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Archive for May, 2018

The Adirondack Mountains, New York

Posted by graywacke on May 29, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-five-or-seven days blog), I use an app that provides a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”

I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town or towns I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. 

To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some more recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2403; A Landing A Day blog post number 837.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (43o 41.447’N, 73o 49.202’W) puts me in east central New York:

My local landing map shows some towns:

Obviously none of these towns became titular, because they are all:

What is not hookless is the fact that I landed in the Adirondack Mountains:

Obviously, much more about the Adirondacks in a bit.

My streams-only map shows that I landed in the watershed of good ol’ Stream Perennial, which discharges to the Schroon River (2nd hit):

Zooming back, we can see that the Schroon makes its way to the not-so-mighty-up-here-in-the-Adirondacks Hudson River:

I’m going to zoom in a little closer on my local landing map:

Notice that it looks like I landed right on a road.  Think that maybe I have Google Earth (GE) Street View coverage on that very road?  You bet!

And let me zoom way in so you can see where I placed the Orange Dude:

And here’s what he sees!

And why, you may ask, is there a short section of guard rail right there?  Because there’s a stream!  I moved the OD a few feet and had him look east.  Here ‘tis:

This little stream makes its way to the Schroon River, so I put the OD on a Schroon River Bridge:

And then, of course, he made his way to a Hudson River bridge:

JFTHOI (BIC)*, I thought I’d head downstream a ways and put the OD on the GW.  (That’s the Orange Dude on the George Washington Bridge.)  But strangely, there appears to be no Street View coverage on the GW Bridge!  But more strangely still, there appears to be River View coverage on the Hudson itself:

*Just for the heck of it (because I can)

And here’s the OD on a boat, looking downstream at the bridge:

And while I’m here at the GW Bridge, remember the “Bridgegate scandal,” when members of then-governor Chris Christie’s administration closed off some access lanes from the town of Fort Lee to the bridge, causing a multi-day, massive traffic jam?  The story is that they did this to punish the mayor of Fort Lee, who refused to endorse Christie.

I couldn’t resist.  Here’s a great Jimmy Fallon / Bruce Springsteen piece about that very scandal:

 

In the day we sweat it out on the streets,
Stuck in traffic on the GWB
They shut down the tollbooths of glory ’cause we didn’t endorse Christie.
Sprung from cages on Highway 9, we got three lanes closed,
So Jersey get your ass in line
Whoa, maybe this Bridgegate was just payback,
It’s a bitchslap to the state democrats,
We gotta get out but we can’t.
We’re stuck in Gov. Chris Christie’s Fort Lee, N.J. traffic jam.

Governor, let me in, I wanna be your friend,
There’ll be no partisan divisions
Let me wrap my legs ’round your mighty rims
And relieve your stressful condition
You’ve got Wall Street masters stuck cheek-to-cheek
With blue collar truckers,
And man, I really gotta take a leak
But I can’t. I’m stuck in Gov. Chris Christie’s Fort Lee, N.J. traffic jam

Highways jammed with pissed off drivers with no place left to go
And the press conference went on and on,
It was longer than one of my own damn shows
Someday, governor, I don’t know when,
This will all end, but till then you’re killing the working man
who’s stuck in the Gov. Chris Christie Fort Lee, N.J. traffic jam

Whoa, oh oh oh
I gotta take a leak
Whoa, oh oh oh
I really gotta take a leak
Whoa, oh oh oh
Down in Jerseyland

We all know that Bruce is great – after all, he is the Boss.  But Fallon?  Truly remarkable!

And JFTHOI (BIC), I had the OD ride the boat downstream to take a look at Downtown Manhattan:

Oh my!  It’s a fireboat!  And they put on a show for the Google Cam!

I had the OD turn & take a look in the other direction to check out Lady Liberty:

Continuing my JFTHOI (BIC) tour, here’s a cool Water View shot of the end of the Brooklyn Bridge and the Lower Manhattan skyline from the East River:

And no, we’re not on a fireboat anymore:

Notice how most of the faces are blurred out, but not the lady front and center.  I really hope she’s aware of this shot, and had it printed and framed and has it proudly hanging in her living room.

Geez.  I guess it’s time for me to mosey back up the Hudson, and pay a visit to my titular mountain range.  It’s time for a little geology.   But first, this oblique GE shot of my landing, looking north towards the “high peaks” of the Adirondacks (those peaks above an elevation of 4000 feet):

From HistoryoftheEarthCalender.blogspot.com (by geologist Richard Gibson of Butte, Montana), I’ll start with a geologic map:

The dark green area on the map are the rocks of Adirondacks.  What’s peculiar about them is that they are more than one billion years old; among the oldest rocks on earth.  They are closely related to rocks found quite a bit to the north in Canada, part of the “Canadian Shield.”

Here’s some text from Mr. Gibson’s website:

The Adirondacks of northern New York are a strange little range, almost circular in shape. It’s really a large dome, a circular geological uplift. The oldest rocks, uplifted the most, are in the center, with younger rocks draping the flanks of the dome. And this uplift is really quite young, beginning around 5 or 10 million years ago – just yesterday, geologically speaking – and continuing to the present. So the present mountains have nothing to do with the Appalachians – which today are relatively low, eroded hills, a remnant of the mountain building events of many hundreds of million years ago.  So why are the Adirondacks there?

The circular dome suggests some kind of force pushing up from great depth.  It would have to be something big and incredibly powerful to rise from great depth to produce the huge dome at the Adirondacks. Not a salt dome, and not the small uplift around a rising magmatic intrusion. Those kinds of things make domes that are maybe one to 5 miles across, maybe 10 miles at most. The Adirondack Dome is 160 miles in diameter.

To be honest, we really don’t know why the Adirondack Dome began to rise, and why it continues to rise – by some estimates, one of the fastest-rising mountain ranges on earth, perhaps as fast as 1 or 2 millimeters a year, which is actually incredibly fast. There is controversy over uplift rate estimates, so stay tuned for more research on that.

[JFTHOI (BIC), here’s some math.  Let’s figure out what uplift results from 2 millimeters a year for ten million years.  Let me see, 2 mm is 2 thousandths of a meter, which is 0.002 m; times 10 would be 0.002 m; times 100 would be 0.02 m; times 1000 would be 0.2 m; times 10,000 would be 2 m; times 100,000 would be 20 meters; times 1,000,000 would be 200 m; times 10,000,000 would be 2000 m, or about 6,500 feet.  There you have it!  Pardon the interruption – back to the text:]

The best guess – and it really is a guess – is that there was a hotspot beneath the Adirondacks. Hotspots are regions of relatively low-density mantle, many tens of miles within the earth, that tend to rise buoyantly through denser parts of the mantle. Such a blob, pushing up, could make the broad dome that we see in the Adirondacks.

Hotspots are well known, especially those that get shallow enough that reduced pressure allows the hot rocks to melt. Then you can get volcanoes. There is a hotspot beneath Hawaii, one under Iceland, and one under Yellowstone. There are a few dozen around the world.

How about that!  I’ve been to the Adirondacks many times.  I’m a geologist.  One might think that I was generally aware of the above geologic history.  Nope.  Well, it’s never too late to learn . . .

It’s time for some GE Pictures.  I’ll start with this, by Jonathon Job, of a lake just north of my landing:

Either the dock is sinking or the lake level is way up . . .

And then this lovely sunset (sunrise?) shot by Aubrey Hoague, also of a nearby lake:

And, believe it or not, I’ll close with this shot by Justyn Ripley:

And, believe it or not, I think that Mr. Ripley did a little photo-shopping . . .

 

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

 

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Lund, Nevada

Posted by graywacke on May 23, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”

I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town or towns I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. 

To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2402; A Landing A Day blog post number 836.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (38o 46.808’N, 114o 57.666’W) puts me in east central Nevada:

My local landing map:

My streams-only map shows that I landed in the watershed of the White River (2nd hit), which appears to dead end:

However, with research and perseverance, I discovered the truth:

The White does in fact dry up completely, but maintains a topographical presence as the Pahranagat Wash; 2nd hit; (not identified on Street Atlas maps; thus my hand-drawn approximation) and which, I am sure, actually flows after heavy rains.  Pahranagat Wash has topographic continuity with the Meadow Valley Wash; 7th hit; (which is identified on Street Atlas).

Meadow Valley Wash has topographic continuity with the Muddy River (8th hit); which, somewhere beneath Lake Mead, joins up with the Virgin River (14th hit); which (also beneath Lake Mead), joins up with the Colorado River (183rd hit).

Get all of that?  You may wonder (as I do myself):  why do I spend so much time and effort to absolutely nail down my watersheds?  My only answer is:  that’s what I do . . .

Considering how far out in the boonies I am, I have excellent Google Earth (GE) Street View coverage:

And here’s what the OD sees:

While I was hanging out in GE, I snapped this oblique shot of my landing:

And zoomed back to get this broader perspective, looking across the White River Valley:

It’s time for true confessions:  I featured Lund in a 2011 post.  Not surprising, considering how isolated the town is.  Anyway, from that post:

Here’s info on Lund, from Wiki:

Lund was named for Anthon Lund, a prominent historical figure from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS, more commonly known as Mormons).  Lund was settled in 1898 on land that the US government had given the LDS as recompense for land that had been confiscated under the Edmunds-Tucker Act.  The population of Lund as of 2005 is 156.

So, I need to check out the Edmunds-Tucker act.  From Wiki:

The Edmunds–Tucker Act of 1887 was passed in response to the dispute between the US Congress and the LDS Church regarding polygamy.

The act punished the LDS Church on the grounds that they fostered polygamy. The act prohibited the practice of polygamy and punished it with a fine of from $500 to $800 and imprisonment of up to five years.   The act was enforced by the U.S. marshal and a host of deputies.

The act:

  • Directed the confiscation by the federal government of all church properties valued over a limit of $50,000.
  • Required an anti-polygamy oath for prospective voters, jurors and public officials.
  • Annulled territorial laws allowing illegitimate children to inherit.
  • Required civil marriage licenses (to aid in the prosecution of polygamy).
  • Abrogated the common law spousal privilege for polygamists, thus requiring wives to testify against their husbands
  • Removed local control in school textbook choice.

Pretty amazing history!  I guess polygamy didn’t quite fall under constitutional religious freedom . . .

As is typical, I found out a little more this time around.  From GreatBasinHeritage.com:

Part of the confiscated properties were large herds of Nevada cattle, which were turned over to three non-Mormon Nevada ranchers.  In 1893, the Edmund Tucker Act was declared unconstitutional and a resolution to restore the confiscated church property was introduced. No action was taken on this until 1896, by which time the cattle herds were severely reduced from poor management, bad investments, and severe winters. The three ranches were obliged to turn over everything they owned as replacement of the cattle they had lost, giving the Mormons the remaining cattle, horses, equipment, and a large piece of land (including Lund) to begin colonizing.

Here’ a Wiki shot of Joseph Smith Leavitt and family, early settlers in Lund.  (Gee.  I wonder who he was named after.) 

I see mom & dad and 7 or 8 kids – it looks to me like the woman on the left might not be one of the kids . . .

As per usual with the lousy pictures now available on GE, I didn’t have much to pick from.  So, here’s a picture by DeCall Thomas of Certified Welding Services Corp, showing what I presume is one of their welds on a electric transmission tower out in the White Valley:

And now, back to my original Lund post:

I’ll close with a picture from Lund, looking south.  As a central New Jerseyan, I must admit that I would love to see mountains in the distance . . .

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

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Luverne and Kanaranzi, Minnesota

Posted by graywacke on May 15, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”

I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town or towns I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. 

To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2401; A Landing A Day blog post number 835.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (43o 41.032’N, 96o 2.307’W) puts me in far SW Minnesota:

My local landing map:

My streams-only map shows that I landed in the watershed of Elk Creek; on to the Rock River (3rd hit).

Zooming back:

The Rock discharges to the Big Sioux River (7th hit).  Note that the Big Sioux has the honor of acting as the boundary between South Dakota and Iowa before it discharges to the Missouri (427th hit).  Of course, that drop of water that falls on my landing eventually ends up in the Mighty Mississippi (933rd hit).

Google Earth Street View coverage could be better, but I’ll take it:

Here’s what the Orange Dude sees:

I had him go a couple of miles west to get a look at Elk Creek:

Here’s the downstream view:

I suspect that a local farmer dug out the bottom of the creek to create a pond . . .

Let’s start with a quick trip to Kanaranzi.  According to Wiki, the town was named after Kanaranzi Creek.  “Kanaranzi Creek” was wiki-clickable, so I did, and here’s what Wiki has to say:

The name Kanaranzi comes from the Dakota word for “where the Kansas were killed”.

Who are “the Kansas?”  As you might expect, the Kansas are an Indian tribe.  From Wiki:

The Kaw Nation (or Kanza, or Kansa) are a Native American tribe in Oklahoma and parts of Kansas. The tribe have also been known as the “People of the South wind” and “People of water.” Their tribal language is Kansa.

Of course, “Kansas” was named after the tribe . . .

I don’t know what happened along the shores of the creek.  A nasty defeat at the hands of a hostile tribe?  Or, a nasty defeat at the hands of U.S. soldiers . . .

Let’s move to Luverne.  First, Wiki lets us know that Luverne was named for Luverne Hawes, the daughter of an early settler.  And then, we learn that Luverne was one of four towns profiled as part of Ken Burns’ PBS 2007 documentary “The War” (about WW II).

I strongly recommend that you click HERE to see a video from the documentary about Luverne and the surrounding Rock County.

Click HERE to check out the PBS article about the town.

Back to Wiki.  A “Notable Person” is Quentin Aanenson, a WW II ace pilot.  He (of course) was Wiki-clickable:

Aanenson demonstrated exceptional courage and ability as a fighter pilot, amassing tens of kills and beating all odds to survive the early months of his tour of duty.

He documented his experiences for his family, which was later turned into a documentary video, A Fighter Pilot’s Story, which Aanenson wrote, produced and narrated. The film was first televised in late 1993, then broadcast on over 300 public television stations in June 1994.

The three-hour documentary, tells of an enthusiastic and cheery boy very rapidly aged by too much death. It also tells of a remarkably wide range of combat duties and details many harrowing individual missions.

The documentary tells of a remarkable coincidence, in which Aanenson’s P-47 was called down to assist some American troops under attack by a tank. He surveyed the scene, then reported to the troops that the tank was too close to them for him to fire upon it without risking injury to the Americans. However, since the soldiers were sure to be killed if the tank wasn’t stopped, Aanenson decided to attack, and he managed to destroy the tank cleanly.

About two years after the war, Aanenson met a new neighbor who started to recount the story. About halfway through, Aanenson finished the memorable event for him.

He was also featured in the documentary The War by Ken Burns, recounting his experiences during World War II as a fighter pilot. At the conclusion of Episode Five of the series, Aanenson narrated a poignant and ominous letter he had written to his future wife but had never sent.

The letter reads:

Dear Jackie,

For the past two hours, I’ve been sitting here alone in my tent, trying to figure out just what I should do and what I should say in this letter in response to your letters and some questions you have asked. I have purposely not told you much about my world over here, because I thought it might upset you. Perhaps that has been a mistake, so let me correct that right now. I still doubt if you will be able to comprehend it. I don’t think anyone can who has not been through it.

I live in a world of death. I have watched my friends die in a variety of violent ways…

Sometimes it’s just an engine failure on takeoff resulting in a violent explosion. There’s not enough left to bury. Other times, it’s the deadly flak that tears into a plane. If the pilot is lucky, the flak kills him. But usually he isn’t, and he burns to death as his plane spins in. Fire is the worst. In early September one of my good friends crashed on the edge of our field. As he was pulled from the burning plane, the skin came off his arms. His face was almost burned away. He was still conscious and trying to talk. You can’t imagine the horror.

So far, I have done my duty in this war. I have never aborted a mission or failed to dive on a target no matter how intense the flak. I have lived for my dreams for the future. But like everything else around me, my dreams are dying, too. In spite of everything, I may live through this war and return to Baton Rouge (where he and his future wife were students at LSU). But I am not the same person you said goodbye to on May 3. No one can go through this and not change. We are all casualties. In the meantime, we just go on. Some way, somehow, this will all have an ending. Whatever it is, I am ready for it.

    Quentin

According to the PBS website, Quentin and Jackie married after the war and had three children and eight grandchildren.  He died from the effects of cancer at his home in Bethesda, Maryland in 2008.

Disappointed as usual with the meager offerings of the new GE photos, I’ll go instead to WoodsnLakes.com, for a 50s shot of Main Street in Adrian. 

See the station wagon on the right?  With a little research, I figured out it was a 1959 Ford.  Geez.  Back in 1959 (when I was 9), the fall of the year was bad and it was good.  Why was it bad?  Because we had to go back to school.  Why was it good?  Because all of the new car models came out. 

It was so exciting – my friends and I kept track of all of the new models we saw.  I suspect that even into the late 1960s, I would have recognized that car as a ’59 Ford.  Now?  I knew it was a Ford, but I guessed a few years earlier . . .

What happened in the late 1960s that would make me forget what the various model years of the various cars looked like?  Don’t ask . . .

I’ll close with this wonderful TV commercial for the 1959 Ford station wagon:

 

 

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

 

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Archer, Florida

Posted by graywacke on May 9, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”

I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town or towns I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. 

To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2400; A Landing A Day blog post number 834.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (33o 31.878’N, 90o 8.000’W) puts me in the NW Florida peninsula:

Here’s my local landing map, showing that Archer is the only game in town, er, I mean, the only town in the game:

Here’s my streams-only map:

It’s not obvious that my drainage heads east.  But I used the Google Earth (GE) elevation tool, and was able to determine that drainage (much of it in limestone caverns/cracks/crevices below the surface) makes its way east and ends up in the watershed of Orange Creek; on to the Oklawaha River (3rd hit); on to the St. John’s River (6th hit).

I have very good Google Earth (GE) Street View coverage of my landing:

And here ‘tis:

As mentioned above, my drainage ends up way east of my landing in the Oklawaha River.  Here’s a GE shot showing where I put the Orange Dude to get a look at the river:

Here’s the upstream view:

And the downstream:

Now I’d like to take a quick step back and review some recent posts.  First, there’s Greenwood MS where I featured Delta Blues pioneer Robert Johnson.  Before Greenwood was North Platte ND, where I featured singer/songwriter Josh Rouse.  Skipping over Eureka NV, we come to Jamestown ND, where I featured singer Peggy Lee.  Before Jamestown was Okemah OK, where I featured Woody Guthrie. 

I don’t want my regular readers to think that this blog has turned into a music history treatise.  But, you’ll never guess what’s going to happen here in Archer Florida. 

There’s one and only one hook in Archer:  it was the final home of one Bo Diddley.  From Wiki:

Ellas McDaniel (born Ellas Otha Bates, 1928 – 2008), known as Bo Diddley, was an American singer, guitarist, songwriter and music producer who played a key role in the transition from the blues to rock and roll. He influenced many artists, including Elvis Presley, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and the Clash.  He began his seminal work in the early 1950s.

The origin of the stage name Bo Diddley is unclear.  Although, as an expression, “bo diddley” likely evolved as follows:  A diddley bow is a homemade single-string instrument played mainly by farm workers in the South. It probably has influences from the West African coast.  In the American slang term bo diddly, bo is an intensifier and diddly is a truncation of diddly squat, which means “absolutely nothing”.

[Hey!  I used the phrase “diddly squat” as a kid.]

[Bo himself] claimed that his peers gave him the name, which he suspected was an insult.  He once said that the name first belonged to a singer his adoptive mother knew.  He also stated that it was his nickname as a Golden Gloves boxer.

Whatever . . .

Bo is best known for three songs:  “Bo Diddley,” the related “Hey, Bo Diddley” and “Who Do You Love?”

While I was vaguely familiar with Bo Diddley, and only slightly familiar with his work, I now recognize that he made his mark on rock ‘n roll.

Here’s an early (1956) version of “Bo Diddley:”

 

Bo Diddley bought his baby a diamond ring
If that diamond ring don’t shine
He gonna take it to a private eye
If that private eye can’t see
He better not take the ring from me

Bo Diddley bought a nanny goat
To make his pretty baby a Sunday coat
Bo Diddley bought a bear-a-cat
To make his pretty baby a Sunday hat

Mojo come to my house, a black cat bone
And take my baby away from home
Ugly ole Mojo where’s he been
Up to your house and gone again

Bo Diddley, Bo Diddley, have you heard?
My pretty baby said she was a bird.

Here’s “Who do you Love?”

 

I walk 47 miles of barbed wire,
I use a cobra-snake for a necktie,
I got a brand new house on the roadside,
Made from rattlesnake hide,
I got a brand new chimney made on top,
Made out of a human skull,
Now come on take a walk with me, arlene,
And tell me, who do you love?

Who do you love? (x4)

Tombstone hand and a graveyard mine,
Just 22 and I don’t mind dying.

Who do you love? (x4)

I rode a lion to town, use a rattlesnake whip,
Take it easy arlene, don’t give me no lip,

Who do you love? (x4)

Night was dark, but the sky was blue,
Down the alley, the ice-wagon flew,
Heard a bump, and somebody screamed,
You should have heard just what I seen.

Who do you love? (x4)

Arlene took me by my hand,
And she said ooowee bo, you know I understand.

Who do you love? (x4)

Remember Bo Jackson?  In the 80s, Bo was an all star in both football and baseball.  He made a series of “Bo Knows” commercials for Nike.  Here’s one, featuring our man:

 

I’ll close with this shot of “Watermelon Pond,” by Stephen Workman.  Although it’s a little far away (about 10 miles west of my landing).  Thanks to the slim pickens since GE dropped Panoramio, it’ll have to do:

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

 

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Greenwood, Mississippi

Posted by graywacke on May 4, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”

I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town or towns I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. 

To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2399; A Landing A Day blog post number 833.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (33o 31.878’N, 90o 8.000’W) puts me in central-NW Mississippi:

Here’s my local landing map, showing that Greenwood is the only game in town, er, I mean, the only town in the game:

Here’s my streams-only map:

There are several small, unnamed streams near my landing.  Try as I might (using the Google Earth elevation tool), I couldn’t really trace my drainage path at all.  Bottom line:  I landed in the Yazoo River watershed (14th hit).  Although not shown, the Yazoo flows to the MM (932nd hit).

I sent the Google Earth Orange Dude wandering the roads around my landing until he could find an unobstructed view:

And here’s what he sees:

And then I put him on a bridge over the Yazoo in Greenwood.  He took a look downstream:

So.  What about Greenwood?  Wiki let me know that Greenwood has its place in the history of the Civil Rights movement:

In June 1966, James Meredith, the first African American to attend the University of Mississippi, announced that he was going to walk from Memphis, Tennessee, to Jackson, a distance of more than 200 miles, to protest racism.  The route would take him through Greenwood.

Meredith was shot and hospitalized for injuries two days into his walk (by a sniper named Aubrey James Norvell). The photograph of Meredith after being shot won the Pulitzer Prize for Photography in 1967.

A novice photographer for AP, Jim Thornell was on the scene and took two rolls of pictures. Minutes passed before an ambulance reached Meredith, who lay in the road alone, shouting “Isn’t anyone going to help me?”  The photo (and the event itself) was a flash point in the American civil rights movement. It united and galvanized the scattered civil rights movement.

A number of high-profile civil rights leaders of major organizations, including Stokely Carmichael of SNCC, Martin Luther King of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), Floyd McKissick and Roger Wilkins of the NAACP, vowed to continue the march. They encouraged others to join them.

When the group reached Greenwood on June 17, Carmichael was arrested but released after a few hours. Later, in Greenwood’s Broad Street Park, Carmichael gave a speech, which became well known as the “Black Power” speech, stating:

“This is the twenty-seventh time I have been arrested—and I ain’t going to jail no more! The only way we gonna stop them white men from whuppin’ us is to take over. We been sayin’ “freedom” for six years and we ain’t got nothin’. What we gonna start saying now is Black Power!”

The speech marked a turning point in the civil rights movement; many younger members took up Carmichael’s slogan, and used it to support using violence to defend their freedom.  It seemed to catalyze the fragmentation of the civil rights movement in the mid 1960s,

The marchers persisted, growing in number as they neared the capital, and totaled more than 15,000 when they entered Jackson.

Also from Wiki:

Radio station WGRM on Howard Street was the location of B.B. King’s first live broadcast in 1940.  In memory of this event, the Mississippi Blues Trail has placed its third historic marker in this town at the site of the former radio station.

Another Mississippi Blues trail marker is placed near the grave of the blues singer Robert Johnson.

As some of you may remember, I featured B.B. King in my Placitas NM post.  He gave a concert at a music festival there in 1970:

 

But how about Robert Johnson?  Wow.  I’ll say.  How about Robert Johnson!  From Wiki:

Robert Leroy Johnson (1911 – 1938) was an American blues singer-songwriter and musician. His landmark recordings in 1936 and 1937 display a combination of singing, guitar skills, and songwriting talent that has influenced later generations of musicians.

Johnson’s shadowy and poorly documented life and death at age 27 have given rise to much legend. As an itinerant performer who played mostly on street corners, in juke joints, and at Saturday night dances, Johnson had little commercial success or public recognition in his lifetime.

After the reissue of his recordings in 1961, his work reached a wider audience. Johnson is now recognized as a master of the blues, particularly of the Mississippi Delta blues style. He is credited by many rock musicians as an important influence; the blues and rock musician Eric Clapton has called Johnson “the most important blues singer that ever lived.”

Johnson was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in its first induction ceremony, in 1986, as an early influence on rock and roll.  In 2003, Johnson was ranked fifth in Rolling Stone magazine’s “100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time”.

Like I said before:  Wow.

I’ll start out with Johnson’s “Kind Hearted Woman.”  Pay close attention to his guitar playing.  It may seem ordinary, but remember:  this is the first time that anyone, anywhere played blues like this:

 

I got a kind hearted woman
Do anything in this world for me
I got a kind hearted woman
Do anything in this world for me
But these evil-hearted women
Man, they will not let me be
I love my baby
My baby don’t love me
I love my baby, oooh
My baby don’t love me
But I really love that woman
Can’t stand to leave her be

A-ain’t but the one thing
Makes Mister Johnson drink
I’s worried ’bout how you treat me, baby
I begin to think
Oh babe, my life don’t feel the same
You breaks my heart
When you call Mister So-and-So’s name

She’s a kindhearted woman
She studies evil all the time
She’s a kindhearted woman
She studies evil all the time
You well’s to kill me
As to have it on your mind

 

Here’s Eric Clapton’s version:

 

 

Moving on to Johnson’s Cross Road Blues (familiar to any Eric Clapton fan):

 

I went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees
I went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees
Asked the Lord above
“Have mercy now, save poor Bob if you please”

Yeoo, standin’ at the crossroad, tried to flag a ride
Ooo eeee, I tried to flag a ride
Didn’t nobody seem to know me, babe, everybody pass me by

Standin’ at the crossroad, baby, risin’ sun goin’ down
Standin’ at the crossroad, baby, eee, eee, risin’ sun goin’ down
I believe to my soul, now, poor Bob is sinkin’ down

You can run, you can run, tell my friend Willie Brown
You can run, you can run, tell my friend Willie Brown
That I got the crossroad blues this mornin’
Lord, babe, I am sinkin’ down

And I went to the crossroad, mama, I looked east and west
I went to the crossroad, baby, I looked east and west
Lord, I didn’t have no sweet woman
Oh well, babe, in my distress.

Of course, now I’ll have to have Clapton’s version:

 

Here’s Robert Johnson’s “Sweet Home Chicago.”

 

Oh
Baby, don’t you want to go
Oh
Baby, don’t you want to go
Back to the land of California
To my sweet home Chicago

Oh
Baby, don’t you want to go
Oh
Baby, don’t you want to go
Back to the land of California
To my sweet home Chicago

Now one and one is two
Two and two is four
I’m heavy loaded baby
I’m booked, I gotta go
Cryin’, baby
Honey, don’t you want to go
Back to the land of California
To my sweet home Chicago

Now two and two is four
Four and two is six
You gon’ keep on monkeyin’ ’round here friend-boy,
You gon’ get your
Business all in a trick
But I’m cryin’, baby
Honey, don’t you want to go
Back to the land of California
To my sweet home Chicago

Now six and two is eight
Eight and two is ten
Friend-boy, she trick you one time
She sure gon’ do it again
But I’m cryin’, baby
Honey, don’t you want to go
Back to the land of California
To my sweet home Chicago

I’m goin’ to California
From there to Des Moines, Iowa
Somebody will tell me that you
Need my help someday, cryin’
Hey, hey
Baby, don’t you want to go
Back to the land of California
To my sweet home Chicago

Of course, Clapton did this song, but I’ll present a star-studded version at a glitzy Kennedy Center tribute to Buddy Guy.  (Note that they’ve changed the confusing reference to California in Robert’s original.)

 

Here’s a GE photo (by Robert Vogt) of the “Tallahatchie Flats,” located just outside Greenwood.  The flats are actual plantation “tenant houses” that were moved from local plantations and are now for rent (to tourists):

At their website, I checked out “Tush Hog’s House.”  Here’s a picture:

And the write-up:

There’s a certain mystery about this 3-room house.  Tush-Hog was the name of the man in whose house Robert Johnson died.  That house is no longer where it used to be and since this house came from nearby and no one knows for sure who lived in this house in the old days, we thought we’d call it Tush-Hog’s.

 

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

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