One small step

Fifty years ago Momma was 5-years-old and annoyed because she had to watch the boring “Men on the Moon.” She was up too late, and Captain Kirk did it weekly.

In color.

Congratulations Apollo 11! 

“That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

May be refin’d and join th’ angelic train

I wanted to remember my late, beloved friend Phillis Wheatley during Black History Month. 

Phillis Wheatley (~1753-1784) was the first published African-American female poet. Born in West Africa, she was sold into slavery at the age of 7 or 8(!) and transported to North America. She was purchased by the Wheatley family of Boston, who taught her to read and write and encouraged her poetry when they saw her talent.

Phillis was an old Addy Momma rewigged to look like an old portrait and dressed in Felicity's clothes and accessories.

Sadly, poor Phillis did not survive the house fire. 

Nevertheless, she persisted

You may now officially call me an Old Battle Axe. 

A battle-axe is a derogatory term for an aggressive and domineering woman.

Perhaps the best example was Carrie Nation, who wielded a hatchet and made it her symbol. Not only was she a militant temperance activist, but she also became involved in the suffragette campaign for votes for women which cemented the stereotype.

So Momma and I were delighted when watching Doctor Who, and the Twelfth Doctor challenged a Viking to an axe battle. (Yes, yes, I know. We're a year behind.)

I knew I had to have one for myself! It took awhile, but then we spotted this beauty that sounded exactly like Peter Capaldi's description of the Twelfth Doctor's guitar: 

"We ended up with a guitar that looked like a Fender Stratocaster that had been described to someone who had never seen one."

Oh, yeah. I be jammin'. 

Anyone want to duel?

She sells sushi

One of the items I proudly offer in my Tea-Key Room is Faux Real Food's sushi. 

Sushi has been served in Japan for hundreds of years. It originally had fermented rice and fish, but evolved into "modern" sushi about 100 years ago.

According to Wikipedia, the Oxford English Dictionary notes the earliest written mention of sushi in English in an 1893 book, A Japanese Interior, where it mentions sushi as "a roll of cold rice with fish, sea-weed, or some other flavoring." However, there is an earlier mention of sushi in an 1873 Japanese-English dictionary, angd an 1879 article on Japanese cookery in the journal, Notes and Queries.

Momma developed a love for sushi when she was in Taiwan, and my sushi is displayed on a miniature plate from the National Palace Museum.

Winter is spot-on in her sushi creations. Momma and I especially love the detail in the rice - something which at 1:3 scale is usually a textured white blob.

Now where is my wasabi and ginger? I bet that dratted kitten took it again....

Are you Faux Real?

It has been called to my attention that I have been Dreadfully Remiss and have not reviewed any of the items created by My Dear Friend Winter Boomershine of Faux Real Foods. 

Neither Momma nor I exactly remember when we first discovered her Etsy shop (https://www.etsy.com/shop/FauxRealFood), but I was hooked after my first meal. 

Winter makes some of the tastiest and most realistic doll food out there. 

Last year I got corned beef, cabbage and potatoes just in time for St. Patrick's Day. Both Momma and Grandmomma were squealing over the details in the tiny cabbage leaves. 

(Quick history: beef was fairly rare in most parts of Ireland. Corned (or salted) beef was a luxury item there - but cheap and easily found in the United States by Irish Immigrants fleeing the potato famine.)  

Thankfully, some of My corned beef dinner survived The Fire - although it is a bit smoky.  

How can I ever repay Winter for her kindness, generosity, and yummy food? By reviewing her foods all week AND by (belatedly!) awarding her my Gear of Approval. I'll also be hosting a giveaway of a sampling of Faux Real Foods at the end of the week! 

Details tomorrow!

Betsy-Tacy Go Downton Addie

Momma and I have survived yet another Betsy's Ray of Sunshine!

Nine ladies (Dare I say, Perfectly Awful Girls?) from around the United States gathered this weekend in the sun-drenched historic Willo District in Phoenix to eat, drink, laugh, drink, play (the Wildly Inappropriate) Cards Against Humanity, drink, listen to the Hamilton soundtrack, drink, shop, and watch the final episode of Downton Abbey together - while drinking.

What brought them together? A deep love of the Betsy-Tacy books by Maud Hart Lovelace and a chance to eat, laugh, and drink together.

We greeted old friends, made new ones, and missed those who have gone to the Great Library in the Sky. 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

It's what we drink around here

CBS This Morning

For those poor souls who have never heard of Vernors Ginger Ale, let alone tried it, I shall endeavor to give you a brief history.

Vernors is a ginger-flavored soft drink and the oldest surviving ginger ale brand in the United States - although there were a lot of commercial ginger drinks prior to 1866.

Vernors is a highly carbonated, sweet "golden" ginger ale that gets its color from caramel and has a robust flavor similar to ginger beer. The golden style was common before Prohibition, when "dry" pale ginger ale became popular. 

According to company legend, Detroit pharmacist James Vernor experimented with flavors in an attempt to duplicate a popular ginger ale imported from Ireland prior to the start of the Civil War. When Vernor went off to serve in the Civil War, he stored the ginger syrup base of 19 ingredients in an oak cask.

Vernor joined the 4th Michigan Cavalry on Aug. 14, 1862 as a hospital steward, was promoted to second lieutenant on Sept. 20, 1864, and was discharged on July 1, 1865. After returning in 1866, he opened the keg and found the drink inside had been changed by the aging process in the wood. It was like nothing else he had ever tasted, and he allegedly said it was "Deliciously different," which remains the drink's motto to this day. 

Some stories say it was created in 1866. However,  James Vernor, Jr., admitted in a 1936 interview that the formula was not developed by his father until after the Civil War was over. This was confirmed in a 1962 interview with former company president, James Vernor Davis. According to the 1911 trademark application, Vernor's ginger ale first entered commerce in 1880, not 1866. (As a reference, Coca-Cola was first sold on May 8, 1886, and in 1893, "Brad's Drink," became an overnight sensation. On Aug. 28, 1898, it was renamed "Pepsi-Cola.")

For most of its history, Vernors was a regional product only sold at soda fountain franchises. Later Vernors was bottled for home consumption. Vernors was not mass distributed nationally until the 1960s. Even after expansion, Michigan accounts for 80 percent of Vernors sales. Michigan, Ohio and Illinois are the highest-selling states, but it is also popular in Florida and Arizona, which has many retired mid-western residents.

A number of slogans have been associated with Vernors over the years. Advertising in the early 1900s used the slogan "Detroit's Drink." It began using the slogan "Deliciously Different" in 1921, and for a time in the mid-1980s Vernors used the slogan, "It's what we drink around here."


It is what we drink around here.

Life is like a beautiful Melody

American Girl

I honestly don't know how I'm going to survive until this summer when Melody Ellison is released.

American Girl has been doing an excellent job this week promoting Melody because of Black History Month.

Because February is Black History Month, your daughter may be learning about Martin Luther King, Jr., and the Civil Rights movement in school. But even in our own changing times, civil rights issues and the social climate of the 1960s may be difficult for her to fully understand. That is why we are so proud to introduce our compelling new BeForever™ character, Melody, whose story reflects the changing face and history of the nation during that important era.

Nine-year-old Melody is growing up in Detroit in the mid-1960s, a time of great energy, optimism, and change for the African American community. She is a singer and loves to perform in church, with her family, and in her community. Her stories are set against the backdrop of the civil rights movement, which was gathering momentum, and the music scene, including the success and popularity of Motown Records and its artists.

As Melody gains more awareness of racial inequality and her sense of community grows from her extended family to include her neighborhood and, ultimately, all African Americans, she is inspired by Dr. King to have a dream of her own: to lift her voice for fairness and equality.

Because many girls are interested in music and performing, as well as starting to find their own "voice" and express their opinions, they'll find Melody's stories engaging and entertaining. You'll love that they're educational, too, helping your girl connect with the past on a more personal level. Come meet Melody Ellison and introduce her to your girl today!

But what is Momma most excited about? Vernors. Melody constantly drinks ginger ale in her first book, especially Vernors - a Detroit invention and midwestern favorite. And what did Momma spot on the table during yesterday's CBS This Morning broadcast? A teeny-tiny bottle of Vernors!

So what's the deal about Vernors? That will be a lesson for another day.

Hill of Sacrifice

National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific

Momma and I are now well rested enough to write about our whirlwind trip to Honolulu.

I shall start with a little background. Nineteen years ago Momma's aunt flew her extended family to Honolulu to be with her when she interred the ashes of her late husband at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific. He was a World War II veteran and a survivor of the Battle of Iwo Jima, Feb. 19 - March 26, 1945).

Momma does not know too much about his wartime experiences as a Marine simply because he Did Not like to talk about it. She does know he was running up the beach at Iwo Jima when there was a blast or explosion which knocked him to the ground. When he looked up, his two best friends (who had been on each side of him) were dead. He was later shot through the wrist and received a Purple Heart. 

That service qualified him for burial at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific (informally known as Punchbowl Cemetery).

Momma's aunt enjoyed having her entire family with her so much she always said she wanted us to do the same when she died and made provisions for such a trip in her estate. So this trip was planned since her death in October. 

Few national cemeteries can compete with the dramatic natural setting of the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific. The "Punchbowl" was formed about 75,000 to 100,000 years ago during the Honolulu period of secondary volcanic activity. A crater resulted from the ejection of hot lava through cracks in the old coral reefs which, at the time, extended to the foot of the Koolau Mountain Range.

Although there are various translations of the Punchbowl's Hawaiian name, "Puowaina," the most common is "Hill of Sacrifice." This translation closely relates to the history of the crater. The first known use was as an altar where Hawaiians offered human sacrifices to pagan gods and the killed violators of the many taboos. (During the late 1890s, a committee recommended that the Punchbowl become the site for a new cemetery to accommodate the growing population of Honolulu. The idea was rejected for fear of polluting the water supply and the emotional aversion to creating a city of the dead above a city of the living.)

The Punchbowl Cemetery is a national cemetery located at Punchbowl Crater in Honolulu, Hawai'i. It serves as a memorial to honor those men and women who served in the United States Armed Forces, and those who have given their lives in doing so.

The view of Honolulu from the rim of the Punchbowl crater.

It is administered by the National Cemetery Administration of the United States Department of Veterans Affairs and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Millions of visitors visit the cemetery each year, and it is one of the most popular tourist attractions in Hawai'i.

In February 1948, Congress approved funding and construction began on the national cemetery. Prior to the opening of the cemetery for the recently deceased, the remains of soldiers from locations around the Pacific Theater—including Guam, Wake Island, and Japanese POW camps—were transported to Hawai'i for final interment. The first interment was made Jan. 4, 1949 - 10 years before Hawai'i became a state. The cemetery opened to the public on July 19, 1949, with services for five war dead: an unknown serviceman, two Marines, an Army lieutenant, and one noted civilian war correspondent, Ernie Pyle.

Since the cemetery was dedicated on Sept. 2, 1949, approximately 53,000 World War I, World War II, Korean War, and Vietnam War veterans and their dependents have been interred. The cemetery now almost exclusively accepts cremated remains (cremains) for above-ground placement in columbaria.

The National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific contains a "Memorial Walk" that is lined with a variety of memorial markers from various organizations and governments that honor America's veterans. As of 2012, there were 60 memorial boulders (bearing bronze plaques) along the pathway. Additional memorials can be found throughout the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific—most commemorating soldiers of 20th Century wars, including those killed at Pearl Harbor.

Among the many memorials is the quote from Abraham Lincoln's letter to Mrs. Lydia Bixby: 
 

The solemn pride that must be yours, to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of Freedom.

That costly sacrifice can take place with lives lost - or the emotional toll it later takes upon our veterans and their families.

In the pink

Don't swoon, but I have overcome My aversion to pink.

We are back in Arizona, but Momma and I stayed at the Royal Hawaiian in Waikiki with the rest of the family. 

Momma's aunt flew the family to Hawai'i 19 years ago for the interment of her husband. She enjoyed the celebration so much she always said she wanted the family to do it again when she died.

So we stayed at the Pink Palace of the Pacific, courtesy of her Estate!

The opening of The Royal Hawaiian on Feb. 1, 1927, ushered in a new era of luxurious resort travel to Hawai'i.  The resort was built with a price tag of $4 million and was completed in 18 months.

The six-story, 400-room structure was fashioned in a Spanish-Moorish style, popular during the period and influenced by screen star Rudolph Valentino. The Honolulu Star-Bulletin described the newly opened Royal Hawaiian as "the first resort hostelry in America."

I shall share more history, stories, and photographs this week, but I'm exhausted!

A Charlie Brown Christmas tree

I don't know who is more excited (or sentimental) about Maryellen's silver Christmas tree - Momma or Maryellen.

Momma has fond memories of her paternal grandparents' silver aluminum Christmas tree - complete with color wheel.

Aluminum Christmas trees were first made around 1955 and continued into the 1970s. The aluminum Christmas tree was even used as symbol of the commercialization of Christmas in 1965s, A Charlie Brown Christmas:

Charlie Brown: Well, this is one play that’s not going to be commercial. What our play needs is the proper Christmas mood. We need a Christmas tree. 

Lucy: Hey, perhaps a tree. A great big shiny aluminum Christmas tree! That’s it! Get the biggest aluminum tree you can find. Maybe paint it pink!

Admittedly, the tree of Momma's youth is long-gone, but this is the next best thing.

 

Momma's got a toy box

Whee! 

Look at what Momma found for me today at Cracker Barrel!

The World's Smallest toys!

The Duncan Toys Company is an American toy manufacturer based in Middlefield, Ohio, best known for its yo-yo line. The company was founded in 1929 by Donald F. Duncan, Sr. The Imperial yo-yo is the classic model that made Duncan yo-yos famous; a fixed-axle plastic yo-yo in a traditional silhouette. Available in many colors, the Imperial is the "starter yo-yo" in the Duncan line. (She's getting the red yo-yo for Clementine today.)

Etch A Sketch is a mechanical drawing toy invented by André Cassagnes of France and subsequently manufactured by the Ohio Art Company. The Etch A Sketch was introduced on July 12, 1960 for $2.99 and sold 600,000 units that year. It was inducted into the National Toy Hall of Fame in Rochester, New York in 1998 and in 2003, the Toy Industry Association named Etch A Sketch to its Century of Toys List.

A Rubik's Cube is a 3-D combination puzzle invented in 1974 by Hungarian sculpter and professor of architecture Ernö Rubik. Originally called the Magic Cube, the puzzle was licensed by Rubik to be sold by Ideal Toy Corp. in 1980 via businessman Tibor Laczi and Seven Towns founder Tom Kremer, and won the German Game of the Year special award for Best Puzzle that year. As of January 2009, 350 million cubes had been sold worldwide making it the world's top-selling puzzle game. It is widely considered to be the world's best-selling toy.

Best of all? They all work!

 

The Lincoln Special

Martyred president Abraham Lincoln's body lay in state in the East Room of the White House which was open to the public on Tuesday, April 18, 1865. On Wednesday, April 19, a funeral service was held and then the coffin was transported to the Capitol Rotunda, where a ceremonial burial service was held. The body again laid in state on Thursday, April 20 and early on the morning of Friday, April 21 a prayer service was held for the Lincoln cabinet. 

At 7 a.m. on Friday, April 21, 1865, the coffin was taken by honor guard to the funeral car and at 8 a.m. the train departed. At least 10,000 people witnessed the train's departure from Washington.

The funeral train consisted of nine cars, including a baggage and hearse car which contained the coffins of Lincoln and his son, William "Willie" Wallace Lincoln, who had died on Feb. 20, 1862 at the age of 11 of typhoid fever during Lincoln’s second year in office.

Lincoln's eldest son Robert Todd Lincoln rode the train to Baltimore and then returned to the White House to be with his mother and surviving brother, Tad. (Robert took a train to Springfield on May 1, 1865 to attend his father's final funeral.) Mary Todd Lincoln, who was too distraught to make the trip, didn't return to Illinois until May 22, 1865.

The train retraced most of the route president-elect Lincoln had traveled on his way to Washington and his first inauguration in 1861, and millions of Americans viewed the train along the route in the following cities:

• Washington, D.C.
• Baltimore, Maryland, April 21, 1865
• Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, April 21, 1865
• Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, April 22, 1865
• New York City, April 24, 1865
• Albany, New York, April 25, 1865
• Buffalo, New York, April 27, 1865
• Cleveland, Ohio, April 28, 1865
• Columbus, Ohio, April 29, 1865
• Indianapolis, Indiana, April 30, 1865
• Michigan City, Indiana, May 1, 1865
• Chicago, Illinois, May 1, 1865
• Springfield, Illinois, May 3, 1865

The train passed 444 communities, 180 cities, and seven states. (Lincoln was not viewed in state in New Jersey).

However, assassin John Wilkes Booth was still on the run as of April 21, 1865.

Booth was not the hero he thought he would be. Newspapers called him an "accursed devil," "monster," "madman," and a "wretched fiend." Even in the South, Confederate Gen. Joseph E. Johnston called Booth's act "a disgrace to the age," and Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee expressed regret at Lincoln's assassination.

Not all were grief-stricken, however. In New York City, a man was attacked by an enraged crowd when he shouted, "It served Old Abe right!" after hearing the news of Lincoln's death.

(Momma's great-great-grandfather, who had mustered out of the 58th OVI on Jan. 8, 1865, was back in Hocking County, Ohio when he heard of the assassination. When a local man cheered at the news, Momma's great-great-grandfather punched him in the face -- knocking him off the split-rail fence he was sitting upon and breaking his jaw.)

Booth would remain on the run until cornered, shot, and killed in a tobacco barn just south of Port Royal, Caroline County, Virginia on April 26, 1865.

Now he belongs to the ages

On the night Abraham Lincoln was shot, April 14, 1865, Associated Press correspondent Lawrence Gobright scrambled to report from the White House, the streets of the stricken capital, and even from the blood-stained box at Ford's Theatre, where, in his memoir he reports he was handed the assassin's gun and turned it over to authorities. Here is an edited version of his original AP dispatch:

___

WASHINGTON, APRIL 14 - President Lincoln and wife visited Ford's Theatre this evening for the purpose of witnessing the performance of 'The (sic) American Cousin.' It was announced in the papers that Gen. Grant would also be present, but that gentleman took the late train of cars for New Jersey.

The theatre was densely crowded, and everybody seemed delighted with the scene before them. During the third act and while there was a temporary pause for one of the actors to enter, a sharp report of a pistol was heard, which merely attracted attention, but suggested nothing serious until a man rushed to the front of the President's box, waving a long dagger in his right hand, exclaiming, 'Sic semper tyrannis,' and immediately leaped from the box, which was in the second tier, to the stage beneath, and ran across to the opposite side, made his escape amid the bewilderment of the audience from the rear of the theatre, and mounted a horse and fled.

The groans of Mrs. Lincoln first disclosed the fact that the President had been shot, when all present rose to their feet rushing towards the stage, many exclaiming, 'Hang him, hang him!' The excitement was of the wildest possible description...

There was a rush towards the President's box, when cries were heard - 'Stand back and give him air!' 'Has anyone stimulants?' On a hasty examination it was found that the President had been shot through the head above and back of the temporal bone, and that some of his brain was oozing out. He was removed to a private house opposite the theatre, and the Surgeon General of the Army and other surgeons were sent for to attend to his condition.

On an examination of the private box, blood was discovered on the back of the cushioned rocking chair on which the President had been sitting; also on the partition and on the floor. A common single-barrelled pocket pistol was found on the carpet.

A military guard was placed in front of the private residence to which the President had been conveyed. An immense crowd was in front of it, all deeply anxious to learn the condition of the President.

It had been previously announced that the wound was mortal, but all hoped otherwise. ...

At midnight the Cabinet, with Messrs. Sumner, Colfax and Farnsworth, Judge Curtis, Governor Oglesby, Gen. Meigs, Col. Hay, and a few personal friends, with Surgeon General Barnes and his immediate assistants, were around his bedside.

The President was in a state of syncope, totally insensible and breathing slowly. The blood oozed from the wound at the back of his head. The surgeons exhausted every effort of medical skill, but all hope was gone.

The parting of his family with the dying President is too sad for description....

___

Lincoln's death at 7:22 a.m. on April 15, 1865 was reported by Secretary of War Edwin Stanton.

The Silent Witness

On April 9, 1865, General Robert E. Lee surrendered his once formidable army of Northern Virginia to three Federal armies under General Ulysses S. Grant. The terms of surrender were set about noon during a one and a half hour meeting between the two generals in the parlor of the McLean Home.

(The First Battle of Bull Run, also known as the First Battle of Manassas, took place on July 21, 1861 at the farm of Wilmer McLean of Bull Run, Virginia. Soon after that battle the upper middle class family moved to the village of Clover Hill, Virginia - the name of which was changed to "Appomattox Court House.")

Wilmer and Virginia McLean had four daughters and a son. Sometime before Lee and Grant met that Palm Sunday afternoon, 7-year-old Lula McLean had left her favorite doll in the parlor.

The rag doll remained in the room where Lula had left it while the generals met. When the meeting ended, Union officers - anxious to obtain souvenirs of the event - plundered the McLeans' parlor appropriating items ... including Lula's rag doll.

Colonel Horace Porter of General Grant's staff, wrote: "A child's doll was found in the room, which the younger officers tossed from one to the other, and called 'The Silent Witness.'"

One of the cavorting Federal staff officers was Captain Robert Todd Lincoln, son of the President of the United States. The doll was taken from the home by Capt. Thomas W.C. Moore, of Major General Sheridan's staff. For well over a century, the Moore family kept the doll as a "war trophy" of sorts. Poor Lula never saw her beloved rag doll again.

Lula's descendants remembered the doll as "...lovingly handmade by a doting mother."

The body of the doll was made of coarse unbleached cotton and stuffed. Inked on the simple, round face were eyes and nothing more. Printed cotton fabric was stitched together to fashion a bodice, skirt and leggings.

Lula's doll was donated to Appomattox Court House National Historical Park in December 1992, and is now on permanent exhibit at the park.

http://www.nps.gov/apco/silent-witness.htm

This week in the Civil War: April 5, 1865

Lee Surrenders

Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee surrendered this week 150 years ago in the Civil War, after four years of bloodshed that had claimed hundreds of thousands of lives. After days of fighting and fleeing had left his forces haggard, hungry and surrounded, Lee surrendered his Army of Northern Virginia on April 9, 1865, to the Union's Ulysses S. Grant at the McLean House at Appomattox Court House. Grant allowed for the parole of the Confederate officers and enlisted men but said all weapons and war equipment would be surrendered. The end of Lee's fighting force came after federal troops had relentlessly pursued and pummeled Lee's troops westward across the Virginia countryside. The Associated Press reported the details of the surrender, noting Lee had crossed the Appomattox River and burned bridges, seeking a position away from the river. But Union forces "attacked them vigorously" in the hours before the end, convincing Lee the fight was over. AP cited accounts as saying "the road for miles was strewn with broken down wagons, caissons, and baggage of all kinds, presenting a scene seldom witnessed on the part of Lee's army." AP reported that "the rank and file of Lee's army are said to be well satisfied to give up the struggle, believing that they have no hope of success." And AP added that the formal surrender came later at the country home, leaving the Confederates forces 'at liberty to proceed to their homes or elsewhere, as they chose."

This week in the Civil War: March 29, 1865

Fall of Richmond, Virginia, seat of Confederacy

The forces of Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee reached the breaking point this week 150 years ago in the Civil War. Lee ordered infantry and cavalry units to hold a key defensive line at Five Forks, Virginia, only to come under withering Union attack. Union forces took many prisoners as they beat back Lee's forces and soon cut off Lee's only remaining supply line for the Confederacy to Petersburg and nearby Richmond, Virginia, seat of the Confederacy. News reports of the week recalled bloody combat and thousands of Confederates taken prison as the Southern troops were rapidly becoming demoralized. The dire turn of events forced Lee to inform Jefferson Davis that both cities would have to be evacuated and the Petersburg-Richmond siege lines abandoned. After a hasty Confederate evacuation begun on April 2, 1865, Union troops entered Richmond the next day. "Richmond and Petersburg Taken!" blared the New York Tribune in bold headlines in its April 4, 1865, edition. It added: "Colored Troops the First to Enter the Slaveholders' Capital ... THE REBELS LEAVE IN HASTE. Gen. Grant Attempting to Cut Off Lee's Escape." That same day, President Abraham Lincoln would visit the city, greeted by jubilant former slaves. Lee's surrender would only be a matter of days.

When the Limbaugh breaks

I honestly don't know if I should laugh, cry . . . or become violently ill. 

Apparently ubber-conservative Rush Limbaugh has published three (three!) books for impressionable young readers about a history teacher named Rush Revere and his talking horse, Liberty, who have "Time-Travel Adventures with Exceptional Americans." 

Rush Revere and the Brave Pilgrims (2013)

Rush Revere and the First Patriots (2014)

Rush Revere and the American Revolution (2014)

MEET RUSH LIMBAUGH'S REALLY GOOD PAL, RUSH REVERE!

Okay, okay, my name's really Rusty—but my friends call me Rush. Rush Revere. Because I've always been the #1 fan of the coolest colonial dude ever, Paul Revere. Talk about a rock star—this guy wanted to protect young America so badly, he rode through those bumpy, cobblestone-y streets shouting "the British are coming!" On a horse. Top of his lungs. Wind blowing, rain streaming... 

Well, you get the picture. But what if you could get the real picture—by actually going back in time and seeing with your own eyes how our great country came to be? Meeting the people who made it all happen—people like you and me? 

Hold on to your pointy triangle hats, because you can—with me, Rush Revere, seemingly ordinary substitute history teacher, as your tour guide across time! "How?" you ask? Well, there's this portal. And a horse. My talking horse named Liberty. And—well, just trust me, I'll get us there.

Now I'm all for time-travel, but these?

I simply do not want to know what Limbaugh will make of the Civil War.

Eww.

This week in the Civil War: March 15, 1865

Latest Union victory in North Carolina

Days after President Abraham Lincoln began his second term, the Union scored a new victory in fighting in North Carolina 150 years ago in the Civil War. Troops under Maj. Gen. William T. Sherman and a fellow general collided with a Confederate force led by Gen. Joseph E. Johnston on March 19, 1865. The battle of Bentonville, North Carolina, came as Sherman's army was marching across North Carolina. Johnston attacked. Fierce fighting erupted. The Union counterattacked. Repeated Southern efforts to overrun the federal contingent failed after hours of hard fighting on March 19, 1865, and the combat would drag on two more days before the Confederates retreated. Though Sherman's advance was momentarily slowed by fighting at Bentonville, his forces continued their march across the Carolinas. One newspaper dispatch reported: "Sherman walks over the Carolinas as fearlessly and unconcerned as a giant." And it would only be a matter of weeks before the Union prevailed. The Cleveland Morning Leader signaled Northern morale was running high as it reported March 22, 1865, that some projections put a war-weakened Confederate army now at just over 120,000 troops. "Against this our forces, in the three armies of Grant, Sherman, and Schofield alone, muster more than 250,000 men. Who can doubt the result?"

Rejoice in hope

Remarks by President Obama at the 50th Anniversary of the Selma to Montgomery Marches

Edmund Pettus Bridge
Selma, Alabama

It is a rare honor in this life to follow one of your heroes. And John Lewis is one of my heroes.

Now, I have to imagine that when a younger John Lewis woke up that morning 50 years ago and made his way to Brown Chapel, heroics were not on his mind. A day like this was not on his mind. Young folks with bedrolls and backpacks were milling about. Veterans of the movement trained newcomers in the tactics of non-violence; the right way to protect yourself when attacked. A doctor described what tear gas does to the body, while marchers scribbled down instructions for contacting their loved ones. The air was thick with doubt, anticipation and fear. And they comforted themselves with the final verse of the final hymn they sung:

"No matter what may be the test, God will take care of you;Lean, weary one, upon His breast, God will take care of you."

And then, his knapsack stocked with an apple, a toothbrush, and a book on government -- all you need for a night behind bars -- John Lewis led them out of the church on a mission to change America.

President and Mrs. Bush, Governor Bentley, Mayor Evans, Sewell, Reverend Strong, members of Congress, elected officials, foot soldiers, friends, fellow Americans:

As John noted, there are places and moments in America where this nation's destiny has been decided. Many are sites of war -- Concord and Lexington, Appomattox, Gettysburg. Others are sites that symbolize the daring of America's character -- Independence Hall and Seneca Falls, Kitty Hawk and Cape Canaveral.

Selma is such a place. In one afternoon 50 years ago, so much of our turbulent history -- the stain of slavery and anguish of civil war; the yoke of segregation and tyranny of Jim Crow; the death of four little girls in Birmingham; and the dream of a Baptist preacher -- all that history met on this bridge.

It was not a clash of armies, but a clash of wills; a contest to determine the true meaning of America. And because of men and women like John Lewis, Joseph Lowery, Hosea Williams, Amelia Boynton, Diane Nash, Ralph Abernathy, C.T. Vivian, Andrew Young, Fred Shuttlesworth, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and so many others, the idea of a just America and a fair America, an inclusive America, and a generous America -- that idea ultimately triumphed.

As is true across the landscape of American history, we cannot examine this moment in isolation. The march on Selma was part of a broader campaign that spanned generations; the leaders that day part of a long line of heroes.

We gather here to celebrate them. We gather here to honor the courage of ordinary Americans willing to endure billy clubs and the chastening rod; tear gas and the trampling hoof; men and women who despite the gush of blood and splintered bone would stay true to their North Star and keep marching towards justice.

They did as Scripture instructed: "Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer." And in the days to come, they went back again and again. When the trumpet call sounded for more to join, the people came –- black and white, young and old, Christian and Jew, waving the American flag and singing the same anthems full of faith and hope. A white newsman, Bill Plante, who covered the marches then and who is with us here today, quipped that the growing number of white people lowered the quality of the singing. To those who marched, though, those old gospel songs must have never sounded so sweet.

In time, their chorus would well up and reach President Johnson. And he would send them protection, and speak to the nation, echoing their call for America and the world to hear: "We shall overcome." What enormous faith these men and women had. Faith in God, but also faith in America.

The Americans who crossed this bridge, they were not physically imposing. But they gave courage to millions. They held no elected office. But they led a nation. They marched as Americans who had endured hundreds of years of brutal violence, countless daily indignities –- but they didn't seek special treatment, just the equal treatment promised to them almost a century before.

What they did here will reverberate through the ages. Not because the change they won was preordained; not because their victory was complete; but because they proved that nonviolent change is possible, that love and hope can conquer hate.

As we commemorate their achievement, we are well-served to remember that at the time of the marches, many in power condemned rather than praised them. Back then, they were called Communists, or half-breeds, or outside agitators, sexual and moral degenerates, and worse –- they were called everything but the name their parents gave them. Their faith was questioned. Their lives were threatened. Their patriotism challenged.

And yet, what could be more American than what happened in this place? What could more profoundly vindicate the idea of America than plain and humble people –- unsung, the downtrodden, the dreamers not of high station, not born to wealth or privilege, not of one religious tradition but many, coming together to shape their country's course?

What greater expression of faith in the American experiment than this, what greater form of patriotism is there than the belief that America is not yet finished, that we are strong enough to be self-critical, that each successive generation can look upon our imperfections and decide that it is in our power to remake this nation to more closely align with our highest ideals?

That's why Selma is not some outlier in the American experience. That's why it's not a museum or a static monument to behold from a distance. It is instead the manifestation of a creed written into our founding documents: "We the People…in order to form a more perfect union." "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

These are not just words. They're a living thing, a call to action, a roadmap for citizenship and an insistence in the capacity of free men and women to shape our own destiny. For founders like Franklin and Jefferson, for leaders like Lincoln and FDR, the success of our experiment in self-government rested on engaging all of our citizens in this work. And that's what we celebrate here in Selma. That's what this movement was all about, one leg in our long journey toward freedom.

The American instinct that led these young men and women to pick up the torch and cross this bridge, that's the same instinct that moved patriots to choose revolution over tyranny. It's the same instinct that drew immigrants from across oceans and the Rio Grande; the same instinct that led women to reach for the ballot, workers to organize against an unjust status quo; the same instinct that led us to plant a flag at Iwo Jima and on the surface of the Moon.

It's the idea held by generations of citizens who believed that America is a constant work in progress; who believed that loving this country requires more than singing its praises or avoiding uncomfortable truths. It requires the occasional disruption, the willingness to speak out for what is right, to shake up the status quo. That's America.

That's what makes us unique. That's what cements our reputation as a beacon of opportunity. Young people behind the Iron Curtain would see Selma and eventually tear down that wall. Young people in Soweto would hear Bobby Kennedy talk about ripples of hope and eventually banish the scourge of apartheid. Young people in Burma went to prison rather than submit to military rule. They saw what John Lewis had done. From the streets of Tunis to the Maidan in Ukraine, this generation of young people can draw strength from this place, where the powerless could change the world's greatest power and push their leaders to expand the boundaries of freedom.

They saw that idea made real right here in Selma, Alabama. They saw that idea manifest itself here in America.

Because of campaigns like this, a Voting Rights Act was passed. Political and economic and social barriers came down. And the change these men and women wrought is visible here today in the presence of African Americans who run boardrooms, who sit on the bench, who serve in elected office from small towns to big cities; from the Congressional Black Caucus all the way to the Oval Office.

Because of what they did, the doors of opportunity swung open not just for black folks, but for every American. Women marched through those doors. Latinos marched through those doors. Asian Americans, gay Americans, Americans with disabilities -- they all came through those doors. Their endeavors gave the entire South the chance to rise again, not by reasserting the past, but by transcending the past.

What a glorious thing, Dr. King might say. And what a solemn debt we owe. Which leads us to ask, just how might we repay that debt?

First and foremost, we have to recognize that one day's commemoration, no matter how special, is not enough. If Selma taught us anything, it's that our work is never done. The American experiment in self-government gives work and purpose to each generation.

Selma teaches us, as well, that action requires that we shed our cynicism. For when it comes to the pursuit of justice, we can afford neither complacency nor despair.

Just this week, I was asked whether I thought the Department of Justice's Ferguson report shows that, with respect to race, little has changed in this country. And I understood the question; the report's narrative was sadly familiar. It evoked the kind of abuse and disregard for citizens that spawned the Civil Rights Movement. But I rejected the notion that nothing's changed. What happened in Ferguson may not be unique, but it's no longer endemic. It's no longer sanctioned by law or by custom. And before the Civil Rights Movement, it most surely was.

We do a disservice to the cause of justice by intimating that bias and discrimination are immutable, that racial division is inherent to America. If you think nothing's changed in the past 50 years, ask somebody who lived through the Selma or Chicago or Los Angeles of the 1950s. Ask the female CEO who once might have been assigned to the secretarial pool if nothing's changed. Ask your gay friend if it's easier to be out and proud in America now than it was 30 years ago. To deny this progress, this hard-won progress -– our progress –- would be to rob us of our own agency, our own capacity, our responsibility to do what we can to make America better.

Of course, a more common mistake is to suggest that Ferguson is an isolated incident; that racism is banished; that the work that drew men and women to Selma is now complete, and that whatever racial tensions remain are a consequence of those seeking to play the "race card" for their own purposes. We don't need the Ferguson report to know that's not true. We just need to open our eyes, and our ears, and our hearts to know that this nation's racial history still casts its long shadow upon us.

We know the march is not yet over. We know the race is not yet won. We know that reaching that blessed destination where we are judged, all of us, by the content of our character requires admitting as much, facing up to the truth. "We are capable of bearing a great burden," James Baldwin once wrote, "once we discover that the burden is reality and arrive where reality is."

There's nothing America can't handle if we actually look squarely at the problem. And this is work for all Americans, not just some. Not just whites. Not just blacks. If we want to honor the courage of those who marched that day, then all of us are called to possess their moral imagination. All of us will need to feel as they did the fierce urgency of now. All of us need to recognize as they did that change depends on our actions, on our attitudes, the things we teach our children. And if we make such an effort, no matter how hard it may sometimes seem, laws can be passed, and consciences can be stirred, and consensus can be built.

With such an effort, we can make sure our criminal justice system serves all and not just some. Together, we can raise the level of mutual trust that policing is built on –- the idea that police officers are members of the community they risk their lives to protect, and citizens in Ferguson and New York and Cleveland, they just want the same thing young people here marched for 50 years ago -– the protection of the law. Together, we can address unfair sentencing and overcrowded prisons, and the stunted circumstances that rob too many boys of the chance to become men, and rob the nation of too many men who could be good dads, and good workers, and good neighbors.

With effort, we can roll back poverty and the roadblocks to opportunity. Americans don't accept a free ride for anybody, nor do we believe in equality of outcomes. But we do expect equal opportunity. And if we really mean it, if we're not just giving lip service to it, but if we really mean it and are willing to sacrifice for it, then, yes, we can make sure every child gets an education suitable to this new century, one that expands imaginations and lifts sights and gives those children the skills they need. We can make sure every person willing to work has the dignity of a job, and a fair wage, and a real voice, and sturdier rungs on that ladder into the middle class.

And with effort, we can protect the foundation stone of our democracy for which so many marched across this bridge –- and that is the right to vote. Right now, in 2015, 50 years after Selma, there are laws across this country designed to make it harder for people to vote. As we speak, more of such laws are being proposed. Meanwhile, the Voting Rights Act, the culmination of so much blood, so much sweat and tears, the product of so much sacrifice in the face of wanton violence, the Voting Rights Act stands weakened, its future subject to political rancor.

How can that be? The Voting Rights Act was one of the crowning achievements of our democracy, the result of Republican and Democratic efforts. President Reagan signed its renewal when he was in office. President George W. Bush signed its renewal when he was in office. One hundred members of Congress have come here today to honor people who were willing to die for the right to protect it. If we want to honor this day, let that hundred go back to Washington and gather four hundred more, and together, pledge to make it their mission to restore that law this year. That's how we honor those on this bridge.

Of course, our democracy is not the task of Congress alone, or the courts alone, or even the President alone. If every new voter-suppression law was struck down today, we would still have, here in America, one of the lowest voting rates among free peoples. Fifty years ago, registering to vote here in Selma and much of the South meant guessing the number of jellybeans in a jar, the number of bubbles on a bar of soap. It meant risking your dignity, and sometimes, your life.

What's our excuse today for not voting? How do we so casually discard the right for which so many fought? How do we so fully give away our power, our voice, in shaping America's future? Why are we pointing to somebody else when we could take the time just to go to the polling places? We give away our power.

Fellow marchers, so much has changed in 50 years. We have endured war and we've fashioned peace. We've seen technological wonders that touch every aspect of our lives. We take for granted conveniences that our parents could have scarcely imagined. But what has not changed is the imperative of citizenship; that willingness of a 26-year-old deacon, or a Unitarian minister, or a young mother of five to decide they loved this country so much that they'd risk everything to realize its promise.

That's what it means to love America. That's what it means to believe in America. That's what it means when we say America is exceptional.

For we were born of change. We broke the old aristocracies, declaring ourselves entitled not by bloodline, but endowed by our Creator with certain inalienable rights. We secure our rights and responsibilities through a system of self-government, of and by and for the people. That's why we argue and fight with so much passion and conviction -- because we know our efforts matter. We know America is what we make of it.

Look at our history. We are Lewis and Clark and Sacajawea, pioneers who braved the unfamiliar, followed by a stampede of farmers and miners, and entrepreneurs and hucksters. That's our spirit. That's who we are.

We are Sojourner Truth and Fannie Lou Hamer, women who could do as much as any man and then some. And we're Susan B. Anthony, who shook the system until the law reflected that truth. That is our character.

We're the immigrants who stowed away on ships to reach these shores, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free –- Holocaust survivors, Soviet defectors, the Lost Boys of Sudan. We're the hopeful strivers who cross the Rio Grande because we want our kids to know a better life. That's how we came to be.

We're the slaves who built the White House and the economy of the South. We're the ranch hands and cowboys who opened up the West, and countless laborers who laid rail, and raised skyscrapers, and organized for workers' rights.

We're the fresh-faced GIs who fought to liberate a continent. And we're the Tuskeegee Airmen, and the Navajo code-talkers, and the Japanese Americans who fought for this country even as their own liberty had been denied.

We're the firefighters who rushed into those buildings on 9/11, the volunteers who signed up to fight in Afghanistan and Iraq. We're the gay Americans whose blood ran in the streets of San Francisco and New York, just as blood ran down this bridge.

We are storytellers, writers, poets, artists who abhor unfairness, and despise hypocrisy, and give voice to the voiceless, and tell truths that need to be told.

We're the inventors of gospel and jazz and blues, bluegrass and country, and hip-hop and rock and roll, and our very own sound with all the sweet sorrow and reckless joy of freedom.

We are Jackie Robinson, enduring scorn and spiked cleats and pitches coming straight to his head, and stealing home in the World Series anyway.

We are the people Langston Hughes wrote of who "build our temples for tomorrow, strong as we know how." We are the people Emerson wrote of, "who for truth and honor's sake stand fast and suffer long;" who are "never tired, so long as we can see far enough."

That's what America is. Not stock photos or airbrushed history, or feeble attempts to define some of us as more American than others. We respect the past, but we don't pine for the past. We don't fear the future; we grab for it. America is not some fragile thing. We are large, in the words of Whitman, containing multitudes. We are boisterous and diverse and full of energy, perpetually young in spirit. That's why someone like John Lewis at the ripe old age of 25 could lead a mighty march.

And that's what the young people here today and listening all across the country must take away from this day. You are America. Unconstrained by habit and convention. Unencumbered by what is, because you're ready to seize what ought to be.

For everywhere in this country, there are first steps to be taken, there's new ground to cover, there are more bridges to be crossed. And it is you, the young and fearless at heart, the most diverse and educated generation in our history, who the nation is waiting to follow.

Because Selma shows us that America is not the project of any one person. Because the single-most powerful word in our democracy is the word "We." "We The People." "We Shall Overcome." "Yes We Can." That word is owned by no one. It belongs to everyone. Oh, what a glorious task we are given, to continually try to improve this great nation of ours.

Fifty years from Bloody Sunday, our march is not yet finished, but we're getting closer. Two hundred and thirty-nine years after this nation's founding our union is not yet perfect, but we are getting closer. Our job's easier because somebody already got us through that first mile. Somebody already got us over that bridge. When it feels the road is too hard, when the torch we've been passed feels too heavy, we will remember these early travelers, and draw strength from their example, and hold firmly the words of the prophet Isaiah: "Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on [the] wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not be faint."

We honor those who walked so we could run. We must run so our children soar. And we will not grow weary. For we believe in the power of an awesome God, and we believe in this country's sacred promise.

May He bless those warriors of justice no longer with us, and bless the United States of America. Thank you, everybody.