Kathleen Marple Kalb's Blog, page 3
February 19, 2025
TEACHING FREEDOM
You may never have heard her name, even in Black History Month, but Susan Taylor Baker King lived a really important and interesting life in 19th century America. The topline is: she was the first Black person to openly teach. The rest of the story is even more intriguing.
Born an enslaved person in 1848 and raised on a plantation in Georgia, she and her brother were sent to Savannah when she was seven. There, they attended secret schools led by Black women. Later, when she’d learned all she could from those teachers, she studied with a white girl and boy who shared their knowledge in defiance of the law.
It’s worth noting here that all her teachers were taking significant risks: educating enslaved people was a major threat to the entire institution and punished accordingly. After all, people who can read and write and think might be humans like any others – and might deserve to be treated as such.
In the midst of the Civil War, Susan Baker and her family fled to Union-occupied St. Simons Island – and there claimed their freedom. Word spread among the community of her education, and soon, Commodore Louis Goldsborough offered her books and materials to teach. She accepted and was soon teaching children by day and adults by night – as the first Black person to openly instruct students.
Eventually, she married a Black Union non-commissioned officer, Edward King…and spent the next three years traveling with his regiment, teaching the soldiers, serving as a nurse – and laundress, too. It was the same kind of unsung and desperately important support role that many military wives played in previous centuries – with the added job of teaching. After the war, the couple moved to Savannah and started a school for freed Black children. Her first husband died soon after, leaving her with a new baby.
Still, she continued to teach and nurse.
The story’s a bit sketchy here, but by the early 1870s, she had moved to Boston, married again, and joined the Women’s Relief Corps, which helped soldiers and hospitals. She soon became president of the group.
In 1890, she once again kept moving through personal tragedy, writing her memoir after caring for her dying son. The book was privately published and is now seen as important firsthand record of a Black woman’s experiences in the Civil War.
Susie King Taylor, as she was widely known, died in Boston in 1912. A hundred and ten years later, as Savannah was coming to terms with its Confederate past, the city voted to remove the name of slaveholder John C. Calhoun from the public square – and replace it with hers.
Susie King Taylor is just one of many trailblazing Black teachers who stepped forward in the years after the Civil War. If you’d like to learn more, Harvard University maintains the Black Teacher Archive, an online resource with all kinds of information on African-American teachers, education, and more. It’s well worth a look in Black History Month and beyond.
And the next time you’re in Savannah, go to the public square and give thanks for the important and interesting life of Susie King Taylor.
Got a #ThrowbackThursday Idea? Drop it in the comments!
Born an enslaved person in 1848 and raised on a plantation in Georgia, she and her brother were sent to Savannah when she was seven. There, they attended secret schools led by Black women. Later, when she’d learned all she could from those teachers, she studied with a white girl and boy who shared their knowledge in defiance of the law.
It’s worth noting here that all her teachers were taking significant risks: educating enslaved people was a major threat to the entire institution and punished accordingly. After all, people who can read and write and think might be humans like any others – and might deserve to be treated as such.
In the midst of the Civil War, Susan Baker and her family fled to Union-occupied St. Simons Island – and there claimed their freedom. Word spread among the community of her education, and soon, Commodore Louis Goldsborough offered her books and materials to teach. She accepted and was soon teaching children by day and adults by night – as the first Black person to openly instruct students.
Eventually, she married a Black Union non-commissioned officer, Edward King…and spent the next three years traveling with his regiment, teaching the soldiers, serving as a nurse – and laundress, too. It was the same kind of unsung and desperately important support role that many military wives played in previous centuries – with the added job of teaching. After the war, the couple moved to Savannah and started a school for freed Black children. Her first husband died soon after, leaving her with a new baby.
Still, she continued to teach and nurse.
The story’s a bit sketchy here, but by the early 1870s, she had moved to Boston, married again, and joined the Women’s Relief Corps, which helped soldiers and hospitals. She soon became president of the group.
In 1890, she once again kept moving through personal tragedy, writing her memoir after caring for her dying son. The book was privately published and is now seen as important firsthand record of a Black woman’s experiences in the Civil War.
Susie King Taylor, as she was widely known, died in Boston in 1912. A hundred and ten years later, as Savannah was coming to terms with its Confederate past, the city voted to remove the name of slaveholder John C. Calhoun from the public square – and replace it with hers.
Susie King Taylor is just one of many trailblazing Black teachers who stepped forward in the years after the Civil War. If you’d like to learn more, Harvard University maintains the Black Teacher Archive, an online resource with all kinds of information on African-American teachers, education, and more. It’s well worth a look in Black History Month and beyond.
And the next time you’re in Savannah, go to the public square and give thanks for the important and interesting life of Susie King Taylor.
Got a #ThrowbackThursday Idea? Drop it in the comments!
February 12, 2025
SNOWED UNDER
For a lot of folks in the Northeast and other parts of the country, the last couple of weeks have brought the most serious snow of the winter. And we’ve spent days fighting it. Sweeping it, blowing it, scraping it, plowing it…and of course, like me, shoveling it.
In the 19th century, though, snow removal was a lot more basic.
Early snowplows were patented in the 1840s, and they were in wide use (with horse-drawn wagons) by the 1860s. The problem was, the snow still had to go somewhere once the plow pushed it off the road. Residents and merchants on side streets were much less than thrilled to discover that they were snowed under while the main drag was clear.
So they called in the shovel brigade. And that’s exactly what it was: crews of men who shoveled the drifts into carts or wagons, which were then dumped in whatever river or bay was available. Sometimes, in big cities, the shovel brigade followed the plows, cleaning up whatever was left as they went. It was brutal work, and not much different from the way people had been moving snow since the first humans realized they couldn’t just stay in the cave for the winter.
Worse, it didn’t make much sense in a city like New York, which was trying to move into the modern age, with all of the modern accoutrements, like – say – electricity and trains. The Blizzard of 1888 knocked out everything for days and convinced city leaders to make some major changes.
So how do you get around snow on the ground? You go under it – or over it.
New Yorkers did both.
They buried a lot of their power lines. It doesn’t prevent all outages, of course, but it’s a lot easier than going wire by wire through Manhattan. And it worked; many large cities have underground power lines to this day.
More, in parts of the City, you can still look up and see another relic from the 1888 storm: elevated train lines. Steam trains often had their own plows, but the blizzard was too much for them, leading the city to look for other ideas. Elevated lines were one.
Another would become an iconic fixture of the City: underground trains. The subway was still most of 20 years away, but 1888 was a good hard shove in that direction. Underground trains definitely worked: the one thing everyone knows in New York is that the subways ALWAYS run.
Then, as now, though, that did not mean everything was easy, normal or comfortable. The snow wagons and shovel brigades survived long into the 20th century. Even now, there’s not much to do with all of that snow but cart it away and leave it to melt somewhere. Dumping it in the water often isn’t an option any more because of the road salt and other chemicals.
So yes, people across the Northern Hemisphere have been fighting a wretched daily battle with snow this week. But it could be a lot worse.
At least I’ll keep telling myself that as I grab another pain patch for the sore muscles!
Got a Throwback Thursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
In the 19th century, though, snow removal was a lot more basic.
Early snowplows were patented in the 1840s, and they were in wide use (with horse-drawn wagons) by the 1860s. The problem was, the snow still had to go somewhere once the plow pushed it off the road. Residents and merchants on side streets were much less than thrilled to discover that they were snowed under while the main drag was clear.
So they called in the shovel brigade. And that’s exactly what it was: crews of men who shoveled the drifts into carts or wagons, which were then dumped in whatever river or bay was available. Sometimes, in big cities, the shovel brigade followed the plows, cleaning up whatever was left as they went. It was brutal work, and not much different from the way people had been moving snow since the first humans realized they couldn’t just stay in the cave for the winter.
Worse, it didn’t make much sense in a city like New York, which was trying to move into the modern age, with all of the modern accoutrements, like – say – electricity and trains. The Blizzard of 1888 knocked out everything for days and convinced city leaders to make some major changes.
So how do you get around snow on the ground? You go under it – or over it.
New Yorkers did both.
They buried a lot of their power lines. It doesn’t prevent all outages, of course, but it’s a lot easier than going wire by wire through Manhattan. And it worked; many large cities have underground power lines to this day.
More, in parts of the City, you can still look up and see another relic from the 1888 storm: elevated train lines. Steam trains often had their own plows, but the blizzard was too much for them, leading the city to look for other ideas. Elevated lines were one.
Another would become an iconic fixture of the City: underground trains. The subway was still most of 20 years away, but 1888 was a good hard shove in that direction. Underground trains definitely worked: the one thing everyone knows in New York is that the subways ALWAYS run.
Then, as now, though, that did not mean everything was easy, normal or comfortable. The snow wagons and shovel brigades survived long into the 20th century. Even now, there’s not much to do with all of that snow but cart it away and leave it to melt somewhere. Dumping it in the water often isn’t an option any more because of the road salt and other chemicals.
So yes, people across the Northern Hemisphere have been fighting a wretched daily battle with snow this week. But it could be a lot worse.
At least I’ll keep telling myself that as I grab another pain patch for the sore muscles!
Got a Throwback Thursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
February 5, 2025
BLACK HISTORY MONTH BASICS
Black History Month has been around for more than a century, started by Dr. Carter G. Woodson and other prominent African-American historians back in 1915. They were at a conference to mark the 50th anniversary of Emancipation, and they wanted to continue the joy of celebrating Black excellence.
They started a group that still exists, known today as the Association for the Study of African American Life and History, and began promoting the second week in February as a time to look back at the experience and accomplishments of Black Americans.
It quickly caught on, with schools and communities across the country organizing celebrations. The second week of February was a very deliberate choice: the birthdays of both Abraham Lincoln and Frederick Douglass fall in that time.
The week in February was a fixture for generations, but in the late 1960’s, in the wake of the Civil Rights Movement, the first full-month observance was held in 1970 at Kent State University.
And not just in the U.S. There are now celebrations in Canada, Britain, and other European countries to name a few. (Some European countries observe it in October, but the goal is the same.)
Since 1976, every U.S. President has proclaimed February as Black History Month, and designated a specific theme for the observance, such as Black Health and Wellness, Achievement, and Family. This year’s theme, “Black labor,” is intended to look the invaluable contributions of African Americans, free and unfree, to the workforce.
It’s also become a very commercial celebration, with businesses putting up Black History Month colors and posting historical vignettes and tributes. And, in recent years, observances have tried to widen the focus, so that we don’t see profiles of the same four or five people, but of a much broader range of Black experience and achievement.
About those colors: Black History Month postings are often in black, red, green, and yellow for good reason: the colors are seen in many African flags, and represent unity and pride. Specifically: black is for the resilient people. Red is for the blood of innocent Black lives. Yellow is optimism, justice and equality. Green symbolizes the rich resources of Africa.
Of course, we should be reading about the rich history of African-Americans year round. You don’t need a special month to learn more about amazing people like Ida B. Wells, Marion Anderson, and Barbara Jordan, to name just a few.
If you happen to be looking for a place to start, though, you can’t do better than one of my personal favorites: MY LIFE, MY LOVE, MY LEGACY, by Coretta Scott King. It’s the amazing journey know, from a perspective you probably don’t. Not to mention a truly life-changing book.
And I can’t resist throwing in a word for one of my all-time favorite mystery series, Grace F. Edwards’ Mali Anderson series from the late 1990s. Set in Harlem, they’re immersive and engaging – and deserve a lot more attention!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
They started a group that still exists, known today as the Association for the Study of African American Life and History, and began promoting the second week in February as a time to look back at the experience and accomplishments of Black Americans.
It quickly caught on, with schools and communities across the country organizing celebrations. The second week of February was a very deliberate choice: the birthdays of both Abraham Lincoln and Frederick Douglass fall in that time.
The week in February was a fixture for generations, but in the late 1960’s, in the wake of the Civil Rights Movement, the first full-month observance was held in 1970 at Kent State University.
And not just in the U.S. There are now celebrations in Canada, Britain, and other European countries to name a few. (Some European countries observe it in October, but the goal is the same.)
Since 1976, every U.S. President has proclaimed February as Black History Month, and designated a specific theme for the observance, such as Black Health and Wellness, Achievement, and Family. This year’s theme, “Black labor,” is intended to look the invaluable contributions of African Americans, free and unfree, to the workforce.
It’s also become a very commercial celebration, with businesses putting up Black History Month colors and posting historical vignettes and tributes. And, in recent years, observances have tried to widen the focus, so that we don’t see profiles of the same four or five people, but of a much broader range of Black experience and achievement.
About those colors: Black History Month postings are often in black, red, green, and yellow for good reason: the colors are seen in many African flags, and represent unity and pride. Specifically: black is for the resilient people. Red is for the blood of innocent Black lives. Yellow is optimism, justice and equality. Green symbolizes the rich resources of Africa.
Of course, we should be reading about the rich history of African-Americans year round. You don’t need a special month to learn more about amazing people like Ida B. Wells, Marion Anderson, and Barbara Jordan, to name just a few.
If you happen to be looking for a place to start, though, you can’t do better than one of my personal favorites: MY LIFE, MY LOVE, MY LEGACY, by Coretta Scott King. It’s the amazing journey know, from a perspective you probably don’t. Not to mention a truly life-changing book.
And I can’t resist throwing in a word for one of my all-time favorite mystery series, Grace F. Edwards’ Mali Anderson series from the late 1990s. Set in Harlem, they’re immersive and engaging – and deserve a lot more attention!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
January 29, 2025
NEVER MIND MOLLY PITCHER
Women have been fighting for the United States since before we were a country.
In most cases, they weren’t recognized for their service until much later – it took several shameful decades for World War II’s WACS, WAVES, and WASPS to be honored as the veterans they are. With or without recognition, though, women were on the battlefield from the beginning of our country.
Legend has it New Jersey goodwife Molly Pitcher was at the Battle of Monmouth bringing water to the troops (hence the nickname) when her cannon-jockey husband was killed. The story, and the many paintings immortalizing it, say she took the ramrod from his dead hand, stepped into the empty spot, vowing vengeance, and kept on firing at the redcoats.
She was pretty much everything Colonial America wanted in a woman hero: supporting her man – and the troops – in a traditionally feminine role, then jumping in with masculine courage when the moment required,
She’s still everywhere. Her name is all over the Eastern Seaboard, from a rest stop on the Jersey Pike, to a microbrewery in Pennsylvania, to a no-tell motel in Vermont. Molly Pitcher is right beside Betsy Ross any time people want to celebrate the Founding Mothers.
What Molly Pitcher was not, however, was real.
At least two women are associated with parts of the Molly Pitcher story, and both were, at different times, celebrated for their bravery. Mary McCauley is the woman most often credited as the “real” Molly, because she was awarded a pension for “services rendered” during the war instead of one in her husband’s name. But, there’s no contemporary evidence placing her at the Battle of Monmouth. Another woman, Margaret Corbin, definitely fired a cannon in combat…but she did it at the Battle of Fort Washington.
While the dramatic picture of Molly Pitcher at her cannon, hair and skirts flying, is the conventional image of a woman Revolutionary War hero, there’s actually a much more realistic one out there: just another soldier fighting in the Continental ranks. Maybe a little shorter and slimmer – but remember, people were smaller, then, anyway.
Her name was Deborah Sampson, but she served as Robert Shurtliff.
She enlisted in 1782 and served with the New York Light Infantry. If she hadn’t ended up in the infirmary, and a doctor discovered her identity, no one would have known. Instead, she was sent home with a military pension, and eventually went on a speaking tour, celebrated as a heroine of the Revolution.
It’s worth noting here: she’s one of the ones we know about. There are no good numbers, because until the 20th century, women didn’t serve openly. But because of Deborah Sampson, and a number of similar women in the Civil War, we know they did. We also know they were part of a long tradition – there are stories going back to ancient and medieval times of women disguising themselves to fight. And fight they did, bravely and with distinction, just like the men beside them.
Until the modern era, women also played all kinds of informal support roles on the battlefield, cooking, cleaning, and nursing, sometimes praised for their help, more often denigrated as “camp followers.” Critical work, and absolutely thankless at the time.
Well, unless you consider the praise lavished upon the mythical Molly Pitcher as thanks. Maybe it’s time to honor real women’s real service…
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
In most cases, they weren’t recognized for their service until much later – it took several shameful decades for World War II’s WACS, WAVES, and WASPS to be honored as the veterans they are. With or without recognition, though, women were on the battlefield from the beginning of our country.
Legend has it New Jersey goodwife Molly Pitcher was at the Battle of Monmouth bringing water to the troops (hence the nickname) when her cannon-jockey husband was killed. The story, and the many paintings immortalizing it, say she took the ramrod from his dead hand, stepped into the empty spot, vowing vengeance, and kept on firing at the redcoats.
She was pretty much everything Colonial America wanted in a woman hero: supporting her man – and the troops – in a traditionally feminine role, then jumping in with masculine courage when the moment required,
She’s still everywhere. Her name is all over the Eastern Seaboard, from a rest stop on the Jersey Pike, to a microbrewery in Pennsylvania, to a no-tell motel in Vermont. Molly Pitcher is right beside Betsy Ross any time people want to celebrate the Founding Mothers.
What Molly Pitcher was not, however, was real.
At least two women are associated with parts of the Molly Pitcher story, and both were, at different times, celebrated for their bravery. Mary McCauley is the woman most often credited as the “real” Molly, because she was awarded a pension for “services rendered” during the war instead of one in her husband’s name. But, there’s no contemporary evidence placing her at the Battle of Monmouth. Another woman, Margaret Corbin, definitely fired a cannon in combat…but she did it at the Battle of Fort Washington.
While the dramatic picture of Molly Pitcher at her cannon, hair and skirts flying, is the conventional image of a woman Revolutionary War hero, there’s actually a much more realistic one out there: just another soldier fighting in the Continental ranks. Maybe a little shorter and slimmer – but remember, people were smaller, then, anyway.
Her name was Deborah Sampson, but she served as Robert Shurtliff.
She enlisted in 1782 and served with the New York Light Infantry. If she hadn’t ended up in the infirmary, and a doctor discovered her identity, no one would have known. Instead, she was sent home with a military pension, and eventually went on a speaking tour, celebrated as a heroine of the Revolution.
It’s worth noting here: she’s one of the ones we know about. There are no good numbers, because until the 20th century, women didn’t serve openly. But because of Deborah Sampson, and a number of similar women in the Civil War, we know they did. We also know they were part of a long tradition – there are stories going back to ancient and medieval times of women disguising themselves to fight. And fight they did, bravely and with distinction, just like the men beside them.
Until the modern era, women also played all kinds of informal support roles on the battlefield, cooking, cleaning, and nursing, sometimes praised for their help, more often denigrated as “camp followers.” Critical work, and absolutely thankless at the time.
Well, unless you consider the praise lavished upon the mythical Molly Pitcher as thanks. Maybe it’s time to honor real women’s real service…
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
January 22, 2025
HAVE A SLICE!
What’s your favorite pie?
Not pizza – that’s a different post for a different day – but pie? Chances are pretty good you have one, or more, and probably some family traditions associated with it, too. Pie’s been around pretty much forever, in all kinds of flavors and forms. And it’s one of the extremely rare foods that’s recognizably the same as it was thousands of years ago.
Early forms of pie date back to Ancient Sumeria, Egypt, and Greece. The first recorded recipes are a lot like what we now recognize as chicken pot pie. Probably the only major difference would be the crust: more heavy and dry than the flaky ones we know, because early ones were designed for preservation, not flavor. Some were made of nothing but flour, water, and salt, with the idea that they might not even be eaten at all!
For most of food history, pie could appear at any time, and in any place on the menu. It was a great way to buy a few more days for things that might be on the verge of going bad, a way to use up bits and bobs from the pantry, and a way to transport foods that could be too messy to be portable.
By the medieval era, pies could be fun as well as serviceable. Giant pies – see four-and-twenty-blackbirds – were often a marquee event at royal weddings or other celebrations. Often laced with then-exotic spices like cinnamon and pepper, and always elaborately decorated.
While fruit pies had probably always been around, created by some unsung woman who wanted to keep the last bit of sweet from the orchard just a little longer, Gregory Chaucer gets credit for the first apple pie recipe, in 1389.
Indigenous people were already making their own versions of pie when the Europeans
turned up with their own recipe books. Soon enough, the cross-pollination led to pumpkin pie and other dishes centered on local crops. This is probably when people really started caring about the taste of the crust – if you’re scratching out a life on a new continent with limited supplies, you won’t waste a crumb.
You also won’t feel obligated to save the pie for dessert.
Meal times and menus were far different in the Colonial period, and even into the 19th century, depending on whether you lived by the old agrarian clock or the new industrial one. (Another post for another day!) But pie made a simple and filling breakfast, as well as an easy evening bite after a long day of work. It was only later that people came around to the more modern idea of finishing a meal with a sweet. When they did, fruit pies were just sitting right there, looking tasty.
By the late 19th century, fruit pies were a field of their own, many of them with special cultural connotations: pumpkin pie and Thanksgiving, mince meat for Christmas, cherry for George Washington’s birthday, and apple pie for any patriotic occasion as a symbol of Americana. With the invention of the eggbeater, and wider availability of sugar, meringue pies eventually took their place on the dessert table.
And all along, everyone was still having chicken pot pie for dinner. Even now, it’s a beloved comfort dinner for many families, including mine. The next time you sit down to a slice – or one of those cute single-serve pies – remember, you’re eating like an Ancient Egyptian!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Not pizza – that’s a different post for a different day – but pie? Chances are pretty good you have one, or more, and probably some family traditions associated with it, too. Pie’s been around pretty much forever, in all kinds of flavors and forms. And it’s one of the extremely rare foods that’s recognizably the same as it was thousands of years ago.
Early forms of pie date back to Ancient Sumeria, Egypt, and Greece. The first recorded recipes are a lot like what we now recognize as chicken pot pie. Probably the only major difference would be the crust: more heavy and dry than the flaky ones we know, because early ones were designed for preservation, not flavor. Some were made of nothing but flour, water, and salt, with the idea that they might not even be eaten at all!
For most of food history, pie could appear at any time, and in any place on the menu. It was a great way to buy a few more days for things that might be on the verge of going bad, a way to use up bits and bobs from the pantry, and a way to transport foods that could be too messy to be portable.
By the medieval era, pies could be fun as well as serviceable. Giant pies – see four-and-twenty-blackbirds – were often a marquee event at royal weddings or other celebrations. Often laced with then-exotic spices like cinnamon and pepper, and always elaborately decorated.
While fruit pies had probably always been around, created by some unsung woman who wanted to keep the last bit of sweet from the orchard just a little longer, Gregory Chaucer gets credit for the first apple pie recipe, in 1389.
Indigenous people were already making their own versions of pie when the Europeans
turned up with their own recipe books. Soon enough, the cross-pollination led to pumpkin pie and other dishes centered on local crops. This is probably when people really started caring about the taste of the crust – if you’re scratching out a life on a new continent with limited supplies, you won’t waste a crumb.
You also won’t feel obligated to save the pie for dessert.
Meal times and menus were far different in the Colonial period, and even into the 19th century, depending on whether you lived by the old agrarian clock or the new industrial one. (Another post for another day!) But pie made a simple and filling breakfast, as well as an easy evening bite after a long day of work. It was only later that people came around to the more modern idea of finishing a meal with a sweet. When they did, fruit pies were just sitting right there, looking tasty.
By the late 19th century, fruit pies were a field of their own, many of them with special cultural connotations: pumpkin pie and Thanksgiving, mince meat for Christmas, cherry for George Washington’s birthday, and apple pie for any patriotic occasion as a symbol of Americana. With the invention of the eggbeater, and wider availability of sugar, meringue pies eventually took their place on the dessert table.
And all along, everyone was still having chicken pot pie for dinner. Even now, it’s a beloved comfort dinner for many families, including mine. The next time you sit down to a slice – or one of those cute single-serve pies – remember, you’re eating like an Ancient Egyptian!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
January 15, 2025
PUT ON A SWEATER
If mid-January isn’t sweater weather in much of the Northern Hemisphere, you’re probably not getting any this year. And at this point in the season, there are few people of any gender who aren’t getting plenty of wear from a favorite fuzzy topper. But sweaters weren’t always a beloved wardrobe piece, especially for women.
Knitted garments are nothing new: archaeologists have found them in Ancient Egyptian tombs. But the first real, recognizable sweaters date from the fifteenth century, in the English Channel islands of Guernsey and Jersey. Initially, fishermen’s wives knitted thick wool sweaters to keep their men warm while they worked.
It’s no surprise the garments, which looked a lot like the Irish Aran sweaters we see to this day, gradually spread though the cool parts of Europe: they’re practical and very, very warm. Also no surprise that people started calling them “Guernseys,” or “Jerseys.” Even now, “jersey” is still a British term for sweater, though “jumper” is more common.
From fishermen, it was a short jump to sailors, and Lord Nelson made the Guernsey standard equipment in the British Navy in the early 19th century. From the navy, they spread to the rowing sculls and the sports fields, as favored warm-up gear. When they arrived in the States, they got a new name, referring to their use: sweaters.
All these sweaters, of course, are big, heavy, masculine affairs of thick wool.
Women started borrowing them in the late 19th century, just as they borrowed other male sports gear, and for a while, women only wore sweaters for outdoor activities requiring serious warmth. Adorable Victorian prints show women in heavy sweaters with coordinating hats and scarves ice-skating or throwing snowballs.
Women didn’t really start making the sweater their own until the turn of the 20th century and beyond. The first couture sweater was made by Lanvin in 1926, but Coco Chanel is far better known for making them a key part of her clean, modern style.
By the 1930s, the “twin set” we all know and love was invented. The combination of short-sleeve or sleeveless shell and cardigan was an almost instant classic. Simple, comfortable, and versatile, it was a look that went with just about anything. Better, it could be made in expensive cashmere, serviceable cotton, or something in between, so it was within reach for many, if not most, women.
During World War II, more women made their own sweaters because of wartime rationing, and they often needed them to stay warm! After the war, though, ladies’ sweaters blossomed with the prosperity, and girly femininity of the time. This was the era of beads and bows and sequins. If your grandmother was kind enough to leave hers to you, treat them well and save them forever – they are quite literally priceless now.
Sweaters went through Pop Art and bohemian phases in the 1960s and 1970s, and the less said about 1980s neon the better…but they were very definitely here to stay. Whether it’s the classic cashmere twinset (your own or Grandma’s!) or the fuzzy house sweater that got you through the lockdown, everybody has their favorite. And some of us are even skilled enough to knit our own – or lucky enough to have a loved one who does.
And I’m wearing my favorite one right now!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Knitted garments are nothing new: archaeologists have found them in Ancient Egyptian tombs. But the first real, recognizable sweaters date from the fifteenth century, in the English Channel islands of Guernsey and Jersey. Initially, fishermen’s wives knitted thick wool sweaters to keep their men warm while they worked.
It’s no surprise the garments, which looked a lot like the Irish Aran sweaters we see to this day, gradually spread though the cool parts of Europe: they’re practical and very, very warm. Also no surprise that people started calling them “Guernseys,” or “Jerseys.” Even now, “jersey” is still a British term for sweater, though “jumper” is more common.
From fishermen, it was a short jump to sailors, and Lord Nelson made the Guernsey standard equipment in the British Navy in the early 19th century. From the navy, they spread to the rowing sculls and the sports fields, as favored warm-up gear. When they arrived in the States, they got a new name, referring to their use: sweaters.
All these sweaters, of course, are big, heavy, masculine affairs of thick wool.
Women started borrowing them in the late 19th century, just as they borrowed other male sports gear, and for a while, women only wore sweaters for outdoor activities requiring serious warmth. Adorable Victorian prints show women in heavy sweaters with coordinating hats and scarves ice-skating or throwing snowballs.
Women didn’t really start making the sweater their own until the turn of the 20th century and beyond. The first couture sweater was made by Lanvin in 1926, but Coco Chanel is far better known for making them a key part of her clean, modern style.
By the 1930s, the “twin set” we all know and love was invented. The combination of short-sleeve or sleeveless shell and cardigan was an almost instant classic. Simple, comfortable, and versatile, it was a look that went with just about anything. Better, it could be made in expensive cashmere, serviceable cotton, or something in between, so it was within reach for many, if not most, women.
During World War II, more women made their own sweaters because of wartime rationing, and they often needed them to stay warm! After the war, though, ladies’ sweaters blossomed with the prosperity, and girly femininity of the time. This was the era of beads and bows and sequins. If your grandmother was kind enough to leave hers to you, treat them well and save them forever – they are quite literally priceless now.
Sweaters went through Pop Art and bohemian phases in the 1960s and 1970s, and the less said about 1980s neon the better…but they were very definitely here to stay. Whether it’s the classic cashmere twinset (your own or Grandma’s!) or the fuzzy house sweater that got you through the lockdown, everybody has their favorite. And some of us are even skilled enough to knit our own – or lucky enough to have a loved one who does.
And I’m wearing my favorite one right now!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
January 8, 2025
STAYING WARM
Right about now, you’re probably singing the praises of central heating.
Unless you live in Australia or near the Equator, you’ve likely been dealing with arctic air and subzero wind chills. We’re a little early this year -- meteorologists will tell you the third week of January is usually the coldest of the year. Humans have been looking for ways to stay warm since we became human – some anthropologists consider controlling fire and using it for cooking and heating one of the bright-line differences between homo sapiens and earlier hominids.
And humans have been improving our heating systems for thousands of years.
In ancient Korea – around 5000 B.C.E – they had what was called the ondol, a nifty stove and heated floor system that kept a house warm and provided a place for cooking. Sorry to disappoint the fancy house reno shows, but heated floors have been around for a very, very long time.
The ancient Greeks developed the first real central heating system with flues in the walls moving heat from a fire in the ground. Engineering whizzes that they were, the Romans upgraded it with the hypocaust system, using a furnace and forcing hot air into spaces between the walls and floors.
After the collapse of the Roman Empire, Europe’s Dark Ages weren’t only dark – they were also pretty cold, with many innovations forgotten for centuries. Things were a lot more comfortable in the Muslim world, where engineers had come up with an efficient under-floor pipe system used in some important buildings.
It wasn’t until the 14th century that the Europeans started working with central heating again, but even then, it was mostly in cathedrals and monasteries. Most homes, up to and including palaces, still relied on big fireplaces and small stoves, through the Renaissance and well into the industrial era. No wonder there are so many portraits of cranky, unhappy-looking people. I’d scowl too if I was freezing most of the time.
For many people, even into the 20th century, heat came from stoves or fireplaces in individual rooms, and cold was just a part of life. Diarists speak matter-of-factly about chipping through the ice on their water pitcher for a morning wash. That’s also one reason why it was so common for people to share beds with family or roommates until the high Victorian niceties took hold: single beds were a waste of a perfectly good warm body!
Central heating for homes finally started to take off in the late 18th to mid-19th centuries, as inventors created hot air, steam, and hot water heating systems, often taking inspiration from the old Greek and Roman works and adapting them to modern technology. Some of these early systems were so efficient that they stayed in use for 150 years. That only sounds crazy until you realize that some of the railroad equipment we ride on has been around for close to the same amount of time.
By the late 1800s, various heating systems powered by gas, oil, or electricity, were becoming more reasonably priced, and more common. Inventors were also creating the equipment we now recognize as important parts of heating systems: thermostats, steel furnaces, gasoline burners. One of the biggest modern inventions came from Russia, in 1885: the radiator. And in 1919, Alice Parker got the first U.S. Patent for a central heating system – let’s hear it for the STEM girls!
At least at my house, it’s now come full circle: on very cold days, we fire up the woodstove and huddle in the basement. The more things change…
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Unless you live in Australia or near the Equator, you’ve likely been dealing with arctic air and subzero wind chills. We’re a little early this year -- meteorologists will tell you the third week of January is usually the coldest of the year. Humans have been looking for ways to stay warm since we became human – some anthropologists consider controlling fire and using it for cooking and heating one of the bright-line differences between homo sapiens and earlier hominids.
And humans have been improving our heating systems for thousands of years.
In ancient Korea – around 5000 B.C.E – they had what was called the ondol, a nifty stove and heated floor system that kept a house warm and provided a place for cooking. Sorry to disappoint the fancy house reno shows, but heated floors have been around for a very, very long time.
The ancient Greeks developed the first real central heating system with flues in the walls moving heat from a fire in the ground. Engineering whizzes that they were, the Romans upgraded it with the hypocaust system, using a furnace and forcing hot air into spaces between the walls and floors.
After the collapse of the Roman Empire, Europe’s Dark Ages weren’t only dark – they were also pretty cold, with many innovations forgotten for centuries. Things were a lot more comfortable in the Muslim world, where engineers had come up with an efficient under-floor pipe system used in some important buildings.
It wasn’t until the 14th century that the Europeans started working with central heating again, but even then, it was mostly in cathedrals and monasteries. Most homes, up to and including palaces, still relied on big fireplaces and small stoves, through the Renaissance and well into the industrial era. No wonder there are so many portraits of cranky, unhappy-looking people. I’d scowl too if I was freezing most of the time.
For many people, even into the 20th century, heat came from stoves or fireplaces in individual rooms, and cold was just a part of life. Diarists speak matter-of-factly about chipping through the ice on their water pitcher for a morning wash. That’s also one reason why it was so common for people to share beds with family or roommates until the high Victorian niceties took hold: single beds were a waste of a perfectly good warm body!
Central heating for homes finally started to take off in the late 18th to mid-19th centuries, as inventors created hot air, steam, and hot water heating systems, often taking inspiration from the old Greek and Roman works and adapting them to modern technology. Some of these early systems were so efficient that they stayed in use for 150 years. That only sounds crazy until you realize that some of the railroad equipment we ride on has been around for close to the same amount of time.
By the late 1800s, various heating systems powered by gas, oil, or electricity, were becoming more reasonably priced, and more common. Inventors were also creating the equipment we now recognize as important parts of heating systems: thermostats, steel furnaces, gasoline burners. One of the biggest modern inventions came from Russia, in 1885: the radiator. And in 1919, Alice Parker got the first U.S. Patent for a central heating system – let’s hear it for the STEM girls!
At least at my house, it’s now come full circle: on very cold days, we fire up the woodstove and huddle in the basement. The more things change…
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
January 1, 2025
LAYER UP
Now that it’s January, it’s officially long underwear season in much of the Northern Hemisphere – and for sure in my corner of the Northeast. For most people, long johns are a lot more underclothing than we normally wear, and it feels good to put a layer of wool, silk or high-tech fabric between our skin and the cold wind. But for a lot of women in the late 19th century, underpinnings that looked lot like our long johns would actually have been a sleek new thing.
From the Regency until the late Victorian period, women wore long drawers, plus several layers of petticoats, and at least a chemise, corset and corset-cover on top. Even though everything but the corset was made of some very thin woven fabric, there was still a lot of it, and you still had to get it all tucked in and smoothed down before you put on the next layer. And the next.
The idea of replacing the first layer or two with one piece of flexible knit was a real upgrade. The union suit began as a one-piece flannel garment, proposed as a Victorian dress-reform idea. But it quickly evolved and spread as people realized just how efficient and comfortable it was. Flannel was gone pretty fast, replaced with stretchy knit, in cotton, wool or even silk. The styling became more streamlined, too, closer-fitted, with fewer fastenings and seams, all to make it a comfortable and sleek first layer.
Not too comfy, though! Victorians were more than a little suspicious of anything that enabled people – especially female people – to get rid of layers of clothing. Which is why the ads for union suits led with a health pitch, not a comfort or style one. Style was definitely part of it, though; the union suit really took off in the 1870s when women were wearing very snug dresses and the chemise and drawers created all kinds of nasty bumps under what was supposed to be a smooth fit.
By the late 1890s the union suit had evolved to “combinations” – as in a combination of chemise and drawers – and it wasn’t really scandalous at all. It was a very practical first layer for anyone who wanted her clothes to fit smoothly. Women always topped them with the corset, sometimes corset-covers, and layers of petticoats, so it still wasn’t exactly traveling light, but the thin knit was a lot easier to manage than tucking down chemise and drawers. Those were often still part of the mix somewhere…but combinations were quickly becoming the standard start.
Soon, though, women would get bored with pulling their stockings on over an extra layer of knit…and the combinations would start creeping up the legs. By the 1910s, they’re above the knee, and the whole thing is quickly evolving out of existence. Flappers didn’t want to run around in their mothers’ underwear, and those knitted combinations went out the window with long hair, replaced by silky chemises and knickers – but only one layer, thank you!
So when you pull out the long johns, remember, you’re actually putting on a little bit of history in addition to all that extra warmth!
Got an idea for a #ThrowbackThursday post? Drop it in the comments!
From the Regency until the late Victorian period, women wore long drawers, plus several layers of petticoats, and at least a chemise, corset and corset-cover on top. Even though everything but the corset was made of some very thin woven fabric, there was still a lot of it, and you still had to get it all tucked in and smoothed down before you put on the next layer. And the next.
The idea of replacing the first layer or two with one piece of flexible knit was a real upgrade. The union suit began as a one-piece flannel garment, proposed as a Victorian dress-reform idea. But it quickly evolved and spread as people realized just how efficient and comfortable it was. Flannel was gone pretty fast, replaced with stretchy knit, in cotton, wool or even silk. The styling became more streamlined, too, closer-fitted, with fewer fastenings and seams, all to make it a comfortable and sleek first layer.
Not too comfy, though! Victorians were more than a little suspicious of anything that enabled people – especially female people – to get rid of layers of clothing. Which is why the ads for union suits led with a health pitch, not a comfort or style one. Style was definitely part of it, though; the union suit really took off in the 1870s when women were wearing very snug dresses and the chemise and drawers created all kinds of nasty bumps under what was supposed to be a smooth fit.
By the late 1890s the union suit had evolved to “combinations” – as in a combination of chemise and drawers – and it wasn’t really scandalous at all. It was a very practical first layer for anyone who wanted her clothes to fit smoothly. Women always topped them with the corset, sometimes corset-covers, and layers of petticoats, so it still wasn’t exactly traveling light, but the thin knit was a lot easier to manage than tucking down chemise and drawers. Those were often still part of the mix somewhere…but combinations were quickly becoming the standard start.
Soon, though, women would get bored with pulling their stockings on over an extra layer of knit…and the combinations would start creeping up the legs. By the 1910s, they’re above the knee, and the whole thing is quickly evolving out of existence. Flappers didn’t want to run around in their mothers’ underwear, and those knitted combinations went out the window with long hair, replaced by silky chemises and knickers – but only one layer, thank you!
So when you pull out the long johns, remember, you’re actually putting on a little bit of history in addition to all that extra warmth!
Got an idea for a #ThrowbackThursday post? Drop it in the comments!
December 25, 2024
A WORK FAMILY HOLIDAY
Scrooge wasn’t the only boss who expected people to work Christmas Day or else – though he might have been the meanest. When Charles Dickens wrote “A Christmas Carol,” the round-the-clock business of the Industrial Revolution had begun, and the workers’ movements that led to paid holidays and decent conditions were still far in the future.
Poor Bob Cratchit was the extreme case, but plenty of people, in factories, docks, and town houses, would have been working on that Victorian Christmas Day.
Even before our Covid-influenced 24/7 cycle of email and work from home, there were always jobs that had to be done each day, every day. Servants, for example, had to get their “betters” homes clean and their fancy dinner cooked and laid out. They might get a half day and a small gift from the mistress if they were lucky.
As social conditions improved, and more people took – and expected – time off, the idea of working holidays became unusual, or actively bad.
Still, though, some places simply can’t shut down for the holidays: police and fire stations, hospitals – and newsrooms.
Some people even choose to work the holidays for any number of good reasons.
Many of my Jewish colleagues offer to work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day so our Christian friends can be with their families. It happens a lot, at least in radio – the owner of a Vermont station where I worked was Jewish, and he had the engineer teach him the bare minimum he needed to know to stay on the air so his employees could be free for the day.
Holiday work can also be part of a larger picture. I’m not the only mother who chooses to work weekends and holidays so I can be home at the end of the school day.
Working holidays is really just part of the deal in many industries – and especially broadcasting. Early in your career, you’re taking those shifts as a foothold at a better station…later you’re scoring an occasional shift just to stay in the game.
At least for us, it can be a good thing. Some of my favorite holiday moments have been in newsrooms, especially Christmases with the 1010 WINS team. We’ve become a “work family.” Even though I was technically home for Christmas in 2020 because we were working remotely, it didn’t feel like home – or a holiday -- without the gang. Special shout-out here to Jon Belmont, living treasure anchor, king of the headline, and master of gallows humor, who worked every Christmas for decades. Still miss you.
Honestly, holidays are just fun to work. The bosses are out of the building, the mood is looser and more fun, and inevitably, things happen.
Say, the year I worked a double shift at the tiny radio station in my Western PA hometown. We were running all-Christmas music on reel-to-reel tapes -- yes, this was a very long time ago! The tenth or twelfth time I heard “Happy Christmas, War is Over,” I realized something.
John, Yoko, and the kids weren’t singing what I'd always thought they were.
Country girl that I am, I’d thought the lyric was:
“It wouldn’t be Christmas without any beer.”
Whatever your holiday brings, may it be safe, happy, and full of joy!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Poor Bob Cratchit was the extreme case, but plenty of people, in factories, docks, and town houses, would have been working on that Victorian Christmas Day.
Even before our Covid-influenced 24/7 cycle of email and work from home, there were always jobs that had to be done each day, every day. Servants, for example, had to get their “betters” homes clean and their fancy dinner cooked and laid out. They might get a half day and a small gift from the mistress if they were lucky.
As social conditions improved, and more people took – and expected – time off, the idea of working holidays became unusual, or actively bad.
Still, though, some places simply can’t shut down for the holidays: police and fire stations, hospitals – and newsrooms.
Some people even choose to work the holidays for any number of good reasons.
Many of my Jewish colleagues offer to work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day so our Christian friends can be with their families. It happens a lot, at least in radio – the owner of a Vermont station where I worked was Jewish, and he had the engineer teach him the bare minimum he needed to know to stay on the air so his employees could be free for the day.
Holiday work can also be part of a larger picture. I’m not the only mother who chooses to work weekends and holidays so I can be home at the end of the school day.
Working holidays is really just part of the deal in many industries – and especially broadcasting. Early in your career, you’re taking those shifts as a foothold at a better station…later you’re scoring an occasional shift just to stay in the game.
At least for us, it can be a good thing. Some of my favorite holiday moments have been in newsrooms, especially Christmases with the 1010 WINS team. We’ve become a “work family.” Even though I was technically home for Christmas in 2020 because we were working remotely, it didn’t feel like home – or a holiday -- without the gang. Special shout-out here to Jon Belmont, living treasure anchor, king of the headline, and master of gallows humor, who worked every Christmas for decades. Still miss you.
Honestly, holidays are just fun to work. The bosses are out of the building, the mood is looser and more fun, and inevitably, things happen.
Say, the year I worked a double shift at the tiny radio station in my Western PA hometown. We were running all-Christmas music on reel-to-reel tapes -- yes, this was a very long time ago! The tenth or twelfth time I heard “Happy Christmas, War is Over,” I realized something.
John, Yoko, and the kids weren’t singing what I'd always thought they were.
Country girl that I am, I’d thought the lyric was:
“It wouldn’t be Christmas without any beer.”
Whatever your holiday brings, may it be safe, happy, and full of joy!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
December 18, 2024
HOLIDAY FLOWERS
Every year, my grandfather bought my grandmother a huge, beautiful red poinsettia. It was an annual family tradition; we all hopped in his big green Buick (coincidentally known as The Green Grinch) and drove to a garden center way out in the country, where we’d walk through a hot house in our winter coats, looking at rows and rows of glorious red flowers.
They were incredible, a splash of exotic red beauty in the middle of a gray Western Pennsylvania winter. And Grandpa took such joy in giving her the plant, which usually ended up in their picture window for the season, actually enjoying more pride of place than the tree.
No wonder – the Christmas tree was for everyone. The poinsettia was a special thing between Grandma and Grandpa.
Poinsettias are special.
The Aztecs were the first ones to cultivate them, for red dye and medicine.
By the late 16th century, they were associated with Christmas in Mexico, with Franciscan friars putting the bright red plants in their churches. Even now, they’re known as “Noche Buena” flower in Mexico and parts of Central America – the Christmas Eve flower.
So how did we end up calling them poinsettias?
Well, that’s thanks to one Joel Poinsett, a botanist and U.S. Minister to Mexico, who sent some back to his South Carolina greenhouse in the 1820s. Soon, the bright flowers became a holiday standard, and growing them a massive industry. In 1900, the Ecke family started growing poinsettas in California, and developed a special grafting technique to make beautiful bushy ones. For the next ninety years, they owned the poinsettia market, until someone finally figured out how they did the grafts and published the method, allowing competitors to horn in, and eventually move production to countries where labor costs were lower.
Poinsettias are still the world’s most economically important potted plant, with some 70 million sold every holiday season in the U.S. These days, of course, they’re not all red: pink, white, and mixed ones are practically routine – and some gardens even dye them blue. (Which feels kind of like cheating but doesn’t hurt the plant or anyone around it.)
Popular as they are, though, poinsettias still have a couple of misconceptions.
The big one is that they’re deadly to children and animals.
They’re not.
Researchers have tested the equivalent of five hundred poinsettia leaves and found nothing dangerous. Which does not mean you should feed the kid a poinsettia salad. The sap can be irritating to some people, and commercially grown plants often have chemical fertilizers and other things you don’t want to eat.
But nobody’s going to drop dead if they accidentally chew on a leaf. That’s an urban legend.
The other poinsettia misconception?
Those big pretty red blooms.
They’re not blooms at all. They’re actually bracts, a special kind of leaf, and they turn color when the plant gets long periods of night followed by bright sunshine. So greenhouses have to carefully calibrate the light and dark cycles to get the most brilliant colors.
So, yes, Grandpa was right when he got Grandma her poinsettia every year. They really are something special!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
They were incredible, a splash of exotic red beauty in the middle of a gray Western Pennsylvania winter. And Grandpa took such joy in giving her the plant, which usually ended up in their picture window for the season, actually enjoying more pride of place than the tree.
No wonder – the Christmas tree was for everyone. The poinsettia was a special thing between Grandma and Grandpa.
Poinsettias are special.
The Aztecs were the first ones to cultivate them, for red dye and medicine.
By the late 16th century, they were associated with Christmas in Mexico, with Franciscan friars putting the bright red plants in their churches. Even now, they’re known as “Noche Buena” flower in Mexico and parts of Central America – the Christmas Eve flower.
So how did we end up calling them poinsettias?
Well, that’s thanks to one Joel Poinsett, a botanist and U.S. Minister to Mexico, who sent some back to his South Carolina greenhouse in the 1820s. Soon, the bright flowers became a holiday standard, and growing them a massive industry. In 1900, the Ecke family started growing poinsettas in California, and developed a special grafting technique to make beautiful bushy ones. For the next ninety years, they owned the poinsettia market, until someone finally figured out how they did the grafts and published the method, allowing competitors to horn in, and eventually move production to countries where labor costs were lower.
Poinsettias are still the world’s most economically important potted plant, with some 70 million sold every holiday season in the U.S. These days, of course, they’re not all red: pink, white, and mixed ones are practically routine – and some gardens even dye them blue. (Which feels kind of like cheating but doesn’t hurt the plant or anyone around it.)
Popular as they are, though, poinsettias still have a couple of misconceptions.
The big one is that they’re deadly to children and animals.
They’re not.
Researchers have tested the equivalent of five hundred poinsettia leaves and found nothing dangerous. Which does not mean you should feed the kid a poinsettia salad. The sap can be irritating to some people, and commercially grown plants often have chemical fertilizers and other things you don’t want to eat.
But nobody’s going to drop dead if they accidentally chew on a leaf. That’s an urban legend.
The other poinsettia misconception?
Those big pretty red blooms.
They’re not blooms at all. They’re actually bracts, a special kind of leaf, and they turn color when the plant gets long periods of night followed by bright sunshine. So greenhouses have to carefully calibrate the light and dark cycles to get the most brilliant colors.
So, yes, Grandpa was right when he got Grandma her poinsettia every year. They really are something special!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
