Thursday, July 31, 2014

United States vs. Shipp

I'm blogging while a technician installs the digital TV service. One of the things you have to deal with when you move is old magazines.  Betsey has a small collection of an interesting magazine called Oxford American which specializes in "good writing about the South." The little pile of copies from the year 2000 hasn't been disposed of yet, and I found myself reading the Jan/Feb 2000 issue while eating breakfast this morning. And I found in it a fascinating article about what was then a new book  titled Contempt of Court: The Turn-of-the-Century Lynching That Launched 100 Years of Federalism, by Mark Curriden and LeRoy Phillips, Jr. (Fisher and Fisher, 2000).

This is about the only criminal trial ever held by the Supreme Court, a truly historic trial. It involved a black man, Ed Johnson, who was accused and convicted on raping a young white woman in Chattanooga, TN in 1906. The victim was unsure of Johnson's identify, a dozen witnesses testified that he was not anywhere near the location of the attack that night, and Johnson passionately affirmed his innocence, but an all-white jury convicted him nevertheless and he was to be hanged. His father went to a local black attorney, asking for an appeal, and against all odds, the case ended before the Supreme Court, where Justice Harlan accepeted to hear the case, and his fellow-justices agreed that there had been serious flaws in the trial, and the highest court in the land issued a stay of execution, pending a hearing. The local Sheriff, Joseph Shipp, who was charged with the safety of Johnson in is jail, pending his execution, received the telegram from the Supreme Court, was enraged that the Court had intervened in local affairs, discharged his deputies, moved Johnson into a cell away from other prisoners, and conspired to allow a lynch mob to enter the jail. The mob did pull Johnson from his cell, and hung him from a bridge. When news of his lynching reached Washington, D.C., it was the Court's turn to be enraged, as well as President Theodore Roosevelt. To make a long, fascinating story short, the Supreme Court charged Sheriff Shipp and several others with denial of Johnson's constitutional rights for due process and held a trial - the only such trial ever held by the Supreme Court - and they were found guilty. Unfortunately, the defendants only served a few months at best, and Shipp returned to Chattanooga where he received a hero's welcome! But what a story!

One of the local heroes was a Baptist Minister, Dr. Howard E. Jones, who preached a sermon condemning the lynching, and had his house burned for his outspokenness.

My father came to Chattanooga as a young minister 20 years after this event. My brother, Stewart, was born in Chattanooga in 1927. I have to think that dad was aware of this case, and it's very possible that Dr. Jones was still alive and perhaps even known to him, though Jones was a Baptist and dad was a Congregationalist. I have to believe that he would have admired his courage.

A Sermon on Lynching
[A sermon delivered at the First Baptist Church in Chattanooga on March 25, 1906 (the Sunday following the lynching of Ed Johnson) by Dr. Howard E. Jones.  The First Baptist Church was Chattanooga's largest and most established church.  Its congregation was white. The Thursday night after Reverend Jones delivered his courageous sermon, his house was set on fire.]
 
Is Lawlessness a Cure for Crime?

"Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap."

The white man rules in this community. I am using an old phrase, oft used by you, when I affirm that he always has and he always will. The honor of rule involves a burden of responsibility. If the white man rules and this community is condemned with a charge of anarchy and lawlessness, then the white man must face the responsibility. It is not enough for us to say that the responsibility rests entirely upon the officers of the law, because they are only our creatures. Our votes placed them in office and by our support they hold their positions.

Let us now briefly consider the events of last Monday night. They are not pretty, nor poetic. Some fifty or more men, presuming upon the oft expressed fear of a mob and impatient of law and order went to our jail. With evidence of carefully premeditated program, they took the keys away from the one man who was to defend Chattanooga's honor. But owing to their haste to get at their bloody business, they destroyed with sledges the usefulness of the keys and for two hours, they toiled at the steel bolts which were more loyal to Chattanooga's interest than all of her citizenship. But where are the police and where are the thousands who should have and could have defended us against an unspeakable disgrace?

And so the mob marches by a gallows ready prepared with stretched rope within the precincts of the jail. They are not in pursuit of justice, but lawless revenge. Their business is to brutalize a community. Let the curtain fall upon the rest of that unspeakable scene.
The worst elements among the white men of this community took over the reins of government. Was this disgrace ever rebuked? Has any arrest of those men who unsheathed their keen blades and struck deadly blows at the very heart of our civilization ever been effected? Does anyone here know of any attempt?

"Ah, Ah," but you say, "we were afraid." Afraid? Afraid of what? Afraid of the most vicious, Godless, ignorant and depraved of the white men of this community. Why did we not stop and consider that anarchy was already reigning in our midst, when a community was terrorized into a weak compro-mise with its most dangerous citizens.

Ah, no. "Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap."

We had but sown the wind, and were yet to reap the whirlwind. We had cast pearls before the swine, who were presently to trample them in the mire and turn and rend us. We had given the sacred and holy trust of law to dogs, who, despising the holy thing we had compromised, would presently be fixing their vicious fangs in the throat of our civilization.

Not only a fair trial should have been given to Ed Johnson, but a fair trial should also have been given to every member of that mob who could be apprehended. No arrest has been made. No, don't blame the officers altogether. No great, big, strong man stood up in this community and cried aloud in the name of law and justice for the arrest of those men.

But let me speak plainly to the man who sees no more in the tragedy on the bridge than that Ed Johnson got what he ought to have had. Admit it, but how about the community? Has it gotten what it ought to have had? I maintain that that mob struck more terrible blows at the heart of our civilization than it inflicted upon Ed Johnson. The beam in our eye has prevented us from seeing this. So far as Ed Johnson was concerned, the mob only deprived him of a life which in all probability he would only have possessed for a few weeks longer.

But consider what it has done to our community. It advertised Chattanooga all over this land and in foreign lands as a place where it is unsafe to live. It registered our city as among that class of communities which have only attained a very low grade of civilization, a place where intelligence flees with fear and trembling when ignorance clenches its fists and gnashes its teeth. Think of the number of people who today only know us as a city where fifty hoodlums can terrify us into passive submission to lawless barbarism. But the largest injury to the community has not yet been realized. Just as the demoralizing effects of war are felt for generations, so a season of lawlessness such as we have just gone through is as far reaching in its baneful efforts. Whatsoever a man or a community soweth, that shall they also reap. What a lesson for our children!

The minute details of the horrible affair are discussed by groups of small boys on nearly every corner. I, myself, saw a picture the other afternoon which has haunted me like a ghost. A crowd of little boys were playing in a vacant lot, and I was horrified to see that they were in mimicry carrying out the revolting proceedings of the mob on Monday night. They went through with it all. They broke into the jail, they secured the Negro, represented by a large ash can, tied about it a rope, rushed yelling with it to a nearby fence, hoisted it in the air, and then for lack of pistols, took rocks and did their best to riddle the effigy. I walked sadly away, wondering how many "pistol toters" for the future were among those little boys, wondering if they were receiving lessons which would prevent a better civilization.

"Whatsoever a man or a community soweth, that shall he also reap."

Lawlessness begets lawlessness. It always has and always will. Sow an act of lawlessness and you will get a harvest of lawless conditions. If this is not true, civilization is a farce, and anarchy is the best goal to strive for.

The speaker scorns the need of denouncing the crime of which Johnson was accused. I could pile up every adjective, as did Hamlet at Ophelia's grave; I could utter overwrought denunciations which would fall back like cold water upon the fiery indignation which such a crime stirs within me, and yet I should find myself saying, apologetically, as did the sweet Prince of Denmark, "Aye, I can rant as well as thou," but this is not a time for ranting.

I resent the crime on the bridge because of my unspeakable indignation against the crime at St. Elmo. To give over our dealing with this atrocity to lawless procedure means that over and over again, not only the innocent man hangs, but the guilty man remains free, as a threat to the sanctity of our homes. Tell me not, with the pages of history open before me, that a mob ever helps civilization. It is a blind Frankenstein monster, and its only power is force. It cannot think, it cannot reason, the most terrible of all, it cannot love. It is born of the hate of hell and has done more in the history of humanity to degrade civilization, laugh in the face of righteousness and defy the majesty of God, than has any other monster who ever issued from the pit. Blow the dust off your Barnaby Rigby, and let Dickens tell you of the mobs of London. Get down your Carlyle's French Revolution and let him show you how France lost her chance among the nations of the world through the mobs of the Reign of Terror.
Take your place in the gray dawn of that fatal Friday outside the Pretorium, where Pontias Pilate stands before the fury of a mob and presents the only sinless one who ever lived, and say, "Behold the Man." Hear the hoarse cry of that awful creature, the mob, as with gathering force it answers back, "Crucify Him! Crucify Him! Crucify Him!" and then stand forth and tell me if you hope by the force and fury of a mob to accomplish anything but to destroy the best and crucify the holiest!

Eating on a road trip


Going back to our trip out west, one of the basic experiences of a road trip is eating, three times a day. But it is often a challenge. We sometimes stay in a motel that provides breakfast, but the quality and variety of a motel breakfast varies widely. I have taken to carrying with me a packet of whey powder, a wand blender, and a large plastic glass, so if there is e.g., some orange juice provided to mix the whey powder into, I can make a basic smoothie, and then supplement that with what the motel offers. But sometimes, there is no juice, no decaf, no low-sugar cereal, no protein whatsoever, not even a packet of cream cheese to put on a bagel, which pretty much makes it a non-option for me. Occasionally, it has waffles - which Ellen loves. What I hope for as a basic breakfast is orange juice to mix my whey powder into, unsweetened oatmeal or Cheerios, and decaf. I can go with that. A bonus would be bagels with either cream cheese or peanut butter as a spread. Now and then, we get the full buffet - eggs, home fries, biscuits with gravy, cereals, juice, coffee - but that is rare at the budget motels we usually stay in. If the motel provides nothing, we usually stop and get breakfast at  a diner or a drive-through. In the west, Ellen will find a latte in the morning.

For lunch, we usually eat out of our "box." We have a cardboard box in the car with crackers (Triscuits and Ak maks), rice cakes, peanut butter, peanuts, raisins, and Fig Newtons, and also a little green insulated bag with cold packs, cheddar cheese, string cheese and chocolate bars. Various combinations of these ingredients make a very adequate lunch. Sometimes we'll see a little park and stop for a picnic; more often we'll just eat in the car as we drive along.

Supper varies widely.  It sometimes is a repeat of lunch. Sometimes we'll get a slice of pizza, or I'll get a hotdog at a gas station convenience store. Sometimes we'll stop and get something at a Taco John or similar fast food Mexican restaurant, at which I often will get a taco salad and Ellen will get rice and beans and maybe a burrito.

Hydration is also important. We keep a supply of water in the car at all times and every time we stop we'll usually get ice from an ice machine. Ellen regularly buys iced tea which she dilutes with water to stretch it out.  So as we drive along, we are regularly sipping something.

I haven't regularly taken photos of all our various food options, but here are some food photos:

Breakfast in a diner

This diner was in New Salem, North Dakota

The dining room at Yellowstone's Old Faithful Inn

Out west they make pictures on a latte, but not in the east

Picnic lunch in a city park in McCluskey, ND - the "heart" of ND  -  note the heart sculpture at left and our box and cooler

Wayside picnic area - always a welcome sight

 A "Dutch Baby" at Richard Walkers

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Chez Shay

I'm in Boulder, CO at Betsey and Rob's rental house, which is in Sunshine Canyon, about 15 minutes west of Boulder. This canyon was seriously affected by the Fourmile Canyon Forest Fire in September of 2010. Some 170 homes were destroyed in that fire, including a log cabin on the site of Betsey and Rob's house, which was built after the fire in 2012. Insurance claims following the fire totaled $217 million, making it the largest fire in CO history in terms of claims. Evidence of the fire can still be seen around their house - blackened trees, etc.

Rob and Betsey's house in Sunshine Canyon
 Today I have been helping with unpacking, mainly with books. I schlepp, Betsey sorts and Rob shelves. There is still a lot of work to do. But my bedroom looks very nice, and the bed is the one I am accustomed to sleeping in at Columbia - it is an antique bird's eye maple spool bed handed down from Shirley's Townsend Family relatives in New Hampshire.

My bedroom
Today is pretty socked in, so the views are limited - hopefully tomorrow will be better for picture-taking. But here are some views:

View from my balcony

Rob in the kitchen

View from the west window
 The setting is pretty spectacular. It will be very different living for them - especially in the winter!

Moving books, I made a concerted effort not to look at what I was moving - too distracting. But a wonderful book about the Marlboro Music Festival's early days surfaced, and I found this delightful photo of very youthful James Levine and Van Cliburne playing a piano duet:

James Levine and Van Cliburne
Here's what we accomplished today - in part:

Before

After
A feeling of accomplishment!


Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Heading for Boulder, CO

I'm in the Gate lounge at Bradley waiting for Southwest flight to Chicago and on to Denver, where someone will meet me and take me to Boulder where Rob and Betsey have moved and are still in process of unpacking. I'll be there Wed-Thurs, and then leave with Katie and drive to Columbia, MO. on Friday and Sat am I'll take Amtrak to Chicago and on the Albany, arr. Sunday afternoon.

I'll try to blog along the way.

Monday, July 28, 2014

Lillian Thoele and the I Dare You Library

Back in early June, Ellen and I visited Camp Miniwanca in Michigan, where Shirley spent the month of August, 1954, being trained as a "Danny Grad" for the Danforth Foundation. Her assignment was Kansas State Teachers College (KSTC) in Pittsburg, KS, and it was during that assignment that she came to Chicago for a conference at Chicago Theological Seminary, and that is where we met, Thanksgiving weekend, 1954.

On our visit to Camp Miniwanca, I  had one very specific goal: to find where the following photo was taken:
Shirley with Danny Grads at Camp Miniwanca, Aug. 1954
Shirley is at the far right. This is one of the few photos I have from that summer. The building that this group was sitting in has some distinctive features - the windows, the pine paneling, and especially the mural running along the top of the wall and over the window. When I showed this photo to the young man who was showing us around the camp, he immediately said, "Oh, that's the I Dare You Library. I'll show you how to get there." And he did.

The I Dare You Library is named after William H. Danforth's book, "I Dare You" in which the title expresses his Philosophy of Life - a challenge to "be your own self, at your very best, all the time." The mural expresses something of this philosophy, and must have been commissioned by Danforth for this building. It runs the entire perimeter of the interior. The artist is Lillian Thoele, who signed a panel of the mural. It depicts idealized scenes from American history and American life, as well as some visionary scenes of the unity of all peoples under the auspices of the triumph of Protestant Christianity over the entire world! 

The I Dare You Library is a charming, cruciform little house. Ellen and I immediately thought, "this would be the perfect little house for us!"

The I Dare You Library

Ellen took the following picture of me in more or less the same place that Shirley was sitting in 1954. As you can see, little has changed. Amazingly, even the same many-sided table, which the Danny Grads were seated at, and which fits nicely under the central dome, was still there.

Me, seated at the table where Shirley sat in 1954

The artist of the mural, Lillian Thoele, was a St. Louis, MO native, born in 1894; she died in 1971.  She studied at the Washington University School of Fine Art and the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Art in Philadelphia. Early in her career, Thoele worked as a commercial artist, becoming an active member of the Women’s Advertising Club. She was also a member of the St. Louis Artists’ Guild and the Society of Independent Artists of St. Louis. As an indication of her reputation, in 1962 Thoele was voted into the Federated International Artist’s League.  One auction site describes her as "a well-listed Saint Louis, Missouri painter, illustrator, commercial artist and designer."

There is a charm to her paintings, which remind me of children's books from long ago. Here are a couple of her paintings from auction sites:


Club House Sun

Missouri Autumn
And here are some samples of panels from the mural - photos I took:

Close-up of the mural on wall behind the Danny Grads
Teacher calling children to school

 
The Pilgrims going to church

The achievement of the Transcontinental Railroad

Industrious early American life
A vision of a new world - under Christian leadership!
Achieving new heights
The Four-Fold Life: Religious, Physical, Mental and Social



Tuesday, July 22, 2014

We're home

DAY FIFTY-TWO: Got home late Monday night. Safe and sound. Home looks good.  More later

Monday, July 21, 2014

No time

DAY FIFTY-TWO: Just a quick note from the motel. These past few days have been pretty full with little chance to blog. Last night we had to drive until after 11pm to get to our motel! Poor Ellen! I'll try to catch up on the blog when we get home, but I'll lose WiFi access for the computer so it may take a day or two to catch up. But we're doing fine.

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Rocky Mountain College

Sunday night, July 13th, we stayed in Billings, MT at a Rodeway Inn. Monday morning we paid a short visit to the campus of Rocky Mountain College, Montana's oldest college and considered one of its finest - also one the many colleges with a connection to the United Church of Christ.

I first became acquainted with RMC - from a distance - when about 20  years ago I researched colleges for a young man, Chris Tracy, who was a member of the Guilford Community Church and was graduating from high school and wondering where to go to college. None of the VT colleges seemed to quite fill the bill for what he was looking for, so I looked into UCC-related colleges and found that RMC was just the sort of college he was looking for - and he went there! His parents were not too happy that he went so far away from home, and as it turned out, both finances and distance led to his dropping out after two years, but I think he enjoyed those two years.

Rocky Mountain College is interesting academically. It has the usual liberal arts curriculum, but it also has very strong programs in, e.g., Aviation (with majors in both Aeronautical Science and Aviation Management), Equestrian Studies (with several sub-majors in this field), and Environmental Studies. There is a strong Music Department and a Peace Institute is also located there. The campus has many very handsome sandstone buildings, quarried from the Rimrock Hills behind the campus - Losekamp Hall is an example:

Losekamp Hall, which houses the Music Department at Rocky Mountain College, Billings, MT
I sometimes wish that I lived in a town with a college like Rocky Mountain College - a small, fine, independent college with a good library, a rich program of concerts and other cultural events, visiting lecturers, opportunities to sit in on courses or attend conferences, and maybe even occasionally be an adjunct professor and offer a course in Biblical Studies. Brattleboro comes pretty close, but it doesn't quite make it in every respect.


Beartooth Scenic Highway

Our trip out of Yellowstone took us over one of the most beautiful highways in the United States: the Beartooth Scenic Highway. It winds for 68 miles, with numerous switchbacks, through one of the highest and most rugged areas in the lower 48 states, with 20 peaks reaching over 12,000 feet in elevation. In the surrounding mountains, glaciers are found on the north flank of nearly every mountain peak over 11,500 feet high. The road itself is the highest elevation highway in Wyoming (10,947 feet) and Montana (10,350 feet), and is the highest elevation highway in the Northern Rockies. It opened in 1936, and is reputed to follow a route which was first traveled by horse by General Philip Sheriden in 1872 when he and 120 men were returning from an inspection of the newly created Yellowstone National Park, and taking the advice of an old trapper, Shuki Greer, went over the Beartooth pass. The wildflowers were at their height, and we stopped several times to get out and just marvel at them. It was a beautiful, sunny day with spectacular clouds, mountain views, a perfect day for taking photos. There was still deep snow in places beside the road - on July 13th.

Here are some scenes:









Thursday, July 17, 2014

Christian Ministry in the National Parks

The Sunday we were at Yellowstone, we got up early to attend an 8:00a.m church service held on the deck outside, with a great view of Old Faithful Geyser, sponsored by the organization A Christian Ministry in the National Parks. The service was led by three young people, a man and two women,  who were either college students or seminarians. They had been recruited by ACMNP for this volunteer ministry, and all were working full-time in one of the dining rooms or kitchens in the park, and provided this ministry on Sundays and perhaps at other events during the week. The service was publicized as "interdenominational" and the order of service was certainly one you could find in many main-line churches. However, it had a very strong evangelical feel, due largely to the style of the preacher, but also the type of hymns chosen. The sermon, based on Romans 8:1-11, dealt primarily with the issue of sin, and how we are saved from it through the atoning death of Jesus Christ. The preacher (I think his name was Sam) was very earnest, and shared something of his own experience as a teenager with the shame and guilt he had felt from continually falling into the sin of lust. Shortly before the end of the sermon, Old Faithful erupted behind him. He turned and acknowledged the eruption, but I think the subliminal implications may have escaped him. He definitely missed a grand opportunity to use the eruption of Old Faithful as a metaphor for any number of possible spiritual meanings and messages.

The deck at Old Faithful Inn (where the church service was held)
 The folks pictured above were not at the church service - I didn't take a photo of that - they were waiting for Old Faithful to erupt. And here it is:

Old Faithful Geyser
 We have been reading Reinhold Niebuhr's An Inperpretation of Christian Ethics out loud in the car on this trip, and I couldn't help but hear the sermon in that context, and be aware once again of how narrow the evangelical understanding of sin is, how it tends to limit it to the individual (and ignore the sins of groups, organizations, corporations, classes, races and nations), and also how it makes the body or the "flesh" as the locus of sin (ignoring Niebuhr's brilliant insight that the greatest sins are spiritual, and that as you advance in spiritual growth, your capacity for sin becomes greater). I had actually written a seminary dissertation on the very passage Sam was preaching from in Romans 8, in which Paul contrasts "flesh" and "spirit," and as bad as that dissertation was (and it was pretty bad), it at least recognized that Paul himself does not use the term "flesh" (Greek: sarx) simply as a bodily entity, but as a symbol for a complex and broad world, material, mental and spiritual, which is opposed to God. Thus you are not "in the flesh" only when you are full of lustful feelings, as Sam had been as a teenager, you are also "in the flesh" when you are full of self-righteousness and sure of your spiritual superiority over others.

I could have engaged Sam in dialogue after the service, but I didn't. Maybe I missed a grand opportunity too!

A Christian Ministry in the National Parks was started in 1951 by a Princeton seminary student, Warren Ost. It was soon sponsored by the National Council of Churches until the NCC had to let it go for lack of funding. It is now an independent non-profit based in Denver. It is still ecumenical in theory at least - I notice that the UCC website has a link to it and an application process for UCC seminarians - but I suspect by looking at the staff that it has become heavily evangelical in its orientation. This means, I suspect, that sermons like Sam's, which dwell on individual sin and salvation,  are more the order of the day, and that thoughtful reflections on the creation, on the impact of humans on the creation (e.g., global warming), on the myriad moral, social, ethical and spiritual issues which are raised by the very existence of the National Parks (both positive and negative), are rare, if they exist at all.

There is also a "church and state" issue involved in having a "Christian ministry" in the National Parks and not a Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, etc. ministry also, or, no ministry at all. I was interested to find this paragraph in Wikipedia:

"In 1993, Karl and Rita Girshman, a Jewish couple, were visiting Big Bend National Park and were disturbed by one of the students serving with ACMNP. The couple sued and forced several changes in the way ACMNP, the NPS, and park concessioners operated. Prior to the suit, ACMNP used the distinctive arrow head used by the NPS on most of its correspondence. As a result of the suit, the NPS was forced to crack down on who and under what circumstances the arrow head could be used. Concessioners were barred from using religious affiliation in their hiring practices. Prior to the court case, ACMNP was able to guarantee employment with many of the park concessioners as it had arrangements to place students at various locations. As part of the settlement, the NPS sent a letter stating, that it would be against the law to "reserve or set aside jobs for individuals affiliated with one religious group or another... Employment discrimination by our concessioners will not be tolerated." Many parks made exceptions to ACMNP obtaining permits; after the case, ACMNP activities required obtaining permits just as any other group would."We think we've accomplished a lot more than we initially thought we could because of the intimate ties that the Christian Ministry had developed with the government," Karl Girshman said. "In most parks, they had a monopoly. They had been reserving amphitheaters, campfire circles and other public gathering places long in advance. Now there's a fair opportunity for other groups to participate."

This suit is interesting, but it hardly seems to have gone to the heart of the issue.



Colors

DAY FORTY-SEVEN: We're in Bartlett, IL and it's a beautiful day, sunny but relatively cool and low humidity for the mid-west.

Continuing my narrative - going back to Sunday - after breakfast at Old Faithful Inn we went on a short hike through a geyser basin to Mystic Falls. The colors of the geyser basins, created by bacteria, are stunning, as is the deep blue of the water. Wildflowers blanketed the hillsides. I made a discovery: that I could take a photo with my iPhone through a magnifying glass and get some very nice closeup photos of blossoms.

After our hike, we drove to the Mammoth Hot Springs area and went to the one TV screen in the park - at a lounge at Mammoth - to watch the World Cup final between Germany and Argentina. The room was packed, and there seemed to be a lot of Germans and Argentinians in the crowd, so the atmosphere was electric. The game went into overtime, 0-0, but Germany finally got a score late in overtime, and won 1-0. The Germans were overjoyed and the Argentinians took their defeat with civility, all as it should be. During the game, I bought an hour's Wifi time (no free Wifi in Yellowstone), and made a motel reservation in Billings, MT., and after a little picnic we drove over to Roosevelt Lodge, through the Lamar Valley (lots of bison), and out the NE entrance, over the Beartooth Scenic Highway to Red Lodge, MT where we ate supper, and on to Billings. Here are some photos from Yellowstone:

Vivid colors


Nice closeups

Carpets of flowers
World Cup excitement

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Old Faithful Inn


Old Faithful Inn (not my photo)

We stayed at Old Faithful Inn Saturday night, arriving late Saturday afternoon and leaving after breakfast late Sunday morning. During that time, we watched a couple of eruptions of Old Faithful Geyser, explored the Inn, attended a church service held on the deck, and had breakfast in the dining room. Our room was located just off the lobby on the first floor - #5. It was a classic log cabin interior - regretfully I forgot to take pictures of it, but these from the internet are pretty close to what our room looked like.



The room was charming,  but it had one unfortunate feature. The windows opened to a side entry to the Inn, and there was a bench right under the window. People not only sat there and talked, some of them smoked and the smoke came right in the window. That only happened once, but we had to close the windows until they went away. I wrote a note to the management suggesting that the area outside the window be a non-smoking area.

The room had a sink, but not a private bath. The shared bathroom was upstairs and down the hall. It took us a while to find it. You were provided terry-cloth bathrobes to wear to the bathroom.  On the whole, the experience of staying at the Inn was certainly interesting, and I'm glad that we did it, fulfilling a long-held desire, but it was not a perfectly blissful experience.

The architecture of the Inn is astounding. It was built in 1903-1904, and when you look at it, you marvel that it has survived over a century - including earthquake and fire. Robert Reamer, the architect, was only 30 years old when construction started, but he must have been a genius. There is a full account of the building of the Inn by Karen Reinhart at although the records are scanty and there are only two known photographs of the construction process.

Here are some pictures I took:

The Crow's Nest - now closed to visitors. In the old days, an orchestra played up there while people danced below

Dormers seen from the deck
A detail from the lobby balcony

The upper lobby

The massive lobby fireplace

Detail of stair railing
Desk lamp