden from crossing into the East.
The wall stood as an international symbol of oppression until November, 1989. Many (most?) of us watched with tears of joy when East Berliners destroyed the wall with their own hands.*
Today some politicians here in the United States propose building another wall on another border. Really, people? Is this the example you want to follow?
*I still tear up just typing these words.
One Hundred Years and a Day
A hundred years ago yesterday, President Woodrow Wilson signed the act that created the National Park Service.* I’ve spent many happy hours at facilities run by the NPS. I look forward to spending many more. So I’d feel bad about sending the agency the equivalent of a belated birthday card, if it weren’t for the fact that the National Park Service Organic Act of 1916 simply gave structure to a movement that was already in progress. The Yosemite Grant Act of 1864 set aside wilderness for public use for the first time. Yellowstone National Park was formed eight years later.
In recognition of the events that led up to the creation of the Park Service, let me share with you a book review I first posted in 2013:
Seed of the Future: Yosemite and the Evolution of the National Park Idea is a beautiful book, with gorgeous pictures and heavy paper that made me hesitate to underline and write in the margins.**
It is also an excellent work of history. Written by award-winning filmmaker and writer Dayton Duncan in conjunction with the Yosemite Conservancy, Seed of the Future tells the story of the National Parks System through the lens of the Yosemite Land Grant, which pre-dated the creation of Yellowstone as the first national park by eight years. (Who knew?)
The Yosemite story as Duncan tells it is one of natural marvels, national pride, successful PR, political infighting, attempted land grabs, and determined individuals. Teddy Roosevelt and naturalist John Muir make their expected appearances. Ralph Waldo Emerson and landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted play unexpected roles. (Unexpected to me at any rate.) The park’s first guardian, Galen Clark, is heroic in his dedication.
The heart of the story is not the action or the characters–gripping though they are–but the development of a new idea about public space. Today the idea of preserving wild areas for public use is so common that we take it for granted.*** When Congress passed the Yosemite Grant Act in 1864, the idea of saving wilderness for public use was unheard of. Distributing public land for private use was more common, at least in the United States. The Homestead Act that allowed the head of a household to claim 160 acres with little more than sweat equity was passed only two years before. The Yosemite Grant Act occurred in a narrow space where ideas about democracy, wilderness, the Sublime, tourism and health came together.
If you’re interested in national parks, American history, or how big ideas are created from many small ones, you’ll enjoy Seed of the Future. Even if all you do is look at the pictures.
*It was also the 55th anniversary of the creation of the Berlin Wall. An anniversary worth remembering for other reasons. Let’s talk.
** How do you have a conversation with a book if you don’t mark it up? And more important from your perspective, how do I remember what I want to say in a blog post?
***Taking preservation for granted is dangerous. Like many of our liberties, the idea of preservation must itself be protected.