128 Chapters
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8 Russians in East Germany Part II—Russians Occupy the Land

Malcolm L. Fleming Indiana University Press ePub

Some of the advance party of Russians stop to exchange a few German words with part of a small group of GIs left behind temporarily as security. The signpost holds German, American, and now Russian signs pointing to Arnstadt.

Ichterhausen, Ger—4 July ’45

This Russian occupation took place about two months after the linkup.

Russian tank rolls by our Peep.

Ichterhausen, Ger—4 July ’45

Wagon after wagon rolls by as the Russian occupation of Thuringia goes on. All US Troops have left except three photogs and a few Medics and hospital cases awaiting evacuation by C-47s that are several days overdue.

Gotha, Ger—5 July ’45

“We Greet the Red Army,” the big red banner reads in German and Russian. “We Fear the Red Army” would be more literally true of the German sentiment. Accused of being two-faced, the people absolve themselves of any guilt by saying that the Bergermeister ordered the banner hung. The Little People don’t feel they have or want a say in the way things are run.

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3: Luminosity ~ Inner Light

Henry Plummer Indiana University Press ePub

3

LUMINOSITY ~ INNER LIGHT

Corner of Attic Center Family Dwelling House South Union, Kentucky

MAXIMUM FENESTRATION

In their efforts to squeeze as much daylight as possible into buildings, Shakers pierced the outer walls with closely spaced windows, allowing illumination to stream in from every side. As the most sacred place in the Shaker settlement, and the nearest thing to heaven on earth, the meetinghouse was made especially airy and bright by a continuous band of repeating windows. But rendered almost as porous, and at times cathedral-like, were utilitarian buildings such as laundries and machine shops, tanneries and poultry houses, mills and barns.

Circles of Windows on Tree Different Levels Round Barn (1826, rebuilt 1865) Hancock, Massachusetts

Meetingroom Windows Meetinghouse (1792–93, moved from Shirley to Hancock 1962) Hancock, Massachusetts

INTERIOR SHUTTERS

The internal shutters with which windows are equipped at Canterbury and Enfield permit a range of lighting adjustments. At Enfield's dwelling house, a four-shutter system allows each panel to be operated independently, or in combination with others, so that light can be regulated at will, like a camera aperture, according to weather, temperature, and human activity. When the shutters are opened, they fold back and disappear into window reveals.

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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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CHAPTER THREE Hikaru Iwasaki’s Resettlement Photos, 1943–1945

Kenichiro Shimada University Press of Colorado ePub

By the time he retired in the 1990s, Carl Iwasaki had reached the peak of the photojournalism profession. When I first visited his home, he showed me some of his featured photographs in magazines like Life, People, Sports Illustrated, and Time.1 A number of his shots are iconic and include pieces like the 1961 photograph showing a shadow of two teenagers enjoying a kiss.

Now in his eighties, Iwasaki can look back on a lifetime of creative work. As a staff photographer who also worked on assignment, he traveled all over the world and covered all kinds of stories. He has witnessed humanity’s highs and lows, having covered stories from the infamous Starkweather case; to Jackie Kennedy skiing with her kids in Aspen; to an iconic photo of Linda Brown (of Brown vs. Board of Education); to the football season when he followed Joe Namath around, on and off the field, for Sports Illustrated.2

Before presenting a number of Iwasaki’s resettlement photographs, it is fitting to say something about his background as well as the criteria that governed the selection of his WRAPS photographs herein.3

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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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Introduction The Living Waters of Texas

Ken W Kramer Texas A&M University Press ePub

Ken Kramer

THE power of water. As I craft these words of introduction to The Living Waters of Texas, I am actually far away from the Lone Star State—on vacation enjoying the natural beauty of Jasper and Banff national parks in the Canadian Rockies, a land defined in many ways by the sheer physical power of water. Impressive glaciers, raging waterfalls, clear mountain streams, and beautiful lakes exist throughout this incredible land. To see how the glaciers have shaped the terrain and how roaring rivers have carved their way through the land, moving immense boulders along the way, produces a sense of awe at the amazing power of nature and the water features that are often its agents of change.

Water also has the power to give and sustain life—for fish and wildlife, for the organisms on which they feed, for plants, and for humans. Indeed the life of our planet could not exist without water.

Water has a power for human beings, however, that goes far beyond its physical force and its life-sustaining qualities. Water has the power to fascinate us, to excite and entertain us, to inflame our passions, and to inspire us to action. For many of us, myself included, there is no more intriguing topic than water. Indeed our efforts to describe it, manage it, protect it, enjoy it, and celebrate it have often defined our very lives.

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Can you guess the name of this cunning harbor?

Andrew Vietze Down East Books ePub

You’re thinking, Cutler, perhaps? Or Corea? Some tiny, isolated fishing village Down East? Not even close. Though this harbor — more of an inlet really — has all the hallmarks of a salty hamlet east of Ellsworth, it’s actually near the mouth of a wide river that empties into Casco Bay. Reached by one of the many roads that wander pleasantly south from Route 1 in the midcoast, paralleling tidal rivers, quiet marshes, and undisturbed coves, the village hasn’t seen the tourist and summer-home development that has spread across its neighboring peninsulas — at least not on the same scale. The boats of lobstermen and deep-sea fishermen outnumber pleasure craft here, though a few fair-weather residents favor the harbor, too. (When she wasn’t meeting with President Eisenhower in the White House or staring down Joe McCarthy, Margaret Chase Smith could be found at her summer place on a secluded point in the village.) The name of the harbor is resonant and oddly familiar, but most never find their way here, and those who do know the community often know it from the water — everything is oriented toward the mouth of the river. In this respect it’s almost insular, and indeed it technically sits on an island. The acreage that was settled and became this community was purchased from the Natives in 1659 by Colonel Shapleigh of Kittery, and by 1733 the cunning harbor pictured here was settled by the gentleman for whom it’s named. It’s remained relatively quiet ever since, even though the village is separated from pulsing Route 1 by a mere five miles. But what a difference those miles make. Turn to page 98 to identify this location.

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Have you ever found this forgotten fort?

Andrew Vietze Down East Books ePub

If you’re like many Maine motorists, you’ve driven within a mile of this old blockhouse dozens of times and never known it was there. Built in 1809 to protect a busy midcoast shipbuilding harbor, the fort sits just off Route 1 on an island few Mainers realize is an island, overlooking one of the area’s largest rivers. The solid little citadel was the focal point of an impressive compound at one time, with heavy bunkers, palisades, and a waterfront battery, and it was garrisoned for much of the nineteenth century, as a 1985 archaeological excavation revealed. And the site saw a few tense moments — it was threatened with bombardment during the War of 1812, and fifty years later the Confederate cruiser Tallahassee passed menacingly by not far downriver. Today the fort still sees quite a bit of action, but its many invaders are armed with nothing more threatening than cameras, Frisbees, and overflowing picnic baskets. (The solitary ranger who now mans the octagonal fort would be instantly overwhelmed if the park’s many day-trippers mounted an uprising.) Home to an interesting historical display, the blockhouse is one of the nation’s best preserved forts from the period and became one of Maine’s earliest state-owned parks, purchased in 1923 from the U.S. War Department for $501. Wide, grassy swaths overlooking the river and views of seals and ospreys have since made the spot popular among locals and those taking the scenic back way to a famous resort harbor not far down the road. Things are totally serene on the scene these days — especially under a fair May sky — but there are a few visitors who wish they could blast an unsightly old power plant out of the view across the river. See page 101 to learn where to find it.

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Have you seen the view from this island?

Andrew Vietze Down East Books ePub

Behold the birthplace of Maine as we know it. Well, that’s what some people say. Many historians think these island outposts are where the first Europeans set up camp Down East, establishing the famous Maine fishing economy long before Chris Columbus ever made his little sailing expedition. Some scratches on a cliff face on the island across the harbor are thought to be evidence of a visit by Vikings about 1000 A.D. There wasn’t much to plunder and pillage here then, but the fishing grounds were world class — the Norsemen must have thought they’d died and gone to Valhalla when they got a load of the local cod. Fishermen from Portugal and Spain were likewise amazed by the seafood, which all but hopped into their boats, and some think they built fishing camps here before 1492, too. Of course, indigenous tribes were here long before that and the island in the foreground has a Micmac moniker. The big grassy rock in the background has a very unusual name for these parts (not to be confused with an island of the same name off Oahu). That island was never settled in any sort of numbers, though it did see some dwellings. The tramway seen in the picture was put in place by the Coast Guard to haul supplies to a fog whistle with national significance — it’s the only one housed in its own tower. No one heard the signal blow more often than Raymond Phillips, who lived in a small shack on the island all by himself from the 1920s to the late seventies. A former food scientist from New York with a degree from NYU, he left the city behind to become one of New England’s most famous hermits, preferring the simple life of a shepherd. Who can blame him, with this kind of view? Turn to page 100 to learn the name of this island.

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Have you ever sailed to this famed fishing island?

Andrew Vietze Down East Books ePub

This all could have been yours for a pound of tobacco and a gallon of rum. That, according to local legend, is how much was paid for this midcoast island by the Hanover, Massachusetts, deacon who lent it his name. Though its popularity with tourists today testifies to the island’s beauty and charm, you might not have wanted the place back in the eighteenth century. Originally called Newaggin, it was surrounded by small isles known to be popular roosts for pirates, squatters, and assorted rogues. Ghosts, too, supposedly. So maybe smokes and brew were a fair price. Hard to believe so these days, when the roses explode in the bright sun, yachts loll at anchor, and throngs of summer worshipers cascade over the famous bridge here to set up for the season. One of five distinct settlements in a quiet midcoast community — the town itself is said to be home to more isles than any other in the country — the island has a year-round population of about 500 and dangles so far out into the Atlantic people have called it Land’s End. It’s conjoined to another island — they used to be called the Twins — and was only connected to the mainland in the twenties. It’s better known as home to a famous lobster pound than it is for its lobstering fleet, but it nonetheless played an important role in the development of the lobster industry — this is reputed to be where the idea of stringing traps together in long lines was first introduced. It’s also where the sport of tuna fishing began in earnest in Maine, and every July the community still hosts a popular tuna tournament. Deep-sea fishing put this island on the map, and helped it become the popular resort it is today. It might not be the pearl of the mid-coast — that’s a term associated with its twin — but unlike another Maine place with the same name, it’s no mistake either. For the name of this famous island, please turn to page 98.

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chapter six THE STATE BIRD

Silliker, Bill, Jr. Down East Books ePub

In winter, chickadees roam in small flocks, searching bark crannies for cocoons, spider eggs, and dormant insects.

Splaaatt! Something hit the window hard. The day was bright and sunny, but very cold. I looked out the big picture window onto the deck and confirmed that a bird had flown headfirst into its reflective glare, despite the hanging ornaments intended to warn birds away.

The chickadee lay motionless on the wooden deck. It was on its back, feet pointed toward the sky. That didn

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Texas Rivers and Tributaries

Ken W Kramer Texas A&M University Press ePub

I HAVE photographed the living waters of Texas for over twenty years, but at the beginning of my photography career I was more interested in places like the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and the mysterious slot canyons of southeastern Utah. I took pictures in Texas only when I stopped to rest during the long trips out west. But as the good images piled up, I found the streams and springs of my home state, from the West Fork of the Frio River or the wetlands of Aransas Wildlife Refuge to the Neches River bottomlands and the watery canyons of Big Bend Ranch State Park, to be the most extraordinary places of all. And I know there is much more to be found on private land, like a waterfall I have seen in deep East Texas that has never been photographed and doesn’t even have a name.

Yet just as Edward Curtis photographed the “vanishing Indians” one hundred years ago, I sense that I am photographing the vanishing waters of Texas. The Rio Grande in Big Bend is now more like the “Rio Poco,” the Middle Fork of the Pease River has dried up, and Jacob’s Well in the Hill Country stopped flowing for the first time in 2000. Larry McKinney, in his 1973 essay “Troubled Water,” states that “of the original 31 large springs (in Texas), only 17 remain. None of those springs stopped flowing because of natural causes.”

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Can you tell where this museum is located?

Andrew Vietze Down East Books ePub

If this romantic scene has you imagining an earlier time, picturing bonnets and buckboards, you’re on the right track. Every October the centuries melt away at this small village in the central part of the state and people cross this covered bridge into the 1790s. Men and women in period dress demonstrate what it would have been like to live a pioneer life in the North Woods, working at a water-powered sawmill or a blacksmith shop, spinning or weaving, traveling by buggy and bateaux, and feasting on bean-hole beans. Even the children are busy, dipping candles, making cedar shakes, and peeling potatoes. With the bridge, the mill, log cabins, trapper camps, and nature trails through the woodlands all around, it’s not a bad way to spend the first weekend in October. The museum here is no stranger to living history, dedicated as it is to telling the story of the long-ago lumbering life of the Maine woods. Every autumn it hosts this colorful event, transforming this community of 1,242 into Township Four, the place it used to be. Have you ever stepped across this bridge and back in time? Turn to page 100 if you can identify the museum or the community it is located in.

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Have you painted the remains of this well-known wreck?

Andrew Vietze Down East Books ePub

What a nice day for a shipwreck — for visiting a shipwreck that is. This one couldn’t be any easier to get to, sitting as it does beside a popular walking trail at a popular midcoast cove. In truth it could be simpler to reach — to explore the monumental, rusting ruins of this old boat, which went aground in dense fog in 1948, you first have to ferry over to the island where it met its fate. (The boat you’d ride docks around the corner from this toothy beach, so don’t worry.) The 110-foot tugboat D.T. Sheridan lost its way in the murk as it journeyed from Philadelphia to Maine, escorting two coal barges. Rocks tore through its steel hull, but luckily the Coast Guard was able to evacuate the crew and there were no injuries. Sixty years later, the boat lies twisted like a concertina, almost as much a part of the landscape as the cliffs that soar on the other side of the island. Many artists have rendered the craft, including a famous one who lives nearby. (The pretty old place was built by yet another internationally known artist.) A local visitor’s guide strongly cautions anyone who might think to venture over the rocks and into the surf here due to a strong undertow and all those big rocks: “No one has been saved who has gone overboard [here],” it states. But that doesn’t stop island residents from setting up towels and sunbathing, often in the nude, among the tall beach stones not far from the wreck. To find out its location, see page 98.

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19 Going Home

Malcolm L. Fleming Indiana University Press ePub

Billeted for a week in an old tobacco factory, we were processed by the old 3rd Repl Depot preparatory to going home. Same outfit, but with greatly changed tactics since the days they were supplying replacements for battle loss.

Final inspection is complete, and now with bulging bags we’re waiting by the numbers for trucks.

Marburg, Ger—13 Oct ’45

Handful of doughnuts and canteen cup of hot coffee—the invariable Red Cross handout, but a good sendoff before a rough two nights and a day on a boxcar.

Marburg, Ger—13 Oct ’45

Cattle-class accommodations, Marburg to Antwerp. Not actually the famed “40 (men) and 8 (horses)” of World War I, but no more comfortable for 24 men to ride and sleep in.

Antwerp, Bel.—15 Oct ’45

One of the seven theaters at this staging area running continuous showings all afternoon and evening. Nothing but a glorified quonset hut, but right appealing to the GIs because somebody’s bothered to name it the Roxy and run shows often enough to eliminate standing in long lines.

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