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Does this old school ring any bells?

Andrew Vietze Down East Books ePub

And Maine teachers today think they have it rough. Shortly before this school was built in 1917, educators — primarily women in those days — were given a rather severe set of guidelines by the state to which they were expected to adhere: 1. You will not marry during the term of your contract. 2. You are not to keep company with men. 3. You must be home between the hours of 8 P.M. and 6 A.M. unless attending a school function. 4. You many not loiter downtown in ice cream stores. 5. You may not travel beyond city limits unless you have the permission of the chairman of the board. On and on went the prohibitions.

The city in question here is in northern Maine, and the school pictured sits in a neighborhood called Spragueville. According to local history, kids attended the old schoolhouse through the eighth grade up until after World War II, when area schools were consolidated into School Administrative District No. 1. After that the place was used as a church for a decade, and then left to the winds and snows that tear across the rolling hills for which this part of Maine is famous. In the eighties a group of area residents decided the school was worth restoring and set to it, finishing the job in 1987. In recent years the graceful clapboarded building has been the setting for a program somewhat ironically called “a day in a country school,” which brings local “city” kids to Spragueville. The irony is that this entire region is generally thought of as Maine at its most agrarian and rural. Farming put it on the map (along with a certain military installation) and many of its 9,511 citizens still make their living working in the fields. See page 101.

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J. E. Stimson’s 1910 Return to Cody

Michael A. Amundson University Press of Colorado ePub

J. E. Stimson returned to Cody in the summer of 1910 and made photographs of the Shoshone Irrigation Project and the nearby Big Horn Basin communities of Worland, Kane, Ionia, and Lovell. Since his 1903 visit, much had changed. The federal Bureau of Reclamation had carved a new road between Cedar and Rattlesnake Mountains west of Cody to access Shoshone Dam. Travelers marveled at its twists, turns, tunnels, and excessive grade. When that project was completed in 1910, the waters inundated the communities of Irma and Marquette, as well as much of the original path of the Cody Road as it swung around Cedar Mountain to join the North Fork of the Shoshone. To compensate, the bureau built another new road from the dam around the north side of the reservoir to the old road to the west. In addition to these projects, the state of Wyoming had carved a new county, called Park County for its proximity to Yellowstone, from Big Horn County and named Cody its county seat. As part of his visit, Stimson made a series of photographs of the new road from Cody to the reservoir. Access to some of these sites is now restricted because of issues of terrorism and safety, but I include four of them here.

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THE CODY ROAD

Michael A. Amundson University Press of Colorado ePub

1903 & 2008

1910

1. #613 Bird’s-eye view of Cody

GPS coordinates: 44 31.373n, 109 03.523w

The road to Yellowstone begins in Cody, and this view is a classic Stimson shot. As with many of his town photographs, Stimson composed this one from a nearby hill to give the viewer a “bird’s-eye” view of the town. The vantage point is the north side of Cody’s upper bench below the current community building. The photo looks to the northwest, with Heart Mountain on the right horizon, the Shoshone River in the center, and Rattlesnake Mountain to the left. The absence of the far distant mountains attests to the fact that Stimson’s dry-plate emulsions were very sensitive to blue light; thus they are washed out in his image. Stimson’s shot was taken in the early morning, as evidenced by the well-lit right walls and the long shadows. The lack of any trees taller than a person allows one to see into every property.

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chapter fourteen GRACEFUL WHITETAILS

Silliker, Bill, Jr. Down East Books ePub

Several coyotes howled close by the campground in the predawn that late-summer morning. From the direction of their calls, I had to guess that there were at least three of them. You can never be sure about coyotes, though; they seem to throw their voices, as a ventriloquist does, so counting them by their calls is always a gamble.

I wonder if the deer know that.

The intensity and the locations of the calls on this morning suggested that a number of coyotes lurked in the nearby woods. And so it seemed unlikely that any self-respecting prey species would show itself in the field by the campground.

That was too bad. The field at Nesowadnehunk Campground, in Baxter State Park, often offers a great opportunity to watch and photograph white-tailed deer that have little fear of humans. These deer seem to understand that the folks they meet here are

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Can you identify this peaceful oasis?

Andrew Vietze Down East Books ePub

People often think that they have to visit this lovely coastal garden during late May and early June, when its signature flowers are in bloom. But the garden is such a stunning little anomaly it’s worth stopping by whenever it’s open. Not only is this Japanese-inspired oasis located on a Maine island, it’s widely considered one of the best in the nation — ranked eleventh in a survey of Japanese gardens in North America. Here you’ll find pretty pathways that wander beside reflecting pools and along a stream, little antique lanterns, stone bridges, and benches for quiet contemplation. The garden was originally built in the late fifties to rescue trees and flowers in danger of being destroyed. The transplanter was given a year to move the substantial collection of prized plants — which he did, installing them in what had been an alder patch across from a historic inn. The garden has undergone many transformations over the years, but it has always ranked among the state’s finest. Stop by during daylight hours from May 1 through October. If you think you know the location of this Far East oasis, turn to page 99.

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chapter twelve SEA MAMMALS

Silliker, Bill, Jr. Down East Books ePub

Harbor seals are the most commonly seen marine mammal in Maine waters. Their population has rebounded since 1972, when the Marine Mammal Protection Act went into effect.

While playing Frisbee one early summer morning on Bayview Beach, overlooking Saco Bay, our two rambunctious black Labrador retrievers caught the attention of a curious harbor seal.

It was low tide. The hard-packed sand just above the tideline made a good walking surface, and since the two dogs loved to jump into the breaking waves to catch their bright yellow toy as much as they enjoyed running down the hard sand to try to catch it on the fly, we played at the edge of the surf.

That

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Medium 9781603442015

Leaving a Water Legacy for Texas

Ken W Kramer Texas A&M University Press ePub

Ann Thomas Hamilton

THE color of the water was like fresh-brewed orange pekoe tea—clear dark amber. The river was originally named Lumbee, from an Indian word meaning “black water.” Upon submerging my wiry little white body into the slow-moving current, my skin instantly took on a brown tone—the same color as that of the Lumbee Indians who long ago inhabited North Carolina’s Inner Banks region. One of my fondest childhood memories was of swimming in the river with my sister and cousins during warm summer days when we visited our grandparents in Lumberton in eastern North Carolina. Lumberton, the town where my mother was born, was founded in 1789 and named after the river. I truly believe my love affair with the mystery of naturally flowing water came from those sublime summers in that river some sixty years ago.

Because Lumberton was near the Carolina coast, the family would also visit a beach near Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, the site of the first airplane flight by Orville and Wilbur Wright. Of course, this historic site did not mean much to a little girl who loved the water. I just leaped into the Atlantic Ocean with great abandon without any understanding that the water from the Lumber River on the Inner Banks permeated downstream through the rich coastal marshes and wetlands before becoming a part of this vast ocean on the Outer Banks. It was the crashing waves, the sand, the salt filling my nostrils, eyes, and mouth that captured me as I floated tirelessly day after day in the invigorating surf.

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7 Russians in East Germany Part I—Linkup at the Elbe River

Malcolm L. Fleming Indiana University Press ePub

The scene of the historic linkup. A confab and party for the respective army generals, Russian and US, is going on in a building hidden by those trees across the Elbe, but after rushing 150 miles to get there Kitzero and I were not allowed to cross, being too late to go with the other newsmen who were all carefully counted by the Russians as they crossed over and later as they returned. Our “Eisenhower Passes” didn’t cut much ice with the Russians. They, incidentally, had uninhibited access to our side.

Torgau, Ger—30 April ’45

Four Russian soldiers pose with a couple of GIs in front of the 69th Inf Div’s famous sign at the Elbe R. linkup point.

Torgau, Ger—30 April ’45

Kitzero took this pic of me. The Girl and the sign were the favorite props of all GI photo fans there. She’d been in the Red Army since Stalingrad, where all her folks were killed or captured. She is a sniper and is said to have liquidated 120 Germans. This was a personal fight to her and to most Red soldiers.

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Medium 9781574416565

The Great Depression

Byrd M. Williams IV University of North Texas Press ePub

Byrd III's diary

BYRD III WAS A JOURNALISM STUDENT at Texas Christian University from 1933 through 1937. He started photography in the early 1920s with a crummy, mail order toy camera and eventually acquired a Foth Derby, allowing a more detailed view of his visual experiences. The world was his now, and from that moment on he photographed continually around his neighborhood in south Fort Worth. During the Great Depression he shot extensively in the central business district of Fort Worth with his newly acquired Leica. Dad really hit his stride as an artist during this period, utilizing the sort of high modernist, decisive moment image structure prevalent at the time.

It was during this period that an adventuresome spirit took hold and, without warning, he ran off to the Great Lakes and settled in Ann Arbor, Michigan. He never talked much about this part of his life. I know from his diaries and photographs that he married briefly, bought an unfinished wooden sailboat to live on, and gave his best effort at being a writer/photographer/journalist.

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14 German Village and Country Life

Malcolm L. Fleming Indiana University Press ePub

Children wait for their daily measure of milk. The lady has a horse-drawn wagon which she stops at each street corner, ringing a bell to rouse the nearby housewives.

Gardelegen, Ger—23 May ’45

Little fellow makes his way to the Mulberg town bakery balancing on his head the pie his mother sent him with.

Near Gotha, Ger—9 June ’45

Farmhands are exceedingly scarce these days. Age is no exemption from manual labor. Youngsters usually come to the fields with their folks. Another way of thinking about this photo is as “War’s Residue, the Very Old and Very Young.”

Sangerhausen, Ger—11 May ’45

They couldn’t help giggling at the two American soldiers who stopped their Peep and walked clear out in the field just to take pictures of them. The youngest is ten, and they work about nine hours a day.

Near Gardelegen, Ger—29 May ’45

Husky and hard-working, but not eager to be photographed in such a role. The German people are surprisingly alert to the propaganda possibilities of pictures and hence object to posing for any that might show them in an unfavorable light, not so much as individuals, but as representative Germans.

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Can you recognize this mountain resort?

Andrew Vietze Down East Books ePub

Not many ski areas have views like this. Sel Hannah, the world-famous designer who laid out these runs, even calls this particular skyway “by far the most scenic” of the one thousand trails and three hundred ski areas he’s created. And there’s no better time to see it than when the hillsides are hung with gold and crimson and the many ponds and lakes in this area at the gateway to the North Woods are reflecting oranges and reds. Beautiful as it is, this resort has always had more potential customers than actual ones. But the owners have a controversial plan to change things. They’ve been hoping to get the okay from the Land Use Regulation Commission to put in two hundred condominiums, two new hotels and conference centers, an eighteen-hole golf course, a neighborhood of single-family homes, and even a train station. Ideas for putting stuff atop this mountain have been floating around since the nation’s first fire tower was installed at the 3,196-foot peak in 1905. Have you ever ascended these slopes? If you think you recognize this mountain resort, turn to page 98.

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chapter eleven OTHER FURBEARERS

Silliker, Bill, Jr. Down East Books ePub

Beavers particularly favor the bark of hardwood trees but will also eat the buds and bark of softwoods in spring, as well as various water plants, cultivated crops, and even an occasional dead fish.

The beaver swam back and forth along the shore of the pond as it gathered its winter food supply. Living up to its reputation for busyness, the animal made many trips past our cabin every morning, hauling the limbs it had cut from trees on the far northern shore. When it reacted its lodge on the south side of the pond, it dived under the surface and jammed each new branch into the mud on the bottom to add to its cache.

Each time it swam by, it made an inviting target for my camera, except for one thing: This was a week of dull overcast skies, and the early morning light

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Have you ever hopped the ferry to this island?

Andrew Vietze Down East Books ePub

Ah, the holidays on Long Island. That’s the former name of this lengthy isle in the middle of the state’s coast, and it couldn’t be any more apt — the skinny island splits one of Maine’s largest bays in half, stretching for ten miles. The ferry taking islanders three miles across the water to the mainland looks cold this time of year, even under the sunniest of skies. The village not far from this landing has been home to an exclusive summer colony since it was “discovered” by Jeffrey Brackett, a trend-setting Bostonian, in 1889. He was followed by the likes of J.P. Morgan and some of the biggest names in American industry. In more recent years Hollywood has found it. You don’t have to be one of the Hardy Boys to figure out what Cheers the rich and famous about the place: She’s So Lovely. The year-round residents (who number six hundred, according to the most recent census) tend to go about their business and leave the celebrities alone, building boats, working carpentry, or commuting to jobs on the mainland, boarding the ferry in the shadow of this square brick tower. The lighthouse was ordered built by President Franklin Pierce in 1851, and it was redone under command of Ulysses S. Grant in 1874, which was about the time the largest shipping fleet in the bay was working out of the island’s harbors. At the lightkeeper’s house is a small museum where you can learn about this sort of thing — in the summertime, of course. For now you’ll just have to content yourself with the views. To learn more about this festive island, turn to page 99.

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The Rio Grande Fragile Lifeline in the Desert

Ken W Kramer Texas A&M University Press ePub

Mary E. Kelly

NEAR the ghost town of Candelaria, Texas, there is a small footbridge that crosses the Rio Grande. I’m standing in the middle of the bridge—which is less than fifty feet across and three feet wide—gazing at the sluggish brown stream below. The banks are choked by salt cedar, with only the occasional tenacious willow or cottonwood poking through. It’s brutally hot. Now and then, I glance back over my shoulder to make sure the Border Patrol hasn’t come around and wondered if the owner of the pickup truck parked on the Mexican side of the river is around.

The sun must be starting to take its toll. Is this really a part of the river that I have spent much of my career trying to understand and protect? There are thousands of miles of bigger, cleaner, more beautiful streams all over this state and country, none of them with the ridiculously complicated challenges facing the once mighty Rio Grande, or Rio Bravo del Norte, as it is known in Mexico. Why care about a river that can look this miserable?

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Hooked on Rivers

Ken W Kramer Texas A&M University Press ePub

Myron J. Hess

I LOVE being outdoors. Those rare times when I am able to step back from the frenzied pace of everyday life and feel in rhythm with nature give me an incredible sense of peace, of calmness. And, if you throw in a flowing river or stream, I can get close to achieving a state of nirvana. The love of nature came early. The appreciation of the special role of flowing streams developed a bit later.

As the youngest of seven children growing up in Cooke County in rural North Texas near the Oklahoma border at a time when TV watching was still an occasional event and computer games were science fiction material, I spent the bulk of my early childhood outside. When my siblings were home, I followed them around as much as they would let me. When they had all started school and I was still at home, the yard became my preschool and kindergarten classroom. Fortunately for me, farmyards can be incredibly interesting places: chickens and ducks to observe, ground squirrels and lizards to stalk, insects and toads to catch, and bird and mouse nests to discover. I think my dad was relieved to see me start school so he didn’t have to spend so much of his time answering my questions about what I had found or seen, and he could get back to farming full time.

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