One Man’s Vision—8   

We’ve shared with you in the last four weeks one man’s vision for a greater Jefferson City (well, actually two men, as we wrote about Mayor C. W. Thomas—who inspired this series—in our first entry).  Our list is far from inclusive of all good ideas nor is having a vision my exclusive domain. You have been invited to share your visions and I hope you will do that now that we are wrapping up this series.

All of this ambitious talk about places to meet, places to visit, and places to live has overlooked a lot of our people who have few or none of the opportunities to participate.  If we are to be a great city, we cannot overlook them.

At the library, we sometimes hear about our “homeless problem” and there are those who tell us they won’t visit the library or bring their children there because of “them.”  Those patrons and other critics demand we “do something” about them.  “They” make people uncomfortable.

The library does not have a homeless problem. The CITY has a homeless problem and the public library is an uncomfortable participant in it—because we have to be.

We are a public institution and whether a person owns a mansion or sleeps in a box, that person is part of “the public.”  There is no place for them to go during the day after their overnight accommodations shut down.  We are their warm place on frigid days. We are their cool place on oppressively hot days.  We are their bathrooms.

I’m sorry that some people are offended because “they” don’t dress as well as most of us…or smell as good as most of us and they hang around our building.

We do not often have any problems with these folks although there have been times when we have called police and some have been banished from our premises.  We have signs throughout our building reminding our homeless visitors not to sleep there. Our staff can’t be a dozer police, though, because of their regular duties.

But most of them are okay. We do not judge them on various criteria any more than we judge any of you. You are the public, constituents using a public place in a personal way, too.

I have not had a chance to ask our critics what their solution is.  But ignoring the issue or saying it is someone else’s problem to solve is something for the Old Jefferson City—-at a time when a BOLD Jefferson City should be our goal.

Celebrations of things such as bicentennials of becoming the state capital can work in more ways than one. We should make sure our bicentennial observance doesn’t leave “them” out.  They are people, the public, fellow citizens.  And they deserve—by their presence among us—respect.

Great cities do not become great by only catering to people who smell good.

To do any of the things I have discussed in this series to move a good city toward greatness without facing the problems of those to whom greatness is just a word is irresponsible.  As citizens of this community we are responsible to and for one another. That’s what the word “community” implies.

I can’t tell you how to make these things discussed in these entries happen. Many of you have the expertise I lack.

Leonardo daVinci made drawings of flying machines. The Wright Brothers made the machine that flew.  Humphry Davy, Warren de la Rue, and Joseph Swan made electric lights but Thomas Edison created the incandescent bulb. Carl Benz created a gasoline-powered automobile but Henry Ford showed how to manufacture them.  John Fleming invented the vacuum tube but Guglielmo Marconi created radio.

Some have ideas. Others have the expertise to realize them.

So I’m going to leave you with three statements that have motivated me most of my life and I hope they encourage you to become active in this quest.

The English playwright George Bernard Shaw wrote a lengthy play called Back to Methuselah, retelling some of the earliest stories of the Bible. He creates a conversation in which the snake convinces Eve she should want to learn, that she should eat from the tree of knowledge instead of just living mindlessly in the Garden of Eden.  The snake appeals to her curiosity by saying, “You see things, and you say ‘Why?’   I dream dreams that never were, and I say, ‘Why not?’”

I am asking today, “Why not?”

The German philosopher Johan Wolfgang von Goethe continued that thought when he advised, “Dream no small dreams for they have no power to move the hearts of men.”

I am asking you to dream bigger dreams than we have dreamed, bigger even than a new convention center.

Goethe’s  tragic masterwork, Faust, includes this observation:

Lose this day loitering—’twill be the same story
To-morrow–and the next more dilatory;
Then indecision brings its own delays,
And days are lost lamenting o’er lost days.
Are you in earnest? seize this very minute–
What you can do, or dream you can, begin it,
Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it,
Only engage, and then the mind grows heated—
Begin it, and the work will be completed!

I am asking our city to be bold.

A bicentennial’s greatest value lies not in dwelling on the past, but in building a foundation for the TRIcentennial. It still will not be good enough to be the Capital City.  What more can we be….if we lay the foundation for it now?

I want our bicentennial to be characterized by a sense of boldness that turns a “good enough” city into a great one, that discovers the genius, power, and magic in boldness.

A century ago, a mayor who had seen this city become a modern city that in his lifetime fought off two efforts to take the seat of government elsewhere—Sedalia’s 1896 statewide vote on capital removal and efforts after the 1911 fire to build a new capitol somewhere else—and who modernized our town died dreaming of a convention center.

His spirit of progress is worth recalling and becoming a motivator for becoming a greater city.

You’ve read one man’s vision for accomplishing that.  What is yours?

How can we do it?

One Man’s Vision—7 

We recognize that not everyone wants change.  The status quo is comfortable, predictable, and requires little effort or participation. Life is good as-is.

And it’s cheaper than trying to be better.  Better equals more taxes. More taxes advocated by those who want their city to BE more are a burden to those who think they cannot afford to live in a greater city.

It’s hard for some to see the benefits that come with a desire to be better.  But the business world shows us that people want better things, will buy them, and the commerce generated with those purchases lifts both ends of economic boats.

But still, there are those who will say “no.”

Decades ago, while working at The Arcola Record-Herald, a small-town Illinois newspaper that provided my first journalism paycheck, I came across “The Knocker’s Prayer,” published in 1918.  Some of the language is dated but the sentiment is contemporary for some people.

Lord, please don’t let this town grow.  I’ve been here for thirty years, and during that time I’ve fought every public improvement.  I’ve knocked everything and everybody, no firm or individual has established a business here without my doing all I can to put them out of business.  I’ve lied about them, and would have stolen from them I had the courage.

I have done all I could to keep the town from growing and never have spoken a good word for it. I’ve knocked hard and often. I have put ashes on the children’s slide and I’ve made the Marshall stop the boys from playing ball on my vacant lot.  Whenever I saw anyone prospering or enjoying themselves, I’ve started a reform to kill the business or spoil the fun.

I don’t wany the young folks to stay in this town and I will do all I can by law, rule and ordinance to drive them away. It pains me, O Lord, to see that in spite of my knocking, it is beginning to grow, Someday, I fear I will be called upon to put down sidewalks in front of my property and who knows but what I may have to help keep up the streets that run by my premises.  This, Lord, would be more than I could bear. It would cost me money, though all I have was made right here in this town. 

Then, too, more people might come if the town begins to grow, which would cause me to lose some of my pull.  I ask, therefore, to keep this town at a standstill, that I may continue be the chief calamity howler. Amen.

But great, or even good, futures are not made by those who choose to stand pat, who argue against daring to be better.

The American Revolution was led by a bunch of rabble-rousers who found British subservience intolerable.  The frontier was expanded by those who dared to cross the Alleghenies. The Civil War was fought because the status quo that allowed one people to own other people was no longer acceptable. The Santa Fe, Oregon, and California Trails were populated by the minority who left comfort behind for greater opportunities (and, we have to admit, destroyed the status quo of the Native Americans in their way) west of Missouri.  Everything of modern society comes from those who saw beyond what-is to what can-be.

The status quo and its costs are not static. The expenses of maintaining the status quo, usable streets for example for example, increases.

The future IS expensive but so is maintaining the present. For a little more, we can reach for a little greatness. And history shows leaders always drag the “knockers” along with them.  And the “knockers” enjoy the benefits of progress, too.

There are always going to be “knockers,” the people who say, “We can’t do this” or “Why do this?”

The pioneers, the leaders, the people who still embody the American spirit of making life better for themselves and those they know and will never know, are the ones who ask, “How can we do this?” and then find the answer to their own question.

The first gubernatorial inauguration I covered as a reporter was that of Warren Hearnes, who was sworn in, in 1969 for his historic second term, and said in his inaugural speech:

To do and be better is a goal few achieve. To do it, we are required to make sacrifices—not in the sense of shedding our blood or giving of our lives or the lives of those we love, but sacrifice in the sense of giving of a part of those material things which we enjoy in abundance. A great people will sacrifice part of that with which they have been blessed in order that their children will be better educated; their less fortunate more fortunate; their health better health; their state a better state.

We must never fear as a city to ask better of ourselves, for ourselves, and for those we drag along with us.

There’s another group that risks staying behind when others reach for something better.

In our concluding post in this series, we’ll talk about those we should not overlook in our search for greatness.

One Man’s Vision—4 

A state-of- the-art comprehensive Jefferson City/Cole County History Museum, at the old prison—discussed in the previous entry in this series—should be only a start.

Let’s shoot for the moon.

What really would be a giant step toward greatness would be he acquisition of another museum, one destined for a Smithsonian-quality reputation.

Six years ago we had a shot at getting the Steamboat Arabia museum to move here from Kansas City. But our planning group never got beyond talking, talking, talking and the expertise I hoped would develop when the group was formed never did develop. In effect, we decided we are good enough, as is. And one important business leader straight-out told me it wouldn’t work here.

None of the people I thought would take the practical lead did. But another smaller, more ambitious town went beyond talking and what it discovered for itself speaks volumes of what Jefferson City would have discovered had there been some initiative generated by all of that talking and should be a challenge to Jefferson City to show it wants to be more than the state capitol, more than a convention center can give us, more than we are.

City leaders in Marshall reportedly raised $150,000 for a feasibility study of a steamboat museum at I-70 and Highway 65. The initial investment would be high. The payoff will be large and long-lasting

The findings show that the payoff of this major commitment will be multiples of what was forecast for the Marshall/Sedalia/Lexington area.

I took a lot of notes at the meeting where the findings by the consulting firm of Peckham, Guyton, Albers & Viets (PGAV) were revealed three years ago.

PGAV called the museum proposal “a chance to put something iconic in Central Missouri.’  It described a state of the art museum with a national and regional strategy. It addressed continued investment that renewed the museum’s life cycle, the development of supporting amenities, the financial sustainability for generations, and the leadership the project would provide for future development.

The company looked at tourism strategies—attracting people to the area, creating support for the project, and connecting the museum to other parts of the country by defining a larger region to draw from.

They saw the museum as being a local draw and, more important, a destination attraction. PGAV calculated the trade area for the museum south of Marshall at more than 7.5 million people within a three-hour travel time.  The study forecast the operating costs would be about $2.4 million a year, based on an $18 adult admission fee, retail sales, and food and beverage income, among other things. It could be operated with 18 fulltime employees.

The first phase would be a 77,000 square foot museum (about double the present footprint, that would hold the Arabia and a second boat (we’ll discuss that later) and provide support and storage space on 3.7 acres, including parking. Estimated cost: $37 million.  That’s what we built the Center for Missouri Studies for in Columbia—a three-story, 77-thousand square feet building.  By the time the third phase of the steamboat museum would be completed, the complex would cover 8 acres, including parking

PGAV’s site analysis pointed to the great visibility of the museum from I-70 and to the great amount of open land at Marshall Junction.

The company found that museums are “economic engines” for an area—that non-profit art and culture attractions have an economic impact of more than one-billion dollars in Missouri (that’s a 2015 study).  They calculated that $1 generated by such a museum would generate $3.20 for the economy.

The study identifies several financial tools created by state law—Community Development Block Grants, Neighborhood Assistance tax credits, Community Improvement Districts, and ta exempt bonds issued by the Missouri Development Finance Board.

Additionally, PGAV calculated the national 250th anniversary celebration in 2026 will create federal funding capabilities for projects with about two-billion dollars allocated for state signature projects—and the museum, they said, would be a prime choice that a signature project (Jefferson City benefitted from the Bicentennial in 1976 by getting funding for restoration of Lohman’s Landing when it was declared a statewide bicentennial project).

In Summary, PGAV concluded that the Marshall-centered market would be enough to support a destination museum that would be an anchor for other tourism assets in the region (Arrow Rock, Sedalia and the State Fair, Santa Fe Trail sites, etc.  It would develop tourism synergies for local tourism in a three-county region (or broader), it would trigger multiple development opportunities near the Marshall Junction interchange and would create an economic development opportunity when combined with other attractions.  The study indicated the museum would draw 3.7 million visitors when phase one opens in 2026.

If that is true for Marshall, consider what it would mean for Jefferson City.

The population of Columbia, Jefferson City, and Fulton tops 182,000.  The combined populations of Marshall, Sedalia, Lexington, Boonville, and Moberly is about one-third that.

Seven state or private institutions of higher education within thirty miles of Jefferson City have more than 44,000 students. Another thirty miles, north and south, are Moberly Area Community College and the Missouri University of Science and Technology that add another 12,000 students. Sporting events and parental visits bring tens of thousands more people to those schools.

Add tto that, that Jefferson City is on the way to the Lake of the Ozarks. Lake Expo recently estimated 2.5-million people visit the Lake every year, 75% of them between May and September.

Increased tourism is only part of the benefit. The steamboat museum here could offer academic opportunities in technology, archaeology, textile preservation, museum management, American Western history, and other programs at or through those higher education institutions. The museum could benefit them and could gain benefits from them.

And think what a museum dedicated to grow in coming years or decades to capture the history of  the golden decades of Missouri River commerce and frontier development (1820-1880) could do.  The goal of the museum is to have artifacts—and maybe complete steamboats—excavated from past river channels, now farm fields from each of those decades.  Arabia museum President Dave Hawley has one of those boats located and test borings indicate the Malta might be complete enough to bring up as whole as possible. He would love to open a new museum with an 1841 steamboat in it.

Think about that.

Six years ago, we had the chance to raise about five million dollars to pay the costs of excavating the Malta and having it here, keeping the museum project highly visible while he rest of the project developed. Only one person was asking, “How do we do that?”  Nobody answered.

At the time, major fund-raising was focused on the Bicentennial Bridge or on the Missouri River Port.

I wrote at the time that I didn’t see hundreds of school buses with thousands of school children and their adult chaperones visiting a river port or taking in the view from Adrian’s Island as they would visit a steamboat museum.  To be clear, I think Adrian’s Island will be appreciated more in ten years than it was then or might be appreciated now. I can’t recall the last time I heard anything about the riverport but it’s not likely something I will take visiting relatives to see.

The Arabia museum is running out of time before it closes and the collection possibly moves to Pennsylvania, significantly, in November, 2026. Making the acquisition of that museum for our city as the official Capital City Bicentennial Project would be about a $50 million initial commitment. But it would transform our city and it would be an incredible driver to prison redevelopment as well as an incredible complement to the convention center/capitol avenue restoration and redevelopment effort.

Based on my conversations with Joe and Josephine Jeffcity, the steamboat museum would enhance chances for approval of a bond issue for the convention center, the library, and the historical museum, together or separately.

How can we make this step toward greatness happen?

Why should we do it?

Some of us are old enough to remember President Kennedy’s September 12, 1962 speech at Rice University when he set the goal of a manned moon landing within the decade:

“But why, some say, the Moon? Why choose this as our goal? And they may well ask, why climb the highest mountain? Why, 35 years ago, fly the Atlantic?…We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard; because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win.”

The steamboat museum can be, should be, Jefferson City’s moonshot.

At the risk of sinking into hyperbole, bringing this museum to Jefferson City could be the greatest reach for greatness in city history since civic leaders organized the construction of our first Missouri River bridge that helped blunt Sedalia’s effort to steal the capital in 1896.

How can we organize and measure the best of our energies and skills to make it happen?

How can we do it?

 

One Man’s Vision—3 

I am writing this series of entries—six of them in all at this point—not entirely comfortably because they are intimately personal thoughts, and suspecting that they might be perceived as self-aggrandizing and presumptuous, two characteristics I have not much appreciated in the people I covered in my long life as a political reporter.

Why am I indulging in this exercise that involves unflattering questions about whether our city is so self-satisfied as the capital city that it is reluctant or even resistant to striving to be not just good but great?

And who am I to do it?

Asking the second question is a partial answer to the first question.  Why sholdn’t we expect more from ourselves, FOR ourselves, and for those who come after us?

This city is where I have had a successful career, where I have raised my family, where I have participated in its activities, and where I long to return to regardless of what part of the world I have been in.

I have never sought or wanted to seek public office—-although I have been asked a few times if I was interested. I’m just one of forty-thousand or so citizens living on a quiet street, retired from daily job responsibilities but involved in a few church and civic activities.

I care passionately about my town and what it can be.

—-because I know what it has been and what it is.

That’s right. MY town.  I have a proprietary interest in it, as do you, or as should you. And I want it to be better.  I look around and I see ways that it could be and I wonder if it has the courage to reach for greatness.

I came to Jefferson City fifty-seven years ago to report news for a radio station that no longer has its studios here.  Fifty years ago this November, I joined with one of my best friends, Clyde Lear, to create The Missourinet.  At the time, I was the Secretary of the Jefferson City American Revolution Bicentennial Commission—-I count the successful 18-month effort to bring the American Freedom Train to the town named for the principal author of the Declaration of Independence as one of the best things I’ve ever done for my city.

I am now the president of the regional library board, a member of the Cole County America 250 Committee—a group formed to commemorate, in just two years, the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence—a life member of the Cole County Historical Society, and Past-President of the State Historical Society of Missouri.

My sixth book, all of which deal with some part of Missouri and/or Jefferson City history, is under consideration for publication with the University of Kansas Press.

It is a mistake to think that historians live in the past.  We don’t. We use the past as lessons to consider the future, and I have been thinking a lot recently about the future of my town, and yours.

A coincident combination of recent events and circumstances has triggered all of this:

—The decision to give up on the penitentiary as the site for a hotel and convention center.

—A “for sale” sign in the window of our former family pharmacy

—The defeat last August of the library’s proposed levy increase to bring our 1970s library system into the third decade of the 21st century, thanks to a secret committee that spread a giant lie to voters throughout the county.

—An ongoing effort to keep an irreplaceable historical resource from leaving the state

—A legislative refusal to fund a major restoration project filled with the lessons of history, and

—-And a citywide social problem

All of this has come together as we look the bicentennial of the City of Jefferson becoming the seat of state government on October 1, 1826, and the bicentennial of the first legislative session held here, beginning that November 20th.

So far I have heard of no plans to celebrate the city’s bicentennial as the state capital.  And I think that says something about the cultural character of my town.

I believe the celebration of the 200th anniversary of Jefferson City becoming the capital city of Missouri could change the way we see ourselves and the way others see us going forward.

Inspired by the story of Mayor Cecil Thomas, recounted in the first episode, I am offering this one man’s vision requires us to be better—no, to be GREATER—than we are.  I hope you have, or will have, your own vision.

I have formed the opinion through many years of observing my town that we have a split personality.

First, we seem to think that being the state capital is good enough.

That has never been true.

Being “good enough” is not good enough.  Great cities do not become great by being “good enough.”

I do not want to hear anyone tell me, “We can’t do this.”  Cities don’t become great because they think they cannot accomplish great things.  They become great by asking, “How can we get this done?”

Another impression I have is that we waste too much time comparing Jefferson City to Columbia.  If that is, indeed, the case, we need to get over it. And this is a good time to focus on what we can be, not what we are in comparison, or what they have that we don’t.

And third, I wonder if we are in some respects a cubicle city in which many of us go to work each day, spend the day in our own little cubicle—seldom standing to look around or to communicate with people in other cubicles—and then go to a larger cubicle that is our home. It is hard to think outside the box if you spend your life in a cubicle.

Our family drug store closed last fall. The historic soda fountain that was a landmark part of our city culture remains.  When the “for sale’ sign went into the window late last year, I began to worry about what would happen to that soda fountain under new ownership of the building—and how it needs to be saved and preserved somewhere if it is to be removed.

But Jefferson City has no place to put it, or to preserve other important artifacts from our county’s past that tell the story of how we have become what we are..

While all of this was happening, I was asked to speak at a fund-raising Tea sponsored by the ladies of the Cole County Historical Society. They wanted me to talk about the history of the society, which this year celebrates the 80th anniversary.

And the Cole County America 250 Commission was being formed about then to celebrate the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence.

After I saw the “for sale” sign in the Whaley’s window, I sent an email to the Historic City of Jefferson and to the Cole County Historical Society suggesting it is time for the two groups to get together and start planning a meaningful county history museum.

We do not have a museum that preserves the history of our other communities in Cole County.  There are no exhibits about Wardsville or Taos or Russellville or Osage City, Elston, or others including the little communities that winked out; no exhibits about The Foot or Munichberg.  Where can we go to learn about what an international city we are?  Where will we find the stories of Steve the Tailor, Arris the Pizza-maker, Helmut the Restauanteur, Yannis the Coffee Merchant, the pioneers of Temple Beth-el, the stories of those who serve us food from Thailand, China, Japan, Vietnam, India, Mexico—and Ireland.

Where can we learn of the migration of African-Americans, northern Missouri slaves, who crossed the river to come here to escape guerilla warfare, knowing they were safe in the first state capital to be occupied by the U. S. Army in wartime?  We need to show how Lincoln University came to be and how it has transformed through many decades into an institution of higher learning that has served this community far better than we seem to acknowledge. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people of all races in our area are walking around with degrees and advanced degrees from Lincoln.

And sports—where can we learn about Pete and Ray (Adkins and Hentges), and who WAS Dwight T. Reed?  Or where can we learn about our five (at least) major league baseball players and the five, so far, Jefferson Citians with careers in professional football? Or even the story of tennis star Althea Gibson.

We have two historical organizations, neither of which tells the story of our city and county as well as many local museums I have visited—in much smaller towns—have told about their cities and counties.

We need a city/county history museum built inside the old prison that meets modern museum standards for story-telling and is a true value to the people here and to visitors—a museum within a museum. I mentioned this at the most recent meeting of the America 250 Committee as a project that would be our legacy and committee members seemed attracted to the idea.

Developing such a museum would mean a new location for the Cole County Historical Society museum, which now occupies a 150-year old building with severe limits on space with costly upkeep costs that impede expansion.  The building would be desirable to associations or entities such as those that already occupy large amounts of building space close to the Capitol. Instead of the building being a financial drain, the sale of it would provide part of the financial foundation for a truly representative center of Cole County history.

That’s not the only important public institution that needs a new home that would fit well within the renovation of the old penitentiary and be a legacy from this generation to tomorrow’s  greater city.  We’ll explore that possibility next.

(We are sharing our vision for a greater city.  We are interested in what others hope for a better city for our grandchildren’s grandchildren.  Take some time and let us know in the response box below)

One Man’s Vision

I was reading a newspaper the other day and I came across this comment from the mayor:

“Jefferson City cannot obtain conventions of any size because of our lack of a suitable hall. Conventions and public gatherings are the finest sort of advertising for the city, and would naturally gravitate to Jefferson City, as the capital of the state if we had a hall. Then, too, we should have a community center such as all the progressive cities of the time are establishing which could house public charities, civic organizations and the like and at the same time furnish an auditorium space for local gatherings and celebrations. I think the time has come when the people of the city should take the lead in this behalf, and build the hall themselves. It will pay for itself in the volume of business and the expenditure of money by visitors brought here as a convention city.

“I would not advocate for these improvements, nor advocate for a bond issue if I did not believe the town could not afford it.  We are in excellent condition financially and our taxes are not high. Our credit is perfect and now is the time to extend ourselves to the point of providing these things which the prosperity and growth of the city demand.”

You probably missed seeing that article, because—

The Mayor was Cecil Thomas who had been elected by a large majority to his fifth two-year term and was speaking to the DAILY CAPITAL NEWS 99 years ago, on April 9, 1925.

Now, in 2024, an important step is being taken to finally realize the dream of Cecil Thomas. The abandonment of the prison as the site for a hotel and convention center is the first major step. The agreement with a developer is the continuation of a bold step finally being taken to materialize Mayor Thomas’s dream.

His announcement came just six months after a huge event was held to dedicate our new state capitol.  It came about eighteen months before the centennial of Jefferson City becoming the state capital city.

Today, we are about seven months away from the centennial of the Capitol dedication and we are about 18 months away from the BIcentennial of Jefferson City becoming the capital city.

A century has passed during which we have talked and talked and talked about a convention center.  Two centuries have passed since we became the capital city—-and it is time to examine the character of our city and the foundation you and I are laying for the people who will live here for the capitol’s bicentennial and the capital city’s TRIcentennial.

Will we just talk and talk and talk or will we start a spirit of boldness that will lift a city that sometimes seems too satisfied with the things as they are, with the image of being the Capital City being enough?

I propose we begin to confront that issue and that we opt for boldness and Mayor Thomas is an inspiring example.

Why use this long-forgotten mayor as our guide?

Cecil Thomas’s vision of a convention/community center died with him on October 3, 1928 when he suffered an apparent stroke or cerebral hemorrhage (the phrase at the time was “apoplexy) while on a business trip to Chicago.  He was just 56 years old and was nearing the end of his sixth term. Congressman William Nelson, who turned aside Thomas’s bid for Congress in 1924, said, “This city of beauty, progress, and achievement is a fitting monument to him who was so long its mayor.” Nelson represented Central Missouri for nine terms in Washington.

First National Bank President A. A. Speer, a former House Speaker and Vice-Chairman of the commission that built the capitol, called him, “Jefferson City’s foremost citizen” and suggested, “Jefferson City should build a monument and on that monument I would inscribe, ‘He lived for Jefferson City.’”

The DAILY CAPITAL News commented, “A history of his activities would read like an account of the growth and improvement of Jefferson City.”  Among the civic enterprises in which he had a hand:

—Construction of the street railway system.

—Construction of the High Street Viaduct

—Development of several additions including Forest Hills

—Promotion of the plan whereby the Missouri River bridge was taken over by a local company and is to be made a toll-free bridge.

—Promotion of the place which led to the construction of the new Missouri Hotel here.

—Active in building up the sewer system and all major projects for improvement of the city, including fire and police departments, and street improvements.

He was one of the founders and early presidents of the Jefferson City Commercial Club, now the Chamber of Comerce, a member of the Rotary Club and an active member of the Presbyterian Church.

One last project Mayor Thomas backed never materialized—a concrete tunnel on West McCarty Street “to improve and open up tht section of Mccarty in order tht Vista Place might be connected with a main artery of the community.”   At the time, the street was unimproved and was considered impassable.

The newspaper reported news of Thomas’ s death came “like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky” and “cast a pall and shadow of gloom and regred over the Capital City…He was so much a part of the integral life of the community, so closely connected with every activity looking toward a bigger and better city, and such a familiar figure pon the local streets that the full realization that he was no more dawned but slowly.

“The uptown business district streets were lined with flags, all at half-mast out of respects to the departed mayor—one of the best friends Jefferson City ever had or ever will have.”

The city was reported to be “at a standstill” during his funeral. “All businesses were closed, street cars were stationary, and the middle span of the bridge over the Missouri River…swung open for a brief period.”

The POST-TRIBUNE of August 21, 1929—about ten months after Thomas’s death—reported that returning visitors to Jefferson City were ‘surprised” by the city improvements.  “The automobile and the determination of the late Mayor Cecil W. Thomas, backed by a citizenry that favored street building were definite factors favoring this progress,” said the article. “Gone are the miles of muddy, dusty streets, which even with oiling, brought despair to women who attempted to rid their homes of the dust.”  It also cited the lighting of High Street and later other parts of town and the development of new subdivisions such as Wagner Place, Vista Place, Forest Hill, the Jordan Addition, the increased building-up of the Houchin Tract, and to the south the Morris subdivision, and of Washington Park as major improvements in the city.

The newspaper forecast the improvements had paved the way, literally and figuratively, for “still greaer growth in the next ten years.”

But it didn’t happen.  Mayor Thomas was dead.  Two months later, the stock market collapsed and the Great Depression set in.  World War II and post-war developments wiped out Thomas’s thoughts of continued growth toward greatness for his city.

Thomas’s widow, Celeste, was the granddaughter of Jefferson City’s first mayor, Thomas Lawson Price.  Their marriage in 1902 in the Price Mansion was the last social function in the historic house that stood where the Missouri Supreme Court building is today. It drew 500 friends and relatives.

When they returned from their honeymoon, they moved in with Celeste’s widowed mother at 428 East Main Street (now Capitol Avenue). Celeste outlived Cecil by 25 years. Their home, advertised for sale in the JEFFERSON CITY NEWS TRIBUNE after her death, is now the site of the Missouri Chamber of Commerce  and Industry state headquarters

Only John G. Christy, for whom the present city hall is named, served longer than Cecil W. Thomas, who died six months short of twelve years in the office.  Christy served three full four-year terms.

A city hall is named for Christy.  But there is nothing—yet—-that honors Cecil Thomas, who suggested a century ago that Jefferson City have the convention center it is now more seriously than ever finally considering building.

Cecil Thomas was a man who saw Jefferson City as a good city and who had a vision to make it a greater city.

The convention center was then and remains now a step toward that greater city and at last, Jefferson City leaders are re-kindling that dream from a century ago.

We offer a gentle hint about the convention center, however, whenever, and wherever it becomes real, at last, for our city.  Should A. A. Speer’s 1928comment about a monument to this forgotten mayor and his vision for our city be considered when naming the center?

Jefferson City doesn’t even have a street named for him.

What else can be done? We are going to explore those possibilities in subsequent entries.

What is YOUR vision for the City of Jefferson?   Let us know.

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(“One Man’s Vision” is the title of a speech I gave to the Noon Rotary Club a few days ago that began with the story of Cecil Thomas’s wish for a convention center and covers several other possibilities in addition to the proposed center.  If you have a group that would like to hear them, stick around for later articles here, or invite the author in for a talk.  Meals served at such meetings are not required but are always appreciated).

Notes From a Quiet Street (Spring break edition)

It’s been a quiet week in our modest abode on this increasingly quiet street.

Two houses across the street are unoccupied; their owners are in assisted living facilities. Some people are using the house next door that is owned by the family of a couple that both died in recent years.  A house on the corner two blocks away was vacant for several weeks before somebody bought it last week.

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It’s been especially quiet at the house where we get our mail.  Our twenty-year old plasma TV, the latest thing in technology when we bought it, conked out; it refused to come on the next morning after another woeful Missouri Tiger basketball loss. Perhaps it committed plasmacide.

I bought a new set but the crew to install it and haul off the old set couldn’t bring it to the manse for ten days.

It was kind of nice.  Nancy, who anguishes terribly as she figures out our taxes so our accountant can fill in some blanks, had no distracting things to take her away from her ongoing struggle with all of the papers, receipts, and retirement fund reports and other financial flotsam and jetsam that washing up on our financial beach.

I caught up on some research and did some writing in the quiet of the evening and worked on a speech about using our city’s bicentennial as the state capital to transform itself.  We even took some time out to READ.

The new set is a 65-incher, ten inches more than what we had but a full foot smaller than the biggest one I could have bought. But watching a 77-inch set in a living room the size of ours would be the equivalent of sitting in the second row at a real theater.

We were recalling what an adjustment it had been when we went from our 36-inch square-screen set to the 55-inch rectangular one and how it dominated the room.

Many of you who consume these words might recall your first TV set when TV itself was new.  Ours was a 13-inch Admiral on which we watched two stations and a few years later a third, but we needed an antenna rotor to move the antenna around to pick up each one.  And the national anthem was played with various military films in the background at 10:30, when the station signed off after the 10 o’clock news.

And the next morning we’d look at a test pattern before the Natioal Anthem was played with another military film in the background and the broadcast day would start again.

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This is spring break week for the legislature. It’s a chance for lawmakers to lick their wounds from the first half of the session that has been especially fractious in the Senate and pretty productive in the House despite the nagging ethical investigation into some actions or proposed actions by the Speaker.

Next week they come back for an intense sprint to the finish in mid-May except for a Monday-off after easter Sunday.

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The legislature spends the first four months getting bills lined up for passage in a frantic last week, although that system hasn’t worked because the Senate has gotten into annual mudfights between the casinos who want a state-harmful sweetheart tax deal on sports wagering and the people who want to legalize all of the thousands of questionably-legal video poker machines that have turned our convenience stores into quasi casinos, state law limiting casino locations to the contrary notwithstanding.

Jim Mathewson, the Sedalia Senator who led the Senate for eight years once explained that the legislature waits for the last minute to pass most of its bills for the same reason that many people wait until the last day before they file their income tax.

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An important anniversary comes up in Jefferson City in October.  It will be 100 years since formal dedication ceremonies were held for the then-new Capitol.  Five former governors delivered remarks.

There are now seven living former governors: Bond, Ashcroft, Wilson, Holden, Blunt, Nixon, and Greitens.  That might tie a record.  If these seven hold out for another ten months or so they will be joined by an eighth.

Speaking of the potential eighth:  I’ve ordered his book. He was interviewed at length by the Missourinet’s Alisa Nelson. It’s interesting and it’s on the Missourinet webpage. You just have to do a search.

I need to catch him when he’s gotten loose in the wild one of these days and have him sign it after it arrives in the mail.

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On October 1, 2026, Jefferson City will observe the bicentennial of the move of state government from its temporary home in St. Charles.  November 20 will mark the 200th anniversary of the first legislative session held in the new capital city.

We haven’t heard of any plans being made to celebrate those events but one idea we’ve had is a concert of Missouri music.  If you have some suggestions for songs about Missouri or by Missouri composers, let us know.  St. Louis Blues and Goin’ to Kansas City and the Maple Leaf Rag spring easily to mind.

One that I know must be included is Neal E. Boyd’s “Missouri Anthem.”

Neal E. Boyd and Brandon K. Guttenfelder – MISSOURI ANTHEM – YouTubea

Or a beautiful orchestral version:

Neal E. Boyd – MISSOURI ANTHEM Orchestral 2013 – YouTube

Neal E. Boyd died more than five years ago and it’s a great shame that The Missouri Anthem that he performed so magnificently is not more widely honored.  He rose from a background of poverty in southeast Missouri to achieve brief national fame as the winner of the third year of the America’s Got Talent TV show.  He died at the age of 42 from various ailments.

The song should replace the dirge adopted in 1949 by the legislature as our state song. The bicentennial of Missouri’s permanent state capital city would be an appropriate time to do that.

 

Languages

I am proud to say that I passed three out of four semesters of college French courses.

That means I am, or once was, somewhat fluent in TWO more languages than our most recent former president uses.

The latest nonsense to cascade in a disorderly tumble from his lips adds an additional damnation to immigrants who, he has claimed, “are coming from jails, and they’re coming from prisons, and they’re coming from mental institutions, and they’re coming from insane asylums, and they’re terrorists.”

Of course, he never offers any proof of such things.  Now, during that same visit to an area near Eagle Pass, Texas on the southern border, he is piling on:

“Nobody can explain to me how allowing millions of people from places unknown, from countries unknown, who don’t speak languages. We have languages coming into our country. We have nobody that even speaks those languages. They’re truly foreign languages. Nobody speaks them, and they’re pouring into our country, and they’re bringing with them tremendous problems, including medical problems, as you know.”  He has asserted in a previous rant that when one migrant showed u, “We don’t even have one translator who could understand this language.”

Various media outlets, including the once-chummy FOX News Channel,  jumped all over that disjointed estrangement from reality, one of the fact-checkers being CNN’s Daniel Dale who found the comment about a translator, “nonsense,” and said it had been “conjured out of thin air.”

The former president says people such as Dale shouldn’t taken him so seriously. He told Sean Hannity recently, “You take a look at when I use Barack Hussein Obama and I interject him into where it’s supposed to be Biden, and I do it purposely for comedic reasons and for sarcasm.”

Whew!   That’s a relief.  I hope all of his MAGA friends realize he’s just pulling their legs and don’t bother repeating his fun-loving remarks as serious messages.

About those languages that nobody speaks:

Analyst Philip Bump with The Washington Post wrote last week that the former president’s remarks were “remarkable” and proved again that “there is no limit on the fearmongering Donald Trump will deploy when it comes to the U.S.-Mexican border.”

Bump points out that there’s a CIA database that includes the spoken languages of more than 220 places.  Here’s an interesting statistic he cites from that database:  Canada, which has two official languages (English and French) “has a higher percentage of English speakers than the United States has of people who speak only the language.”  He says only about seven percent of our population speaks something other than English or Spanish.

Bu contrast, about 30% of Canadians speak French. About 16% of Canadians use both languages.  Four percent speak Chinese. Three percent speak Spanish with an equal amount speaking Punjabi. Arabic, Tagalog, and Italian are spoken by two percent each.

The truth, he says, is that “fewer people speak less frequently-spoken languages. Therefore, those people are less likely to arrive at the U.S.-Mexican border. If they did so, though, there seem to be good odds that someone within the federal government (much less the broader population would be able to understand what they’re saying.”

On top of that, the State Department has translators in some 140 languages or combinations of languages. “The CIA, meanwhile, has an incentive program to encourage people who speak particular languages to work with them. If you speak Baluchi (spoken in Oman) or Ewe (Togo and Ghana) or Lingala (both Democratic Republic of Congo and Republic of Congo), ping your local CIA recruiter. There’s cash in it for you.”

As far as immigrants being criminals or more likely to commit crimes than native-born Americans—as the ex-President claimed in his Texas speech, Terry Collins wrote this week in USA Today that research indicates immigrants “actually commit fewer crimes than people born in the U. S.”

Trump and his supporters are quick to capitalize on a serious crime committed by an undocumented immigrant, such as the high-profile murder in Georgia.

But Collins points to the work of immigration policy analyst Alex Nowrasteh with the Cato Institute, a self-described “Libertarian think tank,” who says, ‘The findings show pretty consistently undocumented and illegal immigrants have a lower conviction rate and are less likely to be convicted of homicide and other crimes overall compared to native-born Americans in Texas.”

“They’re coming from jails and they’re coming from prisons and they’re coming from mental institutions and they’re coming from insane asylums and they’re terrorists,” Trump said in Eagle Pass.

He clearly has never heard of Nowrasteh, whose studies of undocumented immigrants from 2012-2022 show undocumented immigrants have a homicide rate fourteen percent under that of native-born citizens and a 41% lower total conviction rate. Legal immigrants have a 62% lower homicide rate

He told Collins, “I don’t think that Trump’s statements accurately convey the reality of immigration.”

The problem with all of this is that a lot of Americans are buying what the ex-president is selling.  The Pew Research Center, in a survey a few weeks ago, found that 57% of Americans think immigration leads to more crime.

Here’s some more research reported by Collins:

Stanford University Economics Professor Ran Abramitzky’s research shows the rates of crimes committed by immigrants in this country have been lower than those committed by native-born Americans. Incarceration rates have been dropping for the last six decades.  Nowrasteh says there’s a powerful reason for that: “Deportation is a hefty penalty, as being removed and sent back to their home country where they have fewer job and quality of life opportunities is enough to scare most immigrants.”

As far as criminals crossing the border in droves—-

The Border Patrol checks for criminal backgrounds before releasing them to enter this country, pending a hearing. The Patrol arrested more than 15,000 people with criminal records at the border last year, three-thousand more than in ’22.  So far this year, the number is more than 5,600.

Responsible people who know what they are talking about know that our border is not a sieve that leaks insane criminals who have been released from prisons throughout the world to come here and “poison” our country. It is not to our credit that we would listen to an irresponsible monolingual figure who hopes we drink HIS poison instead.

A Wagnerian, Arthurian Campaign 

Watched the State of the Union address last week.  Have watched several events featuring the other guy lately.

The day after the State of the Union address, while others were analyzing the speech, I found myself looking at the battle ahead and Wagnerian music began to play in my mind.

And images.

Listen as you read:

(5) Wagner Götterdämmerung – Siegfried’s death and Funeral march Klaus Tennstedt London Philharmonic – YouTube

A chill late evening on an ancient battlefield, smoke and fog intermingling to turn the setting sun a deep orange in the aftermath of an epic life-and-death confrontation between two legendary opponents.. Think of Arthur and Mordred from medieval England.

The State of the Union address was one of them drawing the sword that is a traditional symbol of power, of justice, of the best interests of the people and throwing away the scabbard to enter the final struggle with one whom he sees as a brooding, vengeful foe seeking to destroy everything good and honorable; a rival of equally waning strength, knowing this is his last, desperate chance to prevail.

In Arthurian legend, Arthur and, Mordred, variously referred to in the tellings of the tale as Arthur’s traitorous nephew or the traitorous son of Arthur’s nephew Gawain, or Arthur’s bastard son born of Arthur’s relationship with his half-sister (and there are other descriptions). They are two of the few survivors of the Battle of Camlann. Arthur, seeking to regain the throne Mordred had seized in his absence, impales Mordred on a spear.  But Mordred uses the last of his waning energy to pull himself along the spear and strikes Arthur with a mortal blow to the head.

Arthur, knowing his end is near, commands Bedivere to throw the great sword, Excalibur, into a nearby lake, which Bedivere finally does, reluctantly. He sees a hand part the waters, catch the sword, shake it three times, and pull it beneath the quiet waters of the pool.

(The climactic last scene, accompanied by Wagner’s “Death and Funeral” music from Gotterdammerung, was used in the concluding scenes of the 1981 movie “Excalibur,” considered one of the greatest Arthur legend films ever made. In the movie, Percival rather than Bedivere throws the sword.

(5) Excalibur – Finale – YouTube)

Arthur’s body is buried later at Glastonbury. His former ally, Launcelot, returned from France, learned that Guenevere had become a nun, went to Glastonbury to hear the story of Arthur’s final battle, and became a monk.

Six years later, after Guenevere had died, he and other surviving Knights of the Round Table went to Almesbury to take her remains to Glastonbury to be interred next to Arthur.

So it is told in one of the many versions of the Arthur legend.

Will this battle in future decades be seen as Arthurian as the English legend describes the final battle between Arthur and Mordred, between good and evil? Will, in the end, we be left with the thought neither survived (politically) but the kingdom endured?

(screen shots are from the motion picture Excalibur, produced by Orion Pictures)

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(Perhaps these thoughts have some distant genetic origin.  Glastonbury is about ten miles from the ancient lead-mining community of Priddy, England. The patron saint of Glastonbury is Joseph of Arimathea, perhaps an uncle of Jesus, and a tin trader who took a young Jesus with him during Jesus’ “lost years” when Joseph was involved in the tin trade with pre-Roman England. Local legend in Priddy has it that a young Jesus, traveling with Joseph, also visited Priddy.

The Gospels, of course, identify Joseph of Arimathea as the person who got permission to remove Jesus’s body form the cross and to place it in his personal tomb.)

The County, The Man  

One of our counties is named for a man who was the nation’s fifth Chief Justice of the United States.  Before that, he was the 12th man to be Secretary of the Treasury. Before that, he was the 11th United States Attorney General.

We pronounce the name of the county “Tainey.”  But his name was really pronounced “Tawney.”   Roger Brooke Taney represents the dual nature of history and the fame and the infamy that comes from it, a duality that we cannot escape and from which we must not hide.

This man who is best remembered for delivering a historic anti-freedom decision in 1857 was part of the court that ruled on a historic pro-freedom case in 1841.

The Amistad case involved Africans who broke free and seized their ship, eventually landing at Long Island.  The owners of the ship sued for recovery of their property—the ship and its cargo. Former President John Quincy Adams argued for the slaves and the court ruled 6-1 with Taney in the majority that the slaves belonged to no one and were therefore free because, “in no sense could they possibly intend to import themselves here, as slaves, or for sale as slaves.”

The point of slave law ruled upon by the Taney court sixteen years later was entirely different. Taney is best remembered for delivering the decision that denied freedom to Missouri slave Dred Scott.

Missouri courts had handled hundreds of “freedom suits” filed by slaves who claimed they had gained their freedom because their owners had taken them to free states before coming to slaveholding Missouri. Some 300 of those cases were filed in St. Louis where a monument now stands honoring those slaves. Many of the suits succeeded but they ended with the Scott case.

The case was heard twice by the U. S. Supreme Court, a second hearing held because, as Taney wrote in the final decision, “differences of opinion were found to exist among the members of the court; and as the questions in controversy are of the highest importance…it was deemed advisable to continue the case, and direct a re-argument on some of the points, in order that we might have an opportunity of giving to the whole subject a more deliberate consideration.”

You can read the entire decision at Dred Scott v. Sandford Full Text – Text of the Case – Owl Eyes

The court voted 7-2 that Scott, as a slave, had no constitutional right to sue for his freedom. It is a long, long decision written by Taney and announced on March 6, 1857.

“The question is simply this: Can a negro, whose ancestors were imported into this country, and sold as slaves, become a member of the political community formed and brought into existence by the Constitution of the United States, and as such become entitled to all the rights, and privileges, and immunities, guarantied by that instrument to the citizen? One of which rights is the privilege of suing in a court of the United States in the cases specified in the Constitution,” Taney wrote the long opinion that includes:

The words ‘people of the United States’ and ‘citizens’ are synonymous terms, and mean the same thing..,The question before us is, whether the class of persons described in the plea in abatement compose a portion of this people, and are constituent members of this sovereignty? We think they are not, and that they are not included, and were not intended to be included, under the word ‘citizens’ in the Constitution, and can therefore claim none of the rights and privileges which that instrument provides for and secures to citizens of the United States. On the contrary, they were at that time considered as a subordinate and inferior class of beings, who had been subjugated by the dominant race, and, whether emancipated or not, yet remained subject to their authority, and had no rights or privileges but such as those who held the power and the Government might choose to grant them.”

…The legislation of the States therefore shows, in a manner not to be mistaken, the inferior and subject condition of that race at the time the Constitution was adopted, and long afterwards, throughout the thirteen States by which that instrument was framed; and it is hardly consistent with the respect due to these States, to suppose that they regarded at that time, as fellow-citizens and members of the sovereignty, a class of beings whom they had thus stigmatized; whom, as we are bound, out of respect to the State sovereignties, to assume they had deemed it just and necessary thus to stigmatize, and upon whom they had impressed such deep and enduring marks of inferiority and degradation; or, that when they met in convention to form the Constitution, they looked upon them as a portion of their constituents, or designed to include them in the provisions so carefully inserted for the security and protection of the liberties and rights of their citizens…

 Upon the whole, therefore, it is the judgment of this court, that it appears by the record before us that the plaintiff in error is not a citizen of Missouri, in the sense in which that word is used in the Constitution; and that the Circuit Court of the United States, for that reason, had no jurisdiction in the case, and could give no judgment in it. Its judgment for the defendant must, consequently, be reversed, and a mandate issued, directing the suit to be dismissed for want of jurisdiction.

The opinion fueled fears of those who felt the slave economy eventually would collapse that the opposite would happen if the institution were to spread into new territories to the west. The 1821 Missouri Compromise forbade that but Taney’s ruling threw out that compromise:

“Every citizen has a right to take with him into the Territory any article of property which the Constitution of the United States recognises as property.”

It has been called the worst Supreme Court ruling in our history and a direct contributor to the Civil War.

Illinois Senator Stephen A. Douglas, who had eyes on a presidential run in 1860, told a crowd at the Illinois Capitol that those who disagreed with the ruling were “enemies of the constitution. One of his listeners was Springfield lawyer Abraham Lincoln, who had his eyes on Douglas’ seat in the Senate. One of Lincoln’s newest biographers, Steve Inskeep, wrote that Lincoln responded two weeks later that Douglas “dreads the slightest restraints on the spread of slavery” and asserted that the decision did not “establish a settled doctrine for the country.” Inskeep says Lincoln felt the Scott case was more than a bad ruling; “It was part of a conspiracy to spread slavery everywhere.”

The next June, Lincoln told another meeting in the statehouse, the conflict over slavery had not been resolved.

“A house divided against itself, cannot stand. I believe this government cannot endure permanently half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved – I do not expect the house to fall – but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing or all the other. Either the opponents of slavery will arrest the further spread of it, and place it where the public mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the course of ultimate extinction; or its advocates will push it forward, till it shall become lawful in all the States, old as well as new – North as well as South.”

The Lincoln-Douglas debates that came afterward elevated Lincoln to the national spotlight and in 1860 into the presidency.

Lincoln’s inauguration on March 4, 1861, just two days short of the fourth anniversary of the Scott case, showed how rapidly the decision had changed the nation. It began with a dramatic moment when the tall, young abolitionist president-elect, in his first public appearance with a beard, filed in “arm in arm” with the Chief Justice who would swear him in.  Roger Taney, days short of his 84th birthday, “looked very agitated and his hands shook very perceptively with emotion,” as one reporter put it, as Lincoln placed his large hand on the Bible and took an oath to “preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.

We do not know if the walk “arm in arm” or Taney’s shaking hands were matters of emotion or of the infirmities of age.  He died a little more than three years later, having witnessed the imposition of the Emancipation Proclamation that declared slaves in southern states were free, and, six months before his death, the passage by the United States Senate of what would become the Thirteenth Amendment, abolishing slavery and involuntary servitude.

On March 6, 2017, the sixtieth anniversary of the decision, descendants of the Taneys and the Scotts met at the Maryland State Capitol, where a statue of Taney stood, for a ceremony of reconciliation. Charlie Taney, great-great-great grand nephew of the judge, acknowledged, “I’m sure he wouldn’t be happy with this,”  but continued, “There’s totally something about seeing the Scotts and the Taneys side by side working together on reconciliation that strikes a real chord in people.”

Another descendant, Kate Taney Billingsley, said, there had been mixed feelings in the family about Taney: “A lot of people, it was like, they were proud of the name because it was a Chief Justice of the Supreme Court for other rulings he had made that was not the Dred Scott decision, and yet everybody agreed that it was a complete smear on our name and it was a terrible, terrible decision.”

On the other side was Lynn Jackson, the great-great-granddaughter of Dred Scott, who runs the Dred Scott Foundation of St. Louis, who hoped the event could foster something bigger. “It’s an open door for us to say if the Scotts and the Taneys can reconcile, can’t you?” she asked. “If you look at relationships in our nation, these are supposed to be the two who are really supposed to hate each other. But it’s not about hatred, it’s about understanding, and then relationship building and trust.”

There had been discussions about removing Taney’s statue from the Maryland Capitol grounds at the time but the families opposed it.  They suggested it would be more appropriate to put up a statue of Scott and one of Frederick Douglass, who escaped from slavery in Maryland and became a national abolitionist leader.

It wasn’t to be.  The state removed Taney’s statue in 2017, two days after Baltimore Mayor Catherine Pugh ordered removal of a replica of the statue from city property.

In December of 2022, the United States House of Representatives completed the process of ordering the removal of a bust of Taney from the old House Chamber that was used by the Supreme Court until its own building was constructed.  Maryland Congressman Stenny Hoyer, who noted that every day he served in a chamber that had been built by slaves, said, “While we cannot remove the stones and bricks that were placed here in bondage, we can ensure that the moveable pieces of art we display here celebrate freedom, not slavery, not sedition, not segregation….”His narrow-minded originalist philosophy failed to acknowledge America’s capacity for moral growth and for progress. Indeed, the genius of our Constitution is that it did have moral growth, it did have expanded vision, it did have greater wisdom. Taney’s ruling denied Black Americans citizenship, upheld slavery, and contributed, frankly, to the outbreak of the Civil War.”

The bust was removed on February 9, 2023 and replaced by a bust of Thurgood Marshall, a civil rights attorney who played a key role in the 1954 Supreme Court ruling that ended segregated schools in America, and later the first black member of the U. S. Supreme Court.

Taney County, Missouri was carved out of Wayne County by the state legislature in 1835, the year that Andrew Jackson appointed Taney to succeed Chief Justice John Marshall, who had died earlier that year.  Taney’s nomination was confirmed in 1836, making him the first Catholic to serve on the court. Taney County was formally recognized as an organized county in 1837, almost twenty years before the ruling that became the deciding “smear” on his record and on his descendants’ name.

In advocating for the removal of the Taney bust from the national capital, Congressman Stenny Hoyer noted the duality of history when he said, “We ought to know who Roger Brooke Taney was, a man who was greatly admired in his time in the state of Maryland. But he was wrong. Over 3 million people visit our Capitol each year. The people we choose to honor in our halls signal to those visitors which principles we cherish as a nation.”

There are no known statues of Taney in Taney County and there has been no overt move to change the name of the county. The name honors the distinguished public servant that he was, not the jurist who wrote one opinion that overshadows everything else he wrote or was.

Taney, the man, is a reminder of something else said by the man he swore in as President of the United States when he delivered his annual message to Congress late in 1862:

“The dogmas of the quiet past, are inadequate to the stormy present. The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise — with the occasion. As our case is new, so we must think anew, and act anew. We must disenthrall ourselves, and then we shall save our country.

Fellow-citizens, we cannot escape history. We of this Congress and this administration, will be remembered in spite of ourselves. No personal significance, or insignificance, can spare one or another of us. The fiery trial through which we pass, will light us down, in honor or dishonor, to the latest generation.”

Sometimes words cross all barriers of time. Taney’s words. Lincoln’s words. Words of yesterday become words of today. It is up to us to decide what to do with them.

(Photo credits: National Judicial College, Library of Congress)

 

BONUS:  SCOTUS SAYS TRUMP CAN STAY; MISSOURI PRECEDENT

We interrupt today’s regular entry to bring you this perspective on the big news of the morning, so far:

The United States Supreme Court today unanimously ruled that Colorado cannot keep Donald Trump off its presidential primary ballot. All nine judges wrote separate opinions explaining why states cannot determine who will run in national elections based on Section three of the Fourteenth Amendment, which Colorado and some other states had cited to kick Trump off the ballot for taking part in an insurrection.

The Supreme Court says the authority to enforce that section that bars those involved in insurrections from holding office rests with Congress, not the states.

Would Congress do that?  Some of those disappointed in today’s ruling say a Congress that works the way a Congress is supposed to work would be far more likely to do it than today’s dysfunctional bunch.

Today’s ruling has a Missouri precedent, sort of.

In the early 1990s, when Missouri and 22 other states made the mistake of enacting term limits on members of their legislatures, an effort also was made to limit the amount of time members of Congress could serve. The Arkansas Supreme Court threw out the law in that state and U. S. Term Limits took the case to the Supremes, where justices voted 5-4 in 1995 that the requirements for service in the United States House and the United States Senate are established in the U. S. Constitution which trumps state laws or state constitutions.