Assassins: Leon Czolgosz

Leon Czolgosz was born in Alpena, Michigan in 1873. Wooo! Michigan!...oh wait. How come all the killers have to come from Michigan? I know the weather sucks most of the time, but it's not that bad. There is a little bit of confusion of where the Czolgosz's came from. It was either Prussia, or modern day Belarus. Whichever it was, they hadn't been in America very long, landing in America in 1860's. Perfect timing! Nothing was happening then! Father Czolgosz's real last name was the infinitely easier to spell, Zholhus, and I can only assume he changed it to drive me insane while I attempt to write out Czolgosz a hundred times. Which is why I will only refer to Czolgosz by his first name. The Czolgosz's moved to Detroit when Leon was five and then eventually ended up in Warrensville, Ohio. Seeing as this was a nation that didn't care about child labor at the time, Leon left the family farm in Warrensville and started working at the local steel mill at ten years old, along with his two brothers. The Czolgosz boys were fired from the job after the workers went on strike. After staying at the family farm for a little while, Leon went to work at a glass factory, this time at sixteen years old. In the two years that he stayed and worked at the glass factory, he witnessed many more strikes and the violence that came from them. Tiring of this, he went back home once more. Too bad home wasn't stress-free for Leon. He didn't get along with his step-mother, and didn't agree with his family's Roman Catholic beliefs. Leon had always had trouble with relationships. He didn't make any friends as a child and was bullied constantly by peers. This pain, on top of his family troubles turned him into a recluse. Not looking too good for old Leon, is it?

In his reclusive state, Leon started to read Socialist and anarchist literature. He slowly became more and more entranced by the ideals of the two groups, culminating in his trip to Cleveland in 1901 to see political radical, Emma Goldman, speak. He quickly approached her after her speech and asked her for some reading recommendations. A few days later, he showed up at her house, calling himself Nieman (no man). So yeah, that's not creepy at all. Goldman said she had a train to catch, but would introduce him to some of her anarchist friends at the train station. Leon was convinced that there was a terrible injustice happening in America. The rich kept getting richer, and the poor getting poorer. The rich exploited the poor, leading to their continued bliss. Leon blamed the inequality on the structure of the government, but wasn't sure how to properly fight it. All these anarchists were just talk. He must be a man of action. Then, it came to him, in the form of a news story from Europe: King Umberto I of Italy had been assassinated by anarchist Gaetano Bresci. Bresci told the press after the assassination that he was taking matters into his own hands, for the people's sake. This pushed little Leon over the edge, though it galvanized the anarchist movement in America.

Anarchist had taken their toll on Europe, killing half a dozen officials and members of the Royal Houses. Fear began to spread in America of this new idealism. Even to identify yourself as an anarchist in New York was considered a breach of the peace. With Umberto's murder, there began to be a growing concern for the life of the president. Lincoln and Garfield had been assassinated within the last forty years, so who was to say that it couldn't happen again? Probably the person who feared this most was Secretary to the President, George B. Cortelyou. Cortelyou and members of the president's cabinet urged newly re-elected President William McKinley to please have some security around him. This wasn't going to happen. McKinley was too much of a man of the people! He couldn't be seen as a cold and distant president. In fact, this is why all the presidents didn't have security on them 24/7; they didn't want to seem out of touch. That would all change after McKinley was assassinated. From Theodore Roosevelt on, the President had Secret Service men with them whenever they were outside the White House, though Roosevelt constantly tried to lose them.

Leon moved to Buffalo, New York, for reasons unknown, though some historians speculate it was because of the large Polish population there. Leon heard that the President would be making a stop in Buffalo, and he knew this was his chance. He later told police that:

It was in my heart, there was no escape for me. I could not have conquered it had my life been at stake. There were thousands of people there on Tuesday. I heard it was President's Day. All those people seemed bowing to the great ruler. I made up my mind to kill that ruler.

Leon was convinced that the only way to solve things and bring back equality to America was to kill the tyrannical ruler of it: President McKinley. Was Leon right about there being a great inequality in America? Yes. Did he go about it the wrong way? Most definitely. Leon promptly went to buy a gun from a local store, a .32 caliber Iver Johnson to be exact. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to do it, but all he knew is that he had to get close to the president. McKinley's train arrived in Buffalo to a cannon salute from the city. The cannon ended up being to close to the train car and it blew out a bunch of the windows. People flipped out, assuming it was a bomb that went off, and starting screaming, "Anarchists!" McKinley was not unnerved and stepped off the train for his official welcome. Who was at the train station at that moment? None other than Leon. Leon pushed through the crowd once he saw the president step off the train, but the president was too well guarded for him to get a decent shot. Leon retreated. Part of the President's trip itinerary was to visit Niagara Falls, then the next day go to The Temple of Music at the Exposition grounds to meet the people. Cortelyou, his secretary, was extremely wary of McKinley's visit to The Temple of Music and tried to take it off the President's schedule twice, but the President put it back on each time. He had to meet the people! There was no need for alarm! McKinley even told Cortelyou that there was no need for concern, because no one would want to harm him. Cortelyou was not convinced of this and asked that there be extra security at the Exposition grounds.

The day before the public meeting at The Temple of Music, McKinley gave what was to be his last speech. In front of 50,000 fair-goers, McKinley talked of the end of isolationism and of new trade agreements that would allow US manufacturers new markets. Leon had arrived early that day and considered shooting the President during the speech, but Leon wasn't convinced he could get an accurate shot, especially with a bunch of people elbowing him. He gave it up for that day and headed off to his hotel room. Leon was confident that he would have his moment at The Temple of Music. McKinley arrived to the large auditorium to the "Star Spangled Banner" and prepared for his favorite part of the job: shaking hands. He was an experienced politician and could shake hands with fifty people a minute. That's pretty darn fast! McKinley was only allotted ten minutes to shake hands with people, something Cortelyou probably saw to. After five minutes, Cortelyou signaled for his men to close the doors and stop more people from coming in. The line stopped abruptly when 12-year old Myrtle Ledger, who was accompanied by her mother, asked if she could have the red carnation that McKinley always wore on his lapel. He accepted and let the young lady take his carnation. This is where things get a little spooky. That red carnation wasn't just any old carnation; it was his lucky red carnation that he never stopped wearing. I don't believe in luck, but this is a pretty crazy coincidence! A swarthy, nervous looking man was approaching McKinley now, and security started to get suspicious. They breathed a sigh of relief when the man shook the President's hand, and went on his way. The policy that all shaking hands with the President must have their hands open and free was not being enforced. It was terribly hot, and many people had handkerchiefs to wipe away the sweat. So nobody thought it odd when the next person after the swarthy man came up to the president with his right hand wrapped up. Probably presuming that the man had injured his hand, the President went to shake the man's left hand. When they touched hands, two shots rang out. The man was Leon Czolgosz. He had concealed the handgun in the bandages and got one good shot in the President's abdomen. The other shot just grazed him.

McKinley lurched forward and Leon attempted to shoot him a third time, but the man in line behind him promptly slammed into him, trying to get the gun out of his hand. Then Leon had a bunch of men on him, some punching him, some hitting him in the head with a rifle. Leon was heard saying, "I done my duty." McKinley was helped to a chair by Cortelyou and others and tried to convince them he wasn't badly hurt, though everyone could see he was bleeding profusely. McKinley observed the men giving Leon the beating of a lifetime and ordered them to stop, claiming that Leon obviously didn't know what he had just done. When Leon wouldn't stop looking at McKinley as he was being searched, Secret Service Agent Foster knocked him to the ground with one punch. McKinley was taken from the building in an electric-powered ambulance and on his way to the hospital pulled out the bullet that had grazed him. Lucky for him it had hit one of his buttons and barely hit him. The other bullet, however, would not be found at all. The hospital that McKinley ended up at had an area for surgery, but not a qualified doctor, only nurses and interns. The best doctor in the whole city, Dr. Roswell Park, was away at Niagara Falls performing a delicate neck operation and told messengers that he wouldn't leave the operation, even if it was for the President of the United States. He was told that was exactly who it was for, and Park attempted to finish up and get to the President. The only doctors on hand were Dr. Mynter and Dr. Mann, who gave McKinley a shot of morphine and attempted to find the bullet after giving the ailing President some ether. They opened him up and saw all the damage the bullet had done, but not the bullet itself. Dr. Mann guessed it had lodged itself in McKinley's back muscles and wouldn't do any harm. They stitched him up just in time for Dr. Park to show up. McKinley was woken up and taken to the Milburn House to recover.

The last known photo of President McKinley

Word had spread fast about the shooting and many feared that McKinley wouldn't survive the day. Cortelyou attempted to settle everyone's fears by reporting that McKinley was recovering well. This didn't satiate those who wanted revenge on Leon. An angry mob formed around the jail he inhabited and when they found out he was an anarchist, anyone known to be, or rumored to be an anarchist was sought out. This was happening all over the U.S., culminating in a man almost being lynched in Pittsburgh. Yeah, people go a little crazy when a ruler is assassinated. McKinley was doing well at the Milburn House. He was able to finally see his wife, and welcomed Cortelyou, Vice-President Roosevelt, his whole cabinet, and Senator Mark Hanna to visit. They all eventually left, feeling that McKinley would make a full recovery. Roosevelt must have been really confident the President would live, as he took a trip to the Adirondack Mountains. Roosevelt fumed that all Leon would get is ten years in prison for attempted murder. What everyone didn't know is that the inside of McKinley's stomach was slowly becoming gangrene, the usual cause of death for those shot in the stomach before advanced medicine. The President was dying, albeit slowly and with a ton of pain killer. A few days later, McKinley took a turn for the worse and Roosevelt was called back from the Adirondacks, where he was probably climbing the highest peak for the seventh time that day. McKinley started to fall in and out of consciousness. The doctors attempted to make him better, but he knew he was dying. He asked all those present to say a prayer with him and he (or Ida McKinley) sang his favorite hymn. Ida was removed from the room because she couldn't stop crying, and no one but McKinley's oldest friend, Mark Hanna was left. Hanna was just as distraught as anyone over what had befallen his friend, and was dismayed when McKinley didn't respond to his voice. William McKinley died at 2: 15 am on a Saturday, September 14th, 1901.

Dr. Mann and fourteen other doctors performed an autopsy to find where the bullet lay. The bullet had passed through his stomach, his transverse colon, and nicked his left kidney on its way to disappearing inside the peritoneum. Modern doctors speculate that McKinley was as good as dead the moment the bullet entered him. He is most likely to have died from pancreatic necrosis, something that is extremely hard to treat in this day in age, so the likelihood of him surviving then was slim to none. A death mask was made of McKinley's face, with a short service being held at the Milburn House. He was then moved to the County Hall in Buffalo for five days of national mourning. He was laid to rest in Canton, Ohio where there is now a memorial. McKinley's name is all over the place in not only Canton and Ohio, a state that has twenty schools named after him, but also states around the country. Mount McKinley, the highest point in all of North America is even named after him.

As soon as word got out that McKinley had died, Leon was transferred from jail to a penitentiary to await trial. Leon talked freely with his guards at the prison, but refused to talk to either of his two lawyers, or the psychiatrist sent to test his sanity. The fact that Leon refused to talk to his lawyers made their case a hard one to make. Leon even refused to defend himself in court! He literally just sat there and watched it all unfold. This is far different from Charles Guiteau's trial, where Guiteau turned the courthouse into a zoo (not literally, though that would have been awesome). One thing that was like Guiteau's trial was the defendant's lawyers trying to get an insanity plea. They begged the jury to acquit Leon of 1st degree murder and send him instead to an insane asylum. But it was not to be. The jury took one hour, then came back with the verdict: Guilty, and the sentence was death....by electrocution. Leon returned to Auburn Prison and was soon strapped into the last chair he would ever sit in. His last words were: "I killed the President because he was the enemy of the good people-the good working people. I am not sorry for my crime." Right before he was electrocuted he said through clenched teeth that he wish he could have seen his father one last time. Leon's brain was autopsied afterwards by scientists, probably to see if they could find the part of his grey matter that was crazy. He was buried in a simple black coffin in the prison grounds, though the hole was filled with sulfuric acid so the body would be completely eaten up. It was probably so no one would steal his bones later, but I'd like to believe that they were just keeping his ghost/zombie from coming back and wreaking havoc on the populace. Leon was only twenty-eight when he was sent to his death. This is a weird thought for me, since I'm very near that age, and it seems crazy that a person my age went and shot the president.

A couple things happened due to McKinley's death at the hand of Leon Czolgosz. The most important was the fact that now Theodore Roosevelt was President and it was going to take more than an anarchist with a gun to take him down. Roosevelt made sure there were new laws made against anarchist, though they lay dormant until WWI. America truly entered a new age when Roosevelt became President. Trust-busting, jingoist, environmental, imperialistic change! Things did not get better for anarchist, as you can imagine. Emma Goldman and anyone else Leon had conversed with in his travels were brought in and questioned. The government was convinced that Leon didn't act alone, though he himself claimed otherwise. All who were arrested were soon let go, though Goldman had to sit in jail for three weeks before she was let go. She sympathized with Leon, and that sympathy didn't make her popular, even with other anarchist. She would eventually be jailed and eventually deported to Russia in 1917 for apparently encouraging people not to register for the draft. The last thing that changed is something that I already talked about; the fact that the President had to have the Secret Service around at all times. The President had to deal with looking separate from the public; it was either that or potential death at any moment. The Temple of Music where the crime took place was torn down later that year, as was the rest of the Exposition. There is a marker in the middle of Fordham Drive showing the exact place where McKinley was shot. One last note on Leon Czolgosz: Lloyd Vernon Briggs reviewed Leon's case along with others who had histories of mental illness before they committed murder and found that Leon was no different. Judging from his anti-social behavior and inability to form relationships, there is a strong case that Leon was mentally ill, and had been for a very long time. He felt there was a large question of whether Leon could be held accountable for the President's death. That will remain a mystery to us, however, as we can't really dig Leon up and ask him questions. All it does is give us further questions on how we determine if a person can be held responsible for their actions when they have a history of mental illness.

Mardi Gras

Yeah! Wooo! Mardi Gras! Gonna go crazy and collect beads! Oh wait, I've never been to or celebrated a New Orleans Mardi Gras. I have been in New Orleans while it was going on though, and let me tell you...they didn't let us anywhere near Bourbon Street. It was a band trip, of course they weren't going to let us go nuts. Mardi Gras, or Fat Tuesday when translated to English from French, is the day where everyone indulges. Traditionally it's when people will eat fatty foods so as to prepare themselves for the Catholic tradition of Lent (where you are supposed to fast), which starts the next day on Ash Wednesday, but the American celebration has led to other indulgences. How did we get to masks, beads, nudity, and fatty foods? Well, let's go back a ways. *Cliche flashback noises and visuals*

According to New Orleans' city website and official sponsor of the colors purple, gold, and green, "the origins of Mardi Gras can be traced to medieval Europe, passing through Rome and Venice in the 17th and 18th centuries to the French House of the Bourbons. From here, the traditional revelry of 'Boef Gras,' or fatted calf, followed France to her colonies." In the late 1600's, our old friend, Jean Baptist Le Moyne Sieur de Bienville, landed south of New Orleans and, when the crew realized it was the eve of Mardi Gras, named it "Pointe du Mardi Gras." Bienville also established "Fort Louise de la Louisiane" (now called Mobile) in 1702. The following year, the town celebrated Mardi Gras for the first time in American history. A secret society soon sprouted up in 1710 called the "Boef Gras Society, which paraded through the city every Mardi Gras until 1861. Along with the parade would be a bull, a fake one used at first, that was draped in white, signaling the start of Lent. Bienville later established New Orleans in 1718, with Mardi Gras celebrations becoming a mainstay from the get-go. The governor of New Orleans decided that parades weren't enough for the holiday, and started the tradition of elegant balls being held.

Mystic societies began to form in New Orleans in the mid 1800's, the oldest being the Mistick Krewe of Comus. They cemented the tradition of a formal parade made up of costumed and masked people walking through the New Orleans streets every Mardi Gras. The parades became more and more elaborate over the years, with floats, bands, and street performers. Mardi Gras become synonymous with New Orleans, and vice versa. It wasn't just a French or Catholic thing now, as everyone in the city enjoyed the celebration. The celebrations helped give New Orleans its nickname, "The Big Easy." It has only been in the late 20th century that the whole beads and the showing of breasts became a tradition of sorts, catering to the spring break crowds and voyeurs who can't get enough of Girls Gone Wild videos.

Fat Tuesday is also called Shrove Tuesday, Shrove being the past tense of the word Shrive, which means "to confess." This follows the whole absolution for sins through confession. It follows the tradition of Mardi Gras in being a day where you eat a lot before you can't eat at all. Shrove Tuesday isn't a term that's widely used today, and if it is, it's only by certain countries. In the U.K., Ireland, Australia, New Zealand, and Canada, it's referred to as Pancake Day, a day in which the fatty food they eat is pancakes, obviously. Also popular in many European countries is the pancake run, in which people run through the streets with a pancake on a frying pan, flipping it up and catching it as they go. The tradition apparently comes from the story of a woman so busy with making pancakes that when the church bells rang, she ran out to the church with the frying pan with the pancake still in her hand. In Poland, hey traditionally celebrate Shrove Thursday, the Thursday before Ash Wednesday. Their traditional fatty food of choice is the Packzi (pronounced Poonch-key or Punch-key), a high fat jelly doughnut-like pastry. In America, the day is usually celebrated along with Mardi Gras, in cities where there are a large amount of Polish immigrants, namely Chicago, Buffalo, and the Detroit suburb of Hamtramck. I, myself am from metro Detroit, so Packzi's are something that are well known to me and my fellow south-east Michiganders (or Michiganians if you like). The Spanish and Portuguese celebrate Carnival instead of Mardi Gras, focusing on masquerades and parades. Probably the most famous example of this is the Brazilian Carnival in Rio De Janeiro.

All the foods that are consumed on Shrove Tuesday and Mardi Gras are typically made from rich foods such as eggs, milk, and sugar. Thus why most center around pancakes and pastries. Lent lasts for forty days and in that time people refrain from the finer indulgent foods such as meat, dairy, and eggs. Yikes, not sure I could go that long without those three things. In England, it used to be a big tradition to play football (not our version) on Shrove Tuesday, going back to the 12th century.  The tradition died out when the Highway Act of 1835 banned people from playing football on public highways. So, I guess people liked to play games in the road back in the day? Several towns in England have kept up the tradition, though I doubt they play on highways (they do play in blocked off roads though). That would be a European sport that I would watch!

In all, Mardi Gras is just a day where you get to be someone else by dressing up, eat pancakes or pastries, or run around in a parade. It's like having a huge party the day before your parent's are coming back from vacation, and since they never get pizza, you order...like...twenty. So, if you don't happen to be in the vicinity of New Orleans, or other southern towns that celebrate with parades, take some time to eat your heart out, even though if you aren't Catholic, you don't have to stop eating the fun stuff.

The Electoral College and You!

I'm not sure if I just didn't pay attention in class or if my teachers didn't quite hit the subject as hard as they should have, but I knew nothing about the voting process until a few years ago. OK, I wasn't completely in the dark, but I never knew what function the electoral college had. I just knew that we all voted, the votes were counted, and whoever got the most in that state got all the electoral votes. It's a little more confusing than that. When we cast our ballot, we are not voting for the president, but a person that will vote for the president. Confused yet? The electoral college is filled with a bunch of people that are assigned to each party. Let's say that Michigan votes Democrat again, as they have since 1992. The Democratic Party receives all the electoral votes for Michigan, which in this case is now 16. If you've been keeping track, our electoral number was 17 last election. The electoral numbers for each states are reassessed after every census, so it would make sense that our number would change from 2008 to 2012, seeing that the last census was in 2010. If you remember government class, then you'll remember that our representatives are based on the population of the state. You take that number, plus the amount of senators we have per state, which is two, and you have the amount of electoral votes your state has! The electoral number can be as high as it wants to be, the current champion being California with fifty-five. The lowest a state can get, however, is three. Washington D.C., per the 23rd Amendment, is allotted the same amount of electoral votes as the lowest electoral number state, which is three. It does not matter if the population of D.C. is greater than Wyoming, it will always be three.

Anyway, so Michigan's popular vote shows that it has voted for Barack Obama let's say, so the Democratic Party is now allowed to cast its votes for Barack Obama. Seems kind of redundant, right? Why not just have it to where we just vote for the president and not for an elector? Well, way back when they were setting up how to vote for president, they realized that the states with little to no population would basically have no voice in who was elected. If there are 500,000 people in New York, but only 20,000 in Vermont, whose voice is going to be heard? The founders decided the best way would be to have an electoral college decide the president instead of a popular vote, as to give small states a bit more power in deciding who would lead them. The bigger reason for the electoral college, however, was slavery. Slavery basically dictated how all our documents were finalized, as the Constitution and even the Declaration of Independence had to delete anything that was critical of slavery lest they offend the south and not get both documents accepted. The mode of electing the president went the same way. Though men like James Wilson and James Madison preferred choosing the President by way of popular vote, Madison himself realized that "it would be difficult to get consensus on the proposal given the prevalence of slavery in the South." The population of the North at that time greatly outnumbered the South, so any election would favor the North. That is, unless the we had let African-Americans vote, but that wasn't going to happen at that time. There was no winning for the South unless we went to an elector system. So, in a roundabout way, you can blame our electoral process on slavery.

Who can be an elector in the electoral college? Well, it is usually people that are well connected inside of their respected party. It really matters on what state you belong to. In most, electors are nominated by their state political party months before the election. Other states nominate the electors in primaries, similar to how presidents are selected. Other states, such as Oklahoma, Virginia, and North Carolina nominate electors at party conventions. There is a stipulation that no representative or senator can be an elector, nor anyone who has sworn allegiance to the United States and then rebelled. That last part was more for all those who took part in the confederacy, though Congress could reinstate them to be an elector if they receive two-thirds vote in both houses. Now here comes the messed up part about the whole process. As an elector, you can cast your ballot for whomever you want. If you are a Democrat and decide to betray your party by voting Republican, you can. In other words. there is a weird way in which all the electors in your state could totally change what the majority wanted. These people are called Faithless Electors. The faithless are few and far between and most happen by accident, due to writing in the wrong name, or choosing the vice president nominee's name for president and vice-versa. There have been a few times where electors have defied their party and voted for another candidate on purpose. In the 2000 election, Barbara Lett-Simmons, a elector from D.C. did not submit her vote at all, though she was pledged to Al Gore and Joe Lieberman, due to D.C.'s lack of representation in Congress. In 1972, Roger MacBride decided not to vote for Richard Nixon and Spiro Agnew and instead voted for Libertarians John Hospers and Theodora Nathan. There are many more, and can be seen here. Many states, including my state of Michigan, have a law punishing faithless electors, though no one has ever been tried. Besides a law in some states, what keeps people from stabbing their party in the back? Well, if you decide to be a faithless elector, you can kiss your political aspirations goodbye. It is literally political suicide. You probably couldn't even find a place with the party you defied your old one for, as you would be marked as unreliable.

So, a short review. You cast your ballot, you are actually voting for an elector, you hope and pray elector actually votes for who they say they will vote for, we all count electoral votes, first one to 270 wins. One last little note about the electoral votes: Maine and Nebraska do not go by winner takes all. They assign an elector to each district and they vote which way they want. This is a fairly recent thing for both states and neither have ever split their electoral votes. Now, there are a few people that don't like the way we elect the president. And by that, I mean most people. There are a large amount of people who believe that we should decide the president by popular vote. This comes from the times that the president has received enough electoral votes, but didn't have the most popular votes. That literally means that more people in the country wanted one president, but somehow, the other got elected. Silly, huh? This has happened three times, in 1876, 1888, and 2000. We all remember 2000 and saw for ourselves how the electoral college kind of failed us. Another thing that could happen, but has only happened once is a deadlocked election. In 1824, nobody received the minimum amount to be president. Andrew Jackson received the most electoral and popular votes, but it wasn't enough. Per the 12th amendment, the House of Representatives had to decide. Henry Clay, who ran, but since he came in fourth place was not allowed to be considered anymore. Clay was a member of the House and used his influence to give not Jackson the presidency, but John Quincy Adams. See the problem? Now, we are basically stuck in a two party system, so I don't see this happening again, but you never know what the future holds.

Another argument against the electoral college is the amount of time the nominees focus on swing states and forget the rest. States like Texas, New York, and California have voted a certain way for a very long time, and thus don't warrant much attention from the candidates (The maps on the left show the amount of visits each candidate made in the last five weeks of the election in 2004 via hands, and each dollar sign is a million dollars spent on advertisements . Michigan, Iowa, Florida, Ohio, and Pennsylvania, among others, to warrant attention. Lots of attention. These states can go either way, and they all have a good amount of electoral votes, so they are the ones that the candidates focus on. Small states, like the big three I mentioned before, are also ignored, for they are basically split down the middle how they vote, plus who cares about three measly electoral votes when you can get twenty? In turn, voter turnout suffers in those states that are ignored due to their heavily entrenched political identity. Why vote if you know how your state is going to vote? Proponents argue that the popular vote would give people a reason for going out to vote, as they would feel more like they are making a difference. I agree with this, as we should be encouraging all people to vote, not just those that are in swing states.

There are those that do support the electoral system, however. Those who do claim that if we decided the president by popular vote, the only places that would matter would be high volume areas like cities, and therefore rural areas would lose their say. Proponents also claim that the electoral system benefits smaller states and minorities. Minorities, who might not be heard in a popular vote, can make a difference in a electoral system. A more unusual pro for the electoral system is that if an elected president dies, the electoral college could decide on another for us, instead of us putting in a dead person. That seems a little unusual and unlikely, so I don't buy that one. I honestly don't think the electoral college is going anywhere, barring a huge election faux pas. There have been many times where someone has tried to submit an amendment to the Constitution that would change all this, but as you can see, they have all been shot down. I honestly think both sides make some good points, and no election process is perfect, but it does seem like there is more going for the popular vote. That is just my opinion, so take it or leave it. Sorry this post was a little dry. Like Sahara dry, but I thought it would be useful to some if they knew how voting worked in our political system. No matter what, please go out and vote tomorrow, mostly because you can. Some may argue that your vote doesn't count in the long run, and they may be correct. But, so many others around the world don't have what we have, so we should be taking advantage of our freedom, not looking at it with cynicism.

Day of the Dead

I've talked about All Hollows Eve and All Saints Day quite a bit in my Halloween post, but I've never mentioned the holiday that is basically those two wrapped into one sugar skull: Dia De Los Muertos, also known as the Day of the Dead. The Day of the Dead is celebrated every year on November 1st, corresponding with All Saints Day, and is primarily celebrated in Mexico. When people call this "Mexican Halloween," they are incorrect, as Mexicans, and others who celebrate the Day of the Dead, do take part in Halloween as well. The holiday focuses on the gathering of families and friends to pray for and remember friends and family members who have died. Sounds a little bit like the early celebrations of All Saints Day, right? Well it's a little different. Let me start off with the holidays origin.

Like Halloween, the Day of the Dead can be traced back to pagan beliefs. Like their European counterparts,  the indigenous culture had rituals honoring their ancestors. The difference is that in present day Latin America, they had a fixation with human remains. Skulls to be exact. The skulls of family members were kept as trophies and displayed during rituals to symbolize death and rebirth. The festival, according to the Aztec calender, kicked off in early August and lasted throughout the month. The festivities were also dedicated to the "Lady of the Dead," a goddess that corresponds with the modern Catrina. La Calvera Catrina (The Elegant Skull) was a 1910 etching by Jose Guadalupe Posada. It has become a staple image for the holiday, much like the Jack-O-Lantern for Halloween, or Santa Claus for Christmas.

In the modern day, the populace still celebrates their dead, but they don't carry around the skulls of their ancestors. Well, hopefully nobody does. The day is still very personal though. People go to their relative's grave-sites, clean them up a few days before November 1st, and when the day comes, they visit again bringing the deceased favorite things, like food and beverages, and even build private altars. People have also been known to bring photos of the person they are mourning, or memorabilia that belonged to them. This is all to encourage that relative's soul to visit you and you can have your time with them. It's all about honoring their dead and remembering them. I just don't feel like we have the same connection in our culture. How many of us go out of our way to visit our relative's graves and just chat with them for awhile, remembering them and maybe leaving them a few flowers? I may be wrong, but I think our culture is too busy for that sort of thing anymore.

Anyway, another tradition of the day is bringing an offering of some sort to your relative, which often includes orange Mexican marigolds called cempasuchil. The name is sometimes replaced with Flor de Muerto, which means Flower of the Dead. The flowers are thought to attract the souls to the offering. The offerings vary depending on what age the dead relative is. If it is a dead child, then you would leave them an offering of toys. If it is an adult, however, you would leave, what else? Alcohol! Offerings are also left outside the home and range from candy skulls, which is one of the more popular offerings, to alcohol and spiced pumpkin. People believe that the souls eat the essence of these food and drink offerings, so that when we as humans consume the products afterwards, they hold no nutritional value. That makes...sense? Pillows and blankets are also left out so the spirits can rest from their long journey. Families will even go as far as camping out at their relative's gravestone all night. Altars are not just made inside the home or at graveyards, but are such a part of Mexican heritage that classrooms on all levels build their own altars and leave offerings for the dead, the same going for government buildings, though they are usually smaller. While some would put the holy cross or a picture of the Virgin Mary in their altars at home, it is not done at schools or places of work.

Skulls are by far the most common symbol attributed to the holiday. People wear skull masks called calacas and make skulls out of sugar or chocolate. The sugar skulls have their recipients name etched in the back and are given to both the living and the dead. I remember our Spanish Club selling skull lollipops during this day and I'm guessing this was the closest they could come to a skull made out of sugar. Catrina is also a huge part of the day, as people put pictures up of her everywhere. The Day of the Dead is in no way universally celebrated the same way. That goes for inside of Mexico also, as many towns have different customs and some traditions have been dropped altogether. In cities especially, and in certain parts of Mexico, many of the traditions have faded away and instead have been replaced by a Halloween tradition: Trick-or-Treating. Kids dress up and go around asking for treats or money, even asking people passing them on the street. Sounds basically like a more intense version of our Halloween tradition.

The Day of the Dead is celebrated in many other areas of the world, mostly ones with large Catholic populations, as The Day of the Dead is basically part of the Catholic All Saints Day and All Souls Day. The tradition of leaving flowers and gifts at graves once a year is in no way specific to just the Mexican culture and those of the Catholic faith. Many other cultures honor their dead in a similar fashion and take time to remember their ancestors. America also celebrates the Day of the Dead, but it's mostly done in states with high concentrations of people from Latin American countries. Like I have said before, I think that we need to make this a part of our culture in some way. I just feel like we need to take the time to honor those who came before us and those that meant a lot to us while they were alive. So, even if you aren't from a country that celebrates the Day of the Dead, take some time out of your day to remember someone you lost. Also, take time to eat some candy skulls, because that sounds delicious.

Santa Anna's Chewing Gum

Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, or just Santa Anna, was the on again off again military leader and president of Mexico in the mid 1800's. OK, you all remember the Alamo, right? Well he was the Mexican general that totally wailed on the Texans and took the Alamo. After the fact he executed over two-hundred prisoners and did basically the same thing at Goliad. This embittered the Texas soldiers who finally defeated Santa Anna at San Jacinto. The Texans found Santa Anna hiding in a trench and forced him to sign Texas away from Mexico, making it a sovereign nation (yes, Texas was its own country for nine years). Mexico City claimed that Santa Anna was not president anymore and therefore the treaty was null and void. This eventually led to the Mexican-American War, but I'll get to that soon. Santa Anna was exiled for his failure and spent some time in America. It was only when the French tried to force Mexico to pay them did the country plea for Santa Anna to come back. Santa Anna fought bravely in the Pastry War and for his troubles he lost a leg. He worked his way back into politics due to his rekindled hero status and became president again. Then he made a lot of bad decisions and had to step down because he feared for his life. He was captured and his life spared, though he was exiled in Cuba. Then, America decided to pick a fight with Mexico over the disputed land of Texas and Mexico again needed its military leader. Anna took over again as military leader and tried unsuccessfully to fend of the American forces. He was once again exiled and this time, it stuck.

Fast forward to 1866 where Santa Anna is living in Staten Island, NY. Sounds funny already, right? Since when does America let it's old enemy leaders just hang out in their country? Well, at that time he was 72, and no one really thought of him a threat anymore. Santa Anna apparently didn't grasp the English language very well because he required the services of an interpreter named James Adams. Adams noticed that the old general would constantly cut slices from an unknown tropical vegetable and place the pieces in his mouth. He was told by the general that the vegetable was called "chicle." Santa Anna left New York later that year and when he did, he granted Adam's request to gain his stock of chicle. Adams then began experimenting with the substance, adding different sweetening agents to bolster the flavor. Soon he had "invented" chewing gum. When Adams introduced his new product to the American public, he found a willing and hungry market. Adams went on to found the Adams Chewing Gum Company, the company that came out with the original Chiclets. Adam's company is now owned by Cadbury. So, in a weird way, we might not have had our many varieties of chewing gum had it not been for a crazy multi-deposed military dictator. 

The Kidnapping of Charles Lindbergh, Jr.

When one thinks of famous aviators, Charles Lindbergh usually comes up. Lindbergh went from obscurity to instant stardom when he made his non-stop flight from Long Island, NY to Paris France in his little plane that could, The Spirit of St. Louis. He won the Orteig Prize and the Medal of Honor (he was a U.S. Army Air Corps Reserve officer) for the flight, and used his fame to promote commercial aviation and the use of air mail. As famous as Lindbergh is for his flying feat, it is almost completely eclipsed by the kidnapping and eventual murder of his infant son, Charles Augustus Lindbergh, Jr. in 1932.

Junior, as I will refer to him from now on, was only 20 months old when he was spirited away from his nursery room. Betty Gow, the Lindbergh's nursemaid had just put the Junior down in his crib and left him to sleep. When she returned shortly after to check up on Junior, she wasn't able to find the tightly swaddled baby. Worried but not panicked, she checked with both Lindbergh parents whom she suspected had possession of the child. When neither did, that's when the panic set in. Charles searched the nursery and found a white envelope on the radiator. The police were called and they, along with the media and the Lindbergh's attorney, rushed to the Lindbergh house. Upon investigation, police found only a short section of tire tracks in the mud, and sections of a makeshift ladder that was ditched into the bushes. A fingerprint expert arrived on the scene and attempted to find any solid fingerprints on the envelope or the ladder, but both proved fruitless. The envelope was spotless, and thanks to all the handling from the police and media, the ladder had over 400 partial prints on it. Things were not off to a good start.
Police opened the envelope shortly after and found a brief handwritten letter that was riddled with spelling and grammatical mistakes. In it, the kidnappers asked for $50,000 dollars in different variations of bills, and the usual requests not to involve the media or the police. The note reassured the Lindbergh's that Junior was safe, and that they would know the kidnapper's letters by the mark located below the message (said mark is shown above). Word spread quickly, and the Lindbergh's were flooded with well-wishers and old friends who had ideas of their own on who had kidnapped the baby. Charles's friends were absolutely sure that the mob had something to do with it, so they set out to get answers from people who knew people in the mob. This all led to high profile gangsters trying to make money off the whole thing, most notably Al Capone, who offered his services in exchange for money and the opportunity to be let out of prison. Authorities were not fooled and turned him down.

After President Herbert Hoover found out about the kidnapping, a lot more enforcement agencies became involved in the search to find "Little Lindy." The New Jersey police put out a $25,000 reward for the safe return of the child, which was made all the more enticing when the Lindbergh's added a reward of their own: $50,000. 75 grand is a pretty good chunk of money now, but in the early days of the depression, that was something worth devoting your time to. The Lindbergh's received a second note from the kidnappers a few days later and gave it to Charles's friend to give to his "mob connections" instead of the police. The "mob connections" ended up being lackeys of the newspaper The Daily News, and soon copies of the note were being sold on street corners for five bucks a pop. All ransom letters received after this one were now automatically suspect. Another letter came to the Lindbergh's and like the the first one sent by mail, it was from Brooklyn. The New York City Police Commissioner, Ed Mulrooney, wanted to get a group of police together to try and devise a way to pinpoint where the letters were coming from and raid the area. Charles feared for the life of his baby and declared that if Mulrooney went ahead with any such plan, he'd use his influence to ruin his career. Mulrooney backed down. A third letter arrived, again from Brooklyn, this one declaring that the police had now been involved, so the ransom would be raised to $70,000.

Here's where things get interesting. A well-known Bronx personality named John Condon wrote an open letter to the Bronx Home News and told them he was willing to help the Lindbergh's in any way possible and would add an extra thousand dollars of his own money to the reward. Condon, or Jafsie (a phonetic pronunciation of Condon's initials) as he was also known, was sent a letter supposedly from the kidnappers who must have seen his letter in the Bronx Home News. In the letter, they expressed their desire for Condon to be the intermediary between them and the Lindbergh's. Condon then put out an ad in New York American that the money was ready, per the kidnappers instructions. Condon eventually met with a representative of the kidnappers, though he couldn't see his face, as he stayed in the shadows. The person claimed that he was Scandinavian and was part of a gang of three men and two women. The baby was safe and on a boat, but they weren't ready to give the baby up and receive the ransom. Condon expressed doubt that the man and his associates even had the baby, to which the man responded that they would soon send the baby's sleeping pajamas as proof. The man then asked Condon in a roundabout way if he would be executed if the baby were dead. This unsettled Condon, but the man assured him that the baby was still alive. Sure enough, after the meeting, Condon received the baby's pajamas. He took them to Charles to get validation, and got it. The mysterious Scandinavian gang had the Lindbergh's baby. Condon later received a letter that the gang was ready to receive the ransom.

The ransom was put into a small wooden box, and was made out of Gold Certificates, in the hopes that either the box could be identified later, or the Gold Certificates could be tracked easier than the everyday notes. Condon and Charles followed the kidnappers notes to several different areas in Manhattan. After a long wild goose chase, they were sent to St. Raymond's Cemetery where Condon encountered whom he thought was the same man from the other night, given the pseudonym "John." "John" accepted the money from Condon, though Condon told him they could only come up with $50,000. "John" got away, as Charles had insisted that no police be involved. The note given to Condon told them that the baby was on the boat called Nelly at Martha's Vineyard. The child was in the care of two women whom "John" claimed were innocent. Condon and Charles scoured the piers at Martha's Vineyard, but never saw a boat called Nelly. Lindbergh even got into a plane and flew low over the area in an attempt to scare the kidnappers out of hiding. But it was all for naught. Charles realized that he had been tricked.

Nearly two months after Junior had been kidnapped, a delivery truck driver pulled his car to the side of the road about five miles from the Lindbergh's house. As he went into the trees to take a leak, he discovered the corpse of a toddler. The trucker contacted the police, who then took the body to nearest morgue in Trenton, NJ. The body was badly decomposed and it appeared the infant had suffered a significant head injury. The left leg and hands were missing, and there were signs that the infant had been chewed on by animals as it lay in the woods. They could also tell that someone had tried to hastily bury him. The nursemaid Gow and Charles were brought in to identify the baby. They could tell by the overlapping toes and the shirt Gow had made for him that it really was Charles, Jr. It was surmised by all present that it was a blow to the head that had ended Junior's short life. Charles insisted on having the baby cremated afterward.

The kidnapping had far reaching effects that we all kind of assume were around forever. At the time, kidnapping was considered a local crime, and it was in no way the Bureau of Investigation's job to get involved. However, once Congress heard the baby was found dead, they shot a bill through that made kidnapping a federal crime. Now the FBI could get involved right quick. The whole tracking the money idea eventually paid off, as they found someone in possession of a portion of the ransom bills in 1934. The man, Bruno Hauptmann, was a German immigrant with a record in his home country. After Hauptmann was arrested, the police searched his house and found over $12,000 of the ransom money hidden behind boards and in a can in the garage. Hauptmann was interrogated throughout the day and night that followed and was beaten at least once. Hauptmann claimed that he was given the money by an old associate of his who owed him. The associate, who had moved back to Germany, had died earlier in year, however. Hauptmann claimed he had no idea where his associate got the money and furthermore claimed that he had nothing at all to do with the kidnapping. Additional evidence was found that made the case against Hauptmann even more damning. The exact same wood used for the ladder, plus plans for the ladder were found in the house. Hauptmann even had Condon's address and phone number written down on a closet wall in the house. Hauptmann was charged with both murder and extortion. Handwriting and fingerprint experts, on top of Condon and Charles took the stand against Hauptmann. Evidence was even put forward that suggested that Hauptmann had dropped the baby when getting it out of the Lindbergh's house, and Junior had been dead from the beginning of the kidnapping. In the end, Hauptmann was sentenced to death and was sent to the electric chair in 1936. Interestingly enough, Hauptmann had the chance to get life instead of being put to death. All he had to do was confess. Nothing doing. He pledged his innocence to the end. Hauptmann wouldn't even give newspaper tycoon, William Randolph Hearst, the satisfaction of writing his own confession in Hearst's paper for $90,000 and life in prison.

The legend of the kidnapping lives on today. People still write books about the "Crime of the Century," some claiming that Hauptmann was actually innocent, and some calling those people nuts and revisionists. In 2005, the show Forensic Files studied the evidence with newer technology and came up with the same conclusion: Hauptmann had done it. The newer movie J. Edgar features the baby kidnapping as a backdrop, and several other movies and shows have alluded to the criminal act. All involved suffered due to the incident. Condon was made out to be a suspect for the two years after the baby was found and before Hauptmann was discovered. The Lindbergh's eventually went into a "voluntary exile," sneaking off on a boat to Europe so they could be spared the public hysteria that was still revolving around their dead son. The Lindbergh's did not come back to the states until 1939. Questions are still unanswered about the case since Hauptmann never confessed. Why would someone choose the Lindbergh family to get a ransom out of? Did Hauptmann accidentally kill the baby, or did he do it on purpose later on? Another mystery among thousands in American history. 

Innovators Over Inventors

Well it's been about six months now since my last post. I'd like to say that it was because I was so busy trying to get a teaching job, or that I was busy getting married, but it's simply not true. I just haven't really had anything pressing to write about. I haven't been reading many history books or come across any interesting stories. Plus, I just haven't made time for this blog, as it seems to be the least popular of the three I have. Be that as it may, I still love doing this, and I'll keep doing this until for some reason I can't anymore. That being said, I'll get onto today's subject. Something that I've noticed while reading snippets of history, or by visiting museums, is that we all seem to value innovators, but not inventors. The real kick in the teeth is that we still label them inventors. List off a few inventors that you know off the top of your head. Go ahead, I'll wait. Who did you come up with? Did Edison, Ford, Bell, and the Wright Brothers come up? They didn't invent jack. They did however innovate said things they are known for. Edison gave the electric light its long lasting filament, Ford made the car easy to build and affordable with the assembly line, Bell made the telephone practical, and the Wright Brothers had film and knew how to market themselves. If you walked up to any average Joe and asked them who invented the light bulb, they would say Edison. Sure they'd be wrong, but nobody cares about Humphrey Davy and his first use of an incandescent bulb. He may have "invented" the light bulb, but he sure as hell didn't make it practical.

History is a fickle thing. I've known this for quite some time, but ever since I became a full fledged history nerd, it's been hitting me more often. People only remember those who have basically forced history to remember them. Two things happened to all the so called inventors; either they invented an impractical idea that had potential, or they didn't know how to market their practical idea. Light bulbs, telephones, and cars are all great ideas, but they all started out really impractically. Light bulbs wouldn't stay lit for long at all, telephones hardly worked at all, and cars took a really long time to make and were pretty dang expensive. It took Edison, Bell, and Ford to change the face of these inventions, and in the process, make them their own. Several men claimed to have had successful flights in heavier than air machines before the Wright Brothers in 1903, but even if they did, they lacked something very important: proof. The Wright Brothers were the first ones to get one going and to have photo proof of it. Plus they patented the hell out of the plane design. If you couldn't work the patent system back then, you lost. That's why Edison has so many claims on so many inventions. He knew how to work the system, and there's probably a few inventions of his that aren't even his at all.

When anyone thinks of an MP3 player, they think of an Ipod. Plain and simple. Did Steve Jobs invent the MP3 player? No, but he made an extremely attractive and practical one. Apple knows how to market their products, which is why tablets and MP3 players that are not Apple are almost always considered inferior. Who invented the MP3 player? Who cares, because we have someone that gave us the perfect end product. We celebrate Jobs, Gates, Ford, and Edison, not the no names who truly invented the products. So, if you do end up inventing something, please patent the hell out of it quick, and make sure its so awesome that no one will even try to make it better because it is truly at the zenith. That's right, I finally used zenith in a sentence. Oh, and prepare for lawsuits, because that's exactly what all of the innovators had to go through. People like Bell, Edison, the Wright Brothers, and Eli Whitney all had to go through long court battles just to keep their names in the history book. Oh, and one last thing: Al Gore did not invent the internet, apparently that British guy in the opening ceremony of the Olympics did. So, mystery solved.