UNIVERSAL NEWSREEL CAPTURES TOWNS PANIC DURING FLOOD IN 1936.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Blast from the Past: 1936 Johnstown PA Flood Newsreel
Blast from the Past: 1950 (Then again, times have changes)
Then again, maybe times have changed. This probably would not be allowed today........
Blast from the Past: 1933 Universal Newsreel, Farmer Makes Music
A FARMER MAKES MUSIC WITH HIS HANDS, 1933. AS MUCH AS THINGS CHANGE IN THE WORLD, MUCH ALSO STAYS THE SAME........
Blast from the Past: 1906 San Francisco Earthquake
RARE FOOTAGE FROM THE THOMAS EDISON COMPANY OF THE DEVESTATING 1906 SAN FRANCISCO EARTHQUAKE, CONSIDERED BY MOST AS THE "EARTHQUAKE OF THE CENTURY."
DailyLit: Leaves Of Grass, Walt Whitman
Eidolons
I met a seer,
Passing the hues and objects of the world,
The fields of art and learning, pleasure, sense,
To glean eidolons.
Put in thy chants said he,
No more the puzzling hour nor day, nor segments, parts, put in,
Put first before the rest as light for all and entrance-song of all,
That of eidolons.
Ever the dim beginning,
Ever the growth, the rounding of the circle,
Ever the summit and the merge at last, (to surely start again,)
Eidolons! eidolons!
Ever the mutable,
Ever materials, changing, crumbling, re-cohering,
Ever the ateliers, the factories divine,
Issuing eidolons.
Lo, I or you,
Or woman, man, or state, known or unknown,
We seeming solid wealth, strength, beauty build,
But really build eidolons.
The ostent evanescent,
The substance of an artist's mood or savan's studies long,
Or warrior's, martyr's, hero's toils,
To fashion his eidolon.
Of every human life,
(The units gather'd, posted, not a thought, emotion, deed, left out,)
The whole or large or small summ'd, added up,
In its eidolon.
The old, old urge,
Based on the ancient pinnacles, lo, newer, higher pinnacles,
From science and the modern still impell'd,
The old, old urge, eidolons.
The present now and here,
America's busy, teeming, intricate whirl,
Of aggregate and segregate for only thence releasing,
To-day's eidolons.
These with the past,
Of vanish'd lands, of all the reigns of kings across the sea,
Old conquerors, old campaigns, old sailors' voyages,
Joining eidolons.
Densities, growth, facades,
Strata of mountains, soils, rocks, giant trees,
Far-born, far-dying, living long, to leave,
Eidolons everlasting.
Exalte, rapt, ecstatic,
The visible but their womb of birth,
Of orbic tendencies to shape and shape and shape,
The mighty earth-eidolon.
All space, all time,
(The stars, the terrible perturbations of the suns,
Swelling, collapsing, ending, serving their longer, shorter use,)
Fill'd with eidolons only.
The noiseless myriads,
The infinite oceans where the rivers empty,
The separate countless free identities, like eyesight,
The true realities, eidolons.
Not this the world,
Nor these the universes, they the universes,
Purport and end, ever the permanent life of life,
Eidolons, eidolons.
Beyond thy lectures learn'd professor,
Beyond thy telescope or spectroscope observer keen, beyond all mathematics,
Beyond the doctor's surgery, anatomy, beyond the chemist with his chemistry,
The entities of entities, eidolons.
Unfix'd yet fix'd,
Ever shall be, ever have been and are,
Sweeping the present to the infinite future,
Eidolons, eidolons, eidolons.
The prophet and the bard,
Shall yet maintain themselves, in higher stages yet,
Shall mediate to the Modern, to Democracy, interpret yet to them,
God and eidolons.
And thee my soul,
Joys, ceaseless exercises, exaltations,
Thy yearning amply fed at last, prepared to meet,
Thy mates, eidolons.
Thy body permanent,
The body lurking there within thy body,
The only purport of the form thou art, the real I myself,
An image, an eidolon.
Thy very songs not in thy songs,
No special strains to sing, none for itself,
But from the whole resulting, rising at last and floating,
A round full-orb'd eidolon.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
DailyLit: Leaves Of Grass, Walt Whitman
To a Historian
You who celebrate bygones,
Who have explored the outward, the surfaces of the races, the life
that has exhibited itself,
Who have treated of man as the creature of politics, aggregates,
rulers and priests,
I, habitan of the Alleghanies, treating of him as he is in himself
in his own rights,
Pressing the pulse of the life that has seldom exhibited itself,
(the great pride of man in himself,)
Chanter of Personality, outlining what is yet to be,
I project the history of the future.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Genealogy Monday: Capturing the Past
First of a 2-part series about oral interview techniques for oral histories
DailyLit: Leaves Of Grass, Walt Whitman #2
As I Ponder'd in Silence
As I ponder'd in silence,
Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long,
A Phantom arose before me with distrustful aspect,
Terrible in beauty, age, and power,
The genius of poets of old lands,
As to me directing like flame its eyes,
With finger pointing to many immortal songs,
And menacing voice, What singest thou? it said,
Know'st thou not there is but one theme for ever-enduring bards?
And that is the theme of War, the fortune of battles,
The making of perfect soldiers.
Be it so, then I answer'd,
I too haughty Shade also sing war, and a longer and greater one than any,
Waged in my book with varying fortune, with flight, advance
and retreat, victory deferr'd and wavering,
(Yet methinks certain, or as good as certain, at the last,) the
field the world,
For life and death, for the Body and for the eternal Soul,
Lo, I too am come, chanting the chant of battles,
I above all promote brave soldiers.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
NEW ARRIVALS: AUDIO BOOKS
HERE IS A LIST OF OUR LATEST AUDIO BOOK ARRIVALS AT THE BOLIVAR HARDEMAN COUNTY LIBRARY:
The God of Animals by Aryn Kyle
The Memory of Running by Ron McLarty
Spare Change by Robert B. Parker
Alibi Man by Tami Hoag
The Sea by John Banville
Crashing Through by Robert Kurson
The Deception Of The Emerald Ring by Lauren Willig
Mrs. McGinty's Dead by Agatha Christie
The Father Hunt by Rex Stout
Traveler by Ron McLarty
90 Minutes in Heaven by Don Piper
The Knitting Circle by Ann Hood
Bad Luck and Trouble by Lee Child
Hamlet by William Shakespeare
Sacrecd Clowns by Tony Hillerman
All The Flowers Are Dying by Lawrence Block
Borderline by Mark Schorr
The Good Guy by Dean Koontz
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
DailyLit: Leaves Of Grass, Walt Whitman
LEAVES OF GRASS By Walt Whitman
Come, said my soul,
Such verses for my Body let us write, (for we are one,)
That should I after return,
Or, long, long hence, in other spheres,
There to some group of mates the chants resuming,
(Tallying Earth's soil, trees, winds, tumultuous waves,)
Ever with pleas'd smile I may keep on,
Ever and ever yet the verses owning--as, first, I here and now
Signing for Soul and Body, set to them my name,
Walt Whitman
BOOK I. INSCRIPTIONS]
One's-Self I Sing
One's-self I sing, a simple separate person,
Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-Masse.
Of physiology from top to toe I sing,
Not physiognomy alone nor brain alone is worthy for the Muse, I say
the Form complete is worthier far,
The Female equally with the Male I sing.
Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power,
Cheerful, for freest action form'd under the laws divine,
The Modern Man I sing.
Reminder: This Saturday at the Library! Scott Humston, Master Magician
Scott Humston, Master Magician will be at the Bolivar Hardeman County Library on Saturday, June 23rd at 10:00a.m. His show is truly amazing. Young and young at heart will thoroughly enjoy this fantastic program. Make plans to attend this special event provided free of charge to the public.
DailyLit: Red Badge of Courage 8/60
CHAPTER II. (CONT'D)
As he mused thus he heard the rustle of grass, and, upon turning his head, discovered the loud soldier. He called out, "Oh, Wilson!"
The latter approached and looked down. "Why, hello, Henry; is it you? What you doing here?"
"Oh, thinking," said the youth.
The other sat down and carefully lighted his pipe. "You're getting blue, my boy. You're looking thundering peeked. What the dickens is wrong with you?"
"Oh, nothing," said the youth.
The loud soldier launched then into the subject of the anticipated fight. "Oh, we've got 'em now!" As he spoke his boyish face was wreathed in a gleeful smile, and his voice had an exultant ring. "We've got 'em now. At last, by the eternal thunders, we'll lick 'em good!"
"If the truth was known," he added, more soberly, "THEY'VE licked US about every clip up to now; but this time--this time--we'll lick 'em good!"
"I thought you was objecting to this march a little while ago," said the youth coldly.
"Oh, it wasn't that," explained the other. "I don't mind marching, if there's going to be fighting at the end of it. What I hate is this getting moved here and moved there, with no good coming of it, as far as I can see, excepting sore feet and damned short rations."
"Well, Jim Conklin says we'll get a plenty of fighting this time."
"He's right for once, I guess, though I can't see how it come. This time we're in for a big battle, and we've got the best end of it, certain sure. Gee rod! how we will thump 'em!"
He arose and began to pace to and fro excitedly. The thrill of his enthusiasm made him walk with an elastic step. He was sprightly, vigorous, fiery in his belief in success. He looked into the future with clear, proud eye, and he swore with the air of an old soldier.
The youth watched him for a moment in silence. When he finally spoke his voice was as bitter as dregs. "Oh, you're going to do great things, I s'pose!"
The loud soldier blew a thoughtful cloud of smoke from his pipe. "Oh, I don't know," he remarked with dignity; "I don't know. I s'pose I'll do as well as the rest. I'm going to try like thunder." He evidently complimented himself upon the modesty of this statement.
"How do you know you won't run when the time comes?" asked the youth.
"Run?" said the loud one; "run?--of course not!" He laughed.
"Well," continued the youth, "lots of good- a-'nough men have thought they was going to do great things before the fight, but when the time come they skedaddled."
"Oh, that's all true, I s'pose," replied the other; "but I'm not going to skedaddle. The man that bets on my running will lose his money, that's all." He nodded confidently.
"Oh, shucks!" said the youth. "You ain't the bravest man in the world, are you?"
"No, I ain't," exclaimed the loud soldier indignantly; "and I didn't say I was the bravest man in the world, neither. I said I was going to do my share of fighting--that's what I said. And I am, too. Who are you, anyhow. You talk as if you thought you was Napoleon Bonaparte." He glared at the youth for a moment, and then strode away.
The youth called in a savage voice after his comrade: "Well, you needn't git mad about it!" But the other continued on his way and made no reply.
He felt alone in space when his injured comrade had disappeared. His failure to discover any mite of resemblance in their view points made him more miserable than before. No one seemed to be wrestling with such a terrific personal problem. He was a mental outcast.
He went slowly to his tent and stretched him- self on a blanket by the side of the snoring tall soldier. In the darkness he saw visions of a thou- sand-tongued fear that would babble at his back and cause him to flee, while others were going coolly about their country's business. He admitted that he would not be able to cope with this monster. He felt that every nerve in his body would be an ear to hear the voices, while other men would remain stolid and deaf.
And as he sweated with the pain of these thoughts, he could hear low, serene sentences. "I'll bid five." "Make it six." "Seven." "Seven goes."
He stared at the red, shivering reflection of a fire on the white wall of his tent until, exhausted and ill from the monotony of his suf- fering, he fell asleep.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Scott Humston, Master Magician
Scott Humston, Master Magician will be at the Bolivar Hardeman County Library on Saturday, June 23rd at 10:00a.m. His show is truly amazing. Young and young at heart will thoroughly enjoy this fantastic program. Make plans to attend this special event provided free of charge to the public.
DailyLit: Red Badge of Courage 7/60
CHAPTER II.
THE next morning the youth discovered that his tall comrade had been the fast-flying messenger of a mistake. There was much scoffing at the latter by those who had yesterday been firm adherents of his views, and there was even a little sneering by men who had never believed the rumor. The tall one fought with a man from Chatfield Corners and beat him severely.
The youth felt, however, that his problem was in no wise lifted from him. There was, on the contrary, an irritating prolongation. The tale had created in him a great concern for himself. Now, with the newborn question in his mind, he was compelled to sink back into his old place as part of a blue demonstration.
For days he made ceaseless calculations, but they were all wondrously unsatisfactory. He found that he could establish nothing. He final- ly concluded that the only way to prove himself was to go into the blaze, and then figuratively to watch his legs to discover their merits and faults. He reluctantly admitted that he could not sit still and with a mental slate and pencil derive an answer. To gain it, he must have blaze, blood, and danger, even as a chemist requires this, that, and the other. So he fretted for an opportunity.
Meanwhile he continually tried to measure himself by his comrades. The tall soldier, for one, gave him some assurance. This man's serene unconcern dealt him a measure of confidence, for he had known him since childhood, and from his intimate knowledge he did not see how he could be capable of anything that was beyond him, the youth. Still, he thought that his comrade might be mistaken about himself. Or, on the other hand, he might be a man heretofore doomed to peace and obscurity, but, in reality, made to shine in war.
The youth would have liked to have discovered another who suspected himself. A sympathetic comparison of mental notes would have been a joy to him.
He occasionally tried to fathom a comrade with seductive sentences. He looked about to find men in the proper mood. All attempts failed to bring forth any statement which looked in any way like a confession to those doubts which he privately acknowledged in himself. He was afraid to make an open declaration of his concern, because he dreaded to place some unscrupulous confidant upon the high plane of the unconfessed from which elevation he could be derided.
In regard to his companions his mind wavered between two opinions, according to his mood. Sometimes he inclined to believing them all heroes. In fact, he usually admitted in secret the superior development of the higher qualities in others. He could conceive of men going very insignificantly about the world bearing a load of courage unseen, and although he had known many of his comrades through boyhood, he began to fear that his judgment of them had been blind. Then, in other moments, he flouted these theories, and assured himself that his fellows were all privately wondering and quaking.
His emotions made him feel strange in the presence of men who talked excitedly of a prospective battle as of a drama they were about to witness, with nothing but eagerness and curiosity apparent in their faces. It was often that he sus- pected them to be liars.
He did not pass such thoughts without severe condemnation of himself. He dinned reproaches at times. He was convicted by himself of many shameful crimes against the gods of traditions.
In his great anxiety his heart was continually clamoring at what he considered the intolerable slowness of the generals. They seemed content to perch tranquilly on the river bank, and leave him bowed down by the weight of a great problem. He wanted it settled forthwith. He could not long bear such a load, he said. Sometimes his anger at the commanders reached an acute stage, and he grumbled about the camp like a veteran.
One morning, however, he found himself in the ranks of his prepared regiment. The men were whispering speculations and recounting the old rumors. In the gloom before the break of the day their uniforms glowed a deep purple hue. From across the river the red eyes were still peering. In the eastern sky there was a yellow patch like a rug laid for the feet of the com- ing sun; and against it, black and patternlike, loomed the gigantic figure of the colonel on a gigantic horse.
From off in the darkness came the trampling of feet. The youth could occasionally see dark shadows that moved like monsters. The regiment stood at rest for what seemed a long time. The youth grew impatient. It was unendurable the way these affairs were managed. He wondered how long they were to be kept waiting.
As he looked all about him and pondered upon the mystic gloom, he began to believe that at any moment the ominous distance might be aflare, and the rolling crashes of an engagement come to his ears. Staring once at the red eyes across the river, he conceived them to be grow- ing larger, as the orbs of a row of dragons advancing. He turned toward the colonel and saw him lift his gigantic arm and calmly stroke his mustache.
At last he heard from along the road at the foot of the hill the clatter of a horse's galloping hoofs. It must be the coming of orders. He bent forward, scarce breathing. The exciting clickety-click, as it grew louder and louder, seemed to be beating upon his soul. Presently a horseman with jangling equipment drew rein be- fore the colonel of the regiment. The two held a short, sharp-worded conversation. The men in the foremost ranks craned their necks.
CHAPTER II. (CONT'D)
As the horseman wheeled his animal and gal- loped away he turned to shout over his shoulder, "Don't forget that box of cigars!" The colonel mumbled in reply. The youth wondered what a box of cigars had to do with war.
A moment later the regiment went swinging off into the darkness. It was now like one of those moving monsters wending with many feet. The air was heavy, and cold with dew. A mass of wet grass, marched upon, rustled like silk.
There was an occasional flash and glimmer of steel from the backs of all these huge crawling reptiles. From the road came creakings and grumblings as some surly guns were dragged away.
The men stumbled along still muttering speculations. There was a subdued debate. Once a man fell down, and as he reached for his rifle a comrade, unseeing, trod upon his hand. He of the injured fingers swore bitterly and aloud. A low, tittering laugh went among his fellows.
Presently they passed into a roadway and marched forward with easy strides. A dark regiment moved before them, and from behind also came the tinkle of equipments on the bodies of marching men.
The rushing yellow of the developing day went on behind their backs. When the sunrays at last struck full and mellowingly upon the earth, the youth saw that the landscape was streaked with two long, thin, black columns which disappeared on the brow of a hill in front and rearward vanished in a wood. They were like two serpents crawling from the cavern of the night.
The river was not in view. The tall soldier burst into praises of what he thought to be his powers of perception.
Some of the tall one's companions cried with emphasis that they, too, had evolved the same thing, and they congratulated themselves upon it. But there were others who said that the tall one's plan was not the true one at all. They persisted with other theories. There was a vigorous discussion.
The youth took no part in them. As he walked along in careless line he was engaged with his own eternal debate. He could not hin- der himself from dwelling upon it. He was despondent and sullen, and threw shifting glances about him. He looked ahead, often expecting to hear from the advance the rattle of firing.
But the long serpents crawled slowly from hill to hill without bluster of smoke. A dun-colored cloud of dust floated away to the right. The sky overhead was of a fairy blue.
The youth studied the faces of his companions, ever on the watch to detect kindred emotions. He suffered disappointment. Some ardor of the air which was causing the veteran commands to move with glee--almost with song-- had infected the new regiment. The men began to speak of victory as of a thing they knew. Also, the tall soldier received his vindication. They were certainly going to come around in behind the enemy. They expressed commiseration for that part of the army which had been left upon the river bank, felicitating themselves upon being a part of a blasting host.
The youth, considering himself as separated from the others, was saddened by the blithe and merry speeches that went from rank to rank. The company wags all made their best endeavors. The regiment tramped to the tune of laughter.
The blatant soldier often convulsed whole files by his biting sarcasms aimed at the tall one.
And it was not long before all the men seemed to forget their mission. Whole brigades grinned in unison, and regiments laughed.
A rather fat soldier attempted to pilfer a horse from a dooryard. He planned to load his knap- sack upon it. He was escaping with his prize when a young girl rushed from the house and grabbed the animal's mane. There followed a wrangle. The young girl, with pink cheeks and shining eyes, stood like a dauntless statue.
The observant regiment, standing at rest in the roadway, whooped at once, and entered whole-souled upon the side of the maiden. The men became so engrossed in this affair that they entirely ceased to remember their own large war. They jeered the piratical private, and called attention to various defects in his personal appearance; and they were wildly enthusiastic in support of the young girl.
To her, from some distance, came bold advice. "Hit him with a stick."
There were crows and catcalls showered upon him when he retreated without the horse. The regiment rejoiced at his downfall. Loud and vociferous congratulations were showered upon the maiden, who stood panting and regard- ing the troops with defiance.
At nightfall the column broke into regimental pieces, and the fragments went into the fields to camp. Tents sprang up like strange plants. Camp fires, like red, peculiar blossoms, dotted the night.
The youth kept from intercourse with his companions as much as circumstances would allow him. In the evening he wandered a few paces into the gloom. From this little distance the many fires, with the black forms of men pass- ing to and fro before the crimson rays, made weird and satanic effects.
He lay down in the grass. The blades pressed tenderly against his cheek. The moon had been lighted and was hung in a treetop. The liquid stillness of the night enveloping him made him feel vast pity for himself. There was a caress in the soft winds; and the whole mood of the darkness, he thought, was one of sympathy for himself in his distress.
He wished, without reserve, that he was at home again making the endless rounds from the house to the barn, from the barn to the fields, from the fields to the barn, from the barn to the house. He remembered he had often cursed the brindle cow and her mates, and had sometimes flung milking stools. But, from his present point of view, there was a halo of happiness about each of their heads, and he would have sacrificed all the brass buttons on the continent to have been enabled to return to them. He told himself that he was not formed for a soldier. And he mused seriously upon the radical differences between himself and those men who were dodging imp- like around the fires.
Monday, June 18, 2007
DailyLit: Red Badge of Courage
CHAPTER I (CONT’D)
"Didn't say I knew everything in the world," retorted the other sharply. He began to stow various articles snugly into his knapsack.
The youth, pausing in his nervous walk, looked down at the busy figure. "Going to be a battle, sure, is there, Jim?" he asked.
"Of course there is," replied the tall soldier. "Of course there is. You jest wait 'til to-morrow, and you'll see one of the biggest battles ever was. You jest wait."
"Thunder!Thunder!" said the youth.
"Oh, you'll see fighting this time, my boy, what'll be regular out-and-out fighting," added the tall soldier, with the air of a man who is about to exhibit a battle for the benefit of his friends.
"Huh!" said the loud one from a corner.
"Well," remarked the youth, "like as not this story'll turn out jest like them others did."
"Not much it won't," replied the tall soldier, exasperated. "Not much it won't. Didn't the cavalry all start this morning?" He glared about him. No one denied his statement. "The cav- alry started this morning," he continued. "They say there ain't hardly any cavalry left in camp. They're going to Richmond, or some place, while we fight all the Johnnies. It's some dodge like that. The regiment's got orders, too. A feller what seen 'em go to headquarters told me a little while ago. And they're raising blazes all over camp--anybody can see that."
"Shucks!" said the loud one.
The youth remained silent for a time. At last he spoke to the tall soldier. "Jim!"
"What?"
"How do you think the reg'ment 'll do?"
"Oh, they'll fight all right, I guess, after they once get into it," said the other with cold judgment. He made a fine use of the third person. "There's been heaps of fun poked at 'em because they're new, of course, and all that; but they'll fight all right, I guess."
"Think any of the boys 'll run?" persisted the youth.
"Oh, there may be a few of 'em run, but there's them kind in every regiment, 'specially when they first goes under fire," said the other in a tolerant way. "Of course it might happen that the hull kit-and-boodle might start and run, if some big fighting came first-off, and then again they might stay and fight like fun. But you can't bet on nothing. Of course they ain't never been under fire yet, and it ain't likely they'll lick the hull rebel army all-to-oncet the first time; but I think they'll fight better than some, if worse than others. That's the way I figger. They call the reg'ment 'Fresh fish' and everything; but the boys come of good stock, and most of 'em 'll fight like sin after they oncet git shootin'," he added, with a mighty emphasis on the last four words.
"Oh, you think you know--" began the loud soldier with scorn.
The other turned savagely upon him. They had a rapid altercation, in which they fastened upon each other various strange epithets.
The youth at last interrupted them. "Did you ever think you might run yourself, Jim?" he asked. On concluding the sentence he laughed as if he had meant to aim a joke. The loud soldier also giggled.
The tall private waved his hand. "Well," said he profoundly, "I've thought it might get too hot for Jim Conklin in some of them scrimmages, and if a whole lot of boys started and run, why, I s'pose I'd start and run. And if I once started to run, I'd run like the devil, and no mistake. But if everybody was a-standing and a-fighting, why, I'd stand and fight. Be jiminey, I would. I'll bet on it."
"Huh!" said the loud one.
The youth of this tale felt gratitude for these words of his comrade. He had feared that all of the untried men possessed a great and correct confidence. He now was in a measure reassured.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Saturday Cartoons: Max Fleischer
Each Saturday Morning, Notes From the Library will feature an assortment of classic cartoons. To kick the party off, here's a few classic Max Fleischer cartoons such as Popeye, Betty Boop, and a clever news sketch.
Patriotic Popeye
Max Fleisher Sketches
Popeye Meets Sinbad
An Early Popeye the Sailor Man
Betty Boop's Rise to Fame
DailyLit: Red Badge of Courage (4/60)
CHAPTER I (CONT’D)
He had grown to regard himself merely as a part of a vast blue demonstration. His province was to look out, as far as he could, for his per- sonal comfort. For recreation he could twiddle his thumbs and speculate on the thoughts which must agitate the minds of the generals. Also, he was drilled and drilled and reviewed, and drilled and drilled and reviewed.
The only foes he had seen were some pickets along the river bank. They were a sun-tanned, philosophical lot, who sometimes shot reflectively at the blue pickets. When reproached for this afterward, they usually expressed sorrow, and swore by their gods that the guns had exploded without their permission. The youth, on guard duty one night, conversed across the stream with one of them. He was a slightly ragged man, who spat skillfully between his shoes and possessed a great fund of bland and infantile assurance. The youth liked him personally.
"Yank," the other had informed him, "yer a right dum good feller." This sentiment, floating to him upon the still air, had made him tempo- rarily regret war.
Various veterans had told him tales. Some talked of gray, bewhiskered hordes who were advancing with relentless curses and chewing tobacco with unspeakable valor; tremendous bodies of fierce soldiery who were sweeping along like the Huns. Others spoke of tattered and eternally hungry men who fired despondent powders. "They'll charge through hell's fire an' brimstone t' git a holt on a haversack, an' sech stomachs ain't a-lastin' long," he was told. From the stories, the youth imagined the red, live bones sticking out through slits in the faded uniforms.
Still, he could not put a whole faith in veter- ans' tales, for recruits were their prey. They talked much of smoke, fire, and blood, but he could not tell how much might be lies. They persistently yelled "Fresh fish!" at him, and were in no wise to be trusted.
However, he perceived now that it did not greatly matter what kind of soldiers he was going to fight, so long as they fought, which fact no one disputed. There was a more serious problem. He lay in his bunk pondering upon it. He tried to mathematically prove to himself that he would not run from a battle.
Previously he had never felt obliged to wrestle too seriously with this question. In his life he had taken certain things for granted, never challeng- ing his belief in ultimate success, and bothering little about means and roads. But here he was confronted with a thing of moment. It had sud- denly appeared to him that perhaps in a battle he might run. He was forced to admit that as far as war was concerned he knew nothing of himself.
A sufficient time before he would have allowed the problem to kick its heels at the outer portals of his mind, but now he felt compelled to give serious attention to it.
A little panic-fear grew in his mind. As his imagination went forward to a fight, he saw hide- ous possibilities. He contemplated the lurking menaces of the future, and failed in an effort to see himself standing stoutly in the midst of them. He recalled his visions of broken-bladed glory, but in the shadow of the impending tumult he suspected them to be impossible pictures.
He sprang from the bunk and began to pace nervously to and fro. "Good Lord, what's th' matter with me?" he said aloud.
He felt that in this crisis his laws of life were useless. Whatever he had learned of himself was here of no avail. He was an unknown quantity. He saw that he would again be obliged to experiment as he had in early youth. He must accumulate information of himself, and meanwhile he re- solved to remain close upon his guard lest those qualities of which he knew nothing should ever- lastingly disgrace him. "Good Lord!" he repeated in dismay.
After a time the tall soldier slid dexterously through the hole. The loud private followed. They were wrangling.
"That's all right," said the tall soldier as he entered. He waved his hand expressively. "You can believe me or not, jest as you like. All you got to do is to sit down and wait as quiet as you can. Then pretty soon you'll find out I was right."
His comrade grunted stubbornly. For a moment he seemed to be searching for a formidable reply. Finally he said: "Well, you don't know everything in the world, do you?"
Friday, June 15, 2007
NEW ARRIVALS: DVD's
A sizable collection of new DVD arrivals are now available for checkout at the library.
A few of note are Happy Feet, the animated blockbuster featuring dancing penquins and an all-star cast.
Bobby re-examines the final days of Robert Kennedy and his untimely death at the hands of Sirhan Sirhan. Dream Girls, starring Oscar-winner Jennifer Hudson, is based on the long-running Broadway show about a girl group's rise to fame. 
Other arrivals include:
Arthur And The Invisibles
Because I Said So
Catch And Release
Daylight
Deceived
DeJavu
Everyone's Hero
Happly N'Ever After
Kull, The Conqueror
Subzero
The Good Shepherd
DailyLit: Red Badge of Courage (3/60)
CHAPTER I (CONT’D)
"I've knet yeh eight pair of socks, Henry, and I've put in all yer best shirts, because I want my boy to be jest as warm and comf'able as anybody in the army. Whenever they get holes in 'em, I want yeh to send 'em right-away back to me, so's I kin dern 'em.
"An' allus be careful an' choose yer comp'ny. There's lots of bad men in the army, Henry. The army makes 'em wild, and they like nothing better than the job of leading off a young feller like you, as ain't never been away from home much and has allus had a mother, an' a-learning 'em to drink and swear. Keep clear of them folks, Henry. I don't want yeh to ever do any- thing, Henry, that yeh would be 'shamed to let me know about. Jest think as if I was a-watchin' yeh. If yeh keep that in yer mind allus, I guess yeh'll come out about right.
"Yeh must allus remember yer father, too, child, an' remember he never drunk a drop of licker in his life, and seldom swore a cross oath.
"I don't know what else to tell yeh, Henry, excepting that yeh must never do no shirking, child, on my account. If so be a time comes when yeh have to be kilt or do a mean thing, why, Henry, don't think of anything 'cept what's right, because there's many a woman has to bear up 'ginst sech things these times, and the Lord 'll take keer of us all.
"Don't forgit about the socks and the shirts, child; and I've put a cup of blackberry jam with yer bundle, because I know yeh like it above all things. Good-by, Henry. Watch out, and be a good boy."
He had, of course, been impatient under the ordeal of this speech. It had not been quite what he expected, and he had borne it with an air of irritation. He departed feeling vague relief.
Still, when he had looked back from the gate, he had seen his mother kneeling among the potato parings. Her brown face, upraised, was stained with tears, and her spare form was quivering. He bowed his head and went on, feeling suddenly ashamed of his purposes.
From his home he had gone to the seminary to bid adieu to many schoolmates. They had thronged about him with wonder and admiration. He had felt the gulf now between them and had swelled with calm pride. He and some of his fellows who had donned blue were quite over- whelmed with privileges for all of one afternoon, and it had been a very delicious thing. They had strutted.
A certain light-haired girl had made vivacious fun at his martial spirit, but there was another and darker girl whom he had gazed at steadfastly, and he thought she grew demure and sad at sight of his blue and brass. As he had walked down the path between the rows of oaks, he had turned his head and detected her at a window watching his departure. As he perceived her, she had immediately begun to stare up through the high tree branches at the sky. He had seen a good deal of flurry and haste in her movement as she changed her attitude. He often thought of it.
On the way to Washington his spirit had soared. The regiment was fed and caressed at station after station until the youth had believed that he must be a hero. There was a lavish ex- penditure of bread and cold meats, coffee, and pickles and cheese. As he basked in the smiles of the girls and was patted and complimented by the old men, he had felt growing within him the strength to do mighty deeds of arms.
After complicated journeyings with many pauses, there had come months of monotonous life in a camp. He had had the belief that real war was a series of death struggles with small time in between for sleep and meals; but since his regiment had come to the field the army had done little but sit still and try to keep warm.
He was brought then gradually back to his old ideas. Greeklike struggles would be no more. Men were better, or more timid. Secular and religious education had effaced the throat-grap- pling instinct, or else firm finance held in check the passions.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Randy Bishop Book Signing: Thanks Randy!
The Bolivar Hardeman County Library would like to thank Randy Bishop for including us in the promotion of his new book. We are proud of our local author and his detailed exploration of Tennessee's Civil War Battlefields. Obviously, it was a labor of love. If you missed the event, be sure to purchase your copy at local bookstores or from the publisher's website.
Randy Bishop's new book, Tennessee's Civil War Battlefields, contains over 100 photographs and explores 2900 civil war sites in Tennessee. Read more about author Randy Bishop and the release from the publisher's website, and type in Randy Bishop in the empty seach box.
DailyLit: Red Badge of Courage (Day2)
CHAPTER I (CONT’D)
The youth was in a little trance of astonishment. So they were at last going to fight. On the morrow, perhaps, there would be a battle, and he would be in it. For a time he was obliged to labor to make himself believe. He could not accept with assurance an omen that he was about to mingle in one of those great affairs of the earth.
He had, of course, dreamed of battles all his life--of vague and bloody conflicts that had thrilled him with their sweep and fire. In visions he had seen himself in many struggles. He had imagined peoples secure in the shadow of his eagle-eyed prowess. But awake he had regarded battles as crimson blotches on the pages of the past. He had put them as things of the bygone with his thought-images of heavy crowns and high castles. There was a portion of the world's history which he had regarded as the time of wars, but it, he thought, had been long gone over the horizon and had disappeared forever.
From his home his youthful eyes had looked upon the war in his own country with distrust. It must be some sort of a play affair. He had long despaired of witnessing a Greeklike struggle. Such would be no more, he had said. Men were better, or more timid. Secular and religious education had effaced the throat-grappling instinct, or else firm finance held in check the passions.
He had burned several times to enlist. Tales of great movements shook the land. They might not be distinctly Homeric, but there seemed to be much glory in them. He had read of marches, sieges, conflicts, and he had longed to see it all. His busy mind had drawn for him large pictures extravagant in color, lurid with breathless deeds.
But his mother had discouraged him. She had affected to look with some contempt upon the quality of his war ardor and patriotism. She could calmly seat herself and with no apparent difficulty give him many hundreds of reasons why he was of vastly more importance on the farm than on the field of battle. She had had certain ways of expression that told him that her statements on the subject came from a deep conviction. Moreover, on her side, was his belief that her ethical motive in the argument was impregnable.
At last, however, he had made firm rebellion against this yellow light thrown upon the color of his ambitions. The newspapers, the gossip of the village, his own picturings had aroused him to an uncheckable degree. They were in truth fighting finely down there. Almost every day the newspapers printed accounts of a decisive victory.
One night, as he lay in bed, the winds had carried to him the clangoring of the church bell as some enthusiast jerked the rope frantically to tell the twisted news of a great battle. This voice of the people rejoicing in the night had made him shiver in a prolonged ecstasy of excitement. Later, he had gone down to his mother's room and had spoken thus: "Ma, I'm going to enlist."
"Henry, don't you be a fool," his mother had replied. She had then covered her face with the quilt. There was an end to the matter for that night.
Nevertheless, the next morning he had gone to a town that was near his mother's farm and had enlisted in a company that was forming there. When he had returned home his mother was milking the brindle cow. Four others stood waiting. "Ma, I've enlisted," he had said to her diffidently. There was a short silence. "The Lord's will be done, Henry," she had finally replied, and had then continued to milk the brindle cow.
When he had stood in the doorway with his soldier's clothes on his back, and with the light of excitement and expectancy in his eyes almost defeating the glow of regret for the home bonds, he had seen two tears leaving their trails on his mother's scarred cheeks.
Still, she had disappointed him by saying nothing whatever about returning with his shield or on it. He had privately primed himself for a beautiful scene. He had prepared certain sentences which he thought could be used with touching effect. But her words destroyed his plans. She had doggedly peeled potatoes and addressed him as follows: "You watch out, Henry, an' take good care of yerself in this here fighting business--you watch out, an' take good care of yerself. Don't go a-thinkin' you can lick the hull rebel army at the start, because yeh can't. Yer jest one little feller amongst a hull lot of others, and yeh've got to keep quiet an' do what they tell yeh. I know how you are, Henry.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
DailyLit: Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane
The Red Badge of Courage
by Stephen Crane
An Episode of the American Civil War
CHAPTER I.
THE cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. As the landscape changed from brown to green, the army awakened, and began to tremble with eagerness at the noise of rumors. It cast its eyes upon the roads, which were growing from long troughs of liquid mud to proper thoroughfares. A river, amber- tinted in the shadow of its banks, purled at the army's feet; and at night, when the stream had become of a sorrowful blackness, one could see across it the red, eyelike gleam of hostile campfires set in the low brows of distant hills.
Once a certain tall soldier developed virtues and went resolutely to wash a shirt. He came flying back from a brook waving his garment bannerlike. He was swelled with a tale he had heard from a reliable friend, who had heard it from a truthful cavalryman, who had heard it from his trustworthy brother, one of the order- lies at division headquarters. He adopted the important air of a herald in red and gold. "We're goin' t' move t' morrah--sure," he said pompously to a group in the company street. "We're goin' 'way up the river, cut across, an' come around in behint 'em."
To his attentive audience he drew a loud and elaborate plan of a very brilliant campaign. When he had finished, the blue-clothed men scattered into small arguing groups between the rows of squat brown huts. A negro teamster who had been dancing upon a cracker box with the hilarious encouragement of twoscore soldiers was deserted. He sat mournfully down. Smoke drifted lazily from a multitude of quaint chimneys.
"It's a lie! that's all it is--a thunderin' lie!" said another private loudly. His smooth face was flushed, and his hands were thrust sulkily into his trousers' pockets. He took the matter as an affront to him. "I don't believe the derned old army's ever going to move. We're set. I've got ready to move eight times in the last two weeks, and we ain't moved yet."
The tall soldier felt called upon to defend the truth of a rumor he himself had introduced. He and the loud one came near to fighting over it.
A corporal began to swear before the assemblage. He had just put a costly board floor in his house, he said. During the early spring he had refrained from adding extensively to the comfort of his environment because he had felt that the army might start on the march at any moment. Of late, however, he had been im- pressed that they were in a sort of eternal camp.
Many of the men engaged in a spirited debate. One outlined in a peculiarly lucid manner all the plans of the commanding general. He was op- posed by men who advocated that there were other plans of campaign. They clamored at each other, numbers making futile bids for the popular attention. Meanwhile, the soldier who had fetched the rumor bustled about with much importance. He was continually assailed by questions.
"What's up, Jim?"
"Th' army's goin' t' move."
"Ah, what yeh talkin' about? How yeh know it is?"
"Well, yeh kin b'lieve me er not, jest as yeh like. I don't care a hang."
There was much food for thought in the man- ner in which he replied. He came near to con- vincing them by disdaining to produce proofs. They grew excited over it.
There was a youthful private who listened with eager ears to the words of the tall soldier and to the varied comments of his comrades. After receiving a fill of discussions concerning marches and attacks, he went to his hut and crawled through an intricate hole that served it as a door. He wished to be alone with some new thoughts that had lately come to him.http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif
He lay down on a wide bank that stretched across the end of the room. In the other end, cracker boxes were made to serve as furniture. They were grouped about the fireplace. A picture from an illustrated weekly was upon the log walls, and three rifles were paralleled on pegs. Equipments hunt on handy projections, and some tin dishes lay upon a small pile of firewood. A folded tent was serving as a roof. The sunlight, without, beating upon it, made it glow a light yellow shade. A small window shot an oblique square of whiter light upon the cluttered floor. The smoke from the fire at times neglected the clay chimney and wreathed into the room, and this flimsy chimney of clay and sticks made end- less threats to set ablaze the whole establishment.
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SPONSORED LINKS
Click here to buy red badge of courage, the from amazon
NEW SERVICE: Daily Lit
A new internet service has been created that will email registered users a chapter (or part) of a classic book everyday. It can be sent to blackberries, and phones as well.
Currently, there are 700 books to choose from such as Moby Dick, The Red Badge of Courage, and other classics. And if you finish a chapter and want another one immediately, just email Daily Lit and you will have the next chapter sent immediately!
This service is absolutely FREE. Just follow this link for DailyLit, register, and choose your first book.
Additionally, the Bolivar-Hardeman Library will receive daily chapters of a selected book. "Notes from the Library" will feature a new installment each day. Our current feature is Stephen Crane's Red Badge of Courage. Tomorrow, the next installment will appear, and so on until we finish the book. This is a wonderful way to catch up on classics by reading a chapter each day. Think of it as the library's on-line book club.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Hats Off to our Top Summer Readers!
The Library's Summer Reading program kicked off June 2 with the Reading Ranger "Safari Greg" and his Hop-A-Long Critters! Two of our top readers this first week were Jacob Bryant (above) and Brandon Burvee (below).
We encourage parents to get involved and lasso the entire family to the library for these educational and entertaining events. While everyone is complaining about the higher cost of living, the library would like to remind everyone that all events are free to the public. Visiting the library is a good way to program family events that don't put a dent in the budget. 
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Sunday Movie: TOPPER RETURNS
Considered by some the best of Hal Roaches Topper film series, Topper Returns stars Roland Young and Billie Burke with Jack Benny's co-star, Eddie "Rochester" Anderson. Joan Blondell plays the beautiful, troublesome ghost.
WATCH TOPPER RETURNS HERE.....
BROADBAND USERS
DIAL UP USERS
REMEMBER TO "CHECK OUT" SOME OF THE 1000'S OF MOVIES ON DVD AND VHS AT THE BOLIVAR-HARDEMAN LIBRARY.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
WELCOME: Our new Library On-line Magazine
Hello Library guests! Welcome to the Bolivar-Hardeman County On-line Magazine. The mission of our new component to the library website is to provide the most up-to-date information possible to library users. Topics will include upcoming events, new arrivals, book reviews, genealogy tips, and research information.
There are also added features such as the Daily News Feed. In the left column, the viewer can click one of the listed topics, such as genealogy, new book releases, Bolivar TN news, etc. and get instant daily news links for that topic.
The daily educational video feeds change regularly, and include documentaries about Civil Rights, history, space exploration, and more.
This is an exciting new component to the Library's website, and in the future, we intend to provide the community with interesting news and education.
Enjoy the photos here taken from recent library events. Visit the Library Website here for photo descriptions. 
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Library Resources: NYPL Digital Library
One of the best on-line sources for digital research is the New York Public Library Digital Gallery. Over 550,000 images and historical documents are available for users to view and download. AND, IT'S FREE! No account necessary.
Categories include illuminated manuscripts, historical maps, vintage posters, rare prints and photographs, illustrated books, printed ephemera, and more. Be prepared to spend hours browsing the collection. The above slideshow represents a few random samples.
The slideshow below features a few items from the NYPL digital collection about Tennessee. Visit the New York Public Library Digital Gallery. Photo and document listings provide vital information for each entry.
NEW ARRIVAL: "Stealing Lincoln's Body" by Craughwell
- Harvard edition World
- 26 halftones
- Belknap Press
- 288 pages
This book is a new arrival at the Bolivar Library, and will undoubtedly be a popular check-out item. Read some of the customer reviews at Amazon.com for more information or view the publisher's website and author biography at the Harvard Press website.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Artist Spotlight: Jim Gray
Artist Jim Gray has roots in Hardeman County. Although he grew up in South Carolina, it was his visits to his grandfather's farm in Middleton, TN that were many of his early inspirations. He moved to the Smokey Mountains after serving in the Korean War. He became nationally recognized for his paintings in 1968 when his works appeared in National Geographic Magazine. Although a prolific painter, he has also created numerous bronze statues, including the Dolly Parton bronze in Pigeon Forge, and several Presidential works.
From his many visits to Hardeman County and childhood memories of Hardeman County, he has created numerous paintings based on the area, including his grandfather's farm. View more of Jim Gray's work on the Bolivar Hardeman County Library Website and at Gray's official site.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Documentary Feature: Rosa Parks
The library recently acquired Rosa Parks by Douglas Brinkly. Donated to the library by the Shiloh Regional Library, this large print edition is just one of the resources available to library visitors about Ms. Parks and the Civil Rights Movement.
The documentary featured today is an award-winning student film about the life of Rosa Parks:
New Arrival: Best of Bill Cosby Audio Book
The Best of Bill Cosby
If it's the best of Bill Cosby, you know that means he'll delight everyone in the family. His classic comedy features wry observations on everyday life. Includes several Noah bits (Right!; The Neighbor; and Me and You, Lord), Revenge, The Lone Ranger, Old Weird Harold, Driving in San Francisco, The Apple, Babies, The Water Bottle, and Street Football. This selection is now available at the Bolivar Library.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Upcoming Event, June 9, 2007
Randy Bishop, local author and historian, will be at the Bolivar Hardeman County Library Saturday, June 9 at 2:00 pm to present a program about his new book, Tennessee's Civil War Battlefields. He will have copies to sell and will be happy to autography your copy. Mrs. Cissye Pierce has graciously agreed to display some of her family's Civl War collection at the library during the event. Please come and support our local talent.
The book contains over 100 photographs and explores 2900 civil war sites in Tennessee. Read more about author Randy Bishop and the release from the publisher's website, and type in Randy Bishop in the empty seach box. Be sure not to miss this exciting event!
Shoji Hamada Pottery
One of the 20th century's most important ceramics artist, Hamada became interested in art at the age of 8, and spent most of his youth studying and creating artworks. He traveled extensively throughout Europe with Bernard Leach (Leach Pottery), and the two created a long- term partnership.
Hamada received accolades throughout his life for his work and influence on modern pottery. His homeland, Japan, honored him in 1955 with the first awarded Living National Treasure.
View a 1968 film (below) by Shoji Hamada demonstrating his pottery technique:
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Hardeman History Spotlight: Ames Plantation
The Ames Plantation
This historic property, located in Hardeman and Fayette counties, encompasses 18,600 acres and includes the sites of several 19th Century plantations. Some of the plantation owners or "planters" were: Thomas E. Chambers, Matthew B. Dyer, Benjamin Moody, Fanny Dickens, John W. Hunt, David Jernigan, John W. Jones, Wiley B. Jones, Alexander McNeill, William Winfield, and Elisha W. Harris.
Historically significant sites found at the Ames Plantation include: the Ames Manor House constructed in 1847 by John W. Jones, the homestead of John T. Patterson, one of the earliest in Fayette County, and the homestead of Robert G. Thornton which was the location of the first court session held in Fayette County in 1824. Other important sites of local historical interest include: the location of the Mount Comfort (Morgan) Store, Andrews Chapel Methodist Episcopal Church, the townsite of Pattersonville, and the earliest documented burial in Fayette County. Learn more about visiting the Ames Plantation at http://www.amesplantation.org/.
Friends of the Library Minutes, March 3, 2007
FRIENDS OF THE LIBRARY
BOLIVAR-HARDEMAN COUNTY CHAPTER
March 3, 2007
Friends of the Library met on the above date at the Bolivar-Hardeman County Regional Library. Those present were: Wanza Taylor, Librarian; Rosalyn Browder, Library Board Consultant; Dolores Fortune, Library Board Consultant; Pat Vincent, Genealogy Consultant; Juanita Bowden, Treasurer; Walter Bowden, Jr., Public Relations; Barbara Stamey; and Annette Lowrance, Secretary.
Call to Order:
The meeting was called to order by Mr. Walter Bowden at 10:30 AM and the following was discussed:
Minutes of Last Meeting:
The minutes of December 2, 2006 were read by Annette, approved by everyone present, and will stand as written.
Treasurer's Report:
Mrs. Juanita Bowden reported that we have a total of $423.61 in our account as of Feb. 14, 2007. We have three new members who joined at the recent Genealogy Workshop.
*Reminder annual dues are payable in July 2007.
NEW ARRIVAL: CS Lewis: A Biography
By A.N. Wilson
Published 1990
Biography
334 Pages
ISBN 0393028135
Chronicles the personal struggle for wisdom of renowned inspirational and children's book writer C.S. Lewis, his conversion to Christianity, and some of his problematic relationships with women, including his clandestine marriage to a divorcee.
This biography is now available at the Bolivar-Hardeman Library. For a full list of new arrivals, check the Library Message Board.
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