History
On this day, December 16th, in the year 1575, an earthquake occurred near Valdivia Chile. The city of Valdivia and the Chiloé Archipelago were once the two southernmost outliers of the Spanish Empire, located just north of the southern tip of South America. The earthquake occurred at 2:30pm, local time, and it is estimated that it was a magnitude 8.5 on the surface-wave scale and estimated magnitude of 9.0 on moment magnitude. The earthquake triggered the flooding of Valdivia. My first thought was, exactly how do we know all this. The answer is that Pedro Mariño de Lobera, who was the governor of Valdivia at that time, reported the quake and that the waters of the river opened like the Red Sea, one flowing upstream and the other downstream. That must have been quite a sight, and not likely to be one people would forget, and clear written documentation from an eyewitness helped too.
Acting quickly, Mariño de Lobera evacuated the city because he was concerned about the dam at Laguna de Anigua (now known as Riñihue Lake). The dam, he suspected, would not hold up to the pressure any cracks might place on it. Then, suddenly, the dam gave way, and while he noted the unfortunate deaths of many Indigenous people, no Spaniards died, because the settlement of Valdivia was temporarily relocated away from the riverside. I’m sure that like many people these days who think that they can ride out a hurricane, flash flood, or other such natural disaster; there were those who did not see evacuation as necessary. They evacuated anyway, and I’m sure they were glad they did.
I have often wondered how we can possibly know that on that day, in 1575, an earthquake occurred, and where. I suppose if I were a seismologist, I might have a better understanding of how all that works, and how we could have evidence of something so long ago…much less the magnitude of it. Nevertheless, apparently, they know a lot about it…and they were able to determine that the effects of this earthquake are comparable to those of the 1960 Valdivia earthquake, which at 9.4 to 9.6, was the largest quake ever recorded on Earth. That quake also caused subsequent Riñihuazo flooding. That was significant to the seismologists, who learned that these similarities indicate that large earthquakes exhibit patterns that span several centuries. Today, Valdivia has made a recovery from both earthquakes. The 2017 census lists the population at over 150,000.
People tend to be drawn to mysteries, especially when it involves the disappearance of a celebrity. Of course, we always hope for a good outcome, but that is not always meant to be. Many people these days don’t know who Glenn Miller is, mostly because of the era he came from. Glenn Miller was an American big band conductor, arranger, composer, trombone player, and recording artist before and during World War II, but during World War II, he was an officer in the US Army Air Forces. It was in his role as a military officer when Glenn Miller went missing on December 15, 1944, after heading out over the English Channel on a small military plane bound for Paris. or apparently so.
Shortly after the world learned that Miller, one of the University of Colorado Bould most distinguished alumni, had disappeared, the conspiracy theories began to fly. The fact that Miller was never found, just adds to the mystery surrounding this case. That doesn’t mean that the search is over. Still, 80 years is a long time for a mystery to remain unsolved. It is not for lack of trying, that the disappearance remains a mystery. For Miller’s family, I’m sure all the continuing speculation gets to be annoying, especially when it involves some sensationalistic theories designed to discredit Miller. Theories include things like an assassination before he even boarded the plane he was supposedly on for the purpose of a secret mission for Dwight Eisenhower, or that he made it to Paris ha died of a heart attack in a bordello (I find this one very distasteful, in that it is defamation of character), or that the small plane he was on was destroyed by bombs jettisoned from a phalanx of Allied bombers passing overhead on their way back from an aborted mission over Germany. I’m sure there were others, but without proof, people shouldn’t speculate.
Eventually, long after the war was over, the truth (at least as far as it will ever be proven) came out. Typical of the US government…and many other governments too, I’m sure…documents from the investigation were boxed up after the war, sent to the United States and locked away. I understand the need to keep wartime documents under wraps, but so many years later…why is it necessary to hide that information from the grieving families. The information was there, they were just not given access. It turns out that witnesses saw Miller get on the plane, and the plane, a C64 Norseman, had a known problem with the carburetor heaters. While the bodies and the plane were not found, it is pretty certain that the freezing weather that day froze the lines, causing the plane to crash shortly after takeoff. I don’t suppose we will know for sure, until the plane is found, but after all these ears, that seems unlikely.
I’ve been listening to an audiobook called the “The Germans In Normandy.” Of course, I’m not a fan of the Germans in World War II, but this book talks about the German perspective about that battle. We all think that the German soldiers went blindly into battle, faithful to their leader…or at least most of them, but the German soldiers all had doubts. They all thought Hitler was about half crazy, but they were afraid to say anything…for the most part anyway.
As I’ve listened to the book, the Hitler Youth came into the story, and I began to wonder, not only how the Hitler Youth felt about Hitler and the Third Reich, but how many of them stayed faithful to Hitler’s ideals and how many of them turned from Hitler’s ideals. So, I did a little research.
Hitler believed that by conditioning young people in groups as the Hitler Youth, they “never be free again, not in their whole lives.” While many young individuals were profoundly influenced by these organizations, support for the Hitler Youth was not as extensive as Nazi leaders had hoped. The youth initially joined and were very excited about their participation, but as time went on, their interest declined. Many young people skipped certain meetings and activities, despite mandatory attendance requirements, resulting in inconsistent loyalty. The reasons behind their declining enthusiasm for Hitler Youth activities were not solely political or moral at times, young individuals simply grew weary of the numerous obligations or became bored. In 1939, the Social Democratic Party, which had been banned by the Nazis and operated covertly, published a report on German youth that highlighted some of this frustration. Young people are notorious for promoting change, and that was what they thought they were doing. The restrictions placed on them by the organizers of the Hitler Youth made many of the youth want to walk away.
Of those who did walk away was Hans Scholl, along with Alexander Schmorell, one of the two founding members of the White Rose resistance movement in Nazi Germany. The White Rose was a non-violent, intellectual resistance group in the Third Reich. The group was led by Hans Scholl, and his sister, Sophie, along with several other former Hitler Youth members. The students attended the University of Munich. Their objective was to raise awareness through anonymous leaflets and a graffiti campaign that called for active opposition to the Nazi regime. the anonymity of their actions, Third Reich had spies everywhere. Hans became disillusioned because he had assembled a collection of folk songs, and his young charges loved to listen to him singing, accompanying himself on his guitar. He knew not only the songs of Hitler Youth but also the folk songs of many peoples and many lands. He loved how magically a Russian or Norwegian song sounded with its dark and dragging melancholy. And he thought about what it told of the soul of those people and their homeland! Then, Hans was told the songs were not allowed. He had aways thought that people should be able to pursue the things that interested them, but now the Hitler Youth program was no longer what he thought it was, and he walked away.
Hans and Sophie Scholl, along with Christoph Probst, were prominent members of the core group. The activities of The White Rose in Munich began on June 27, 1942, and ended in the arrest of the group by the Gestapo on February 18, 1943. Those apprehended now faced death sentences or imprisonment in show trials conducted by the Nazi People’s Court (Volksgerichtshof). During the trial, Sophie interrupted the judge multiple times, but her remarks went unacknowledged. The defendants were not given the opportunity to speak. They had no means to defend themselves and were declared guilty during the “trial.” They were executed by guillotine four days after their arrest, on February 22, 1943. The group, which had only been active for eight months, had never committed any violent acts. They were sentenced to death. Hitler’s regime regarded them as a greater threat due to their pamphlets and art than if they had killed people.
During five weeks in the fall of 1718, Charleston’s citizens observed thirteen trials involving fifty-eight men charged with piracy. Piracy was and is looked upon as a particularly heinous crime. Most of the documentation of the trials was done by clerks working feverously with quill and ink. Pirates were and are known for the viciousness of the crimes they commit. For them, it is not enough to steal the valuables from the boats to seize, they didn’t consider their attack complete until they had brutalized their victims. Piracy in that period included aggravated armed robbery, assault, murder, rape, and kidnapping at sea. It was a growing menace, and its presence at so close to colonial borders demanded and received the full attention of local authorities.
Between 1716 and 1718, several pirate ships frequently disrupted the maritime traffic entering and leaving Charleston’s port. These incidents significantly halted South Carolina’s crucial sea trade. It was a serious matter and demanded serious repercussions. The pirate incursions were far more than mere nuisances or disruptions to trade. The fact was that they posed a real danger to the lives of many and threatened the political and economic foundations of the young colony. Unfortunately, with no local newspaper in Charleston until January 1732, there are no detailed accounts of the pirate activities of the 1710s. Finally, the provincial government of South Carolina, located in Charleston, engaged in discussions and formulated a collective response to the pirate threats of 1717 and 1718, but the particulars of their actions have mostly been lost to history. Consequently, we lack sufficient resources to fully narrate South Carolina’s brush with what our legislature once termed the “Pirates of the Bahamas.” Major Stede Bonnet’s crew consisted of Alexander Amand/Annand (from British Jamaica), Job ‘Bayley’ Baily (from London), Samuel Booth (from Charles Town), Robert Boyd (from Bath Town), Thomas Carman (from Maidstone, Kent), and George Dunkin (from Glasgow), to name a few, were considered particularly vicious, and their punishments would need to be vicious as well.
Following the trials and guilty verdicts, Major Stede Bonnet and his crew of 29 men were hanged on November 8, 1718, at White Point, Charleston, South Carolina. It had been decided that hanging just wasn’t bad enough for the crimes these men committed. I’m sure they thought long and hard about how they could show the same viciousness to these men, that they had shown to their victims. Finally, they came up with the perfect final punishment. Following their hanging, these men were buried in the marsh below the low watermark.
I’ve always thought the poem “The Charge of the Light Brigade” by Alfred Lord Tennyson was an interesting poem, but I didn’t always know what it was about. Published on December 9, 1854, by The Examiner, the poem honored the bravery of 600 British soldiers who charged a heavily fortified position at the Battle of Balaklava in Crimea, only six weeks prior.
Tennyson did not come from an idyllic home. In fact, he was born into a tumultuous and unstable household. His father, once the heir to a wealthy landowner, was passed over for inheritance in favor of his younger brother. Consequently, he joined the clergy to make ends meet and then turned to alcohol, as he became deeply depressed and embittered. Despite this, he imparted a classical education to his children. Alfred, the fourth among twelve siblings, attended Trinity College, Cambridge in 1827. That year, he and his brother Charles released “Poems by Two Brothers.” While at Cambridge, Tennyson joined a group of intellectual peers who earnestly supported his poetry. Among them was Arthur Hallam, who not only became Tennyson’s dearest friend but was also engaged to Tennyson’s sister, Emily. Unfortunately, Hallum died suddenly while on a trip overseas, so they never married.
In 1830, Tennyson released “Poems, Chiefly Lyrical.” The subsequent year, after the death of his father, he had to leave Cambridge due to financial limitations. Despite facing critical scrutiny and financial hardships, Tennyson continued to commit to his craft, producing several additional volumes. The unexpected passing of Tennyson’s close friend Arthur Hallam in 1833 led to the creation of several significant pieces in Tennyson’s subsequent years, notably the acclaimed In Memoriam in 1842. That same year, he released a collection titled Poems, which included some of his finest compositions. This publication elevated Tennyson’s standing, and by 1850, which is what led to his appointment as Poet Laureate by Queen Victoria. Ultimately, Tennyson secured financial security and wed his long-time love, Emily Sellwood, to whom he had been engaged since 1836. In 1850, Tennyson had been appointed Poet Laureate, which is an eminent poet traditionally appointed for life as a member of the British royal household, by Queen Victoria. Alfred Lord Tennyson continued to write and publish poetry until his passing in 1892.
His poem, “The Charge of the Light Brigade” is really the one that interests me most. The 600 men who went into the Battle of Balaclava knew it was a suicide mission. I’m sure most were terrified, yet they had orders, and they had to follow those orders. I’m sure that was the exact way the men who stormed the beaches at Normandy felt. How could they not? The beaches, like the valley the 600 men of the Battle of Balaclava went into, were heavily fortified, and there was really not way to go in there without losing many lives. Nevertheless, the brave men who fought in those battles, dug down deep, and gathered their courage, and did their duty. Of the 670 men who went in, miraculously only 110 were killed, even though they were taking fire from three sides. These men were very brave, and that deserves remembrance.
The 83rd anniversary of Pearl Harbor, at least for the Baby Boomer generation and older, prompts reflection on the United States’ stance of often waiting for an initial attack before responding. While this is not always the case, it appears to be a common scenario. The US strives to act as a peacemaker, and the decision to go to war is never taken lightly due to the grave consequences of taking lives. Typically, numerous warnings are issued before any action is taken, and frequently, it’s too late to preemptively strike. The first to strike is often labeled the aggressor, but there are times when ample warning signals an imminent attack, yet the response is still delayed, until the attack occurs, resulting in loss of life and leaving the survivors to deal with the aftermath rather than considering an immediate counterstrike. Of course, the reverse is hard to deal with too, because we would come off as being the aggressor, and that just isn’t our style.
On December 7, 1941, the United States found itself in a precarious position. Despite repeatedly warning Japan, the United States using the Hull Note as a show of the ultimate caution, tried to avoid entering World War II. The Hull Note officially the Outline of Proposed Basis for Agreement Between the United States and Japan, was the final proposal delivered to the Empire of Japan by the United States of America before the attack on Pearl Harbor (December 7, 1941) and the Japanese declaration of war (seven and a half hours after the attack began). Unfortunately, Japan to all that as a show of weakness. Nevertheless, knowing that Japan would likely not comply, and essentially declaring war, the US still hoped they would proceed slowly, perhaps even reconsider their course. Conversely, Japan acted swiftly, dispatching their strike force towards Pearl Harbor and simultaneously sending a decoy towards Thailand to mislead the US. Then, believing an attack on Thailand was imminent, President Roosevelt implored Emperor Hirohito via telegram to act “for the sake of humanity” and prevent further devastation. The US endeavored to maintain peace.
After transmitting the telegram, President Roosevelt was working on his stamp collection alongside his personal advisor, Harry Hopkins. They deliberated over Japan’s rejection of the Hull Note. Hopkins proposed a preemptive strike by America, but President Roosevelt maintained that it was not an option. Unbeknownst to them, it was already too late for a first strike…time had run out. The Japanese forces were en route to Pearl Harbor, where a significant segment of the Pacific Fleet lay anchored, vulnerable to attack. The impending ambush would devastate 18 US ships, including the Arizona, Virginia, California, Nevada, and West Virginia, either destroyed, sunk, or capsized. Over 180 aircraft were destroyed on the ground, with an additional 150 damaged, leaving a mere 43 operational. American casualties exceeded 3,400, with over 2,400 fatalities—1,000 of which occurred on the Arizona alone. The Japanese incurred fewer than 100 losses.
It often appears that the party who strikes first, swiftly and with the element of surprise, ultimately fares better. The side caught off guard, or the one that ignored the warning signs, is usually defeated. With one of the strongest military forces on Earth, America should not be taken by surprise. I believe that overconfidence in one’s strength, leading to a lack of vigilance, can result in the downfall of even the mightiest. The United States has been such a force, but our reluctance to preemptively strike seems to invite repeated attacks without warning. It is only after such attacks that we seem to retaliate.
It’s indeed a dilemma, perhaps reflective of President Roosevelt’s perspective. If we strike first, we’re vilified globally as the aggressors, akin to those at Pearl Harbor. If we don’t, we face condemnation from our own citizens. Moreover, our intelligence isn’t infallible, leading to situations like the surprise attack on December 7th, 1941, when we expected honor from an adversary who did not feel bound by it. It seems that although being attacked unprovoked is undesirable, we must still act honorably and not launch a preemptive strike merely based on anticipated aggression. Otherwise, we become indistinguishable from those nations we confront in war for their acts of invasion. Nevertheless, it remains a huge challenge to always be the nation that does the right things, especially when there is a profound mistrust of our enemies…because we know better.
On the shores of Lake Ontario between Whitby and Oshawa is an area now known as Intrepid Park, but that wasn’t always its name, and in was now just an innocent park then either. Today, in fact, few remnants suggest the fascinating history of the site. During the World War II, it served as Camp X, the clandestine intelligence and espionage training center for the Allies. Officially designated as Secret Training Center 103, with the informal designation, Camp X, the site fully captures the top-secret essence of its operations. The site is currently recognized as Intrepid Park, named in honor of Sir William Stephenson’s codename Intrepid. Stephenson was the Director of British Security Coordination (BSC) who was responsible for founding the training center.
The facility was a collaborative effort involving the Canadian military, with support from Foreign Affairs and the RCMP, and was commanded by the BSC. It also had strong links with MI6. While the United States was officially neutral at that time, the camp aimed to strengthen ties between the US and Great Britain. The camp boasted a communications tower called Hydra, which was equipped to send and transmit radio and telegraph messages. The camp officially opened on December 6, 1941, and with the Pearl Harbor attack the next day, the US abandoned its stance of neutrality and actively participated in the war, including the training of troops at Camp X.
The camp provided training in diverse skills such as sabotage, subversion, intelligence gathering, lock picking, explosives handling, radio operation, code encryption/decryption, partisan recruitment, silent killing, and hand-to-hand combat. Trainees also learned communication methods, including Morse code. The camp was shrouded in such secrecy that even the Canadian Prime Minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King, did not completely understand its purpose. Reports indicate that graduates worked as “secret agents, security personnel, intelligence officers, or psychological warfare experts, serving in clandestine operations. Many were captured, tortured, and executed; survivors received no individual recognition for their efforts.” The facility was in operation throughout World War II. The training facility ceased operations before the end of 1944. By 1969, the buildings were dismantled, and a monument placed there.
Apparently, Ian Flemming visited or was trained at Camp X, because it is said that he used the site as a model for his training facility on the “007” series of movies. Fleming worked in intelligence most of his naval career. In fact, much of the background to the stories came from Fleming’s previous work in the Naval Intelligence Division or from events he knew of from the Cold War. His work there is very likely what made those movies so believable.
We all know that California is prone to wildfires. The hot Santa Ana winds stir up trouble every single year. Some years are worse than others due to dryer conditions. The year 2017 was one of those years. That year, in December, a series of 29 wildfires broke out across Southern California. Six of these fires escalated into major incidents, prompting extensive evacuations and significant property damage. The fires collectively incinerated more than 307,900 acres, leading to traffic jams, school shutdowns, dangerous air quality, and electricity blackouts, with over 230,000 individuals forced to evacuate. The Thomas Fire quickly grew to 281,893 acres, setting the record as the largest wildfire in contemporary California history, a record that stood until the Ranch Fire in the Mendocino Complex exceeded it the next year.
On December 5th, Governor Jerry Brown declared a state of emergency for Ventura and Los Angeles Counties, followed by San Diego County on December 7th. President Donald Trump went on to declare a State of Emergency for California on December 8th. The situation was already heading for a disaster, and these resources were going to be badly needed. The swarm of wildfires was intensified by exceptionally strong and persistent Santa Ana winds, coupled with abundant dry vegetation due to an unusually parched rainy season to that date. These fires also marked the culmination of an extraordinarily active and damaging wildfire season, resulting in at least $3.5 billion in damages, as well as, $2.2 billion in insured losses and $300 million in fire suppression expenses.
The initial report of the fire came in at 6:26pm on December 4th, just north of Santa Paula, close to Steckel Park and Thomas Aquinas College. The winds quickly pushed the blaze until it covered 12 miles of rural terrain into Ventura city. Within a few hours, it had destroyed nearly 500 homes, engulfing 50,000 acres. In the following days, it progressed toward Ojai, crossing Highway 33 and the Ventura River, reaching the Rincon Oil Field area. By December 8th, the Thomas Fire had expanded to 143,000 acres, with containment at only 10%, and the cost of battling the blaze was estimated to be at least $17 million. By the evening of December 10th, the Thomas Fire had expanded to 230,000 acres, now ranking as the fifth-largest wildfire in the modern history of California and the largest to occur in the state during December. It was moving so fast…at times, spreading at a rate exceeding one acre per second. It destroyed a minimum of 794 structures, damaged another 187, and incurred a fighting cost of at least $38.4 million, placing it among the top ten most destructive wildfires in California’s history. By the early hours of December 11th, the Thomas Fire had increased to 230,500 acres, with containment efforts reaching 15%. On December 13th, the Thomas Fire’s northwestern and southwestern flanks merged east of Carpinteria, covering an area that includes Ojai and Lake Casitas. By the early hours of December 16th, the fire had grown to 259,000 acres, with 40% containment, now overtaking the Rim Fire as the third-largest wildfire in California’s history. By December 19th, the Thomas Fire had expanded to 272,000 acres, with 55% containment, becoming the second-largest wildfire in the state’s modern history. On the evening of December 22nd, the Thomas Fire grew to 273,400 acres, reaching 65% containment and surpassing the Cedar Fire of 2003, making it California’s largest recorded wildfire. By December 24th, the fire had expanded to 281,620 acres, which was largely due to a back-burning operation merging into the fire’s northwestern flank, although the containment of the fire also rose to 86%.
Then, on January 8–9, 2018, what might have seemed like blessing…a winter storm hit California, causing heavy rainfall in Southern California and leading to mandatory evacuations in parts of Los Angeles, Santa Barbara, and Ventura Counties due to the risk of mudslides in wildfire-affected areas. The storm resulted in at least four inches of rain, triggering numerous significant mudflows. On January 12, 2018, the US Forest Service announced that the Thomas Fire was 100 percent contained, covering 281,893 acres. Nevertheless, officials from Los Padres National Forest kept watch over the Thomas Fire’s burn area for any remaining hotspots. By March 22, 2018, InciWeb reported the Thomas Fire as inactive and stopped updates. Nevertheless, they kept a vigil, before finally, officially declaring the fire extinguished on June 1, 2018, following over two months without any detected hotspots within the burn area’s boundaries.
In addition to the Thomas fire, 28 other fires raged across the area during that period. Causes of the fires varied, from lightning to illegal cook fires to arson. Roads and interstates had to be closed, and areas evacuated. The wildfires of December 2017 devastated vast tracts of land, leading to significant property damage. Moreover, they compelled the evacuation of over 230,000 residents from their homes. The Thomas Fire claimed the lives of two individuals: Virginia Pesola, a 70-year-old civilian from Santa Paula, and Cory Iverson, a firefighter engaged in combatting the blaze. “This is a tragic reminder of the dangerous work that our firefighters do every day,” stated Teresa Benson, Los Padres National Forest Supervisor, in a press release. “The Thomas Fire presents many unprecedented conditions and complexities, adding to the already challenging task of fire suppression.” The wildfires led to the destruction of vast areas of forest. The absence of tree roots, which normally help bind the soil, resulted in decreased ground stability, making the terrain susceptible to mudslides during heavy rainfall. In early January 2018, forecasts of significant rain for the American Southwest prompted the issuance of flash flood warnings and evacuation orders for parts of California that were impacted by the wildfires. In all 45 civilians and 2 firefighters lost their lives in these 29 fires. In addition, 199 civilians and 12 firefighters were injured, and 10,280 structures were destroyed.
Sometimes, people are so serious about their cause, that they decide to stage a sit-in. Sometimes that, in itself, can become extreme. Such was the case when four students at the University of California, Berkeley, decided to occupy the treetops of an oak grove on campus on December 2, 2006. They were there to show their opposition to the university’s intention to clear more than an acre of forest for a new athletic center, sparking an epic 21-month standoff. This event marked one of the longest tree sit-ins in historical record. When I read that they were there that long, I was stunned. To give up almost 2 years of one’s life for a protest…unbelievable.
I understand the desire to save trees, but I guess, I can’t understand fighting such a losing battle. Tree sit-ins are “a method of civil disobedience” where protesters physically inhabit a tree to protect it from being felled, sometimes remaining there for extended durations. During the height of the Berkeley protest, more than twelve individuals resided among the branches of the grove’s oak and redwood trees, with volunteers and supporters providing them with food, water, and other necessities. This was not just civil disobedience, but it was assisted by more than a dozen people, to make sure that no one could cut down those trees, and they were the property of the university.
Of course, it wasn’t just the students either. They also had the backing of the Sierra Club and the California Native Plant Society, as well as facing lawsuits from three entities, including the Berkeley City Council, due to the project’s closeness to the hazardous Hayward Fault. A conservation analyst noted that the grove served as a habitat for over 300 animal species, such as deer, squirrels, woodpeckers, and moths. There were a number of “logical” reasons why the grove should be spared, but the fact remains that the animals would find another place to live, and they weren’t taking all the trees. I don’t mean to sound cold, and I’m as willing as the next guy to fight for things I believe in, but this made no sense…not to me anyway.
Nevertheless, the students held their ground until 2007, when an Alameda County judge issued an injunction that halted the plans to cut down a grove. It was a temporary “stay of execution” for the trees, but by July 2008, the court decided in favor of the university. Once the decision was made, campus police arrested protesters and dismantled their redwood encampments. There was an appeal, of course, to a state appeals court in September 2008, but they declined to halt construction, permitting the university to remove the entire grove within the next three days. A week later, the last four tree-sitters descended from one of the final two redwoods near the stadium and were arrested. The students had wasted 649 days of their lives, on a battle they couldn’t win. I guess hope springs eternal.
Being in the fur trade, especially back in the 1800s was no picnic. While the trapper was the one with the traps and the guns, that doesn’t mean that the wild animals couldn’t get the better of them from time to time. In addition, the hardships endured by even the most resilient of trappers, such as being alone in the wilderness and in constant danger of conflict with both wild animals and men, are beyond our ability to comprehend. Most perished in the quiet of remote areas, their names now lost, the valor of their final struggles unrecorded. Only the archives of the major fur companies offer scant references to such events deemed significant enough to document.
These events typically took place in the great mountains, where trappers held rendezvous and spent the majority of their lives. The catastrophic Battle of Pierre’s Hole, the valiant exploration of Utah, and the initial advance into California are all laden with dramatic episodes. However, these incidents occurred too far to the west to be included in the scope of this current work.
In the initial years of exploration, with beaver trapping along the streams, the Great Plains served primarily as a thoroughfare from civilized regions to the more lucrative mountainous areas beyond. Travelers, whether alone or in groups, journeyed up the Missouri River by boat or trekked along the Platte River valley on foot, aiming for the distant mountain ranges. Undoubtedly, they experienced considerable hardship, adventure, and conflicts with Native Americans along those extensive prairie stretches, yet these events were deemed too mundane to merit inclusion in the fur companies’ matter-of-fact records.
One man had a harrowing experience, and somehow it was deemed important to make it into the annals of history. The remarkable survival of Hugh Glass is a testament to the resilience and fortitude of these frontiersmen. Glass was part of Andrew Henry’s group on an expedition to the Yellowstone River. While hunting near the Grand River, a grizzly bear charged from the brush, knocked him down, ripped a chunk of flesh from him, and fed it to her cubs. Glass attempted to flee, but the bear quickly attacked again, biting his shoulder and causing severe injuries to his hands and arms. At that moment, his fellow hunters arrived and killed the bear. Glass was grievously injured and barely alive. He was not expected to live. In the hostile territory of the Native Americans, the group had to move on swiftly. Eventually, Major Henry persuaded two men to stay with Glass by offering a reward, while the rest continued on. The two were John S Fitzgerald and a man named “Bridges,” who some say was a young James “Jim” Bridger, the same Jim Bridger who would become a renowned trapper. That has not been confirmed. They stayed with Glass for five days, but losing hope in his recovery and seeing no signs of imminent death, they departed, taking his rifle and gear. Upon rejoining their group, they reported Glass as deceased.
Yet, Glass was still alive. Regaining consciousness, he dragged himself to a nearby spring. There, he found wild cherries and buffalo berries, which sustained him as he gradually regained his strength. Eventually, he embarked on a solitary trek to his destination, Fort Kiowa, on the Missouri River, 100 miles distant. He began his journey with barely enough strength to move, without provisions or any means to obtain them, in a land where any wandering Indian could easily overpower him. However, his will to live and a burgeoning desire for vengeance against those who had abandoned him spurred him on. Luck appeared to be on his side. He stumbled upon wolves attacking a buffalo calf. After the wolves had killed it, he scared them off and took the meat, consuming it as best as he could without a knife or fire. Carrying as much as possible, he continued determinedly and, despite immense suffering and difficulties, ultimately arrived at Fort Kiowa, located in what is now South Dakota.
Glass returned to the field before his wounds had fully healed. Heading east with a group of trappers along the Missouri River, they approached the Mandan villages, and he chose to traverse a bend in the river on foot. That turned out to be a wise move when Arikara Indians attacked the boats, killing everyone aboard. Glass, who was too weak to fight, narrowly escaped and was rescued by friendly Mandan Indians who took him to Tilton’s Fort. Driven by a desire for revenge against the two who had abandoned him in the mountains, he left Tilton’s that very night. So, Glass set out, braving the wilderness alone. He traveled for 38 days through territory hostile with Indian tribes, until he arrived at Fort Henry near the confluence of the Big Horn River in what is now Montana. There, he learned that the men he was after had headed east. Undeterred, he seized an opportunity to deliver a dispatch to Fort Atkinson, Nebraska.
Then, after completely healing from his injuries, Glass resumed his quest to locate Fitzgerald and “Bridges.” He made his way to Fort Henry on the Yellowstone River, only to discover it abandoned. A left-behind note revealed that Andrew Henry and his group had moved to a new encampment at the Bighorn River’s mouth. Upon reaching this location, Glass encountered “Bridges” and seemingly pardoned him due to his young age, before rejoining Ashley’s company.
Glass eventually discovered that Fitzgerald had enlisted in the army and was posted at Fort Atkinson, now in Nebraska. Glass chose to spare Fitzgerald’s life, knowing that the army captain would execute him for murdering a fellow soldier. Nevertheless, the captain demanded Fitzgerald return the rifle he had taken from Glass. Upon returning it, Glass cautioned Fitzgerald to never desert the army, or he would face death at Glass’s hands. A later account by Glass’s companion, George C Yount, which wasn’t published until 1923, revealed that Glass received $300 in restitution. I’m sure Fitzgerald felt he got off easy and had no plans to leave the army.
In early 1833, Glass, along with fellow trappers Edward Rose and Hilain Menard, was killed on the Yellowstone River during an Arikara attack. A monument honoring Glass stands near the location of his mauling on the southern bank of what is now Shadehill Reservoir in Perkins County, South Dakota, at the confluence of the Grand River. The adjacent Hugh Glass Lakeside Use Area also offers a state-maintained campground and picnic site at no cost.