A Few San Antonio Statues

I didn’t specifically seek out statues while visiting San Antonio, but sometimes I would be wandering along and there was another one. Such as this fellow, important enough to get a life-sized bronze downtown, on Houston St.

TC Frost San Antonio Feb 2015It’s Thomas Claiborne Frost (1833-1903): frontier lawyer, Confederate commander, wool merchant, and eventually banker. Frost Bank exists to this day as a major regional bank focusing only on Texas markets, and most recently it had the distinction of not being caught with exposure to the bum mortgages of the 2000s, and so turned down TARP money.

Sculptor Robert L. Dean Jr. did the Frost statue. He’s better known for a number of Eisenhower statues, including ones in Denison, Texas; West Point; Ike’s presidential library; and in London and Normandy. He also did Patton, Bradley, DeGaulle, and Eddie Rickenbacker, among others. I’d never seen the Frost bronze because it’s fairly new, put there only in 2001.

Here’s a person I didn’t know had a bust in San Antonio.

FDR San Antonio Feb 2015President Roosevelt, looking not quite like the FDR we know from photos and movies, but never mind. The memorial is on the grounds of San Antonio City Hall, a 1946 gift from Mexico — specifically, the Comite Mexicano de Accion Civica y Cultural. The sculptor was from San Antonio, however: Louis Rodriguez, a member of a family that still carves memorials and gravestones. Louis and his brother James best-known work is the Alamo Cenotaph.

Not far away is “The Conquistador,” a bronze outside the Spanish Governor’s Palace.

Conquistador, San Antonio Feb 2015It too was a gift to the city — by the government of Spain in 1977, “as a symbol of the close ties of Spain and San Antonio,” according to the plaque at the foot of the work. The sculptor was Enrique Monjo, who also did work at the National Cathedral.

Conquistador San Antonio Feb 2015Here’s a fellow in a Texas pose.

Miram Park San Antonio Feb 2015Who holds his weapon so defiantly? Texian Ben Milam, in Milam Park downtown. He was one of the leaders of the Texian forces in the Siege of Bexar in late 1835, which resulted in the capture of San Antonio from Mexican forces under Gen. Martin Perfecto de Cos, an incident that precipitated the better-known Battle of the Alamo a few months later. Milam didn’t live to participate in that, or even the conclusion of the Siege of Bexar, since a Mexican bullet hit him in the head on December 7, 1835, two days ahead of Cos’ surrender. Besides Milam Park, a scattering of other places in the state are named for him, such as Milam County, northeast of Austin. But the Ben Milam Hotel in Houston is no more.

One Bonnie McLeary did the statue, which was commissioned for the Texas Centennial in 1936, along with a number of other statues around the state. She’s better known, according to A Comprehensive Guide to Outdoor Sculpture in Texas (1996), for her “garden sculptures and her portrayal of children.”

Then there’s Jolly Jack.

Jolly Jack San Antonio Feb 2015Sea Island San Antonio Feb 2015He stands outside of Sea Island, a restaurant on the North Side of San Antonio, near North Star Mall. Remarkably, I’ve been able to find mention of its creators, two Austin artists named Dana Younger and Kevin Collins, at least in this 1998 Austin Chronicle article: “In August, the area was dominated by Jolly Jack, a 10-foot-tall statue commissioned by Sea Island Shrimp House. Jack is the regional seafood chain’s answer to the classic Bob’s Big Boy, an oversized cartoon fat kid [looks like an old-time jack fisherman to me, not a fat kid] in cut-off blue jeans and bare feet, with a red-and-white striped shirt and a black top hat. He proudly holds a five-foot-long fish up in his left hand to entice potential diners. Collins and Younger were paid $9,000 to make the mold and will get $3,000 for each of three more Jolly Jacks.”

Who’s Next in Line?

Question for the day: What’s The Onion going to do after Joe Biden leaves office? The paper’s been mining him extensively for low comedy for a while now, but there’s only two more years to go. It seems unlikely that any successor to that colorless office will make such a fine target.

Skipped watching the State of the Union this evening, which I usually do. President Jefferson might have had the right idea: just send a written message to Congress and be done with it. President Wilson, with his pedagogic urges, revived the spoken address. In any case, the president says x, and the opposition then says, liar, liar pants on fire.

I was interested to learn that this year’s “designated survivor” – a Cabinet member who’s out of town during the speech, in case Cylons attack – was Secretary of Transportation Anthony Foxx. Not particularly a household name, but I remember him as the former mayor of Charlotte, a market I used to write about regularly.

Under the normal, fully hypothetical scheme of succession, Secretary Foxx is 13th in line to be president (with the vice president being first). Bringing up the caboose is Homeland Security Secretary Jeh Johnson, at 17th. The postmaster general hasn’t been on the list since the USPS was organized in 1971.

Upclose Ornaments

Today I wasted spent a few minutes taking pictures of Christmas tree ornaments in situ, and then more posting them. Such as the ever-popular Michelin Man.

Ornament 2014It would seem to violate my guidelines about commercial ornaments, and it does. But it’s the Michelin Man. I’ll make an exception.

Ornament 2014We have four of these, acquired who knows where in the last 15 years. Lilly said this year that these were favorites of hers. I had no idea. They are pretty baubles.

Ornament 2014We have two pickles on the tree. One of Ann’s friends saw it almost immediately and wanted to know, with some urgency, why there were pickles on the tree. All I can say to that is Why Not?

Ornaments 2014Not bad for tin and plastic. It’s a “UFO” ornament, acquired many years ago. In theory, they rest on top of lights and glow (the one here is perpendicular to the ground, rather than horizontal). In practice, they never fit very well on any lights, especially the newer LEDs. So we just hang them any old way.

Finally, one with a presidential connection.

Ornaments 2014Well, vice presidential connection. About 10 years ago, I visited the Evanston Historical Society, which happens to be in the former mansion of Vice President Charles Dawes. They were giving away these thin metal ornaments, and so here it is.

TR & Saint-Gaudens

Remarkable summer-like weekend just passed, but unlike the previous weekends, we didn’t go anywhere. Spent a fair amount of time on the deck reading. Seemingly overnight, some neighborhood trees have turned yellow.

The other day I picked up Striking Change: The Great Artistic Collaboration of Theodore Roosevelt and Augustus Saint-Gaudens by Michael F. Moran (2007) at Half-Priced Books. Looks good. Presidential history and numismatics: a winning combo for sure. I hope to get around to it soon, but then again I have Illegal Tender: Gold, Greed, and the Mystery of the Lost 1933 Double Eagle, by David Tripp, and I haven’t gotten around to reading it yet.

Anyway, TR thought US coinage of the time was uninspired at best, particularly the gold coins, and set about to change them. A lesser-known effort than busting trusts or digging the Panama Canal, but one certainly worthy of TR’s attention. So was born the well-admired Augustus Saint-Gaudens coins.

But there seems to be more to the book than that story. Q. David Bowers writes in Coinbooks.com: “The text is particularly valuable in showcasing the sculptor’s activities with important numismatic projects beyond the famous 1907 coinage. While the story of the coins has been told in depth in several places, including in Renaissance of American Coinage 1906–1908 (Burdette, 2007) and United States Gold Coins: An Illustrated History (Bowers,1982), treatment of the important medals has ranged from scarcely anything to light sketches. Striking Change ends that.

“Further, the author gives a comprehensive look at the design competition for new United States coins in 1891. This involved quite a bit of effort at the time, but ultimately ended as a non-event, as outside artists consulted in the competition did not seem to have created motifs that anyone liked—and Chief Engraver Charles E. Barber of the United States Mint ended up creating new motifs for the dime, quarter, and half dollar.”

The George Bush Presidential Library

I’m told that we went to the Eisenhower Library when I was a child, but I don’t remember it. Since then I’ve visited other presidential libraries or museums: Lincoln, Hoover, Truman, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Carter. And now the George Bush Presidential Library, focusing on George Bush the elder. Jay and I visited just before we left College Station.  

GHWB Prez Library 2014His library opened in 1997 on the Texas A&M campus, though it’s  way out from everything else. Bush didn’t attend A&M, famously being a Yale man, but presumably the Aggies put in the best bid. Besides, he did make his name in the oil business in Texas. A&M oversees the place with the National Archives and Records Administration. It’s an HOK design, which from the front looks a little like it’s missing a dome.

Presidential history’s interesting (of course it is), but I thought that the most interesting exhibit in this particular museum was a temporary one about offshore oil drilling. Called “Offshore Drilling: The Promise of Discovery” (sponsored by Shell), the museum says that it’s “a tribute to [Bush’s] role in the development and use of the innovative independent leg offshore jack-up rig Scorpion launched by LeTourneau in 1956… It focuses on the history, development and future of offshore drilling, with an emphasis on the work of George Bush, emerging technologies and ongoing research at Texas A&M University.”

An independent leg offshore jack-up rig is a mobile offshore platform stable enough for the open ocean, but flexible enough to be moved when the time comes. Before 1956, offshore platforms mostly had to be fixed permanently to the bottom, limiting their usefulness; the few floating platforms couldn’t stand heavy seas, so they tended to be near shore. LeTourneau was an inventor: Robert Gilmour LeTourneau (1888-1969). He was, says Wiki, “a prolific inventor of earthmoving machinery. His machines represented nearly 70 percent of the earthmoving equipment and engineering vehicles used during World War II, and over the course of his life he secured nearly 300 patents.”

Drilling Contractor (Sept/Oct 2005) further tells the story: “Although the concept of a deep-sea, mobile offshore platform aroused considerable interest among the oil companies, none of the companies were prepared to help finance construction of such an expensive (nearly $3 million) and unproven project. Then [in the early 1950s] Mr. LeTourneau proposed the idea to Zapata Off-Shore Company of Houston, headed by future United States President George H.W. Bush.” (The article is here.)

Zapata. You have to like that name for an oil company. (Apparently Bush and his partners were inspired by the movie Viva Zapata!) So Zapata became the first oil company to use an independent leg offshore jack-up rig. The exhibit tells that story, but even better, it includes models of various rigs, platforms and supply vessels that have been used over the years by the industry — exceptionally detailed models — as well as pieces of drilling equipment.

The rest of the museum has pretty much what you’d expect: exhibits about different stages of the life and career of George Bush the elder, including his harrowing escapes from death as a naval aviator in the Pacific in 1944 (over the course of the year, his squadron suffered a 300 percent casualty rate), though no mention of this story that I saw, and his various public-sector jobs, both elected and appointed. A well-done set of displays, but even so it’s hard to think of any presidency that happened while you’re an adult as history.

Other items included a big hunk of the Berlin Wall, a replica Oval Office – any presidential museum worth its salt has one – and a life-sized bronze of Bush, depicting him as Ambassador to the United Nations.

Texas4.25.14 048I didn’t make a picture of the oddest bit of art we saw in the museum. Called “1000 Points of Light,” it was painted for the Points of Light Foundation, which encourages volunteerism. A presidential George Bush reaches for a nimbus-ed U.S. flag, while a crowd of enraptured everyday Americans watches. I’d call the style Socialist Realism, but there’s no socialist content here. Maybe Volunteerist Realism. The artist is Frank Hopper, who seems to excel at this kind of thing, and is also fixated on mermaids.

Stranger still are the ghost presidents in the sky, watching. And not just any ghost presidents. With the exception of Washington and Jefferson and either Madison or Monroe, all the rest of them are ghost Republican presidents, all the way from Lincoln to Reagan. The faces are a little spectral, but I think the only ones left out are Arthur and Harding. Take a look.

In the plaza outside the museum stands another work of art, “The Day the Wall Came Down,” by Veryl Goodnight.

Texas4.25.14 042Bronze horses racing over replicated bits of the Berlin Wall, with graffiti copied from the actual wall (the west side, naturally). With the horses, the plaque tells us, “representing the freedom of the human spirit.” Fine figures of horses, and all very kinetic, which is fitting for the destruction of the wall, but I’m not sure how well beasts of burden stand in for the unconquerable human spirit.

Though the pieces of the Berlin Wall in “The Day the Wall Came Down” seem to be simulations, the sculpture (and the actual piece inside) did get me thinking. Like pieces of the World Trade Center, or moon rocks, where are all the scattered bits of that former communist concrete now? Relics tend to get around.

Maxine’s Chicken & Waffles

Until recently, I was only dimly aware of chicken & waffles. As a combined meal, that is, apparently known to the Pennsylvania Dutch and as a soul-food specialty in the 20th century. (More about it here.) Not long ago, Lilly started mentioning the combo. Not sure why. Maybe she picked it up from a let’s-go-there-and-eat-something show (e.g., Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.)

Anyway, the notion had lodged in my mind just in time for me to see a listing for Maxine’s Chicken & Waffles, which is at 132 N. East St., right at the eastern edge of downtown Indy. The area’s still mostly small commercial uses and parking lots, though I spotted a couple of apartment complexes being developed nearby.

Once I saw the listing in one of those publications left in hotel rooms, and did a little reading about the place – this is the age of Yelp, after all – I suggested it for Saturday lunch, after we’d finished with the Eiteljorg Museum. I didn’t want to end up at some restaurant that could be anywhere, just because we couldn’t think of anywhere else to go, and everyone wanted to eat right now.

Maxine’s is about a 20-minute walk eastward from the museum, across the heart of downtown Indianapolis. Along the way we spotted the statue of Vice President Hendricks, but also another memorial that goes to show the veneration we still have for President Lincoln.

Indy, April 2014It marks the spot where Lincoln stopped to speak, on February 11, 1861, on his way to Washington City to become president. (We should still call it Washington City. Maybe that usage will return if DC wins statehood.)

We arrived at Maxine’s for a late lunch. Good thing, too, because I’ll bet the place gets really crowded on Saturday morning and into the early afternoon. As it was, it was mostly full. According to a sign on the wall, and its web site as well, the place only dates from 2007, founded by the children and grandchildren of Ollie and Maxine Bunnell, whose large family had a knack for cooking (Maxine’s regular job was cooking at St. Francis Hospital).

I’m glad that the restaurant survived the recession. Not every venture started in 2007 would be so lucky. But I don’t think luck was the main factor. We all had a variation of chicken & waffles – plain, blueberry and strawberry waffles – and they were terrific. So seemingly simple, so artfully made.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAs you can see, it’s your basic waffle, adorned by three fried chicken wings, with a bit of honey-butter on the side, along with syrup. The combo works. They complement each other. After you’ve eaten some of the sweet waffles, you switch to the mildly spicy chicken, and then back. From beginning to end, not a bad bite in sight. Not even a mediocre one. Whatever soul-food recipes the heirs of Ollie and Maxine have come up with, they’re winners.

Chief Magistrate Blog Revised

“Presidents Day” is nearly upon us again. Time to dwell on the immortal deeds of David Rice Atchison. Just kidding. I don’t care what’s on his tombstone, he never held the office. Snopes has a long-winded discussion of the matter, but covers it pretty well.

Ten years ago I was long-winded myself when I wrote that “one of my travel hobbies, whenever it’s possible — and it isn’t too often — is to visit presidential sites. I’ve only been doing this since about 1996, so I can’t call it a life-long pursuit. And I rarely go out of my way to see a presidential site. But if it’s around, I’ll seek it out.”

Then I listed the sites I’ve managed to see, with a little commentary. I will update the list here, with places visited in the last 10 years italicized, plus more links than anyone’s likely to care about. It occurs to me that I haven’t added very many over the last decade. I’d need to spend more time on the East Coast, Virginia in particular, to run up the total, or closer at hand, Ohio.

Washington Monument, DC. Inspired by Egypt, hotbed of democracy. But a fine work all the same; Federal Hall, Wall Street, New York. Site of Washington’s first inauguration.

Monticello. Fascinating place, but I understand that home improvements drove Jefferson into penury; Jefferson Memorial, DC.

The Hermitage, Jackson‘s home in Nashville. Made quite an impression on me when I was 8. Still good as an adult.

Tippecanoe Battlefield, where Wm. Henry Harrison won his fame. The best diversion on the dull drive between Chicago and Indianapolis. More details here.

Polk‘s grave, Nashville. A neglected president, because his style of imperialism is out of fashion.

Lincoln‘s tomb, home (Springfield, Ill.); Lincoln Memorial, Ford’s Theater (DC); Lincoln’s New Salem State Historic Site, Ill., where Lincoln lived as a young man; Lincoln Birthplace, Lincoln Boyhood Home (Ky.);  Lincoln’s Landing, Lockport, Ill.; Site of the Wigwam, where Lincoln was nominated, Chicago; Lincoln Museum, Springfield. Hadn’t been opened 10 years ago.

Andrew Johnson‘s birthplace, Raleigh, NC. Andrew Johnson NHS and Andrew Johnson grave, Greeneville, Tenn.

Grant‘s home, Galena, Ill., Grant’s home, St. Louis. At the latter, my brother and I looked around for empty whisky bottles, but no luck; Grant’s tomb, NYC. Well worth seeing.

Hayes‘ home and grave, Fremont, Ohio. The docent was really glad to see me. Stopped there to break up a trip on the interminable Ohio Turnpike.

Benjamin Harrison‘s home, Indianapolis. This docent was glad too. Nice Victorian house; Benjamin Harrison’s grave, Indianapolis. Too simple. Some governors of Indiana had better headstones. (I’m not so sure its simplicity is a bad thing any more; it’s got republican virtue going for it.)

Teddy Roosevelt‘s boyhood home, NYC. A well-done replica of the original brownstone, which actually has a brown exterior.

Taft’s grave, Arlington National Cemetery, Va.

The Blackstone Hotel (Smoke-Filled Room, Harding), Chicago

Hoover Library, Hoover’s birthplace, Hoover’s grave, West Branch, Iowa. I admire Hoover because he was a well-traveled man.

FDR Memorial, DC. Detailed here.

Truman Library, Truman’s home, Truman’s grave, Independence, Mo. There’s something a little odd about being buried on the grounds of your library, but there he is with Bess.

JFK grave, Arlington National Cemetery, Va.; Kennedy death limo, Dearborn, Mich.; Sixth Floor Museum, Dallas (forgot to list this 10 years ago. Yuriko and I went there in 1992).

LBJ ranch, LBJ grave, Stonewall, Tex. The historical re-enactors at the ranch refused to give me, the only visitor, any of the pie they had made. LBJ Library, Austin.

Nixon Library, Nixon’s boyhood home, Nixon’s grave, Yorba Linda, Calif. Where President Nixon lies still.

Ford Museum, Grand Rapids; Ford grave, Grand Rapids. He wasn’t dead yet in 2004.

Carter Library, Atlanta. Every now and then I have a touch of nostalgia for the Carter administration. No mention of the Killer Rabbit incident or Billy Beer at the library, however.

Reagan‘s boyhood home, Dixon, Ill. Bizarre statue next door of Reagan holding kernels of corn.

George HW Bush‘s Kinnebunkport home, Maine. I was a little lost on the coastal roads of Maine that day, I’m pretty sure I saw it from a distance in 1989. I’m surprised I was able to get as close as I did, but I suppose he wasn’t there that day.

Clinton Birthplace, Hope, Ark.

Also, the White House. That would be associated with every president since John Adams.

042And the U.S. Capitol. Besides statues of various chief magistrates, there are plaques on the floor in the old House chamber, now Statuary Hall, marking the locations of the desks of J.Q. Adams, Tyler, Polk, Fillmore, Pierce, Buchanan, Lincoln and Andrew Johnson.

Finally, St. John’s Episcopal Church, DC, the church that’s been visited by every sitting president since Madison, complete with a presidential pew and kneeling cushions with the names of presidents on them.

Shiny Lincolns

Yesterday I noticed an oddity in my loose change, a shiny Wheat Cent. Nothing particularly valuable, since it’s a 1957 coin, but still unusual. I scrounged around until I found a shiny Lincoln Memorial Cent, which isn’t that easy to find either, and a Union Shield Cent, which are practically all shiny. I put them together and preserved their shininess for posterity, if any. A fitting thing to do to mark Lincoln’s 205th birthday.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAVictor D. Brenner designed the Wheat Cent, obverse and reverse. The obverse, at least, has proved remarkably durable, from 1909 to the present, and will probably last until the sad day the U.S. retires the penny, as Canada has. It’s also gone where no coin has gone before – I think – namely Mars.

Frank Gasparro did the Lincoln Memorial Cent. Nice enough, with intricate detail, I suppose, but I never thought it compared to the Wheat Cent.

Lyndall Bass did the Union Shield Cent, a fine design. Doubt that it will make it to 2059, but at least it’s a good way to end the denomination.

The Auditorium Theatre

How many inglenooks are there in public buildings in greater Chicago? A fireplace recess, that is. I wouldn’t know, but it couldn’t be too many.

The Auditorium Theatre on Congress Ave. downtown has two large ones, echoing the enormous size of the theater itself, in the dress circle lobby. In 1889, when the theater was spanking new, the inglenooks featured gas fireplaces with cast-iron “logs” and long benches warmed by radiators underneath the cushions, and walls adorned by foliate mosaic friezes. Socializing went on, but so did warming. The Earth was colder then, and indoor heating was much more primitive.

I’m pretty sure I didn’t notice the inglenooks when I attended a show at the Auditorium Theatre in 1989. Or was it 1988? I went to see a radio broadcast of Michael Feldman’s Whad’Ya Know? Or was it Lily Tomlin’s one-woman show? It’s a jumble. In any case, I remember the Auditorium Theatre being opulent in the late 1980s, but since then Roosevelt University, which owns the building, completed a restoration in 2001 to make it look more like it did when the structure was spanking new. So when I saw the theater on Saturday, I saw something new – which looked old.

On December 19, 1889, President Benjamin Harrison and Vice President Levi P. Morton  – just about everyone’s favorite obscure high office holders of the Gilded Age, I figure – came for the dedication of the Auditorium Theatre. Interestingly enough, they’d been nominated for these offices in the summer of ’88 at the theater, even though it wasn’t finished yet. That’s where the Republican Party held its convention that year.

President Harrison said a few words at the dedication, which are on a plaque hanging on the wall at the south inglenook: “I wish that this great building may continue to be to all your population that which it should be: opening its doors from night to night, calling your people away from cares of business to those enjoyments and entertainments which develop the souls of men and inspire those whose lives are heavy with daily toil and in this magnificent and enchanted presence, lift them for a time out of dull things into those higher things where men should live.”

He and his vice president would have seen an interior very much like I saw this weekend, a tour de force design by Louis Sullivan and Dankmar Adler, with its 3,500 clear-glass electric light bulbs luminously arrayed on the ceiling arches, the balcony and the gallery fronts, the 20 x 24-foot murals depicting winter and spring, and the 4,200 seats, including some way, way up in the third balcony. These days, I understand, there are 3,877 seats; people have grown fatter in the last 130 years.

The theater has plenty of other distinctions, which are best explored at its web site. Like many other grand buildings, it was nearly destroyed. Supposedly in the early ’30s, when it seemingly had outlived its economic usefulness, bids were taken for demolition. But the theater and its surrounding building (more about which later) were so solidly built that no one wanted to pay to have it razed.

Another story I enjoyed about the theater is its World War II use. The USO had the stage and some of the front-row seats removed to install a bowling alley. It looked like this.

For Chicago developer Ferdinand Peck, the theater was only one component of the property, and so it remains today. The Auditorium Theatre is part of the Auditorium Building, which originally included office space and a hotel, and now has office space and classrooms. Since 1946, Roosevelt University has owned the building as well as the theater, which have separate entrances. The Auditorium Building also could be explored as a part of Openhousechicago, so I took a look.

The building has a fine lobby, and a grand staircase with nice stained glass, and a good view of Grant Park and Lake Michigan from its library on the 12th floor. It also pays homage to a president and first lady.

This mosaic is on the landing between the first and second floors. Also in the lobby are busts of Franklin and Eleanor, in case you’re inclined to think the school was named after the other famed Roosevelt.

Bombs Away, Mr. Nixon

Very warm today, a continuing summer that’s going to lead us to a sudden dropoff into cold. Maybe not literally, but it’s going to feel that way in hindsight. One day soon I’ll blink and the trees will be bare and the ground white. I’m wondering how the dog will react – up for romps in the snow, or whining at the prospect of going out in the cold? We’ll see.

Today, for obvious reasons, I was wondering about the quote: “The President of the United States can bomb anybody he likes.” Now where did that come from? One reason it’s so easy to get distracted on line is that you can ask Google such a question and see where it takes you. So I did.

One of the search results I got was this. I started reading it and it was a few seconds before I realized that I’d written it. The quote (though a little altered) is from the movie Nixon, said by Anthony Hopkins’ President Nixon. I don’t know if the president himself actually said such a thing, but I bet the scriptwriter thought it sounded like something he might have said, and it does.