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
