"The Wreck of the William Brown" by Tom Koch

In the early spring of 1841, just 71 years before the RMS Titanic would be sunk by an iceberg while crossing the Atlantic, another, similar tragedy occurred. The William Brown, a passenger vessel bound for Philadelphia, with her sails rigged for full speed, hit an ice field and sank. The Brown, like the later Titanic, was woefully unprepared for the disaster, which resulted in an unnecessary loss of life. But, in spite of these similarities, there was one big difference in these two events.

For the most part, aboard the Titanic, chivalry was evident at every turn, as crew members, and passengers alike, held fast to the code of the sea. Women and children were first, and husbands parted with great honor from their spouses, giving up their own chance at survival so that others might live. As I said, this story is quite different.

It is the story of people, gripped in fear, and the lengths with which they will go, in order to save themselves, at the expense of others. When the ship, loaded with newly bound immigrants for America, was about to sink, the longboat, and another small craft, were both launched. The one with the captain aboard was adequately manned and loaded to it's near capacity. The other boat, a longboat with no rudder to steer with, was overcrowded and staffed with the first mate and some deck hands. The passengers consisted of able bodied men, as well as women and children.

The captain left them in the charge of the first mate, with orders to "do what must be done" in order to save his boat. The captain then set course for Newfoundland, leaving the smaller stricken vessel to it's fate. And what a fate it was!

This chart shows the close proximity in which the Titanic would sink 71 years later, almost to the day, and only 8 and a half miles apart. And in the ensuing years, nothing had changed much in the way of passenger safety,and traveling the North Atlantic in early spring was still a treacherous journey, at best. Though much had changed regarding the way men and women interacted, thanks largely to the Victorian Era, this journey took place before that, and so had a much different conclusion.

During the very first night adrift, in full view of the other passengers, crew members, acting upon the "orders" of the first mate, selected men to throw overboard into the frigid waters in an effort to "lighten the load." When two women cried out that they "didn't know if we can go on without our dear brother", they were summarily tossed in after the hapless man. All the while, the other passengers tried to "look small", and "attract no notice", lest they be next.

When the morning came and a ship appeared on the horizon, the killing continued, with at least two more men being thrown overboard. This was at a time when, not only was rescue imminent, but the boat was stable and in no danger.

A French Court found the actions justifiable, while the American Court found the actions of the crew, and notably the first mate, to be unworthy of seamen. He was tried in Philadelphia for Murder Upon the High Seas.

This book was a chilling look at, not only a failed social order, but a justice system more concerned with the profits of international trade than passenger safety. Their lack of oversight and initiative would come back to haunt us all, in the form of the Titanic tragedy, 71 years and 8 miles later.

Monopoly, Jesus and Islam

This card was from my Mom's old Monopoly set, the original one, copyright 1936, look at it closely. It promises me that I can use this card, within the confines of the game, of course, to get out of jail without paying any further penalty. It is forthright, and honest in touting it's limited powers.


This card was given to me at a rest stop in South Carolina the other day. I suppose alot of folks shop for religion at rest stops, though I'm not sure why. Anyway, pay attention to the writing. Now, I know what the card is supposed to mean, but being the type who likes to parse words, this one gives me a problem. It says that if I meet you and forget you, I lose nothing. True enough. It then goes on to say that when I die, at which point I presumably lose all, and then meet Jesus, and then turn away from him, I will lose everything. Now, maybe it's just me, but, in theory, having already died there is not much else that I would have to lose. I think I will stick with my Mom's card for the present.

Now, you all know this is tongue in cheek, and not meant to offend anybody, either Christian, or Monopolists. But, considering the recent events in the Middle East, with specific regards to the violence attending any humorists depictions of Prophets, as well as the burning of a Quran, I do feel the need to say thank you for your indulgence, as well as having a sense a humor.

"Whatever Works" with Evan Rachel Wood, Larry David, and Ed Begley, Jr.

Genius writing, along with genius acting, make for a wonderful film experience in this 2009 Woody Allen comedy. This is one of his best films ever, stepping back behind the camera to write and direct, which is what he has always done best. And using Larry David in the role which Mr. Allen had originally intended for Zero Mostel, makes the movie all that much better.(The script was begun with Mostel in mind, but shelved after Mr. Mostel's death in 1977.)

The character of Boris Yellinkoff, played by Larry David, is the main vehicle for this story, and employing the old technique of having him talk directly to the audience, even as the "live" action of the film continues to roll, makes this a very comical, and unusual, film experience.

Boris begins his tale of Doom and Gloom, meeting daily with his friends for coffee, after having failed at a suicide attempt, and losing his wife to divorce. He has given up on everything. He is a bitter old man. That is, until he comes home one evening and finds Melodie St. Ann Celestine, played by Evan Rachel Wood, sitting in the alley by his stairwell.

Boris is kind of like many middle aged men, ranting at the changes in society, and bemoaning the lost years of his earlier life. He is cynical to a fault, and finds himself at odds with those who cannot see the truth, as defined by Boris. Basically, he believes in nothing. We know all of this because Boris never stops talking, even to the audience, as he narrates the story.

Here is a typical quote, "My father committed suicide because the morning newspapers depressed him. And could you blame him? With the horror, and corruption, and ignorance, and poverty, and genocide, and AIDS, and global warming, and terrorism, and the family value morons, and the gun morons. "The horror," Kurtz said at the end of Heart of Darkness; "the horror." Lucky Kurtz didn't have the Times delivered in the jungle."

Prior to the arrival of Melodie in his life, Boris had been a Professor of Quantum Mechanics at Columbia University. He was an expert in the "string" theory. At one point he attempted suicide by jumping out the window of his apartment, only to land on the front lobby canopy, resulting in a permanent limp. He then divorces his wife, quits his job, gives up their beautiful apartment, and takes a back alley dive as his residence.

So, when Melodie Ann shows up, he is immediately skeptical of her motives, and her story. But, a human being is a human being, so Boris takes her in, setting off an intellectual dilemma as he begins to turn her world views into his own cynical interpretation of life. Will that cynicism take root? Or will young Melodie's air of confidence serve to help them both find their individual ways?

When Melodie's eccentric and strange mother, Marietta, played by Patricia Clarkson, shows up, things get even stranger. And Boris' friends can't believe the change in Boris.

But complications arise, as they always do, and Boris, formerly a difficult and misunderstood man, seems to change. I won't tell you what happens between him and Melodie. You need to watch the film to find out. But here are two lines, including the last one from the film, that I hope will inspire you to see this movie.

Boris Yellnikoff: Love, despite what they tell you, does not conquer all, nor does it even usually last. In the end the romantic aspirations of our youth are reduced to, whatever works.

Boris Yellnikoff: See, I'm the only one who sees the whole picture. That's what they mean by genius.

"Secret Lives of the First Ladies" by Cormac O'Brien

A very unusual collection of stories about the First Ladies, told in chronological order, this book is a terrific insight into the history that we never learned in school. The job of being First Lady is an arduous task, and at times, thankless. But at other times it can be a most rewarding position that allows some input into the affairs, and history, of our country.

Beginning with Martha Washington, who, as the first "First Lady", set the tone for all of the First Ladies to come, this book makes you realize that the story of the "Father of Our Country", without any mention of Martha,is one that is only half told. And that truth is evident throughout this book.

Originally Martha Washington was referred to as "Lady" Washington, a title that would define all the First Ladies until Dolley Madison, who had held sway over Washington during the Presidency of not only her own husband, James Madison, but also that of Thomas Jefferson as well. (He was widowed.) When she passed away in 1849 she was lauded as the nation's "First" Lady, and that designation became the basis for today's title.

And so it goes with the rest of this book, all the way through to Michelle Obama. These women were really quite remarkable, especially the earlier First Ladies, who often lacked the formal education and schooling of their husbands. Each woman who has occupied the position has contributed something admirable, or noteworthy, to our collective history. And so often, these contributions have been overlooked.

Our earliest President's had some of the most interesting wives, women who were sometimes raised on the frontier, as well as women who were the product of great wealth.

The author does a credible job at both enlightening the reader on the accomplishments, as well as the eccentricties, of this select group. Of course the book is filled with all kinds of trivia, which makes it all a bit more fun, but the real story is the role that these women have played in shaping this slightly crazy and unique country that we call home.

"Joe Gould's Secret" with Ian Holm and Stanley Tucci

This is the wonderful story of both Joe Gould (Ian Holm) and Joseph Mitchell (Stanley Tucci). While the former was a noted street person of New York's Greenwich Village back in it's real Bohemian days, the latter was a former newspaper reporter for the Morning World, the Herald Tribune, and the World-Telegram, eventually landing at The New Yorker as a feature writer, with an emphasis on eccentric people in New York City. But, beneath their superficial differences, these two men were both really the same.

Joe Gould, with his superior intellect and intelligence, did not fit in with the world in which he lived. He was educated, and on occassion, could be most charming. But his usual modus operandi was to roam about the city, ranting and raving about the "aural/oral History" that he was writing. This history was to be comprised of the everyday conversations of the people with which Mr. Gould found himself interacting with during the course of his daily rounds to his usual haunts. He claimed that these conversations held more insight into the human condition than all the history books combined. And, in a way, he was right. A quick look at Studs Terkel's books, especially "Working" and "The Good War", which are both "oral histories", lends creedence to this.

Mr. Gould's play on words notwithstanding, the "aural/oral" histories are both pretty much in the same genre. One is an overheard conversation (aural), while the other is a person speaking, either in answer to a question posed, or just telling their own story (oral). Both are valid, and insightful forms of history, and highly enjoyable for the reader.

Joseph Mitchell also felt disconnected from the world into which he was born. Born to Averette and Elizabeth Mitchell, who were cotton and tobacco traders in North Carolina, and whose income would help support the younger Mitchell throughout his life, even while working at The New Yorker, he never felt at home there. After moving to New York in the 1920's, he married photographer Therese Jacobsen in 1931, and they would remain together for the rest of their lives. They had two daughters, Nora and Elizabeth. Mrs. Mitchell passed away in 1980,and Mr. Mitchell passed away in 1996.

The film follows Mr. Mitchell as he embarks on a journey through New York in the 1940's, a time during which Allen Ginsberg was writing "Howl", and the McCourt Brothers were beginning their individual migrations to America. It was a time of coffee houses and poetry readings, beatniks and jazz.

Fascinated by Joe Gould's intellect, as well as his way of making a living, Mr. Mitchell follows him to every party, poetry reading and failed interview. Along the way Mr. Gould solicits money for "The Joe Gould Fund", which is supposed to be a contribution towards the publication of his "Aural History", but which everyone knows is just money for Mr. Gould to eat and drink with.

The real meat of this movie is in the similarities that draw these two vastly different men together. Eventually, after trying to get a look at the written portions of the "Aural History", Mr. Mitchell finds that there is no such thing. It is all a product of Mr. Gould's slightly skewed imagination. But Mr. Mitchell keeps the secret, and the legend, alive, going so far as to help others as they continue to search for the history, which he knows does not exist.

With standout performances by both Ian Holms' as Joe Gould, and Stanley Tucci as Joseph Mitchell, this film captures the essence of a very special place and time in New York. The costume designs, sets and scenery are all superb, creating a flawless background to this unique, and true sory.

David Streitfeld, a writer for the Washington Post, quoted Mr. Mitchell in Newsday, August 27th, 1992 as having said of his strange obsession with Mr. Gould; "You pick someone so close that, in fact, you are writing about yourself. Joe Gould had to leave home because he didn't fit in, the same way I had to leave home because I didn't fit in. Talking to Joe Gould all those years, he became me in a way, if you see what I mean."

I do, Mr. Mitchell, and I believe that so many others feel the same way. Remember that Thomas Wolfe, another great writer from North Carolina, once wrote, "You Can't Go Home Again." And, in an uncanny sense of irony, this film serves to drive that point home.

Guest Columnist: George Copna "Aboard the Cartigan in Panama City- 1962"

The following is another story from the long career of the USCG Cutter Cartigan, formerly moored in Brooklyn's Sheepshead Bay. George Copna, who was a Radioman 2nd Class aboard the Cartigan, has been providing me with some stories and photos of the ship which I am only too happy to post here. This is the latest from Mr. Copna, the illustration is one he previously sent, and which I could not make fit into the last post. It is actually an artist's portrayal of the so-called "buck and a quarter's", a class of cutters so named for their tonnage, which was 125 tons displacement. It is also one of Mr. Copna's favorites illustrations. Here is his story;

Panama City, not to be confused with Panama City Beach, in the 1960's was a "hopping" tourist town. There were, and still are, two major marinas in the city. One was in the downtown area and the other was in the St. Andrew's area, which is where we moored, starboard side to!

During the summer months there was always a good deal of foot traffic on the marina, especially when a large ship was underway in the area. It so happened one summer day that we were coming in to moor after a day of drills. The Captain allowed the XO to conn the ship and bring her in to moor. I should mention at this point that the 'Cartigan' seemed to have a re-enforced bow and was once used to break ice up north in a river for a period of time. As usual, we were drawing a crowd of tourists and they were gathered about 25 yards from the end of the dock.

I was RM2 at the time and my special sea detail billet was as sound powered phone talker on the bridge so I had a ring side seat for what was to come. Apparently, the XO brought the ship in a little too fast and at too steep of an angle and she got away from him. We soundly impacted the end of the concrete marina, the bow riding four to five feet up high, severing a large water line and creating a large geyser of water and chunks of concrete. This in turn sent the observers scurrying for cover, for which there was none, and the captain into shock. The XO maintained his cool, backed her down and tried it again, this time successfully. The bridge gang all had to muffle our collective laughter because it was indeed a sight to see. The only damage done was to the marina facility and the XO's pride. The saga continues!

I hope you like this, because it is true to the best of my memory and it is published in a book about the Coast Guard here in Panama City.

I saw this ship almost daily in Brooklyn for several years. I actually used to go out of my way to see her, never thinking that I would one day be corresponding with one of the many men who sailed her. My conclussion? Sometimes things just work out that way...

Red Jacket's Speech on Religion - 1805

The following is the full text of a speech which was given by Seneca Chief Sagoyewatha, who was born around 1757 and died in 1830 in Buffalo, New York. He was later re-interred, despite his wish that "no white man dig me up for re-burial." His nickname of Red Jacket came from his alliance with the British against the Colonists during the American Revolution, during which time he took to wearing the coat of a British Officer.

This speech was made before a Council of Confederated Chiefs after they had heard from a white missionary who had arrived and begun to preach to the Natives. I had never heard this speech before, I ran across it in the library today. There is a whole wealth of information about Red Jacket on-line. Wikipedia is always a good place to start, so here's a link to that, followed by the full text of the speech itself. It is majestic.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Jacket

Friend and Brother, It was the will of the Great Spirit that we should meet together this day. He orders all things and has given us a fine day for our council. He has taken his garment from before the sun, and caused it to shine with brightness upon us. Our eyes are opened, that we see clearly; our ears are unstopped, that we have been able to hear distinctly the words you have spoken. For all these favors we thank the Great Spirit; and him only.

Brother, This council fire was kindled by you. It was at your request that we came together at this time. We have listened with attention to what you have said. You requested us to speak our minds freely. This gives us great joy; for we now consider that we stand upright before you, and can speak what we think. All have heard your voice, and all speak to you now as one man. Our minds are agreed.

Brother, You say you want an answer to your talk before you leave this place. It is right you should have one, as you are a great distance from home, and we do not wish to detain you. But we will first look back a little, and tell you what our fathers have told us, and what we have heard from the white people.*

Brother, Listen to what we say. There was a time when our forefathers owned this great island. Their seats extended from the rising to the setting of the sun. The Great Spirit had made for the use of the Indians. He had created the buffalo, the deer, and other animals for food. He'd made the bear and the deer, and their skins served us for clothing. He had scattered them over the country, and had taught us how to take them. He had caused the earth to produce corn for bread. All this He had done for his red children, because He loved them. If we had any disputes about hunting grounds, they were generally settled without the shedding of much blood.

But an evil day came upon us. Your forefathers crossed the great waters and landed on this island. Their numbers were small. They found friends and not enemies. They told us they had fled from their own country for fear of wicked men, and had come here to enjoy their religion. *They asked for a small seat.* We took pity on them, granted their request, and they sat down amongst us. We gave them corn and meat; they gave us poison in return.

The white people had now found our country. Tidings were carried back, and more came amongst us. Yet we did not fear them. We took them to be friends. They called us brothers. We believed them, and gave them a large seat. At length their numbers had greatly increased. They wanted more land; they wanted our country. Our eyes were opened, and our minds became uneasy. Wars took place. Indians were hired to fight against Indians, and many of our people were destroyed. They also brought strong liquors among us. It was strong and powerful and has slain thousands.

Brother, Our seats were once large, and yours very small. You have now become a great people, and we have scarcely a place left to spread our blankets. You have got our country, but you are not satisfied; you want to force your religion upon us.

Brother, Continue to listen. You say that you are sent to instruct us how to worship the Great Spirit agreeable to His mind. And if we do not take hold of the religion which you white people teach, we shall be unhappy hereafter. You say that you are right, and we are lost. How do you know this to be true? We understand that your religion is written in a book. If it was intended for us as well as for you, why has not the Great Spirit given it to us, and not only to us, but why did He not give to our forefathers knowledge of that book, with the means of understanding it rightly? We only know what you tell us about it. How shall we know when to believe, being so often deceived by the white man?

Brother, You say there is but one way to worship and serve the Great Spirit. If there is but one religion, why do you white people differ so much about it? Why not all agree, as you can all read the book?

Brother, We do not understand these things. We are told that your religion was given to your forefathers and has been handed down -- father to son. We also have a religion, which was given to our forefathers, and has been handed down to us, their children. We worship that way. It teaches us to be thankful for all the favors we receive; to love each other, and to be united. We never quarrel about religion.

Brother, the Great Spirit has made us all, but He has made a great difference between his white and red children. He has given us a different complexion and different customs. To you He has given the arts. To these He has not opened our eyes. We know these things to be true. *Since He has made so great a difference between us in other things,* why may we not conclude that He has given us a different religion *according to our understanding?* The Great Spirit does right. He knows what is best for his children; we are satisfied.

Brother, we do not wish to destroy your religion, or to take it from you. We only want to enjoy our own.

Brother, you say you have not come to get our land or our money, but to enlighten our minds. I will now tell you that I have been at your meetings, and saw you collecting money from the meeting. I cannot tell what this money was intended for, but suppose it was for your minister, and if we should conform to your way of thinking, perhaps you may want some from us.

Brother,we are told that you have been preaching to the white people in this place. These people are our neighbors. We are acquainted with them. We will wait a little while, and see what effect your preaching has upon them. If we find it does them good, and makes them honest, and less disposed to cheat Indians, we will then consider again what you have said.

Brother, you have now heard our answer to your talk, and this is all we have to say at present. As we are going to part, we will come and take you by the hand, and hope the Great Spirit will protect you on your journey, and return you safe to your friends.