January 2011

What should we tell our children about Vietnam?…

That was the question an Oklahoma junior high school teacher named Bill McCloud sent out in a handwritten note to men and women who had been prominent movers or observers during the Vietnam War. Politicians and journalists and generals and combat veterans answered him. Secretaries of Defense answered him. Presidents answered him. In the next issue we present a selection of the most telling responses—from Ronald Reagan and Pete Seeger, William Westmoreland and Tom Hayden, and dozens of others. Taken together, their answers form a powerful and moving record of the national conscience.

The 1904 Olympics…

As a one-time contributor to “The Fred Allen Show,” I was intrigued by Neil Grauer’s “Forgotten Laughter: The Fred Allen Story” (February issue). One of my proudest accomplishments was the acceptance and broadcast of a complete script for “Allen’s Alley.”

Your readers may be interested in this typical excerpt from a letter written to me by Allen in 1946 (all in lower case, of course):

“we try to do good programs but the network censorship and policy rulings prohibit us from using political or important items as grist for our fun mill.

“radio has been active for over twenty-five years, it is still in its infancy, radio is the only mongoloid industry in the world.”

Since Fred Allen was our very favorite radio comedian, it was most gratifying to read that “his audience was considered the most heterogeneous and the most intelligent.”

Fred Allen was to radio what Ernie Kovacs was to television or H. Allen Smith to reporting/writing. Today only Bob Elliott and Ray Goulding could be considered their confreres.

Our favorite Fred Allen line of all time was his observation on ballet: “Why don’t they just get taller girls?”

It is an old saw among editors that the most likely place to make an error is in a headline, a place so obvious that the critical eye can glide over it, as if unable to believe that mistakes could possibly turn up in large type. In two recent issues we fell into this trap. In the subhead to Alfred Kazin’s “Where Would Emerson Find His Scholar Now?” (December 1987), the date should have read 150 years later, not 175. And in “The Time Machine” for February 1988, the year 1588 should have been followed by the words Four Hundred Years Ago.

I am greatly disappointed by the limited-vision, probably politically biased kind of article represented by “Can History Save Us from a Depression?” which appeared in your February issue.

Granted, economists and those who pose as economic experts ought not be taken seriously. But why any virtually unknown “expert,” who claims to have been a significant adviser to the Reagan administration (what went wrong?), should be interviewed by the president of your publication and given prominent space is a puzzle and a discredit to the integrity of what I expect of American Heritage.

Mr. Jude Wanniski’s admitted technique of searching for a rationale after discovering he possessed an incontrovertible theory is truly a parody of all economist jokes. Mr. Timothy C. Forbes apparently does not have a sense of humor.

Let me try this one on you. I have absolute evidence that the Great Depression ended not with the advent of World War II, which many believe, but when they removed the banana flavor from Twinkles.

At work on a biography of Wilbur and Orville Wright for the past two years, I have gone to considerable lengths to share a bit of their experience. Thanks to any number of good friends, I have been able to fly a replica of their 1902 glider, serve as a crew member for flights of a reproduction 1903 airplane, and spend hours peering into a faithful replica of their 1900 wind tunnel. It has not only been fun. It has been useful. Those experiences have increased my understanding and informed my writing.

I have also visited the places that the Wrights knew. Modern Kitty Hawk is still a fascinating spot, but the very fact that the Wrights flew here has forever altered the landscape.

When I was a child, I didn’t think much about my middle name. But other people did. “How come you’re called Acton?” they would ask. “Are you named after Lord Acton?” “No, I’m named after my father,” I would reply. After a while I, too, began to wonder how the name found its way into the family. It turns out it has to do with Patriots’ Day.

Most New England children learn early the significance of April 19, the battles of Lexington and Concord, and the shot heard ‘round the world. When you are surrounded by monuments, parades, prose, and a day off from school, it is hard to ignore Patriots’ Day.

The town of Acton was very much involved in the events of April 19,1775. The Acton Minutemen, under the command of Capt. Isaac Davis, were said to be the best drilled in the colony. When the call to arms came, they marched up Punkatasset Hill and joined the Concord Minutemen, who were on their way to the old North Bridge.

Among recently published books that fall within our bailiwick, the editors of American Heritage have selected some outstanding titles.

The Selected Letters of Louisa May Alcott Superpower: The Making of a Steam Locomotive
The Time of the Trolley: The Street Railway from Horsecar to Light Rail
Horses in Harness

edited by Joel Myerson and Daniel Shealy, associate editor Madeleine B. Stern: Little, Brown; 352 pages .

by David Weitzman; David R. Godine; 108 pages; $19.95.