Saturday, December 15, 2012

Indexes and other Connections: Weeks 14-15


In my most recent blog post I embedded a video from the 1973 Charlton Heston film Soylent Green. The plot of the aforesaid film revolves around police investigator (Heston) pursuing a mysterious death in an over-populated, over-polluted New York City in a similarly overwhelmed world where human life is cheap and food shortages forced the population into the hands of the Soylent Corporation that produces colored food rations. The titular green rations are allegedly made of “high energy” plankton harvested from the ocean. Heston’s investigation however proves that the oceans are essentially dead and learns what Soylent Green is…

 

Oh—I forgot to write “SPOILER ALERT!” No, I didn’t. At this point the climax of Soylent Green joins “[Luke,] I am your father” and the culmination of events stemming from “I see dead people” in most commonly known movie twists.

I reason I selected that scene from the above film involves a mistake I made during my research into William M’Neir. Hopefully the title of the video was not too confusing; I seriously considered omitting it because the uploader, rather than determine its aboutness, plucked a line spoken at the end of that apartment sequence. The aboutness of that scene was that dystopian society’s definition of “furniture.”

While I was researching the 1829-1851 chattel record index for high value portable property M’Neir bought or sold, I found one reference to Liber WSG 1 folio 460 (location 1/1/08/3) described as a mortgage involving furniture. In this case it was a mortgage loan to M’Neir that used furnishings as collateral. Since I was not writing a complete history of this man’s financial transactions, I did not plan to follow up on the reference and instead focus on transactions with keywords like “printing press” or “negroes.” A found a few of those and followed up. I started reading what I thought was Liber WSG 2 folio 43 (location 1/1/08/04) but found an unrelated chattel record in its place. Checking the years the surrounding indentures were recorded, I realized I selected WSG 1 instead. I shrugged my shoulders and carefully turned the 180 year old, 15 x 12 inch pages to folio 460 and the furniture mortgage; to my shock I discovered that, before any furniture is specified, a slave named Wesley Anderson is included in the mortgage. Since the index spells out the chattel involved in the indenture whether they be slaves (“negroes”), furniture, or professional equipment, this exclusion of Wesley implies one of two things: 1) The clerk creating the index made a mistake or 2) there was an expectation or practice of excluding a single slave caught up in a larger chattel deal.

The scene from Soylent Green that I chose for last week’s post occurs after Heston’s character and his boss casually wonder what will happen to the deceased person’s “furniture.” Although “key money” in New York to buy furniture and rent-controlled housing from a previous tenant is not unusual, its prominence in a conversation between police investigators is noticeably unnecessary. In this case the furniture is a beautiful woman who happens to come with the apartment and, reflecting the social and emotional needs of us all, is having a get-together with her fellow furniture friends. This officially sanctioned prostitution is not looked down upon but looked up to since the people in these homes regularly have ice, cigarettes, and fresh food.

The Legacy of Slavery in Maryland project reveals these cultural and economic differences that would seem anathema to the value and inherent dignity we place in humanity.

Mayor’s Living Landmarks Awards, 2012

 On Thursday December 13, I attended the Living Landmarks Awards in Dahlgren Hall at the United States Naval Academy. The building interior reminded me of Armory and Gymnasium at the University of Wisconsin—Madison, which was converted from a basketball court (on the second floor no less) to office space. Dahlgren seems to host ceremonial functions and generic gym activities. When Esther and I arrived at the ceremony on the second floor mezzanine we looked down at the court-sized hole below: We saw students practicing fencing and others doing tumbling or cheerleading exercises.

Representatives from City of Annapolis Heritage Commission, the United States Naval Academy, and the mayor himself opened the ceremony and shared this 19 minute video about the honorees and their work.


Esther immediately recognized the voice of honoree George Phelps, Jr. who narrated portions of the film “Pip & Zastrow: An American Friendship”; it’s a story about the lifelong friendship of the white Mayor of Annapolis Roger “Pip” Moyer and the black ne’er-do-well Zastrow Simms and their successful efforts to quell Annapolis the race riots in the wake of the Martin Luther King, Jr. assassination. The film mostly concerns Zastrow and his family’s reaction to Pip’s Alzheimers disease but naturally goes into the historical context of their friendship. Esther and I met the co-creator Vicki Bruce during her showing of an unrelated movie at the Wisconsin Film Festival, which Esther helped coordinate.
 
Honorees included Jim Cheevers, USNA historian, associate director, and curator of the USNA Museum; the Annapolis History Consortium, a volunteer association of professional historians, preservationists, and city residents interested in researching and the documentation/promotion of Annapolis history; the aforesaid George Phelps, Jr., who, in addition to the efforts of Pip & Zastrow, threatened a crowd of potential arsonists with a dummy grenade; and Orlando Rideout V. Mr. Rideout was an exceptional closer.

Using a recent low-grade controversy over the city’s $15,000 purchase of equipment and training for a device that will only be used to remove well heeled gum from bricks on the streets and sidewalks of Annapolis, Rideout, who comes from a long line of Annapolis residents and scholars including one with a street named after him, emphasized the importance of Annapolis’ architectural history and its place in the timeline of America. He was teased earlier about his love of bricks but he embraced the gentle fun and criticized the city’s recent inconsistencies with brick paving. After praising the 1995 Main Street restoration (which will see substantial attention from the gum gun) he explained that, sadly, some of the worst examples of these brick abuses are in front of City Hall itself; as someone who passes that building twice a day, and hates gum even when it’s on substandard pavement, I found myself smiling and gently nodding to myself.

A welcome surprise of the evening happened when I discovered that Jane McWilliams, the researcher who was instrumental in my research of William M’Neir, was a member of the Annapolis History Consortium and therefore a co-honoree. We chatted for nearly twenty minutes. We talked about my research, how spelling M’Neir’s name “McNier” instead of “McNeir” in Archives of Maryland Online search engine uncovered transcripted documents and indices revealing property foreclosures in 1849/1850, how Esther and I were enjoying Annapolis, and Esther’s acting background. Jane’s eyes lit up at this last piece of news; she explained that the consortium (or another group with which she was affiliated—I’m not sure) was repeating their sesquicentennial interpretation of Civil War documents in April 2013 and, since they found more 1863/2013 documents for female roles than they did for 1862/2012, would Esther be interested in performing. The answer was an unconditional yes.

The world of Annapolis scholars and history buffs is a small, dedicated group with deep ties to the area. The designated speaker of the Annapolis History Consortium joked that he was a newcomer to Annapolis since he only just moved here 40 some years ago. These jokes, corroborated by others, tell me that personal connections are even more crucial here than elsewhere.

Alex Champion—Maryland State Archives

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