Through the magic of eBay, I now have the "Wanderbuch" of Philipp Ludwig Hartmann, born April 7, 1808, who immigrated from Hesse to the United States in 1837.
My interest in this item comes from some research I have been doing on a group of Germans from Hesse who traveled together to Arkansas in 1833 for the purpose, at least initially, of setting up a colony in the territory. From all evidence, this group, the Mainzner or Rheinhessen Emigration Society, was an exploratory colony for the Giessnerauswanderungsgesellschalt (Giessen Emigration Society) that was planning a larger colony to escape political repression in Hesse and to create a German-speaking state in the United States. The bad experiences of the Mainzner colonists in Arkansas resulted in the larger group deciding to bypass Arkansas and settle instead in Missouri.
I am sure than some of the 140 or so immigrants from Hesse who traveled from Bremen to New Orleans, then took steamboats up the Mississippi and the Arkansas Rivers to Little Rock, arriving in May 1833, had such a Wanderbuch in their luggage.
"Wanderbuch" can be translated directly as "travel book," but such a translation does not adequately capture its meaning. A "Wanderer" is not simply a traveler (Reisender), but a specific type of traveler, generally someone traveling from place to place. The difference between a Wanderer and Reisender in German is very similar to the difference in English between a wanderer and a traveler.
The Wanderbuch contains the provisions of the 1810 governmental edict that ordered its creation and specified, in detail, what it was to contain. According to this edict, the Wanderbuch was created because some traveling craftsmen were misrepresenting their training, experience, and expertise, thus defrauding the people buying their services. To avoid that, the Wanderbuch was required to officially document the training a craftsman received (for example, with whom he serves an apprenticeship, where he worked as a journeyman, and how long he worked in different places). This information was to be entered and certified with a signature and seal by local officials in each place the person earned a credential.
The picture to the left shows the first page of the Wanderbuch of Philipp Ludwig Hartmann. While reading the handwritten German script is a challenge, here is what I have figured out so far:
Gebuertig von (born in): Harras-Hausen
Seiner profession (his profession): wholesaler (fuker?)
Alter (age): nine and twenty years
Statur (height): 6 feet 8 inches
Haare (hair color): brown
Stirne (Forehead): ??
Augenbraunen (eyebrow color): brown
Augen (eye color): brown
Nase (nose): strong and ??
Mund (mouth)" ??
Kinn (chin): oval (?)
Gesicht (face/look): ??
Other signs: 0
The seal of the Grand Duchy of Hesse is at the top of the page. Another stamp, as required by the edict, specifies the type of paper in the Wanderbuch (and its cost, 40 Kronen). As required, it has 64 pages.
Of course, a detailed description of the individual named in the Wanderbuch was necessary because photographs were not available at the time. Thus, when a local official was presented with a Wanderbuch, he had to check the descriptive items to make sure that the person presenting the document was the person whose name appeared on it.
In the Wanderbuch, the law mandating the Wanderbuch follows the personal information on the first page; after that, all of the pages have room for entries describing the training and experience of the person.
Page 5 of Philipp Hartmann's Wanderbuch has a full page of writing. I cannot read most of this German script, but I recognize a date 23 November 1834, and the names the city of Marburg and the city or district of Offenbach, followed by a date May 1800, twenty-seven.
My guess is that this page certifies the completion of an apprenticeship or some other type of training by Hartmann on November 25, 1834, and it is signed by the "Master" or the person providing the apprenticeship or training, who received his certification in May 1800. This page has the official stamp of the city (or district) of Offenbach.
Two other pages in the Wanderbuch document stays by Hartman in a couple of cities. The last entry in Germany is in Bremen, dated July 7, 1837, noting that Hartmann was traveling to Baltimore.
Records available on Ancestry.com show that Hartmann arrived in Baltimore on October 19, 1837. He traveled from Bremen to Baltimore on the Gustav. According to the arrival records, Hartmann was a tailor.
After skipping a few pages, Hartmann wrote a few things in the Wanderbuch about his life. He wrote that he was born on April 7, 1808 in Darmstadt, a city in Hesse. He married Maria Volberh (Volberg?), who was born in Philadelphia on May 22, 1820. They were married in Philadephia on January 17, 1839. He also mentions the birth of two sons and a daughter. His last entry noted the birth of a daughter on December 21, 1845.
I was unable to find out more about him, but some documents indicate that he and his wife lived in Baltimore.
I have put on Scribd a copy of all of the pages of the Wanderbuch that have writing. It is accessible here:
http://www.scribd.com/doc/74965158/The-Wanderbuch-of-Philipp-Ludwig-Hartmann-of-the-Grand-Duchy-of-Hesse-1834-1837
As far as I know, no one has found a copy of the Wanderbuch of any of the people who traveled to Arkansas in May 1833. If one were found, it would provide some fascinating information and would be a great historical artifact. I'll keep looking for one on eBay.
Arkansas, Vienna, 1930's, public policy, Fayetteville, little known people in history, Sen. Fulbright, Birch Bay, and German immigration. Certainly, the blog is eclectic (at best).
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Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Post Office Art in Ferndale WA
Ferndale, Washington, is a small city located about ten miles south of Birch Bay and the US-Canadian border, accessible by a couple of I-5 exits. This river town has about 10,000 people and an eclectic old main street.
By Northwest standards, Ferndale is older city, founded more than a hundred years ago. The mighty Nooksack River, which runs through the town, was for many decades an important transportation route into the interior of Whatcom County, and it was used to float harvested timber from the rugged mountain interior to the Bay.
Ferndale has some nice parks that pay tribute to its past, including Pioneer Park with nicely preserved early-settlers' cabins, Hovander Homestead Park with a historic farm, and Tennant Lake with scenic walks. However, despite these nice parks, Ferndale is not a gentrified, upscale river city; it has more of a blue-collar "working city" persona. This persona is likely due to the fact that it has several large industries near it, including aluminum producer Alcoa Intalco and two oil refineries (BP Cherry Point and Conoco Phillips).
As you exit I-5 and head west on main street, you first encounter shopping areas with businesses that mostly are regional or national chains. As you head further to the west, and cross the Nooksack River bridge, you come to the old downtown main street that stretches for a few blocks. It is populated mostly by local businesses, including several restaurants.
On the western outer edge of the old downtown is the Ferndale post office, located by a gas station. The post office was, in the past, difficult to spot because it sits back from the road and has little signage. It is in an older building that was decorated on the outside as if it were an antique drug store. At first glance, the post office did not appear to be a public building.
In the last few months, the Ferndale post office renovated its exterior. In doing so, it not only avoided reverting to an institutional look, but brightened up the area and made itself more easily identifiable as a post office. As the pictures in this post show, the post office decorated its outside with colorful paintings of postage stamps. The painting are nicely done, adding a bit of fun to a trip the post office.
I have been told that these "postage stamp" paintings were done by local artists. Both they and the post office deserve praise for the innovative idea and the nice execution of a project that adds to the character of downtown Ferndale.
By Northwest standards, Ferndale is older city, founded more than a hundred years ago. The mighty Nooksack River, which runs through the town, was for many decades an important transportation route into the interior of Whatcom County, and it was used to float harvested timber from the rugged mountain interior to the Bay.
Ferndale has some nice parks that pay tribute to its past, including Pioneer Park with nicely preserved early-settlers' cabins, Hovander Homestead Park with a historic farm, and Tennant Lake with scenic walks. However, despite these nice parks, Ferndale is not a gentrified, upscale river city; it has more of a blue-collar "working city" persona. This persona is likely due to the fact that it has several large industries near it, including aluminum producer Alcoa Intalco and two oil refineries (BP Cherry Point and Conoco Phillips).
As you exit I-5 and head west on main street, you first encounter shopping areas with businesses that mostly are regional or national chains. As you head further to the west, and cross the Nooksack River bridge, you come to the old downtown main street that stretches for a few blocks. It is populated mostly by local businesses, including several restaurants.
Ferndale Post Office |
I have been told that these "postage stamp" paintings were done by local artists. Both they and the post office deserve praise for the innovative idea and the nice execution of a project that adds to the character of downtown Ferndale.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Bull Hayes: Fayetteville's First African-American Football Hero
In the fall of 1957, Little Rock's Central High School was
in the headlines throughout the world as a place of turmoil, even shame, as
Governor Orval Faubus attempted to stop a few black kids from enrolling in that
school. The Little Rock school crisis is well documented, but another civil
rights episode occurring in Arkansas at the same time is less well known.
That year, in Fayetteville, the state had its first widely
known African-American high school football hero. His name was William Lee Hayes, nicknamed Bull Hayes. He played fullback and kicked. His team, Fayetteville
High School, had an outstanding football team that ended the year without
losing a game, outscoring opponents by 269 points to 33. Bull Hayes was the
best of several very good players that led the team to its undefeated season.
Hayes was born and raised in Fayetteville; he attended
segregated schools from grades one through nine. According to researcher Andrew
Brill, Hayes enrolled in FHS as a sophomore in 1955 and that year was "the
first African-American athlete to play against whites at the high school level
in Arkansas" (Brill, p. 56). Also that year, three of FHS's seven scheduled opponents
(Fort Smith, Harrison, and Russellville) cancelled their games against the Bulldogs,
refusing to play an integrated team. (See the article attached at the end of this post urging
teams to refuse to play FHS because it had black players.)
Apparently, Hayes was academically ineligible to play
football during his junior year, but during his senior year, in fall 1957,
Hayes became a celebrity, at least regionally, for his powerful running. His
achievements on the football field were the stuff of legend. Equally impressive was how well he fit into the team. Speaking years later, his teammates expressed
deep affection for him. Jim Shreve, the team's all-district and all-state
quarterback, told Fayetteville sports writer Grant Hall in a 1975 interview,
"Everybody on the team just loved Bull. We kidded him all the time and he
kidded us. There were never any racial problems at Fayetteville High, even
though we were only the second school in the state, I think, to
integrate." (Hall, 1975).
Another FHS player that year, Jim Bob Wheeler, told an
interviewer, "One of the things that I remember about [Hayes] was his
tremendous leg strength -- o my word -- that was the strongest human being that
I ever knew. And yet he was a very gentle person and someone that wouldn't hurt
a fly. (Adams and deBlack, p.133)
Bull Hayes was six feet tall and weighed 190 pounds, not
particularly big for a fullback. But, as Wheeler said, he had powerful legs, plus quickness and speed, that made him an explosive runner. He was a constant threat
to break through the line for a long run. When the opposing teams focused on
stopping him, Shreve would fake handing the ball to him and reel off long
runs.
Shreve described the successful FHS offense:
We actually ran what amounted to a
wishbone," remembered Shreve. "Bull lined up right behind me, and
sometimes we'd just snap the ball through my legs right to him. He would be at
full speed after one or two steps. We were never timed in the 40-yrd dash back
them, But I'm sure he could have run a 4.5. (Hall, 1975).
Though "Bull" seemed an appropriate name for a
hard-charging fullback, and it added some panache to his persona, the name was
not conferred on him because of his smash ahead running ability.
According to Shreve:
"I first met him when we were
both caddying at Fayetteville Country Club about 25 years ago," Shreve
began. "Everybody called him "Bob" but I misunderstood and thought
they were saying "Bull". So that's how he got his nickname. (Grant,
1975)
With an integrated team, FHS
sometimes faced difficulty on road trips finding places to eat because some
restaurants refused to serve black players. According to Brill, the team began
packing lunches prepared by the high school cafeteria staff. Of course, Hayes
would sometimes be singled out by opposing teams. Brill described the game in
Harrison:
In 1957, after the
Bulldogs had resumed playing Harrison, Fayetteville players riding the team bus
through the Harrison town square saw a black dummy hanging from a tree and
signs in store windows that read, ‘Beat Bull.’ During the game, Hayes was
verbally abused by fans, but the night passed without major incident. (Brill,
p. 56).
Rus Bradburd, in
his book Forty Minutes of Hell: The
Extraordinary Life of Nolan Richardson, described the situation in Harrison
more colorfully:
Hayes
had to deal with more than the usual high school hassles. When the Fayetteville
team bused into Harrison for a game, an effigy of a black man was hanging from
a tree in the town square. According to the Democrat-Gazette, Harrison star Don
Branison said his team was told to stop Bull Hayes no matter what it took.
"We tried to kill him...We tried to hurt him real bad," Branison
said.
Fayetteville
beat Harrison anyway. Branison was awarded a scholarship to the University of
Arkansas the following year. (p. 130)
Despite such hostility, FHS and Bull Hayes prevailed for a
perfect season. Hayes received a football scholarship to attend the University
of Nebraska. According to Bardburd,
"Hayes had offers from Oklahoma State and Tulsa, where Arkansas played
regularly. To avoid the embarrassment of a local black player making them look
bad, the Arkansas staff arranged a full ride to University of Nebraska for Bull
Hayes. " (Bardburd, p. 130). Bradburd does not provide a source for this
assertion. Of course, at the time, the University of Arkansas football team was
segregated and would remain so for many years to come.
Picture of William Hayes in the 1958 FHS Yearbook |
Hayes had a good freshman year at the University of
Nebraska, but had to leave the second year because of academic difficulties. He
played football for two years at Joplin Junior College and finished his college
career at Arkansas AM&N. He had a tryout with either the Cleveland Browns
(Brill p. 56) or the St. Louis Cardinals football team (Grant, 1975), but did
not make the team.
After his graduation from Arkansas AM&N, Hayes was hired
to be executive director of the Boys Club in Topeka, and he held that position
until his death, at the age of 36, on September 7, 1975.
Like others African-Americans in Arkansas who
were the first to break different color barriers, Bull Hayes was a pioneer. He was hero not only for his accomplishments on the football field that
won the admiration of his teammates, schoolmates, and much of the population
of Northwest Arkansas, but also for his role in the integration of high school
sports in Arkansas. In truth, thanks to him, 1957 was a
very good year for the desegregation of Fayetteville schools, quite a contrast
to the unseemly events in Little Rock.
Sources:
Adams, Julianne L. and Thomas DeBlack. Civil Obedience: An Oral History of School Desegration in
Fayetteville, Arkansas, 1954-1965. University of Arkansas Press.
Bradburd, Rus. 2010. Forty
Minutes of Hell: The Extraordinary Life of Nolan Richardson. Amistad.
Brill, Andrew. 2006. Brown in Fayetteville: Peaceful
Southern School Desegregation in 1954, The
Arkansas Historical Quarterly, Winter, VOL. LXV, NO. 4, pp. 55-58.
Fort Smith and Russellville Football Games Cancel [sic].
1955. Arkansas Faith, p.17.
Hall, Grant. 1975. 'Bull' Hayes Remembered by Former FHS
Teammate. Northwest Arkansas Times,
Sept. 14.
Ivy, Darren. 2001. Integration Found ‘Bull’ on Front Line. Arkansas
Democrat-Gazette, December 30.
Ivy, Darren
and Jeff Krupsaw. 2002. Untold stories: black sport heroes before integration. Wehco Pub. p. 107-109
The Amethyst,
1958 (Fayetteville High School Yearbook)
Monday, November 21, 2011
University Presidents with a Sales Pitch and an Army
In January 1991, a group of students opposed to the U.S.
bombing of Iraq and the coming war in the Middle East set up a camp with 27
tents on the North Campus of the University of Georgia (UGA). The tents were
initially located near the Arch, the entrance to UGA from downtown Athens. After
a couple of weeks there, threatened with arrest, they negotiated an agreement
with Charles Knapp, the president of UGA, to move to a small designated area
away from the Arch, pay for any damage to the North Campus lawn, and to reapply
for "office space" every two weeks. The camp dispersed in late
February, soon after a cease fire was called in "Desert Storm." See http://www.uga.edu/gm/301/FrontYes.html
It appears that the leaders of major universities have new reasons and weapons to oppose student free speech rights, which were established in the 1960s following the Berkeley Free Speech Movement. Now, expressions of concern about "safety" and "security" can be used to justify violent police actions to shut down student demonstrations, and university heads (presidents or chancellors or whatever) have large forces of black and blue clad ass-kickers, bearing the fanciest of weapons, to enforce their edicts.
O.K., maybe I am wrong in my explanation of what is happening on these campuses, and maybe there are better explanations for police violence to shut up students. For example, see these other explanations:
http://www.berkeleydailyplanet.com/issue/2011-11-20/article/38882?headline=Why-They-Go-After-the-Students-Reflections-on-Police-Actions-at-Davis-and-Berkeley--By-Michael-Song-Lim
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/18/us/berkeley-crackdown-raises-fear-of-move-backward.html?_r=1&pagewanted=all
http://www.presstv.ir/usdetail/211298.html
However even if my understanding is wrong, I still cannot conceive of a reason why a college president needs an army -- black-shirted SWAT-like special ops commandos -- to deal with non-threatening students who are trying to express their opinions. Nor do I believe that after a president or chancellor unleashes this army, he or she can credibly declare his or her horror at the results.
Let's take the army away from the presidents and chancellors, and give them back campus cops, preferably with minimal weaponry, instead.
Student demonstrators in January 1991 at the UGA Arch |
Based on what recently occurred on the campuses of two great
universities in California -- UC-Berkeley and UC-Davis -- you have to wonder what
would happen to UGA students in 2011 if they set
up tents for a protest. I doubt if the outcome would be the same -- a peaceful protest that was tolerated within limits by a university that respected the right of students to express their views on an important issue. In contrast to UGA in 1991, see what happened at UC-Davis when some students held a protest: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmJmmnMkuEM
It appears that the leaders of major universities have new reasons and weapons to oppose student free speech rights, which were established in the 1960s following the Berkeley Free Speech Movement. Now, expressions of concern about "safety" and "security" can be used to justify violent police actions to shut down student demonstrations, and university heads (presidents or chancellors or whatever) have large forces of black and blue clad ass-kickers, bearing the fanciest of weapons, to enforce their edicts.
From the late 1960s through the 1990s, university
administrators were respectful of students presenting their grievances: after all they were expressing their concerns on a college campus where the passionate exchange of ideas is usually encouraged. Now, many seem determined to silence students at whatever cost and by whatever means
they deem necessary. What has changed to make university leaders and the elite staffers of some of the nation's best universities determined to squelch free speech on
campuses? I suggest the following
changes contribute to the new aggressive use of a "president's army" to shut up students:
First, the university
presidents now have the power to take such actions, and the worry little about
objections from the faculty (some talk, little action) or most students
("I just want a job when I graduate."). At one point in history, the faculty of
a university had real power and responsibility in the operation of the
university, including a strong voice in the selection of the university's
president. And after the free speech
movement in the 1960s, students gained a modicum of power, with the legitimacy
to make demands and express opinions about university governance and other
issues of concern to them.
Now, university leaders and elite staffers have usurped, to a large extent, faculty and
student powers. And the concerns of these folks have little in common with the concerns of faculty and students.
The administrative elite of any university is preoccupied with budgets,
expenditures, personnel management, building and grounds maintenance, enrollment
management, record keeping, and, above all, fund raising. Because of the increasing need to fund universities from external sources, many university
presidents and chancellors are no longer the cream of the academic crop, but
are people with useful political ties or begging skills that can bring much needed cash to the institution. These folks spend
much, if not most, of their time raising money and managing external relations.
They hire well-paid administrators -- the staff elites -- to manage the university.
In the tradition of hierarchical organizations, the elite staffers often see themselves as the top of the pyramid of a large business that
sells education and research. Like most
managers at the top of a large bureaucratic pyramid, they have limited contact
with the employees producing the education and research, or the clients who
consume their product. Most probably have not been with students in a classroom
or carried out publishable peer-reviewed research in years or decades, if ever. They value efficiency, which is not a value of great concern to most faculty members and students.
Second, university
presidents want to sell sizzle of the university steak to potential donors and
other funders, and unwelcome student protests can interfere with the sale pitch. Because the main job of a university president is to raise
money, much of his or her time is spent courting rich private donors, corporate
donors, foundations, federal government funders, and, if a public university,
state legislators. They want to tell the rich folks about the
school's US News and World Report rankings,
the number of faculty with degrees from the best universities, the number of
Fulbright scholars, the interesting research that will lead to new jobs, the new programs that are planned, and
the successes of the most attractive and brightest students. Their sales pitch
is interrupted, perhaps ruined, when they have to explain to potential donors why students are aggressively protesting such things as the excesses of capitalism, steep tuition increases, or corporate greed.
http://chronicle.com/article/Updates-on-Capital-Campaigns/65807/
Third, university presidents now have small armies of armed police officers to get rid of problems such as uncooperative students saying things that might interrupt the sales pitch to donors. When I was attending university in the late 1960s and early 1970s, the campus cops were hired mainly to enforce traffic laws and to keep things calm at athletic events and fraternity parties. They did not have weapons, and for years efforts to arm them were resisted. They certainly did not walk around in riot gear or SWAT outfits.
Third, university presidents now have small armies of armed police officers to get rid of problems such as uncooperative students saying things that might interrupt the sales pitch to donors. When I was attending university in the late 1960s and early 1970s, the campus cops were hired mainly to enforce traffic laws and to keep things calm at athletic events and fraternity parties. They did not have weapons, and for years efforts to arm them were resisted. They certainly did not walk around in riot gear or SWAT outfits.
Of course that has now changed. Anyone who watches the police
confronting students at the University of California, Davis, has to be
astounded at the number of police officers undertaking this task, how they were
dressed, and the weapons they had and used. In their black and blue uniforms and visor-ed helmets and sun glasses -- bearing batons, some rifle-looking things, pepper spray, and who knows
what else -- they certainly were intimidating. This group looked and acted as if it were raiding an unfriendly village in Iraq or Afghanistan to remove a group of terrorists. And these fearsome SWAT-like commandos, confronting a bunch of young folks in jeans and sweatshirts, were
empowered by the chancellor of the university to do all kinds of violence to, and
to arrest, all who got in their way.
Apparently, this is what some campuses have become: homes
for presidents or chancellors with armies who can order inconvenient students --
those stepping on the president's sales pitch -- to be beaten, pepper sprayed, arrested or who knows what -- maybe mace comes next, then bullets. And
all of this is justified with soothing words about respecting rights and the need
to protect safety and security.
O.K., maybe I am wrong in my explanation of what is happening on these campuses, and maybe there are better explanations for police violence to shut up students. For example, see these other explanations:
http://www.berkeleydailyplanet.com/issue/2011-11-20/article/38882?headline=Why-They-Go-After-the-Students-Reflections-on-Police-Actions-at-Davis-and-Berkeley--By-Michael-Song-Lim
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/18/us/berkeley-crackdown-raises-fear-of-move-backward.html?_r=1&pagewanted=all
http://www.presstv.ir/usdetail/211298.html
However even if my understanding is wrong, I still cannot conceive of a reason why a college president needs an army -- black-shirted SWAT-like special ops commandos -- to deal with non-threatening students who are trying to express their opinions. Nor do I believe that after a president or chancellor unleashes this army, he or she can credibly declare his or her horror at the results.
Let's take the army away from the presidents and chancellors, and give them back campus cops, preferably with minimal weaponry, instead.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Newsclip of July 15, 1927 Vienna Riots
I am doing some research on the riots and deaths (mostly civilians killed by the police) that occurred in Vienna, Austria, on July 15, 1927. This violent episode in Austria's history started as an unplanned protest by Vienna workers against a court decision that had freed two members of the Heimwehr who had shot and killed two unarmed Socialists during a march in a small city in Burgenland. The violence of these riots, and the nationwide strike that followed, strengthened support for the Heimwehr, a fascist military-political organization whose goal was to replace Austria's democratic system with a fascist government. After the violence of the riot and the police counter-strike, the February 1934 civil war -- which destroyed the Socialist Party -- was almost inevitable. At least 90 people were killed during this disturbance; most were Viennese workers -- supporters of the Socialist Party -- shot by police. Five policemen were killed. Over 600 people were injured.
I will be publishing a post on the history of this event in a few days. In the meanwhile, I found this British Pathe' newsreel clip with film of the Ministry of Justice building on fire and crowds milling around.
RIOTS IN VIENNA
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
The Beauty of an Early Winter Storm in Birch Bay
Dense clouds, clear horizon with sun behind the San Juan Islands |
The colors of early winter at Birch Bay |
The dark bay in some turmoil, with light on the horizon |
Seagulls fight the wind and waves to find a place to land |
The stormy day ends |
Two of Fred Starr's Best Newspaper Columns
I have read many of Fred Starr's "Hillside
Adventures" columns, published in the Northwest
Arkansas Times from about 1936 to the early 1970s, plus four of his books. As I
have written elsewhere, I believe his 1958 book, Of These Hills and Us, is a gem, his best writing. Also, I think
these two columns, both published in 1940, are among his best. They are
certainly the most touching and memorable columns of his that I have read.
Fred Starr, 1942 |
The first essay is about a teenager named Marjorie, a
student at Greenland, where Starr was principal. She was killed in an
automobile accident just a couple of days before Christmas in 1940. The second
is about selling his farm in Greenland, a place where Margaret, his daughter, was born and
died a few months later.
In the two essays, Starr's Ozark voice is plain but eloquent
and moving, and his writing seems as honest as it get.
***********************************
Hillside Adventures
By Fred Starr
Northwest Arkansas
Times
December 26, 1940
Tonight I keep thinking of Marjorie. Today we left her
yonder on a peaceful hillside overlooking a clear rippling stream and a long,
sloping, quiet valley. There in a country burying ground, underneath a great
mound of flowers, she is taking her long sleep.
Marjorie was young, beautiful, vivacious and loved life as
only a teenage kid could. She had never harmed a body in all her short stay
here. Day before yesterday life stretched away ahead of her, a life of
happiness and usefulness lay out there just ahead. Last week I watched her
going about her tasks in a crowded schoolroom, saw her pass out presents to her
schoolmates and wave them a farewell for a short Christmas vacation.
Then, out of a hushed, starlit twilight death struck. One
moment her eyes were alive with joy and light and laughter. The next there was
a sickening ...ripping ... crashing thud and Marjorie lay beside a country road
her beautiful body maimed and crushed, her lovely features streaked and smeared
with blood...another life snuffed out by a misguided automobile.
A turn of the steering wheel one little round and life is
never the same again for those of us who loved Marjorie. Tonight stunned and
bewildered, her loved ones sit with numbed hearts, gripped with an iron hand of
grief that, turn which way they may, crushes and smothers and maims. Tomorrow
there will be an empty chair at the Christmas table and food that was to be eaten
will go untouched.
But somehow knowing Marjorie as we did; having known her gay
laughter, the bright twinkle in her eyes and her way of taking life in her
stride, I feel she must be continuing to be the same wonderful girl in
transition. Out beyond the stars that shine so cold and bright tonight her
spirit must be winging its way, going on and on in another life in the same
carefree, happy, courageous way. What a lovely angel she must be!
While here Marjorie lighted a torch. Its flames are glowing
still and will continue to glow long after the grass is green on the fresh
mound and the snow of many winters have come and gone.
Socrates after drinking the hemlock said to his listeners,
"I go. You stay. I wonder who is the better off?" And as I sit with
the beautiful and lovable memory before me, I too, am wondering.
Hillside Adventures
By Fred Starr
Northwest Arkansas
Times
July 30, 1940
Tomorrow is moving day at our house. In a weak moment we let
a real estate agent sell our farm right out from under us and tomorrow's sun
will be the last one we shall see from the east window of the place now called
home.
When I was but a child my father contracted itching feet and
there has always been much moving in the family. Why, I can remember we used to
move so often when the chickens saw us coming to catch them they just walked up
and crossed their legs.
The process of uprooting oneself from one location and
moving on somehow brings an empty pang that much changing of abode never quite dispels
unless you are a gypsy at heart and love to be forever on the road seeking new
adventures.
We have done a heap of living in this house in these two
years. Many joys and one great sorrow have been ours. Through the front door we
followed our last born and we could not bring her back. With the snow white
casket went a lot of life's sunshine. We felt we never wanted to see the place
again. But life must be lived out. One does not run away, not if he is to keep
on living.
The moon is right for moving and we should have great luck
if it wasn't for the fact we are moving the cat and the broom.
Some hill folks are wont to say three moves is bad as havin'
a burn out, an' no doubt they are right. But moving has its compensations as
well as drawbacks. There is something about going into a new house that gives you a sort of a lift. It's like turning over a new leaf. You hope there will be
less mistakes made under the new roof and that there in the different
environment you might run across the happiness you have strived for and fell
short of in the old surroundings.
State Representative Fred Starr and Anti-Desegregation Legislation, 1956-1958
In a previous posts, I have written about Fred Starr, who was an educator, author, and columnist in Northwest Arkansas for more than thirty-five years. In these posts, I mentioned that he was elected to the Arkansas House of Representatives in
1954 and served in that body from 1955 to 1958. These years were turbulent ones
for Arkansas as its elected leaders enacted laws and proposed constitutional
amendments to maintain Arkansas' segregated schools.
(See the previous posts about Fred Starr at these links: http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/05/fred-starr-ozark-folklorist-writer-and.html and http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/09/greenland-arkansas-in-late-1930s.html )
(See the previous posts about Fred Starr at these links: http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/05/fred-starr-ozark-folklorist-writer-and.html and http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/09/greenland-arkansas-in-late-1930s.html )
Starr did not write anything in his books or his "Hillside
Adventures" column about his work in the state legislature, and I have not
read elsewhere about his time as a state representative. To find out more about
his role in the political events during this tumultuous time, I searched the
local paper, the Northwest Arkansas
Times, for relevant stories.
The 1954 Election
In 1954, when Starr decided to run for a seat in the state House of Representatives, he had never before run for a political office. However, he was well known in Northwest Arkansas, and the position was to represent Washington County and part of Madison County in the state legislature. Starr had been making speeches to area clubs and schools for two decades, had a weekly hill-wisdom column in the local paper, had had a weekly radio show, and had been a teacher, principal, and superintendent in Greenland, Farmington, and Elkins.
Arkansas was still a one-party state in 1954, and Starr ran as a Democrat. He had two opponents in the Democratic primary, whose rules required a candidate to get a majority vote, either in the first primary or in a run-off, to be the party's nominee. In the first primary election, Starr received the most votes of the three candidates, but not a majority. In the run-off, he faced David Burleson, a young Fayetteville lawyer. Burleson, a graduate of Fayetteville High School and the University of Arkansas, had been a pilot during WWII and had been recalled to service for the Korean War, retiring as a Lt. Colonel. Starr and Burleson were both popular candidates, and the result of the run-off election was close: Starr won with 4,080 votes, barely more than Burleson's 3,955 vote. (Burleson was elected to be a state representative in 1958 and held that office until 1967.) Starr had no Republican opposition in the general election held in November.
In the same 1954 primary elections, Orval Faubus was elected to his first term as Arkansas' governor, upsetting incumbent governor Francis Cherry. Also, in 1954, the U.S. Supreme Court issued its decision on the Brown v Board of Education of Topeka Kansas case, mandating an end to segregated schools. These two events set the stage for some of the most dramatic and traumatic years in Arkansas' history, and Fred Starr was destined to play a role in the conflict as a member of Arkansas' legislature.
Arkansas was still a one-party state in 1954, and Starr ran as a Democrat. He had two opponents in the Democratic primary, whose rules required a candidate to get a majority vote, either in the first primary or in a run-off, to be the party's nominee. In the first primary election, Starr received the most votes of the three candidates, but not a majority. In the run-off, he faced David Burleson, a young Fayetteville lawyer. Burleson, a graduate of Fayetteville High School and the University of Arkansas, had been a pilot during WWII and had been recalled to service for the Korean War, retiring as a Lt. Colonel. Starr and Burleson were both popular candidates, and the result of the run-off election was close: Starr won with 4,080 votes, barely more than Burleson's 3,955 vote. (Burleson was elected to be a state representative in 1958 and held that office until 1967.) Starr had no Republican opposition in the general election held in November.
Advertisement for Radio Show in August, 1947 |
In the same 1954 primary elections, Orval Faubus was elected to his first term as Arkansas' governor, upsetting incumbent governor Francis Cherry. Also, in 1954, the U.S. Supreme Court issued its decision on the Brown v Board of Education of Topeka Kansas case, mandating an end to segregated schools. These two events set the stage for some of the most dramatic and traumatic years in Arkansas' history, and Fred Starr was destined to play a role in the conflict as a member of Arkansas' legislature.
Political Turmoil:
1955-1958
Starr was a state representative during a time when its
elected leaders attempted to stop the federally-mandated desegregation
of schools in the state. Among the many anti-integration measures passed by the
Arkansas General Assembly during Starr's terms as a representative were the
following:
In 1955 and 1956, the legislature
passed nullification and interposition laws that asserted, basically, the Supreme Court's Brown v Board of Education
of Topeka Kansas decision did not apply to Arkansas and that the federal
government was not allowed to exercise power over Arkansas schools. In the 1956
general election, voters approved the legislature's "Act of
Interposition" and gave a majority vote to amending the state constitution
to include an interposition provision (Amendment 47). The laws and constitutional
amendment were ruled unconstitutional by the U.S. Supreme Court in the Cooper v. Aaron decision.
In the 1957 legislative session,
the Arkansas state legislature passed laws to create a Sovereignty Commission
with extensive investigative powers; to make persons and groups engaged in
certain activities register with the state and report on income and expenses; to
drop the requirement for compulsory attendance in integrated schools; and to
permit school boards to use school money for attorneys in fighting integration
suites. The first two laws were called "Gestapo bills" by opponents.
In August 1958, the Arkansas state
legislature in special session enacted more than a dozen laws to battle school
integration. These included Act 10 requiring state employees to list their
political affiliations during the previous five years. Act 15 forbid public
employment of NAACP members. Thus, state employees who disclosed membership in
the NAACP would be fired. The laws passed in 1958 also gave the governor power to
close public schools, and he used that power to close all of Little Rock's high
schools for the 1958-59 school year, an action approved by overwhelmingly by
city voters in a referendum.
Starr and Desegregation Legislation
More than fifty-five years after Starr took office, it is difficult to reconstruct his legislative career to determine what legislation he supported and what he opposed. It is clear that he was not in a leadership position during the four years that he served. As a backbencher, his votes were rarely mentioned by newspapers. The Northwest Arkansas Times, the local paper for which he wrote "Hillside Adventures," provided sparse coverage of the state legislature during these years.
More than fifty-five years after Starr took office, it is difficult to reconstruct his legislative career to determine what legislation he supported and what he opposed. It is clear that he was not in a leadership position during the four years that he served. As a backbencher, his votes were rarely mentioned by newspapers. The Northwest Arkansas Times, the local paper for which he wrote "Hillside Adventures," provided sparse coverage of the state legislature during these years.
Nevertheless, we can get some insight about Starr's votes on
anti-desegregation legislation in two ways. First, we can conclude from
newspaper accounts of legislative sessions that Starr voted for every
legislative proposal to resist desegregation of Arkansas schools that came before the house of representatives. This conclusion is based on the fact that all of this legislation passed with very few -- usually one or two --
representatives voting against it. From all indications, Starr was never among
those who voted against the pro-segregation legislation.
Second, Starr wrote an almost daily column during the 1957
regular session of the Arkansas General Assembly. The column, titled "In
the Legislature" was written in Starr's folksy style and seemed to
designed educate readers about how the state legislature worked and what was
going on there. It was published in the Northwest
Arkansas Times.
His columns show that Starr voted for all four
1957 legislative proposals intended to support efforts to keep Arkansas'
schools segregated. However, despite these votes in favor of the anti-desegregation bills,
Starr maintained that he opposed at least some of the legislation for which he
voted.
The four bills were passed with no debate and only one vote
against them. As noted above, they created a "Sovereignty Commission," dropped
requirement for compulsory attendance in integrated schools, permitted school
boards to use school money for attorneys in fighting integration, and made
persons and groups engaged in certain kinds of activities to register with the
state and report in income and expenses. The latter measure was intended to
force the NAACP to reveal who provided it with financial support.
Apparently, Starr's votes did not please many of his
constituents. He explained the reason for his votes in his column published on
February 19:
Many of the people in our district
seem decidedly disturbed about the [segregation] bills, and about the vote of
their representatives on the matter. After conversation with several of the
people by phone and by word of mouth while I was home over the weekend, I have
the feeling my explanation as to why I voted as I did was accepted.
Christ once said, "Ye shall
know the truth and the truth small make you free." You who are not down here in the midst of this confusion do not always
know the truth. Even if you did know the facts of the matter, you still would
not know exactly how to react to certain situations unless you also knew all of
the implications involved.
Even when we voted on these matters
last fall, I had the feeling the Supreme Court would have its say, and would
undo the whole shebang. I have the same feeling about these four bills. Someone
very emphatically inquired why we wanted to shift the burden to the shoulders
of the Supreme Court? This person seemed to think in so doing I was neglecting
my duty as a representative.
What some folks don't know about
the making of laws is that if you are going to get the things done you want
done, you sometimes have to help the other fellow do some of the things he
wants done. It is a matter of: You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. As
this country was being settled there was a custom of helping each other roll
their logs. Naturally if you didn't help the other fellow, then he didn't help
you. Whether it is good or bad in politics, I wouldn't attempt to argue.
I have a feeling -- and this is
purely a feeling -- that the governor told the legislators from Eastern
Arkansas who were bitterly opposed to the increase in sales tax that if they
would help put over his program he would try to help them with their
segregation problems. Maybe he didn't know how far-reaching these bills were.
He may have not been aware they would cause any more feeling that did the ones
voted on last November. He did state he was for them, and he is quite a bit
smarter than I ever hope to be.
Time is the element that will take
care of our problems. We are in an altogether different setup in Fayetteville
relative to this question than are the people where the races are half and
half. They will have to have time to absorb the shock of this impact which
tends to destroy a thing that has been a part of their way of life so long.
The reason we have two houses in
the Arkansas legislature is so one can correct the mistakes of the other. The
Senate passed the loyalty oath without a "no" vote. We fought the
thing hard in the House and lost the battle. I stood with five other people in
voting against it. We were trying to correct a mistake we thought the Senate
had made. I certainly hope the Senate corrects the mistakes we made in sending
them these segregation bills
The segregation bills were still on his mind when he wrote
in his column published the following day, February 20:
I
cannot always guarantee my vote as recorded to be vote I would prefer to give.
I still reserve the right to refuse to light the fuse that would cause a stick
of dynamite to be discharged right under my feet. Sometimes a member of this
body votes contrary to his conscience because it is not at all a good feeling
to have a rug snatched out from under you.
Starr wrote about this topic again in a column published the next day, on February
21:
It seems that the segregation bills
-- like the poor -- will be with us from now on. Yesterday the Senate passed
all four measures but two of them were amended. Those amended will now come
back to the House to be voted on again. Then they have to be signed by the
governor. Senator Wade voted against the two amended bills -- HB322 [creating
the Sovereignty Commission] and 324. They were the most vicious of the set.
However some think the most undigestible parts of them were amended out. Later
we will have the task of voting for or against a $50,000 appropriation to make
322 work.
Two of the House members are now in
the hospital from heart attacks. If they keep throwing those highly
controversial bills at us, a few more may decide to join those two. Pressure
groups are exerting more pressure on all sides all of the time....
Finally, in a column published on February 26, Starr wrote his last defense of his votes:
In this matter of making laws, each
member has a very little stick. One vote out of 100 is a very small way of
speaking your sentiments. Not one time since coming here has one vote made the
difference in passing or failing to pass any measure. Yet each member feels he
has a big responsibility.
Letters are still coming in
regarding the matter of segregation. One lady sent down a letter of two and a
half typewritten pages, with 20 odd questions about how to yet put a damper on
these bills. They only way they can be stopped is to vote down the
appropriation of $50,000 for setting up the commission on the sovereignty
measure. There will be some votes against it. Should the Washington County delegation vote against it, the
appropriation for the University will come in for some very careful study.
If the appropriation for the
segregation measure is handled as the bills were, there will not be much choice in the matter. You, too, could
possibly recognize a steamroller if you saw one about to run over you. The boys
who have this thing so much to heart will simply have to have a little more
time to get themselves adjusted. The change is inevitable, but they do not see
the handwriting on the wall.
These columns show the mind of a practical politician rather
than a reformer who might be cited as a "profile in courage" or a
moral crusader. Starr seems to say that the opposed the bills; indeed, he
thought some of them were "vicious." However, he voted for them
because (1) the Supreme Court would likely undo them, and (2) he was scratching
backs so they would later scratch his.
Starr suggested that even though he did not favor the bills,
he could not stop them with his one vote; on the other hand, he says, if he and
his Washington County colleagues opposed the bills, the appropriation for the
University of Arkansas might be jeopardized. He seemed to think that opposing
the "steamroller" would not only be futile, but also cause a
"stick of dynamite" to explode at his feet. Besides, Gov. Faubus was for the bills, and "he is quite a bit smarter than I ever hope to be."
If we take him at his word, Starr viewed integration as
inevitable in the long run, and he favored giving the staunchest opponents time
to adjust to the changing conditions. I do not know if he advocated this
position because he really believed that
racist views would change or because such a "moderate" approach to
segregation could be used almost indefinitely to delay integration.
Perhaps his arguments for his votes for segregation
legislation make sense, and certainly it not fair to judge Starr, in
retrospect, too harshly. Almost all state representatives and senators voted for all of the proposed anti-desegregation bills. Nevertheless, whatever the practical reasons for his vote, Starr
ended up on the wrong side of history -- as did almost all Arkansas state
representatives and senators who served in the legislature from 1955 to
1958. We look back at their actions during these crisis years and regret the stands they took.
Starr Retires from the State Legislature
After serving his first term (1955-1956), Starr was elected to a second term in 1956 without opposition. He did not run for re-election in 1958.
Starr Retires from the State Legislature
After serving his first term (1955-1956), Starr was elected to a second term in 1956 without opposition. He did not run for re-election in 1958.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
German Immigrant Gustav Klingelhöffer, Friedrich Gerstäcker's Friend in 19th Century Arkansas
Like hundreds of thousands of Germans, Gustav Klingelhöffer and
his family immigrated to the United States during the first half of the 19th century. He was an
educated man, a Lutheran pastor, who led the effort of a group of disaffected Germans in the
Rheinhessen region to form an emigration society that planned create a German
colony in the Arkansas.
Pastor Klingelhöffer headed this group of 250 to 350 people,
called the Mainzer Emigration Society, as they took a boat from Bremen, headed
for Little Rock via New Orleans. Apparently, the group had disagreements even before they
reached New Orleans, and only about 140, around 60 families, took
the steamboat trip from there to Little Rock, arriving in May 1833. The
others went in different directions.
Of the sixty families who came to Arkansas, many stayed in
the Little Rock area, others moved to different counties in Arkansas, and some
left for other states. Klingelhöffer bought a farm on
the Fourche le Fave in Perry County and lived the rest of his life there, dying
in 1873.
Unlike most immigrants, who lived and died in obscurity, we know many things about Klingelhöffer because of a German traveler and writer by the
name of Friedrich Gerstäcker, who spend many months in Arkansas between 1837 and 1843, staying several nights with Klingelhöffer and his family in Perry
County.
At the time, Gerstäcker was a young man on his first trip to the United States, and he traveled extensively in Arkansas and other states, getting special pleasure in killing bears, deer, turkeys, buffalo, and whatever
meandered into his path. He visited Little Rock several times, but did not like it. While there, he met several members of the 1833 group who had settled in or near the city.
After he returned to Germany in 1843, Gerstäcker wrote an account of his trip that was published in 1844 as Streif- und Jagdzüge durch die Vereinigten Staaten von Nordamerika (Rambling
and Hunting in the United States of North America). The book was successful, and it was translated
and published in English in 1845 as Wild Sport in the Far West. In that book, Gerstäcker wrote this about
Klingelhöffer:
He had been accustomed to a quiet
comfortable life in his early days, having been a Clergyman in Germany, but he
had shaken off the superintendent yoke of his native country, exchanging it for
the independent life of a farmer in the American forests, and was happy and
contented in his family circle. His young wife was quite an example of
household virtue: they had four very fine children. He produced almost
everything that he required, and though in his youth unaccustomed to hard work,
he cultivated his land alone, and was not behind any American in the use of his
axe; his cattle and pigs were among the best in the place. (J.B. Lippencott Company, 1859(?), pp. 228-229)
The rest of Gerstäcker's life was spent traveling in
different parts of the world, and writing about his exploits. He returned to
Arkansas after the Civil War, in 1867, and he visited his old friend Klingelhöffer,
with whom he had remained in contact by mail. The following is an account of
what he found:
Klingelhöffer told him about the
difficulties experienced in the backwoods area during the war at the hands of
the Bushwhackers and Jayhawkers. Although many friends around him had been
killed by the roving bands of outlaws, the losses within Klingelhöffer’s own
family had been the most difficult. Gerstäcker wrote, “His only son had gone
against the will of this strong Union man and had joined the Confederate army
only to meet his death. That broke Klingelhöffer’s heart, and he has never
completely recovered.” [This
description is adapted from Schuette, Strangers
to the Land: The German Presence in Nineteenth Century Arkansas (p. 73),
who quotes Anita Bukey and Evan Burr Bukey. “Arkansas After the War: From the
Journal of Frederick Gerstaecker.” Arkansas Historical Quarterly XXXIII, no. 3 (Autumn 1973): 255-273.]
(For more about Gerstäcker, see this entry in the Encyclopedia of Arkansas: http://encyclopediaofarkansas.net/encyclopedia/entry-detail.aspx?entryID=1656)
Klingelhöffer and his second
wife, Martha Louise, had brought two small children with them across the ocean
and had nine more after they moved to Perry County. Three of those nine died
within 24 months of their birth. Their oldest daughter died at the age of 28 in
1858; her husband was killed fighting for the confederacy, leaving two small
children to live with their grandparents.
Only one of Klingelhöffer's sons
survived infancy. Although, as Gerstäcker noted, Gustav was a strong supporter of the Union, his
son, listed in Civil War records as “Gus Klingelhoeffer,” joined
the Confederate army. He enlisted as a private on July 29, 1861 at Pocahontas (see
http://www.couchgenweb.com/civilwar/3cavD.html). Gus was in Company D of the 3rd
Arkansas Cavalry Regiment at the time of his death on October 4, 1862 at Corinth,
Mississippi. See http://history-sites.com/cgi-bin/bbs53x/arcwmb/arch_config.pl?noframes;read=8097
I have written a paper with more
about Gustav Klingelhöffer; it is at this site: http://www.scribd.com/doc/69943845/Revisiting-Klingelhoeffer-An-Early-German-Immigrant-in-Arkansas
Also, an article about another family among the 1833 German immigrants to Little Rock, published in the Pulaski County Historical Review, is
available at this site: http://www.scribd.com/doc/69940474/Those-Enterprising-Georges-Early-German-Settlers-in-Little-Rock
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Thinking Cheap, Buying "Brown" in Austria, 1972
As a student in Vienna during the 1971-1972 academic year, I was always looking
for ways to save money. Fortunately, Austrians made it possible for students to
live cheaply with subsidized eateries (Mensa); cheap student lodging (Studentenheim);
reduced prices for museums, plays, opera and concerts; and reduced fares on
public transportation. For most of these discounts, all you needed was proof
that you were a university student.
With an eye out for such bargains, I was pleased to hear
that I could get discounts on train travel if I belonged to a organized travel
group. So, one day I was walking near my apartment in the Eighth District and noticed a sign for the Ősterreichischer Alpenverein (ŐAV), the Austrian Alpine Club. I decided
to sign up, figuring the dues would quickly be exceeded by savings on travel
using the Austrian national railways.
Also, occupation played a large role in determining to which
political camp you belonged. Most laborers ("workers") were in the
socialist camp, and most shop owners, farmers, and managers were Catholic
conservatives.
It was within this 1971-72 political framework that I had
meandered unknowingly into a tacit affiliation with the far right political camp by becoming a member of the Ősterreichischer Alpenverein. What I had not known is that ŐAV, the oldest mountain climbing and hiking group in Austria,
had an unsavory history. The club was created
in 1862 as an organization for mountain climbers and hikers, and its first sixty years were benevolent: it helped develop trails and built mountain huts in the Alps. But soon after WWI, it entered politics when -- merged with the German Alpine Club (DAV) -- it became a promoter of the
"German way of life" and developed anti-Semitic policies. In 1924, it allowed
its different sections to prohibit Jews from being members, which most did. After the Anschluss, the ŐAV continued to function as a Nazi-sanctioned organization within the Austrian Gau.
In addition, other bargains, available to everyone, were to
be found, including the incredibly cheap "standing room" places for even
the best music and dance events. With plenty of time to stand in line, I got excellent
standing spots to hear the Wiener Philharmonic, observe Leonard Bernstein
conduct Mahler symphonies, and watch Nureyev dance.
Membership Card for the Austrian Alpine Club (front) |
Later that day, when I mentioned that I had joined the Ősterreichischer
Alpenverein to my friend Jörg Wollmann, a Viennese who was a few years older
than me, he gave me a funny look, shook his head, and said something like, "Don't you know
that is a brown group."
Well, I didn't know, and I was not sure what he meant.
However, I was quite aware of the deep political divisions in Austrian society
that had created, from the beginnings of the First Republic after WWI,
what political scientists had called "Lager," roughly translated as
"political camps," into which most people were born and stayed their
whole lives.
The two main political camps were the socialists (or social
democrats) and the Catholic-conservatives. Membership in the camps was, to a large
extent, a matter of geography: most members were grouped together based on
where they lived. For example, a large majority of Viennese (excluding those
living in a few districts) were solidly members of the socialist camp, while
most rural and small city Austrians were members of the Catholic-conservative
camp. In industrial cities, the socialists lived in worker's districts, and the
Catholic-conservatives lived elsewhere.
Membership Card for the Austrian Alpine Club (inside) |
After WWII, the two camps were roughly equal in size, each about
45 percent of the population. The people comprising the other ten percent of the population were independent or were members of smaller political camps,
including a German nationalist group and a communist group. The first group was
on the far right, and it attracted, some said, people with Nazi sympathies. It typically
struggled to get the five percent of the vote needed to be represented in the
national parliament. The communist group
usually received less than two percent of the vote nationally.
Being a part of a political camp meant much more than supporting
a political party. It also meant that you associated mainly with others of your camp. You lived next to them, went to school with them, went (or didn't go) to
church with them, read the same newspapers and magazines, were members of the same social
clubs, and were members of the same unions or employer groups or industry associations.
In short, you spent your time mostly with people in your political camp from cradle
to grave.
These lager were at odds over many basic issues, economic, social,
and religious. The divisions and enmity were so great during the 1920s and
1930s that each created their own militias, and in 1934, the
Catholic-conservative militia (Heimwehr) teamed with the Austrian army (commanded
by Dollfuss, the Catholic-conservative Chancellor) to crush the social
democrats in a brief and decisive civil war.
Out of the ruins of the 1938 Anschluss and World War II,
Austrians found ways to build bridges between the two camps so that future
armed strife could be avoided. The mechanisms for managing conflict included a
Grand Coalition of the two main political camps that governed the country for decades after the end of the war,
plus other mechanisms to insure that the two camps shared power, influence, and
positions. Essentially, each political camp had a veto power over government action to address major national issues.
The grip of the political camps declined slowly as Austrian
society became a bit more mobile and people moved to different locations where
they regularly encountered people from other political camps. Also, as radio
and television became more important sources of information, members of the
camps heard differing points of views: the lager lost their near-monopoly on
the flow of information to their members. (Radio and television were nationalized after
WWII, and their operations were managed jointly by the representatives of the two
camps.)
In 1971 and 1972, the political
camps still dominated politics, but were weakening. In 1971, Bruno Kreisky's Socialist
Party (SPŐ) received 50 percent of the vote in Parliamentary elections, winning a
majority of the seats in Parliament. For the first time since WWII, one party
governed Austria without a coalition.
In that election, the German nationalist party, the Freiheitliche Partei Österreichs (FPŐ) received 5.5 percent of the vote, winning
10 seats in the 183-seat Parliament. Its
fortunes would improve in coming decades, but in 1971 it still was a fringe
party with a suspicious membership, winning support mainly from rural parts of
the country.
Book published by the Austrian Alpine Club, October 2011 |
The ŐAV, now the largest travel group in Austria,
acknowledges the unsavory elements of its history (see this web site: http://bit.ly/nzXmvz ). As part of the upcoming celebration of the 150th
anniversary of its founding, it is publishing a book that critically examines
its history from 1918 to 1945. The book is entitled Berg Heil!
Alpenverein und Bergsteigen 1918-1945.
Despite its present popularity, in 1972, at least some people, including Jörg,
viewed the ŐAV, based on its history, as a "brown" (Nazi-associated) or "blue" (FPŐ-associated) club. People who were strongly anti-Nazi and/or were members of other political camps (the reds and blacks) were unlikely to join it. People who had brown sympathies and/or were members of the German national political camp were more likely to be members of this travel and mountain climbing club than any other one.
I discovered that other travel and mountain climbing clubs existed for members of the main
political camps. If you were a member of the SPŐ ("red") camp, you would likely join Die
Naturfreunde Ősterreichs (the Friends of Nature of Austria), created in 1895 to
assist workers to enjoy travel and nature. As a member of the Catholic conservative ("black") camp, with the Ősterreichische Volkspartei (ŐVP) at its center, you would likely join the Ősterreichische Touristenverein
(ŐTV), the Austrian Tourist Club, founded in 1908 and affiliated then with the Christian Socialist Party.
When I figured out that I had joined a group that some people
considered "brown" or "blue," I was chagrined. I had simply wanted a discount on rail travel and had stopped by the office of the nearest travel organization that would get me that discount. By joining this Club, inadvertently aligning myself with repugnant
political views, I learned a lesson about how simple private acts in Austria
could convey a regrettable political message.