Writing from the Past

[Seattle Zack]

I read a lot of history, but one of the things I enjoy most is newspaper accounts of events in American history. The style of 1800s journalism is quite unique, and I always get a kick out of reading old first-hand reportage.

The UW Huskies are playing the Nevada Wolf Pack this weekend; the last time these two teams met was in 1903. Today, the Seattle P-I reprinted an account of Chief Joseph attending that game on Nov. 20, 1903. I found it fascinating -- mixed in with the casually racist tone of the article was some delightful imagery and unique turns of phrase.

Made me wonder: will the journalistic efforts of today seem as absurd 100 years from now? (With the notable exception of Fox News, of course, whose efforts seem absurd the moment they're aired.)

Anyway, here's the article:

(Chief Joseph was best known for his resistance to the U.S. Government's attempts to force his tribe onto a reservation.)

"With his friend, Professor Edmond B. Meany, whom Chief Joseph has nicknamed 'Three Knives,' and his nephew, Red Thunder, the old chief went to Athletic Park and saw his first football game.

"The old war chieftain, who has been made the subject of song and story, got his first touch of the rush and bustle of Seattle life when he tried to board a Yesler Way car to go out to the game. With Red Thunder and a couple of reporters pushing him, Chief Joseph landed on the step of the car and almost fell in the lap of a woman. The old chief was jammed into a seat and Three Knives kept him from being trampled to death in the mad rush of men and boys.

"The old chief is a very serious-minded Indian. That is one of the noticeable things about Chief Joseph -- he has but little to say. About two words will last him an entire afternoon. He did not tax his voice any yesterday afternoon in conversation, and his entire vocabulary seemed to be made up of 'Ugh' when acknowledging an introduction.

"Arriving at the park, Three Knives marched out on the sidelines, towering a head above every man there, and behind him stalked Chief Joseph. The old chief is bow-legged and broadchested and his small feet were encased yesterday in nice new boots. As the chief came on the field some of the football men trotted out in the mud to greet him, and the undergraduates let out a roar through their megaphones that could be heard a mile away.

"The rooters' chorus began to bark, 'rah, rah, rah,' and the old chief turned his head in that direction. Three Knives grew enthusiastic in telling Joseph that the cheers were all on his account, and the old man looked pleased.

"Chief Joseph does not speak a word of English. His friends say that he understands the language but will not admit it. Chief Joseph smiled three times during the afternoon, and Red Thunder says that is the record for the old man. For the rest of the time he looked as pleasant as a totem pole.

"Red Thunder produced three cigars and held up a match while Chief Joseph puffed up. The old chief was a little awkward handling a cigar; the old warrior handled that cigar like a bear wrestling with a roasting ear, and he did not seem to enjoy the smoke much for someone was always bothering him to know if he had a light.

"When the whistle sounded ending the game, the undergraduates swarmed all over the field to carry the victorious gladiators on their shoulders. Three Knives, dancing around Joseph, told him Washington had won, and gabbed at him in Chinook, using hands and feet to make his story plain. The old man nodded his head gravely a time or two, then started for home."

Early in the day a reporter for the Post-Intelligencer wanted to talk to Chief Joseph, but he would not stand for it. However, Chief Joseph finally dictated his opinion of the game to somebody the P-I identified as "Indian Agent Steele."

"I saw a lot of white men almost fight today," Chief Joseph said. "I do not think this is good. This may be all right, but I believe it is not. I feel pleased that Washington won the game. Those men I should think would break their legs and arms, but they did not get mad. I had a good time at the game with my white friends."

(That last bit sounds like complete bullshit to me, but the Chief was hardly likely to sue for slander.)

 

[Guest]

 

[Colleen Thomas]

Zack,

Try Gaily gaily by Ben Hechet. It's the story of a 20's newspaperman from his own eyes and is fascinating.

On the subject of newspapers I live in a 1600's house that has been subdivided. A while back we decided to put new wall board in the closet so the land lady got her boys to do the work. It turns out they used newspaper for insulation and I managed to save some of them. The one that is the most eerie is from Dec. 6. 1941. The byline is NYC and the headline is JAPS WILL NOT ATTACK U.S. There is a photo of Admiral Yamammoto as the Naval Atache to washington and another of the Japanese ambasador Nokomura (sp)

I want to get it preserved, but it is so brittle now that you can barely touch it without it falling apart.

-Colly

 

[Guest]

Zack, thank you. I too enjoyed this interesting piece of writing, rather well done for visuals and evocation. I agree with you re. the b.s. quote at the end.

regards, Perdita

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

Thanks for sharing that, Zack. I enjoyed it as a football fan, a sports writer, and an admirer of Chief Joseph.

For what it's worth, here are the first three paragraphs from another sports writers account of a college football game held twenty years later.

--

Outlined against a blue-gray October sky, the Four Horsemen rode again. In dramatic lore they are known as Famine, Pestilence, Destruction and Death. These are only aliases. Their real names are Stuhldreher, Miller, Crowley and Layden. They formed the crest of the South Bend cyclone before which another fighting Army football team was swept over the precipice at the Polo Grounds yesterday afternoon as 55,000 spectators peered down on the bewildering panorama spread on the green plain below.

A cyclone can't be snared. It may be surrounded, but somewhere it breaks through to keep on going. When the cyclone starts from South Bend, where the candle lights still gleam through the Indiana sycamores, those in the way must take to storm cellars at top speed.

Yesterday the cyclone struck again as Notre Dame beat the Army, 13 to 7, with a set of backfield stars that ripped and crashed through a strong Army defense with more speed and power than the warring cadets could meet.

--

Anyone interested in reading the entire article by Grantland Rice can go to: http://lamb.archives.nd.edu/rockne/rice.html

Rumple Foreskin

 

[Seattle Zack]

That's some good stuff, Rumple. Notre Dame, the Four Horsemen ... timeless. Sportswriting is so often denigrated as mundane and transitory, yet I think the inherent drama of sports lends itself to some of the most evocative imagery.

Hunter S. Thompson started as a sportswriter -- Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is (ostensibly) an account of him covering an auto race for a magazine (with lots of ether and halucinogens thrown in for good measure). In fact, Thompson still writes a column for ESPN. David Halberstam is another of my favorite authors, and Ball Four by Jim Bouton is probably the best baseball book ever written.

--Zack

P.S. The ending score of the UW-Nevada game was 2-0

 

[snooper]

... West Point, the Army's Military Academy (like Sandhurst).

No. NOT "like" Sandhurst. A pale imitation of Sandhurst. It's more like St.Cyr.

 

[snooper]

... I want to get it preserved, but it is so brittle now that you can barely touch it without it falling apart.

I bought an old house once which had newspapers from the 1930s under the linoleum. Since the local newspaper offices were bombed during the war (in Southampton) some of them were the only known copies, so the Local History Society were anxious to preserve them. They arrived with a three foot wide roll of transparent Fablon (sticky plastic) and laid it carefully (sticky side down) on each individual sheet. Then they took each sheet up attached to the sticky side of this stuff. Finally they stuck another sheet on the back and thus encapsulated the whole sheet. I gather it cost quite a lot, but it would preserve the newsprint for another thirty or forty years.

 

[OldnotDead]

Zack,

Thanks for sharing. Interesting as always to read a contemporary account.

I want to get it preserved, but it is so brittle now that you can barely touch it without it falling apart.

-Colly

Colly,

It's the acid in the paper that destroys it. As brittle as you describe it, it may be beyond saving and not worth the investment if there are other originals. But if you want to save it, you need to track down someone locally that preserves old papers.

During college I worked for an historical site that maintained a library of a lot of civil war era documents. We had someone that would soak the papers to remove the acid and then laminate them in an acid free, rice based film. Best place to check for local resources is any library that has a decent collection of original documents.

Good luck,