Dac Crossley's Western Blog

Earth Day 2019

Earth Day comes around again.

The 1970s became a period of environmental awareness. The country began to awaken to the deplorable direction we had taken. Here in Athens, Georgia, members of the Institute of Ecology gave public lectures that were well attended.

The first Earth Day, April 22 1970, we spread the word about the concept. I traveled to a small college over in Alabama to give a lecture. With a carousel of slides under my arm, I was alarmed to find that I was to speak outside in the quad. So I gave it my best shot. Alabama Governor Wallace had sent a representative down to find out what this was all about.

In the 70's we made real progress. We got the lead out of gasoline, over the screams of the auto industry. A colleague at Emory took tree corings for elemental analysis. He told me that he could see exactly when lead disappeared from the atmosphere.

Water. I wore a tie clasp (remember?) that said "Clean Water." We debated among ourselves -- how do you judge water quality? We persevered.

Air. Our cities were covered with a yellow haze, quite visible when you flew into one. I was sampling on Panola Mountain near Atlanta and right in the flight path to the airport. You couldn't see downtown Atlanta from there, because of the haze. And, I spent a winter quarter in Riverside, California. Ugh!

It wasn't easy to do. Resistance to change was fierce. Over and over again, we heard the old saw: "Needs more study." No it didn't. You could see, smell and taste pollution. Eventually we got government action.

The bad news -- It will have to be done all over again. Industrial figures have taken away the EPA. The fox is in the henhouse. Our leadership is denying climate change, their heads in the sand.

C'mon, youngsters! Take charge! To the polls!

Dac Crossley
April 22, 2019

"The only difference between death and taxes is that death doesn't get worse every time Congress meets." -- Will Rogers.

The Hero of San Jacinto

"Soldiers of the army of the Republic of Texas! I leave you one thought to take with you across the Plain of San Jacinto and into the camp of Santa Anna. Remember the Alamo!"

Thus spoke the old actor Richard Dix in a 1930's movie I recall from my childhood. For me, Sam Houston will always be Richard Dix.

Indeed the Mexican General Santa Anna had made a mistake. He thought that Houston was fleeing with his little army for Louisiana, US territory and out of reach. Santa Anna's large army traveled slowly, so he took a contingent of troops to get between Houston and Louisiana. Houston's army attacked the Mexicans and won freedom for Texas. Old Sam was heroic; his big horse Saracen was shot from beneath him; Houston took a bullet to his ankle. (Left or right ankle? Still debated occasionally).

But there was still that big Mexican army waiting back across the Brazos River. Houston forced Santa Anna to order that army to return to Mexico, a message delivered to them by the scout Deaf Smith.

The Mexican officers debated. What to do? The Generalissimo was a prisoner so the order was illegal. Should they ignore it? But supplies ran thin and the spring rains set in, turning the fields to a sea of mud. Best to return to Matamoros, they decided. Await developments and re-group.

That Mexican army never returned to Texas. But the conflict never ended. The wound has not yet healed.

One Hundred Years of Texas

In the springtime of 1936, the State of Texas celebrated its centennial year. Back in 1836 Texas had declared independence from Mexico and defeated the Mexican army at the battle of San Jacinto. (For Texans, it's always "Jay-cinto" with a hard J. No "Hacinto" for the winners).

For the Centennial event a huge fairground was opened between the cities of Dallas and Fort Worth. Statues of the Alamo heroes, Bowie, Travis, Crockett graced the grounds. Agricultural exhibits competed with fairground rides. It was a big, bustling affair.

As a little boy I saw those fairgrounds the next year, 1937, when Mom took me to Dallas to have Uncle Sidney cut out my tonsils. I don't remember much, except for the giant statue of a Texan in cowboy garb. I have no memory of the controversial statue of Buffalo Bill.

The bigger-than-life statue showed Bill Cody astride his horse, rifle raised in the air while he scanned the ground for Indian footprints. An icon for the Fair. But controversy soon boiled up in Dallas. Buffalo Bill was a Yankee who fought for the Union. He spied on the Confederacy. Texas was a southern state.

Texas had enthusiastically joined the Confederacy. Cotton was its mainstay, grown in the eastern prairies. Austin, the State capitol, was thought to be too far west. Texas was part of the South.

Or was it still? Texas had its own origin story, the Fall of the Alamo and the brave heroes, victorious Sam Houston and the Texan army, the cattle empires and now petroleum. No longer a need to remember the Lost Cause, Spanish moss drooping in the miasma of a ruined land. No, Texas was moving west.

Historians mark the 1936 Centennial as the point at which Texas turned its back on the burdens of defeat and reconstruction, and faced away from that part of its heritage. From that event forward, Texas became part of the West.

The Centennial Exposition did display Confederate flags and statues of its heroes. But Texas now celebrates cowboys and longhorns, Tex-Mex heritage, ranching kingdoms, oil barons, military bases and the Space Industry. As a Georgia writer friend puu it, "You Texans got over the Civil War. We never have."

The Shelf of Essential Books

I have one bookshelf that's devoted to books I'm gonna read again and again. The keepers. Not reference books or hobbies such as astronomy (although I haven't added much to "Astronomy" recently. Star-gazing isn't what it used to be.).

You'll find a few novels on my keepers shelf. Barbara Kingsolver (guess which one?). Philip Lee Williams. Lucia St. Clair. Mostly, though, I reserve that shelf for books that have changed my life. Science. Religion. Philosophy. Poetry has its own shelf.

A two-and-a-half shelf can hold but so many books, so it's rare for me to add a book there. I have to throw out one to make room for a new one. Today I've done that. Added a new book.

I've added "Timefulness," by Marcia Bjornerud. Subtitle: "How thinking like a geologist can change the world."

I had a course in Geology oh, so many years ago. I recall discussing Wegener's book, "Floating Continents," and how that idea could explain so much about animal dispersal. There was no known mechanism. Then came Plate Tectonics, the geologist's equivalent of the theory of natural selection. Everything fell into place.

"Timefulness" gave me a modern view of the history of our planet, how it got to where it is, and where we're taking it. I read the book slowly. Every few pages I had to stop and think about what I'd read. It's that good. You need to read it, too.

Another new book I'd put on the essential shelf if I wasn't referring to it so often. "Dreyer's English," by Benjamin Dreyer. The man is a copy editor at Random House. You recall that I am a writer of prose. Dreyer gives me the modern rules of grammar. Things that confuse me such as "lay" and "lie." Now, that's helpful.

Under construction: A new western novel; Kingsville, Texas in 1955. And memoirs. As Harriette Austin told us, memoirs is what you remember. Not what actually happened. So look out! You might be in there.

Dac Crossley
April 3, 2019

“I do not wish women to have power over men, but over themselves.” -- Mary Wollstonecraft.