My feelings about the events of yesterday remind me that I’m coming up on the fifth year anniversary of my return to the states after my 3-year stay in Brussels. It hardly seems possible as I feel it was just yesterday I was admiring the biennial flower carpet in the Grand Place.
Four months ago I scrambled for news that friends in Paris were safe after the November attacks. Today I repeated the now-too-frequent scurry for information, this time friends and former colleagues in Brussels. In both cases all were fine. My heart then turned to those whom I’ve never met but instantaneously became close to on these fateful days.
Brussels is a beautiful city. In some ways it’s typical of old European cities with its central plaza (the Grand Place), impressive cathedrals, and amazing architecture. In other ways it is supremely atypical. As both the capital of Belgium and the capital of the European Union, the city has the aura of Washington, DC with its international flavor and populace. Away from the old city sits the EU quarter, glass skyscraping office buildings replacing the ancient mix of Gothic, Baroque, and Louis XIV edifices. Like DC, the city features the embassies of virtually every foreign nation. Even Belgians are multinational, with three official languages reflecting its Dutch, French, and German heritages.
I have fond memories of the city, the people, and my former colleagues. I have the urge to see them again, and so will put a return trip on my busy travel calendar. For now, my feelings for the events of yesterday are best represented by one of Brussels’s most iconic landmarks, the Manneken Pis.
This past weekend I attended a fascinating day at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, DC, where the Abraham Lincoln Institute held its annual full-day symposium, “The Life and Legacy of Abraham Lincoln.” Little did I expect to hear Lincoln’s advertisement as a slave, with “no other marks or brands recollected.”
Taking place on the stage where John Wilkes Booth boldly declared Sic Semper Tyrannis after assassinating our 16th President, Ford’s Theatre was both a somber and appropriate venue for the symposium. This year the speakers were Sidney Blumenthal, Edna Greene Medford, Louis P. Masur, Stacy Pratt McDermott, and Thomas L. Carson. All were fantastic speakers who discoursed on various aspects of Lincoln’s (and Mary’s) life.
Among the gems of the day was mention by Sidney Blumenthal of a description Lincoln provided to journalist Jesse Fell in late 1859 when Lincoln was preparing to run for president. One portion of the bio says:
If any personal description of me is thought desirable, it may be said, I am, in height, six feet, four inches, nearly; lean in flesh, weighing, on an average, one hundred and eighty pounds; dark complexion, with coarse black hair, and grey eyes—no other marks or brands recollected.
I’ve read this passage many times over the years and yet never made the connection Blumenthal raised, that is, that this is not unlike the kind of newspaper advertisement seen when slave owners were searching for fugitive slaves. It reads like a spec-sheet: height, weight, skin complexion, hair and eye color, and presence or absence of other identifying marks. All the information needed to hunt down human beings attempting to escape from two hundred and fifty years of bondage.
During the break I spoke with Blumenthal (as well as his main source for the passage, eminent historian Michael Burlingame). I thanked him for bringing to light something that seems obvious now that it has been said overtly. Lincoln was, in his own clever way, bringing the role of slavery into the race for the presidency, a race that would pit the new Republican party against a history of racism and pro-slavery sentiment. A race that would, ironically, result in the end of slavery as it existed.
No other marks or brands recollected. The phrase shivers under this cold beam of light.
More on the Symposium can be found here. And the C-SPAN video of Sidney Blumenthal can be seen here: Sidney Blumenthal.
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This book is much more substantive than the colorful cover featuring a Lincoln bobblehead doll might suggest. It starts out light enough, with chapters cataloging various ways Abraham Lincoln is “sold” to the modern public. These include how Lincoln has been adopted by both current political parties, does brisk sales in memorabilia and museum visits (even if much on display is reproduction), and gets featured in a variety of sales pitches. But the book also delves into more scholarly questions such as how Lincoln is presented to the public. Hogan suggests this is mostly as a positive “boy scout” model who rose from meager beginnings to epitomize the American dream while his more negative attributes are ignored.
And she does seem to have some negative opinions. Perhaps because of her background in gender and race studies (she is a sociologist, not a Lincoln scholar), she at times appears to give undue weight to fringe opinions. For example, she laments that opinions on Lincoln’s “racial bigotry” and “suggestions of homosexuality” are largely ignored in biographies and museum displays. While she acknowledges that most public facilities have competing pressures for what they display, she disregards the main reason they are not highlighted; because scholarship tells us they are not supported by the facts.
This particular bias and some other more superficial understanding of Lincoln scholarship, however, should not dissuade people from reading the book. Each chapter ends with a section headed “An Outsider’s Perspective.” It is in these sections that Hogan most adeptly employs her sociologist perspective. Many of her insights, which Lincoln scholars may or may not always agree with, offer up substantive topics for debate that are highly worthwhile.
The book gives us a closer look not only at how we view Lincoln but in how those views reflect our desire to elevate him as an icon of the American Dream. He started low and ended high, as we all would like to believe can be achieved through hard work. This view can be inspiring, but as Hogan notes, can also set unreasonable standards not reflected by modern reality.
A short book (157 pages of text), it nonetheless has extensive endnotes (though most are to published biographies rather than primary literature). An interesting read.
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This particular Serbia trip was too good to pass up. Organized by famed Eurocircle travel guru Sherry Kumar in conjunction with an international Tesla Conference , the trip will take us to three countries and a cocktail party with royalty.
Yup, royalty. After a day of touring around Belgrade we’ll change into formal attire for an evening reception at the Royal Palace with HRH Prince Alexander and HRH Princess Katherine of Serbia. We’ll also get a tour of the royal palace.
While in Belgrade we’ll also visit the Nikola Tesla Museum, whose director I met here in the U.S. some time ago. Since I didn’t have a chance to visit the Museum itself prior to publishing my book, Tesla: The Wizard of Electricity, I’m eager for this chance. We’ll even have dinner in the Bohemian quarter.
After Belgrade we’ll head to Montenegro, where we’ll have a chance to see the historic environs of Tivat and the island of Sveti Stefan on the Adriatic Sea, plus travel to see Kotor (photo above), Cetinje, and Lovcen. If that wasn’t enough, we’ll check out the Blue Cave.
The last few days will be spent in famed Dubrovnik, Croatia.
I’ll have a lot more information before and after the trip, which we’ll do in July, but to give you a feel for what we’ll see, check out these cool videos.
It should be an exciting trip. We still have to work out flights into Belgrade and out of Dubrovnik, but the deposit is down and we’re committed to visiting a part of the world I haven’t seen yet.
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[Photo of HRH Prince Alexander and HRH Princess Katherine by By Holger Motzkau 2010, Wikipedia/Wikimedia Commons (cc-by-sa-3.0)]
Everyone knows everything there is to know about Thomas Edison, right? Not so fast. While writing my book on Nikola Tesla I found tons of unknowns about him (see 5 Things You Didn’t Know about Nikola Tesla), and now that I’ve written a book on Thomas Edison I’ve discovered so much about him that likely you didn’t know. Here’s a sample:
Edison was mostly deaf: Edison started losing his hearing at an early age, probably around the time he was working on the railroads as a news butch. The exact cause is a mystery (even Edison had two different versions), but he says it allowed him to ignore the chitchat of people around him and focus on his work.
He had two wives: And six kids. No, he wasn’t a bigamist. His first wife died very young after they had three children, then he married another young woman who gave him three more. Since he often worked 20 hour days and slept on a lab bench, it’s a wonder he found the time for intimacy at all.
His biggest achievement was also his greatest failure: Edison had cornered the market on electricity distribution. He was wiring up New York City from his Pearl Street Power Plant and putting electric lights into the houses of the richest of the rich. Unfortunately it was all DC power and when Nikola Tesla and George Westinghouse came along with AC power, well, Edison lost the war of the currents and got tossed from the company he started (we know it today as General Electric).
He invented concrete houses: After 10 years trying to make a go of mining low grade iron ore, Edison turned to making houses out of concrete. The whole thing – including bathtubs, sinks, and stairs – could be built by pouring concrete into prebuilt molds. If you look hard enough, you might find one still standing.
Edison was an avid writer: For a man who was tossed out of elementary school because he was “addled,” Edison became both an avid reader and writer. He wrote (and published) a mobile newspaper as a teenager, wrote technical articles, and started a textbook on telegraphy. But his most mysterious writing was a science fiction novel. Yes, complete with Amazons and Antarctic expeditions, and of course, strange ethereal electrical forces.
There is much more about Edison that most people would find surprising, and I cover them all in my new book coming out July 2016 from Fall River Press, Edison: The Inventor of the Modern World. I’ll share the cover design with you all soon.
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You might guess that Tenerife would be a warm place given that it is part of the Canary Island group sitting off the southernmost coast of Morocco in the eastern Atlantic Ocean. And you would be right, but not completely right. Tenerife is approximately the same latitude as Orlando, Florida, but unlike Orlando, the island goes from sea level to 12,198 feet in altitude.
A few years ago I experienced both extremes within a matter of hours on the same day. After barely escaping Brussels in a snowstorm and spending a sub-freezing Christmas eve in Madrid, I arrived in Tenerife North Airport (site of the worst airline disaster in history, the 1977 runway collision between two 747s that killed 583 people). Luckily, no drama for my arrival.
The initial wave of high heat and humidity was a welcome change from the dreary winter I had left behind. There were many cacti, but also a wide variety of subtropical trees and plants. Loro Parque, a combination zoo, aquarium, and botanical garden, was like walking into a jungle and reef all in one. As the name suggests, the parrot collection alone is the largest in the world. The number of orchids was astounding, as I talked about in this earlier post. We even met a gorilla.
After building up a good sweat, it was time to head to the highlands. More specifically, it was time to drive up the winding roads to the summit of El Teide in Teide National Park. This snow-capped volcano is the highest point in all of Spain (the Canary Islands are Spanish possessions), not to mention the highest in all the Atlantic Ocean islands and the third largest volcano in the world.
The twisting roads for this trip are a topic deserving of their own post, but eventually you get to a spot where you can park and board a cable car up to just below the summit, at 11,663 feet. From there you can hike to the top, though on the day we were there the snow and ice was considered too dangerous and park officials banned hikers for the last section. The views were amazing, as was the cold.
From there we wound our way back down and continued our drive around the island. From heat and humid to cold and ice and now back to the rocky beaches. Definitely a day to remember.
Of course, that was just the beginning. I’ll have more on the science of Tenerife, and even some parasailing, in future installments.
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It seems I have to make a choice. The plan was to go to Machu Picchu in the Peruvian Andes in May. I even wrote a post last month, Preparing for Machu Picchu, in which I compared the area to a previous trip I made to the Argentinian Andes.
I admit I’ve been lax in following through on those preparations, some of which must be made sufficiently in advance to ensure getting in the queue. May is getting very close and arrangements are still not set.
And now a complication. The Tesla Science Foundation is planning a conference for July in Belgrade, Serbia. Attached to the conference is a 9-day trip that includes Belgrade (with a private reception with the reigning Prince and Princess), Montenegro, and Dubrovnik. I’ve always wanted to get to Serbia, and especially to the Nikola Tesla Museum in Belgrade, a place that I’ve held dear since the release of my book, Tesla: The Wizard of Electricity.
Logistically I can’t do both this year. Which sets up a choice. Given my dearth of organization for Peru I’m thinking that trip might best be put off until next year, and with the extra time to prepare, possibly expanded to include Lake Titicaca, northern Argentina, and Iguazu Falls. The Serbian trip would take less preparation on my part because it’s being planned by a highly skilled tour planner that also just happens to be a key player in the Tesla Science Foundation.
So this week is the time to decide all of this. I’ll let you know what happens.
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Only one major bit of science traveling so far this year (more on that below), but it’s been a busy period nonetheless. Here’s a quick catch up around the blogs.
Hot White Snow: My more “creative” writing, responses to writing prompts, some memoir-ish works, and articles “On Writing.”
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On my recent sailing cruise to the Caribbean I spent time on seven islands, six of which have volcanic origins and have mountainous geographies. Barbuda is the exception. The first feature that makes it stand out from the rest is that it is flat. So flat that the one tiny point on it that stands 125 feet above sea level is called the “highlands.”
Part of the twin-island country of Antigua and Barbuda, there isn’t much to see beyond its flatness. Only about 1600 people live here, with at least two-thirds of those living in the main town of Codrington, named after the former slave owners who maintained a “slave nursery” in the 1700 (slavery was finally outlawed in 1834). Tourists who wander here in small ships can view the Martello Tower, all that remains of an old fort, and stroll on the miles of pink sand beach.
But we were here for the frigate birds.
Barbuda hosts one of the most accessible frigate bird sanctuaries in the world. Speed boating across the flat lagoon from Codrington gets you to a low-lying area inhabited by over 5000 frigate birds. As you approach, hundreds of these huge birds – wingspans can reach up to 7 feet or more – fill the skies.
So many birds that they crowd the available branches.
Unlike most seabirds, frigates don’t ever land in the sea. With the largest wing-area-to-body-weight ratio of any bird, along with the characteristic “W” shape of their wingspread and long forked tails, they can remain aloft for hours. With only minimal oil produced to protect their feathers from getting waterlogged, they aren’t built for swimming. Even walking is problematic, which is why they flop down into the nearest low branches when they need to rest. The reduced webbing on their feet frees up the end of their toes, just enough to hang on to the branches.
As the photos show, the females are larger than the males and have whiter underbellies. Juveniles remain all white for some time, taking up to eight to eleven years to reach sexual maturity. Males are all black but have the most distinct feature – a red gular pouch.
The brilliantly scarlet throat pouch can be inflated by the male to attract females during the mating season, which is pretty much all year long. Once inflated it takes a while to deflate, so you’ll see a lot of red pouches even when the male is finished his display. Most often the males sit in the branches, turn their beaks skyward, and vibrate their bills to make a drumming sound in an effort to lure the females flying overhead. If startled, the males may fly off with their pouches still inflated. Females do the choosing of mate, signifying her choice by engaging in mutual “head-snaking” and allowing the male to take her bill in his. Females lay only one egg at a time and both parents take turns incubating it for up to 55 days, after which they feed the young for many months (though the male usually becomes bored after about 3 months and wanders off). Because young frigates take so long to mature, females may breed only once every two years.
As I made my way back to the ship I couldn’t help wondering what impacts climate change would have on Barbuda in all its flatness. The Union of Concerned Scientists suggests that Barbuda is in grave danger from rising sea levels and ocean acidification. Estimate sea level increase of between 2.6 to 6.6 feet would swamp this tiny island, while changes in weather patterns could decrease the availability of fresh water and enhance the extremity of the periodic hurricanes that plague these islands. Clearly there is a dire need to take action.
Future impacts on the frigate bird sanctuary are unclear. The particular species seen on Barbuda is Fregata magnificens, the Magificent Frigatebird. It would be a shame to see such magnificence perish from the earth.
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot
This is the story of Henrietta Lacks, her HeLa cells, and her family’s struggle to learn about their long dead mother. It’s also a detective story, a story of medical conduct, a story of Jim Crow, a story of modern and historical psychology, a story of ethics, and a story of religious faith. It is even a love story. It is all of these things, and Rebecca Skloot has successfully merged them into one of the most fascinating books I’ve read in many years.
Until recently few knew about Henrietta Lacks the person, though cell culture researchers have known of the HeLa cell line for many decades. Taken from the cervical cancer that killed Henrietta in 1951, HeLa cells have become immortal, living in test tubes and freezers in the billions even now, more than 60 years after Henrietta’s death. Growing like the cancer they derived from, HeLa cells have been used to develop treatments for many diseases, but also have contaminated virtually ever other cell line that has been attempted. This book traces the history of the cells, their benefits, and the ethical questions that arose because of their use without the knowledge of anyone in Henrietta’s family.
But even more than that, this is a book about the struggle of Henrietta’s descendants to learn about the mother they never knew. A poor African-American family that has gone through many trials must now take on the trials of seeking out answers. At times breathtakingly sad, the story can at other times have you cheering for Henrietta’s youngest daughter Deborah and her extended family.
I highly recommend this book. Scientists will find the medical story captivating, both for the thrill of its discoveries and the questions raised about informed consent. Non-scientists should also be enthralled with the medical story, but will also see the broader questions of segregation, poverty, family, religious belief, and the sometimes expansive divide between scientists and the public.
Skloot’s writing is stellar. She easily conveys the medical and technical material in language everyone can understand. She is equally adept in communicating the depth of emotion and confusion and anger of Henrietta’s family.
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