Monday, October 23, 2017

Sandblasting in gale winds--worst ever--empty beach till the end when Bruce came up from the north

But Bruce is a retired cop so you expect toughness. In this picture you can't see the sheets of sand whipping to the ocean.

And where again and where again was Vicey Alford Henderson born? Don't base firm conclusions on a census or two.

She was enumerated with Abner Newton Henderson Sr on the Morgan County, AL census dated 1840; Levisa was shown at age 32 as a white female.
She was enumerated with Abner Newton Henderson Sr on the Pike County, AR census dated November 13, 1850; Vica was shown at age 42 as a white female born in Virginia.
She was enumerated with Abner Newton Henderson Sr on the Pike County, AR census dated August 9, 1860; Luvisa was shown at age 53 as a white female born in Tennessee.
She was enumerated with Andrew Jackson "Jack" Henderson on the Pike County, AR census dated August 6, 1870; Lavise was shown at age 62 as a white female born in Tennessee. Her occupation was keeping house. She could read but not write.
She was enumerated with Louis Marion Henderson on the Pike County, AR census dated June 22, 1880; Louvisa was shown at age 73 as a widowed white female, mother of L.M., born in Alabama. Her parents were born in Virginia. Levisa "Vicey" Alford died in 1881 at Hot Spring County, AR. She was buried at Oma Cemetery, Hot Spring County, AR.

Maunderings. Winds too ferocious to put trash cans to curb; thinking instead of Candice Bergen

Why when I reach up for the coffee filters do I always think of the fig tree on Avondale near the Brentwood Country Mart?

The New Yorker reviewed THE MEYEROWITZ STORIES (NEW AND SELECTED). I see it is on Netflix and want to watch it for Candice Bergen's "sublime" and substantial speech. No one else around does.

The only thing I remember about one horrible year, some time ago, is Candice Bergan in her khakis in the doorway of Fairfax High School, making a sublime and substantial speech. There never was anything or anybody so beautiful.

But now when I think of her I think of Jay Thomas's being dead already, and so young.

Already the cat has been tolled down here in the cavern, safely away from the deconstructors and constructors who ought to arrive prepared to hang from the roof as I used to do, from a prehensile ear. The wind really is unnerving, and it will pull impossibly high temperatures in.

On Netflix I can find Candice Bergen's sublime and substantial speech and watch just it. I could. Or I could find out about the caravan from Morgan County, Alabama to Pike County, Arkansas that Abner Henderson drove in the early 1840s. How many weeks did it take them, Ab and the Alfords?

Saturday, October 21, 2017

The Geni genealogical site--creating fanciful pathways of kinship, e.g. to Senator Glenn and F. Scott Fitzgerald

I noticed recently that one of the DNA cousins, the Renfrewshire Glenns, is the ancestor of the astronaut. I am doubly a Glenn so this pleased me. Geni offers a kinship path, so I clicked on it, and got an elaborate chart showing kinship from my mother and not my father, the Glenn, and getting a ggg grandmother and grandfather wholly wrong. So, although it is bedtime, I checked F. Scott Fitzgerald, and they got that wrong too, through my mother and not my Warfield father, and got the same ggg grandparents of my mother wrong, and so everything after that wrong. You can never be too careful. Maybe Geni is right about the biblical Seth. I intend to live a long time.

Oregon teen nearly loses eye as e-cigarette explodes

headline:



Water all over beach, then strange male couples stealth run, not announced anywhere

On my way back the beach was suddenly populated. Male couples, all healthy looking, not young, none under 30 or so, none older than 55 or so, not in packs, just spaced couples, no race numbers visible but similarity of attire (backpacks required), wearing mainly black or blue. Men from Cayucos taking over Morro Bay from the old folks? No, they did not advance inland. In Marin County I would have thought gay work-out buddies or partners. Who knows?

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

One of the last private beaches in the United States

Good thing Cousin Campbell Slemp did in 1904--helped widow of Revolutionary soldier

This is Campbell Slemp (Campbell as in Campbell Scott, George C. Scott's son). The bill was to increase the pension of one of the 2 surviving widows of Revolutionary soldiers.


Mrs. Mayo had the “most notable pension granted by the last session of Congress” given to her. The sponsor of this pension was Col Campbell Slemp, who was the only Virginian republican congressman. Mrs. Mayo’s pension increased from $8 per month to $25. Her husband was Stephen Mayo who fought from 1776 to 1781. She lived in Newberne, Pulaski County, Virginia, and was over 90 years old, helpless, paralyzed and almost entirely deaf. She required the constant help given to her by her daughter, also widowed.

I woke up thinking about textual errors and will re-post this about Jim Webb's BORN FIGHTING.



5 out of 5 stars
Jim Webb and the Philosophical Pharisees--not Philosophical Fairies
ByHershel Parkeron May 3, 2017
Format: Hardcover
|
Verified Purchase
James Webb and the Philosophical Fairies

Now, I have special loving feelings toward James Webb. I elected him to the U. S. Senate with my $100, the only time I have sent money out of state to a political candidate for anything but the highest office. I read and re-read BORN FIGHTING in the little room next to my computer room, understanding, sympathizing, and a very few times envying (the times when he hears stories from his older kinfolks). I know how risky he was in describing Reconstruction, and I sympathize, because I have lived through the fierce self-righteousness of fanatical Political Correctness in the academy. But something seemed wrong on 244--apparently the same page in the hardback and the paperback, if Amazon.com is right--seemed nasty, cheap. Something did not seem to jibe with the Jim Webb I admire:
THE OCCUPIERS, THE POLITICAL REEDUCATORS WHO THIS TIME CALLED THEMSELVES RADICAL RECONSTRUCTIONISTS, THE PHILOSOPHICAL FAIRIES, THE CARPETBAGGER BUSINESSPEOPLE WITH THEIR GRAND PLANS AND SPECIAL DEALS . . . .

Now, my James Webb would never have said "the philosophical fairies."

What James Webb must have written or meant to write was "the philosophical Pharisees." I know exactly what he meant, and he did not mean fairies, folks. He meant Pharisees.

Saturday, October 14, 2017

What was the house with the blue dome is now the house with the copper pyramid (center top) ...

This is from Highway 1, looking east.

Driven by sand-blasting winds from beach to east side of dunes

You can see how winds like this could cause firestorms.

A South Carolina Mystic 1826 or so--not "corrected." Does anyone have the latter part of the will?


I Elizabeth Boyd on seeing & conversing with a spirit from Heaven at sundry times and sundry places. I went to Salem meeting House in Newberry district--to hear one of our Methodist preachers, the House being crowded very much he preached out-of-doors. I set down and leaned against a tree and there came a spirit from heaven to me and laid off the beautiful city upon our land the size of each lott was half an acre, and the price of it such happiness it shewed to me is past telling, this is the first time it came to me and then fled away; the second time it came to me was at the Salluda Camp meeting in august, of the above year. I went in Mr. Enoch Lakes waggon with his wife to the meeting and there came the same spirit to me again as I believed from Heaven, and laid off this beautifull city upon our land, and gave me Noah for a witness as it was in the days of Noah, so also shall it be in the days of the son of man they were eating and drinking, marrying & given to marriage untill the flood came and swept them away, this was the second time it came to me, in two weeks after Saluda Camp Meeting I was down on our land, and sit down upon a piece of splitwood the spirit of the lord came to me again and laid off the beautifull city upon our land and stayed for the space of five minutes & woe to them that violate the law from the going forth of this paper awake up ye backsliding Isarael I pray & pray more faster that you might gain the love of God in your souls awake up ye sinners that ye might repent and be born of the spirit of God or Else never see his face in peace. fourth time the spirit came to me, one day I went down to the milk House and the angel of the lord set on the spring as I believe such a beautifull sight mine Eyes never beheld and the happiness of my soul I cant express and it said to me did I think that god made all those beautifull springs for the sue of one man and it fled away such happiness I felt in my soul I am not able to express at the appearance of the beautifull sight this is the fourth time it came to me great & terrible will be the day of the lord & who will be able to stand in that day, none but the righteous that [never?] violate his law and woe to those that violate or lets those servants violate his law that is to say the laws of God on these premises. Another day I stepped on the edge of the old field, the same spirit came to me from Heaven it said to me so [to?] cut the stoppage out of the Gully to let the filth of the city out & ministers of the Gospel cry aloud to the people, this is five time it came to me and fled away, another day I was sitting a spin[n]ing on the piazza and named to me what it should be called, and it was to be the city of the new Jerusalem & everything thats for the use of mans body is to the city or in the city & that they shall build their houses out of Brick & they all shall be beautiful buildings so that it should excell all the Citys in the world and I shall meet there and all my neighbours would be blest on the account of this great city and that I should be much persecuted for it, for it will be such a place of happiness that they will come to it. and the spirit came to me another time and laid off the spot of ground where the dead should be buried and what manner and way Hell is gapeing & ready to receive souls in that violate the laws of God this spirit commanded me to give it to the ministers of the Gospel if you believe it was a good spirit, cry aloud to the people the Saturday after the New Hope Camp meeting the same spirit came to me and said to me the reason that the flood come on us was because the Camp meeting was not on our land where the spirit chose for god this is the way that this great city is to be begun my nine sons has each a lot round their Fathers spring, each one of the boys is to have a lott half an acre the price is three hundred dollars a lott now I Charge you in the name of God not to sell your lotts because it is a bless of God to me.—In the name of God Amen. I, Elizabeth Boyd of Newberry destrict & state of south Carolina being deeply Impressed with the truth of the foregoing narrative have thought fit and proper to make and ordain the following to be my last will and Testament.

A model apology for all the liars alive--I can think of a president of Duke University in Durham, a chaired professor at Columbia, . . . .


{ Notice } I, do hereby certify that I Charles C. Mclure, last from Tuscumbia and now in the Town of Columbus
Mississippi, have been guilty of uttering the most infamous, hellishly slanderous falsehood against the character
of a portion of the family of Maj. Jesse Weaver, the aforesaid town of Columbus, and also that I have threatened
the Mr. Thomas Morford, and I hereby acknowledge that I felt thankful that I have even a hope of escaping the
just vengeance of said gentleman, with that merited from every honest and good citizen, only of this town, but
that I do deserve the countenance. I acknowledgement to all which I do fix my hand and seal the presence of the
witnesses and thank them that they even consent to sign their names as witnesses against me. C. C. Mclure,
Witnesses, G. W. Sims, John W. Blundell, James Sims, T. R. Norman, W. W. Humphries, C. H. Abert, Erasmus Potts,
W. B. Patterson.


NO ONE APOLOGIZES ANY MORE AFTER LYING ABOUT SOMEONE.

Friday, October 13, 2017

The Rock at Noon

Hazy to the North, where Smoke is Coming Down from the Fires


Gabrielle Zevin's great bookman's rant in THE STORIED LIFE OF A. J. FIKRY



"Like, he repeats with distaste. "How about I tell you what I don't like? I do not like postmodernism, postapocalyptic settings, postmortem narrators, or magic realism. I rarely respond to supposedly clever formal devices, multiple fonts, pictures where they shouldn't be--basically, gimmicks of any kind. I find literary fiction about the Holocaust or any other major world tragedy to be distasteful--nonfiction only, please. I do not like genre mash-ups a la the literary detective novel or the literary fantasy. Literary should be literary, and genre should be genre, and crossbreeding rarely results in anything satisfying. I do not like children's books, especially ones with orphans, and I prefer not to clutter my shelves with young adult. I do not like anything over four hundred pages or under one hundred fifty pages. I am repulsed by ghostwritten novels by reality television stars, celebrity picture books, sports memoirs, movie tie-in editions, novelty items, and--I imagine this goes without saying--vampires. I rarely stock debuts, chick lit, poetry, or translations. I would prefer not to stock series, but the demands of my pocketbook require me to.

Maunderings on a smoky morning

The smoke from Northern California had not touched the area below Big Sur until the last day or two, when the air has become thick. Our air had been bad from the dust for several days, anyhow, from jack-hammers on the house. I feel no effects of the burning of marijuana farms--it's too far away. Anyhow, marijuana fumes are not as bad as cigarette fumes, as I found out at a San Francisco Bob Dylan concert a few years ago. You think what you would grab if you had time to grab anything and were not 100 years old with a 97 year old wife. A 64GB flash drive, I guess. As Depression Okies we had very little in the way of possessions, and I got in the habit of giving away whenever I moved anything that would not go in my 1952 tin suitcase, or the book satchel I hitchhiked with from Port Arthur to NYC. I gave away my 22 pistol one time, and my short wave radio another time. I got out of that habit, and now hundreds of people up north are stripped, whatever their habits. Who pays to level the rubble? And then what? I think a lot now about what keeps you going when you are young despite illnesses that often kill, TB for example. There really is a kind of blind life force that drives you on when you are young and you don't have any idea how pathetic your struggles look to normal people. How resilient can the older refugees be? I'm thinking a lot now about refugees or pioneers, all the European seekers on this continent, those who wore the Great Wagon Road, those who sold out in western NC and started into the mountains with Daniel Boone in 1773 but were turned back (one daughter on a horse in the river carrying a small brother), those who went down the Elk River in flatboats 400-strong then were burned out (and then burned out again) from what became NW Alabama, or the old half Choctaw woman who in the early 1840s, late, harnessed her ox in Yalabusha County, Mississippi, and set out for western Arkansas, and got there, and the Model Ts and Model As that criss-crossed the south and west in the 1920s and 1930s. A lot of us traveled light for a very long time, but we are out of the habit.

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

The Lonesome Death of Charles Henderson, 23 year old shoemaker, 5 ft 6 in, from Orange Co. NC, near Argulus's family


At Fort Stoddert in New Orleans in 1812 he was given 50 lashes for being drunk, and again 10 days at hard labor with his whiskey allotment stopped, then for being drunk on guard 15 days on bread and water with whiskey allotment stopped, then (after some events I don't understand) on 25 April 1813 he died, there in New Orleans.
Was he one of ours?

60 degrees, 82 years

Early--8:30--another day in paradise

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

We hate it when we can't understand why anyone would think Jeeves & Wooster funny


We tried last night, all ready with 2 discs and several episodes, set to enjoy a great British comedy. We found it so vulgar and stupid that we felt demeaned by 15 minutes and shipped the discs back to Netflix. I know there is nothing wrong with our sense of humor. After all, I laughed and laughed just today at Tim Murphy, the Pennsylvania congressman, on the basis of the snippets in Facebook. If I had been a watcher of news on TV I am sure I would have laughed even louder. I have a great sense of humor. But the people in Jeeves and Wooster just reminded me of how Britain did everything possible, before Churchill came in, to make it easy for Hitler. THIS is what the British were doing in the 20s and 30s. I get it now. But I don't get why the British liked the series. Why, there was not even a fat man dressed as a woman in the first fifteen minutes, unless the aunt was a man. Maybe we did miss it all at that.

Can traits like stubbornness be inherited? When one's mother was called "Bullhead Costner" and a grandfather on the other side of the family acts like this . . . .

The remarkable rise in White River in September 1824 was probably the greatest flood in this stream during the l9th century. The torrential rain storms that produced this freshet were so frequent that the hunters were driven from the forest and sought shelter in their cabins. Allin Trimble son of Bill Trimble said that he was 9 years old when this high water swept over the bottoms. At the time of its occurrence he was living with his grandfather Buck Coker. Also two other grand sons were staying with him at the time. These were "Prairie" Bill and Herrod Coker, sons of Joe Coker. Jesse Yocum son in law of Cokers was also there and when the waters began to threaten to reach the top of the bank Coker sent them all to higher ground, but Coker himself refused to go with them. The family thinking he would be willing to vacate the house when the water rose higher rested easy about him until the waters surrounded the cabin. There was no canoe available but Jess Yocum owned a fine horse he called Paddy that was a renowned swimmer. They owned other horses but Paddy was the best swimmer in the bunch. As the raging flood of water spread over the bottom Yocum swam his horse twice to the Coker dwelling and back to try to induce his father in law to leave the house but he declined. The river continued to rise rapidly and was becoming deeper every hour between the house and the hill. The family were alarmed for the safety of him and his son in law made the third trip back to the cabin to make a last effort to persuade Mr. Coker to vacate the dwelling. The raging waters had rose to the level of the floor. Driftwood was riding over the cane and lodging against the trees in the bottom. This last trip for Yocum and his faithful animal was hazardous for the current was growing swifter and deeper. When Yocum reached the house he informed his obstinate father in law that this was his last trip to try to rescue him for the current was getting to be too swift and deep to make an attempt to come back again and if he intended to leave the house at all now was the time and the old man looked at his son in law as he sat on his beautiful but wearied horse as he stood in the water over knee deep. He seemed to admire the man and appreciated his untiring energy in braving the strong and muddy current in an effort to save his life, then he cast his eyes over the great expanse of seething and foaming water that was spreading from hill to hill and then glancing his eyes once more toward his son in law he gave his consent to go and Yocum took him up behind him and reining the horses head around toward camp the horse started with his double weight and was soon in deep water but the true and ever faithful horse carried both men safely to shore. The highest stage of water reached the door head of the cabin before the flood began to subside. The family used graters to make meal for bread and after the great tide of water had spread over the field where there was a small crop of corn Mr. Cokers plucky grandsons "Prairie" Bill and his brother Herrod would ride their horses into the water where the corn was and gather the ears of corn to grate. It was interesting and certainly dangerous work for the boys to swim their horses around over the field and reach down into the water and feel for the corn and pull it off of the stock."

Scoff-laws in No-Dog area

Monday, October 2, 2017

Some of us have every right to be obsessed with dissolution. But Tom Petty just now, at 66?

"An "insignificant" amount of oil spilled



Local News | SanLuisObispo.com & The Tribune
www.sanluisobispo.com/news/local/

A small amount of oil washed up on the shore at Morro Rock Beach on Saturday ... Beach on Saturday, September 30, 2017, stemming from the flushing of two decommissioned oil transfer pipelines. ...

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Before being corrected, the TABLET in 2012 said Trilling, Levin, Edel, Parker, and Kazin had been exceedingly old before dying

2012 when THE TABLET SAID I WAS NOT ONLY ANCIENT BUT DEAD
THE TABLET
M.H. Abrams, 2009.(Dale R. Corson)
M.H. Abrams, the distinguished literary critic, died April 22, at age 102. This appraisal of the man and his work by Tablet’s Adam Kirsch originally appeared on July 11, 2012, on the occasion of M.H. Abrams’ 100th birthday. 
***
When Henry James paid a visit to his native country in 1905, after decades living in Europe, he was struck with a kind of pious horror by the spectacle he found on the Lower East Side of New York City. As a novelist, James was bothered most of all by his fear of what these “swarming” Jews would mean for the future of the English language in America. Visiting Yiddish caf├ęs, he saw them “as torture-rooms of the living idiom; the piteous gasp of which at the portent of lacerations to come could reach me in any drop of the surrounding Accent of the Future.” To James, the English language and English literature were the inalienable possession of the Anglo-Saxon race—a common feeling that persisted long after James wrote. As late as the 1930s, while Jews made up more than their share of Ivy League students—and would have been even more overrepresented if not for quotas—they were still virtually absent from the English faculty.
Then, almost overnight, everything changed. Starting in the postwar years, anti-Semitism became intellectually unrespectable, thanks to its association with Nazism and the Holocaust, while the flood of new students entering the universities under the G.I. Bill meant that there was an urgent need for new faculty. Jewish professors, critics, and scholars were newly acceptable—Lionel Trilling studied Arnold at Columbia, and Harry Levin studied Joyce at Harvard. Leon Edel wrote the biography of Henry James, and Hershel Parker wrote the biography of Melville. Alfred Kazin recovered the history of the American novel in On Native Grounds, a title whose defiant claim could not be missed.

Beautiful, warm day. Crowds thinning by 10:30 a.m.

Seal coat looked better yesterday