January 24, 2016
I have always been drawn to graveyards more than cemeteries. There is a difference. Cemeteries tend to be well organized, well maintained areas of land. Graveyards can be organized, especially family plots. The older, more remote graveyards tend to be jumbled.
Some old graveyards will reveal a historical event in the hasty, disorganized or linear placement of the graves. It could have been a battle, epidemic, or accident that caused a number of deaths in a short period of time. I am always curious about the circumstances of death.
This grave is in a Russian Cemetery in Sitka, AK. There are a series of inexpensive graves. The wooden cedar cross is bare. Although the “vault” is stone, the body was not encased in a coffin, nor was a stone lid used or engraved stone marker. The obvious conclusion is lack of funds. The person could have been a deck hand, without a family or money; or someone who died from an illness. There are a series of similar graves that appear to be same age, so I would assume the later conclusion. But there could have been a ship capsize and unrecognized bodies washed ashore. This is a fairly “new” grave.
The undertaker informed me that this grave (right) is much older and most likely could be dated to late 1880s to early 1900s. He told that, in addition to the location of a grave, the type and size of trees growing around the gravesites indicated an approximation of death. The ground is very soft, moss covered, with the smell of plant decay. There is not a master plan or complete directory to the graveyard, another contrast to a cemetery. The Russian Sitka Cemetery is over 200 years old. Slightly more that 100 of the over 1,600 graves are identified. That very well could be an indication of the prosperty of the citizenship, as well as a surpluse of ship ballasts used as grave markers. The oldest marker I could find was 1806.
The fact that a 1942 grave is on top of a 1806 grave with a 1880 marker just a few feet away illustrates the chaotic randomness of the graveyard. It also leads to more questions. Johnson Williams is son to Shawootch and Kashawhat, died in 1942 of broncho pneumonia and gastroenteritis. His only son died of a heart attack at a young age.
The 1806 is maybe an Annie, but not a Johnson or Williams. It’s from an Animist culture, could be Tlingit In fact, I can not find any information on that marker.
I am fairly certain Ka-Sha-Wat’s marker was replaced by a grandchild. It’s simply too shiny to be engraved in 1880, although it’s possible. Ka-Sha-Wat was wife of Ka-Ye-Kla-ka, who’s grave marker is barely legible. Their son, Charlie Williams was born in 1847. Yes, I am very curious how a Tlingit couples used Anglo names. Anyway Charlie lived a long life, had 3 kids, a dozen grandkids (none named Johnson). I can only assume Charlie was indirectly related to Johnson Williams.
Here’s the rub. Johnson’s mother name, Kashawhat is so close to Charlie’s Ka-Sha-Wat. could it be the same women? Married to two different men? Did that even happen in the Tlingit culture where inheritance passed through maternal lines? Johnson was born in 1863; Charlie in 1847. 17 years between half-brothers is odd. According to the Tlingit, Haida and Tsimshian genealogy of Canada and Alaska both sets of parents first mention was on the son’s death certificates. It’s possible it’s a typographical error. It’s possible that the family member who completed Charlie’s death certificate was confused. One thing is correct – it is all set in stone, literally.
August 13, 2015
Seriously folks! I started with WordPress 3 years ago. In the weird twists and turns of my everyday life, there are so many odd things I see that should be shared. It’s been a blur lately. I have 27 draft posts that I haven’t gotten around to finish and post. I definitely need to get off the merry-go-round life for awhile and breathe. In part I need to blog. Everything will be scattered, but focused (mostly). Much will be my opinion or reaction. some will be odd. I really don’t know what it will be. Refer to the title of this post.
December 16, 2014
You know his music, but chances are you don’t know him. Jimmy Van Heusen, the composer of such hits as Swinging on a Star, Love and Marriage, All the Way, and High Hopes, was content to let his music speak for itself. While his legacy is inextricably linked with Frank Sinatra, Van Heusen was much more. Van Heusen is the last associate of the Rat Pack to have his story told.
Van Heusen crafted songs that transcend generations of music. Artists, such as Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Dean Martin, Ela Fitzgerald, Liza Minelli, Marilyn Monroe, Pearl Bailey, Jack Jones, Nat King Cole, Lena Horne, Rosemary Clooney, Peggy Lee, Glenn Miller, Sammy Davis, Jr., Doris Day, Billy Holiday, Cab Calloway, Jo Stafford, Margaret Whiting, Tony Bennett, and Nancy Wilson added distinction to the songs. Contemporary artists like Michael Bublé, Lady Gaga, Steve Tryell, Michael Finestein, Frank Sinatra, Jr., Seth MacFarlane, Harry Connick, Jr., and emerging artists: Nick Ziobro, Julia Goodwin, Marissa Molder, continue his legacy. Van Heusen is only one of two composers to receive a record 4 Academy Awards for Best Original Song.
Van Heusen paired with some of the greatest lyrists of all time: Sammy Cahn, Johnny Burke, Eddie DeLange, and Johnny Mercer.
Christopher A. Coppula has written the first and only biography to date of the prolific songwriter Jimmy Van Heusen. He undertook this, his first writing project, as a labor of love for the American songbook and his genuine fondness of Van Heusen’s music.
November 7, 2014
I meet people all the time that could be beneficial to me at a later date. I am very terrible on doing the follow up phone call or quick email. I’ve thought about handing my assistant all the business cards I collect and have her reach out with the “so glad to meet you” BS. It’s not that the person I’m meeting us not important but rather I’m too busy create revenue streams and following up with my existing projects in the pipeline to be bothered. I realize this is a shitty attitude to have. I’m really not “that” person.
I don’t most of my “colleagues” realized how difficult it is being self-employed versus working for a large company. I have great partnerships where I can reach out to several highly connected people in the entertainment industry to ask for a direction or contact to pursue a project that has stalled.
My problem is making the initial follow up. Many times I collect business cards from various business trips and wait until I get get caught up after my return before sending quick emails. It may be several days, weeks or months before I can get to them.
Case in point, I met a decision maker for a major ad company back in June/July? I recall it was hot. He told me to get in touch with him so we could do another ad campaign. I haven’t. I’ve since misplaced his card or it’s still in the pocket of whatever I was wearing that day.
What message does my weak follow up skills sent to these people? That I’m not interested in doing business with them? That they are too “beneath me” to send a quick email? That I’m too freaking busy? Ugh.
I need to figure a way to improve. Ideas?
October 26, 2014
It’s been extremely busy time since last I was here. Some new projects, some dead projects came back to life, new responsibilities, outsourcing responsibilities, skirting responsibilities, personal tribulations, professional advances, etc.
I’m not even sure where I’m going with this blog. Well, it’s random because that is me. Every day I am working on a handful of completely unrelated tasks and projects for the 4 or 5 family businesses that range from real estate, music publisher, book publisher, record label, and whatever I’m doing next. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to work for a single employer in a “real” job. Entrepreneurs aren’t viewed as having “real” employment for some reason.
Flaws I promised myself I would “fix” this year: delegation and project management or plate spinning as I call it. Yeah, about that. I’m not anywhere closer to finding a viable solution. I tend to start a project, then when it stalls, I will start another project while waiting on the first project to move forward again, then before you know it I have 4-5 open projects, with a few side projects, and I’m spinning plates as fast as I can. Then I have to take a step back and massage each project again to the next level. Then the spinning plates while tightrope walking blindfolded phase happens with the cursed word that should be banned from my vocabulary – DEADLINE. Those are movable until they morph into a HARD DEADLINES. Then it’s the crazy, sleepless nights to get everything done phase. Then, as plates are crashing around me, I, again, make the promise to myself not to allow this chaos into my life. Within a few months, I’m back spinning plates.
I top that off with learning new skills because of the delegation problem. It takes me twice as long to learn something than hire someone else to do it. If I hire people, I am faced with the problem of checking for mistakes because although I trust them to do their job to my level of satisfaction, they often fail me. The biggest example of this fiasco was me rushing to yet another meeting for another company, telling my assistant in passing that there is a spelling error on a book cover (which I marked with a sharpie) to which she didn’t fix because she didn’t know “foreword” was a different word from “forward.” Odd that. In hindsight I should have rechecked the proof a third time before allowing it to go to print. At what point do you waste time by not doing something yourself instead of delegating the task to another? I could have very easily made the change and emailed a correct cover proof to the printer. But, then, why hire people to make my life easier?
Back to the blogging project: I will randomly post at least weekly to get back into the habit of blogging. Maybe I will get inspiration from my ramblings and make this a focused blog. Maybe random posts are more entertaining. It certainly is better than learning to spin plates.
March 5, 2012
Odd as hell, that. Strange place with odd trivia for each President.
Presidents Park, Williamsburg, VA
February 20, 2012
Posted with permission of Shelby M. Gregory The story of Jimmy Van Heusen, aviator.
Jimmy’s first job at Lockheed was kicking dummies rigged with parachutes out of the belly of a B-17. From the number of chute failures during the test drops, Jimmy became a life long advocate of “staying in the plane.” In Jimmy’s vision parachutes were a bad choice, “even with very large flames licking my ass” bad. These thoughts would come to haunt him the day he was to fly co-pilot in a C-60 (Hudson). By the turn of fate, Jimmy’s friend Willie McConnell was chosen for a P-38 test flight. Seven Ryan trainers had just landed and were taxiing at the far end of the field when Willie hit the throttle. He roared down the runway while Jimmy watched from the edge of the field as Willie lifted off. A sharp “pop” and a puff of smoke came trailing out of one of the engines. In a frozen flash Jimmy watched in slow motion as Willie lost the moment to compensate and the P-38 ground looped. Upside down and on fire, Willie plowed down the runway incinerating the P-38, the seven Ryan Trainers, and all the helpless pilots and mechanics frozen in his path.
“I was at Lockheed more than 2 1/2 years and I was scared shitless all of the time.” Jimmy said.
Apparently the “It Cafe” at the Knickerbocker wasn’t the only spawning ground for the 125 Lockheed test pilots. As a diligent test pilot, Jimmy checked out the entire airframe during his inspections and preflight checks. Jimmy started to hatch a theory after finding ladies’ panties in the tailboom of a P-38, that there was a lot of unauthorized riveting going on at Lockheed. How in the world do you make love in a tailboom of a P-38? Jimmy saluted this extra effort on the part of moral, but found his own Methodist roots in his rejection of this poor quality control. All these Rosies the Riveters and hot-blooded test pilots were now becoming a form of sexual sabotage of the war effort. During a ground inspection of the empannage, a huge rattle revealed an entire metal lunch box riveted to the inside of the aircraft. Jimmy felt these women’s peccadilloes were dangerous to the safety of the aircraft and pilots. Perhaps he was right, as about 10% of Lockheed’s test pilots were lost in this time frame.
“When I was at Lockheed, I thought I was going to be killed everyday and when I got home from that day, I’d drink with both hands.”
During the war Jimmy continued to churn out hit after hit song for the Hollywood studios, crafting major hits for Bing Crosby and Bob Hope for their famous “Road to…” movies. When flying in the morning, he would write songs in the afternoons. Jimmy’s house was party central for test pilots and songwriters. Jimmy’s days were filled with the wild blue yonder, his nights were an assault on all that was holy. Few have had the pleasure of having their feet on the ground, and their heads in the sky.
Jimmy quietly continued his patriotic duty as a Lockheed Test Pilot during the war. He was presented the Academy Award for Best Song for “Swingin’ On A Star,” and Jimmy Van Heusen was the Prince of Tin Pan Alley.
An interesting fun fact: Lockheed and Army has no record of Jimmy Van Heusen or Chester Babcock ever being a test pilot. The photos and flightlog and tail numbers tell a different story. Odd, That. If you want to see more about Jimmy Van Heusen, visit www.jimmyvanheusen.com
Posted with permission of Shelby M. Gregory
THE LOOMING WAR
The looming war hung over Jimmy’s head, and the possibility of being drafted. It wasn’t enough to just write hit songs, so you had to have an angle to avoid being a foot soldier. Jimmy had always said. “I’ll fly through this war!” He was keeping up on his ratings, racking up hundreds of hours, instrument ratings, and finally qualifying as a Pilot Instructor. All the while Jimmy was planning to use these qualifications to volunteer as a Ferry Command Pilot. He figured, with all these flight hours and training, if Uncle Sam called, Jimmy wouldn’t walk, he would fly through WWII.
Jimmy had a love of women and booze, but the one thing that his late night Hollywood pals never knew was his one true secret love that kept him straight and focused, flying. Flying was better than booze, altitude and airspeed are their own drug, the one true love, aviation. Being a Ferry Pilot meant not being a foot soldier, it meant not walking across Europe carrying 125 pounds of iron on your shoulder.
The dry air of Palm Springs and Hollywood dismissed Jimmy’s blinding sinus headaches. It was Hollywood of 1940, and Jimmy was in heaven, but the dark clouds of war were coming to Hollywood. At cocktail parties, there was talk of war, but the music and women played on and on. Once the war started Jimmy knew he had to be on the right side of the machine of war that was starting to grind, to pull Hollywood in. There were those who had much to lose including their stardom and their lives in defense of Liberty. Soon Clark Gable would be in uniform, John Ford would be wounded at Midway, and Jimmy Stewart would be flying combat over Germany in a B-17. Hollywood was going to war, and Jimmy would be in it too, soon.
Jimmy knew that writing hit patriotic songs wouldn’t make you bulletproof, so maybe Ferry Command didn’t look so bad. Only one problem, how do you remain a hot Hollywood songwriter while you are ferrying aircraft all over the place? Ferry Command meant the death of Jimmy’s songwriting career. How do you “fly thorough the war” if you can’t take your piano with you? Jimmy decided that his draft could beat him, but they couldn’t kill him. There had to be a better way. How do you keep your hands on a beautiful woman all night and fly a hot aircraft all day? Become a Lockheed Test Pilot!
In those days the local spawning grounds for Lockheed Test Pilots was the bar at the Knickerbocker Hotel in Hollywood. This fortuitous watering hole was where Jimmy first met Lockheed’s finest fliers, and since he always picked up all the checks and chicks, the Test Pilots soon followed. After the wartime ban on private flying grounded Jimmy’s private airforce from the California coast, he moved his flying circus to Phoenix: the Luscombe, a Stinson Voyager, a Ranger Fairchild, a Stinson 5M8A with a Jacobs engine (the bucket of bolts).
Jimmy was now faced with the dilemma that would lead him to Lockheed, and his secret life as a Lockheed Test Pilot: Edward Chester Babcock. While working on the music for the movie “Road To Morocco” with Bing Crosby and Bob Hope, Jimmy had to keep up on his flying hours to maintain draft status. His sinus problems were luring him to Phoenix where he could fly, work on music, but the studios wanted him in Hollywood, so no long-distance composing. Problem was wartime restrictions meant no flying around Hollywood, and no flying hours meant walking across Europe with 125 pounds of iron on your shoulder. Not me, “I’ll fly through this war!” So how do you please either the Hollywood Studios or the Draft Board? How do you do both?
By now, Jimmy held 25 hours in Aerobatics training, a commercial pilot’s license, an instrument rating, an instructor’s rating, and 1,000 solid hours on the logbook. As a practical man, and a patriot, Jimmy presented himself to the Hollywood Recruiting Office to join the Army Air Corps. At the age of 26 1/2 Jimmy was told simply, he was over the hill, too old, not young enough. His only means to avoid ground pounding was Ferry Command, forming up in Long Beach. Ferry Command loved Jimmy Van Heusen, loved his ratings, his hours, his availability.
Meanwhile, back at the “It Cafe,” the infamous spawning grounds of the Lockheed fly boys, Jimmy fell into the company of two hard drinking, music loving characters maned Elmer McLeod and Steve Parker. As Jimmy played the piano and paid for all the drinks with “music money.” the conversation turned to aviation. Not only could this charming guy play killer piano, he was a flyer! Steve Parker was the Assistant Chief Pilot for Lockheed for P-38s. Steve’s charming friend Elmer was “Chief Pilot” at Lockheed, and together they hatched an idea. What was the life of a Test Pilot like? It was quite obvious that Steve and Elmer were living proof that Lockheed Test Pilots could, #1 fly hot planes all day long, #2 chase beautiful women all night long, #3 drink all manner of cultured spirits, and #4 Walk on water. Jimmy was in. This was his kind of crowd! These guys were going to be a lot more fun to hang out with than Bing Crosby, and “Moax” Mitch Miller.
Pearl Harbor had not yet happened, no movie studio would ever allow him to fly, and by now, Ferry Command had all the allure of being a bus driver. Even the name Ferry Command couldn’t compute in Jimmy’s songwriter’s brain, it just didn’t sound cool. Being a Test Pilot would be more fun than being a sycophant to Bing Crosby. No long trips, lots of flying hours, hot planes, hot women, Hollywood all night long, not so bad. Thus, Jimmy Van Heusen’s secret life was born. He walked in to Lockheed as a piano player and walked out a “Lockheed Test Pilot: Edward Chester Babcock,” 1 of 125 pilots.