Notes From My Knapsack 6-24-07
Jeff Gill
Why Are We Stopping, Dad?
There are two kinds of dads – those who stop at historical markers, and those who don’t.
Admittedly, some are more compulsive than others. Yes, I have been known to go miles off our planned course to end up seeing the site of the first thoracic surgery in the state of Indiana. I think the building had been torn down, but the state historic marker was there.
For our own “Beautiful Ohio,” check out www.remarkableohio.org and enjoy some road trips from the comfort of your couch. Recently, I’ve had the chance to be present for dedications of new markers in Perry County for Zion Reformed UCC on their 200th birthday as a congregation, and along Granville’s Main Street for the Old Colony Burying Ground.
Other sites around Licking County are working on the process to get an official state historic marker. It isn’t cheap, with the base cost starting at around $2,000.
Infirmary Mound is one spot I’d love to see get an official marker; just off the side of the area where the annual Civil War re-enactment will be held this weekend, this was a fifteen foot tall conical mound before the mold-board plows starting working around the base in the 1840’s. Drive in off of Rt. 37 just north of Union Station Road, and wind your way back into Infirmary Mound Park to the Equestrian Arena; there an uneven patch of hilltop is all that remains above ground of a two millennia old family cemetery that once rose up, as opposed to spreading out across the landscape. Dozens, maybe hundreds of individuals were laid to rest there.
Next to T.J. Evans Athletic Center on Sharon Valley Road is a better preserved mound, also once fifteen feet or more in height, now maybe five. People coming to Newark Community Schools events park up the sides of this mound, which might get more respect if an official “State Historic Marker” were nearby.
We have 22 “Remarkable Ohio” state historical markers in Licking County; about five in Perry County. The oldest Licking County marker is in Hebron, set up in 1960, and the newest dates from 2007 by The Works in downtown Newark, with the Lockmaster’s House along Canal Street, helping mark Howard LeFevre’s 100th birthday as well, I’d guess. There are 1167 of them around the state over all, ranging from points along the famous Civil War “Morgan’s Raid” to the site of the first “electric suction sweeper” in North Canton with the Hoover Historical Center.
You can spend some amusing hours finding errors in these markers. I know a writer of one who found information that changed a statement made on the bronze plaque just months after they submitted their text, but you can’t erase a $2,000 slate very well. Some mistakes are rooted in changing knowledge, others from simple ignorance, and a few . . .
James Loewen is working on a new book, called “Surprises on the Landscape: Unexpected Places That Get History Right,” a follow-up to “Lies Across America,” which noted “historically inaccurate or misleading historical markers and sites across the United States.” The “Lies” book is a searing indictment of what passes for public history in many parts of our country, where inertia and the expense of changing signage leaves “savages” in metal print for future generations referring to Native Americans, or odd silences about other minority groups (check out the Cincinnati Riots of 1884, for instance).
I’m impressed with Prof. Loewen taking on the challenge of showing what’s done right, which can be more difficult to fairly present than pointing out flaws. The sites and interpretive sites that meet his perceptive and exacting standards will make for a great list of “don’t miss” historic attractions.
None of which will blunt my drive to check out the most obscure and least significant historical markers. They don’t go up unless someone there really cared about what is shared on the text. What makes them compelling is the process of reading not only the signage itself, but reading the subtext of what made this effort worth seeing through to a sign and dedication, no matter how long ago the ceremony, let alone the event commemorated.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and supply preacher around central Ohio; his family is remarkably patient with some of the stops they end up making, and who knows, it could end up being an interesting column. Tell him about historic signs you’ve seen at knapsack77@gmail.com.
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