Man – Page 4

Old Woman Meteorite

The Old Woman, California, IIAB iron meteorite
Howard PLOTKIN, Roy S. CLARKE, JR., Timothy J. Mc COY,
and Catherine M. CORRIGAN
Department of Mineral Sciences, National Museum of Natural History, Smithsonian Institution, P.O. Box 37012,
Washington, DC 20013-7012, USA

Summary

PAGE 1

DISCOVERY OF THE METEORITE

Two prospectors found a large dark-colored rock in the Old Woman Mountains in March 1976. They were sure it was a meteorite because they had seen pictures of them in school and museums.

The two prospectors and Jack Harwood tried to figure out what to do with their ”Lucky Nugget” find but lacked the funds needed to hire a helicopter.

They sent a small chip to the Griffith Observatory, but the curator did not detect nickel and concluded that the specimen was not meteoritic.

PAGE 2

Friberg sent a letter to the Smithsonian asking for a value scale for a meteorite, and on August 27, they requested a fragment be sent to them for study. On September 10, they received a reply saying that they would like to conduct an on-site investigation.

TRIP TO THE OLD WOMAN MOUNTAINS

Clarke arranged with Friberg to investigate the meteorite near Twentynine Palms, California. He visited the administrative office of the nearby Joshua Tree National Monument to inform officials of his visit and get their permission to go into the field.

PAGE 3

Clarke, Friberg, and Harwood traveled to the meteorite site in a 1949 four-wheel drive Power Wagon and hiked up the mountain to reach the meteorite. Clarke took several measurements and photographs, and the group left the meteorite at 5:40.

Clarke suspected the meteorite was on federal land and visited the Riverside BLM office on September 23 and 24. He suggested returning to the site with Friberg and BLM officials to determine its location.

Clarke went to the BLM office early in the morning and was picked up by a helicopter. They flew to the agreed-upon rendezvous point but found no one there and then flew to the Old Woman Mountains, where Clarke led them to the meteorite.

On October 1, Gerald Hillier wrote to Friberg to inform him that the meteorite was located on national resource lands and was, therefore, subject to the jurisdiction of the Federal Government. Friberg went to see a lawyer the same day Clarke wrote this letter.

THE QUESTION OF THE METEORITE’S OWNERSHIP

The ownership of meteorites has often been controversial, with the Iowa Supreme Court upholding the landowner Goddard over the finder Winchell and the Oregon Supreme Court upholding the landowner Oregon Iron Company over the finder Hughes.

The finders of a meteorite filed a placer mining claim on the land where it was situated. Still, they were notified by the District Manager of the Riverside BLM that meteorites are not locatable since they do not constitute a valuable mineral deposit.

PAGE 4

A Smithsonian Curator was told that a meteorite found by Japanese-Americans interned on federal lands in the Utah desert was not subject to mining laws and would be transferred to the Smithsonian Institution under the Antiquities Act.

The Smithsonian was granted ownership of the meteorite under the powers of the Antiquities Act, which allowed scientific and educational institutions to gather objects of historic or scientific interest on federal lands.

The Antiquities Act granted the three secretaries jurisdiction over objects of historic or scientific interest. It stipulated that all permits granted by the secretaries ”shall be referred to the Smithsonian Institution for recommendation”. The Old Woman meteorite fell under this jurisdiction.

PAGE 5

The Smithsonian wanted to transfer the Old Woman meteorite to the National Meteorite Collection. Still, the decision was under heavy fire from lawyers representing the finders and John Wasson, a professor of geochemistry and chemistry at the University of California, Los Angeles.

In mid-November, Wasson wrote Clarke and the two California senators, requesting their help keeping the meteorite in southern California. Wasson pointed out that Californians had recently ”lost” the Goose Lake meteorite to the Smithsonian and that the main question was political rather than legal.

On December 21, the Director of Administrative Services granted Secretary Ripley’s request to recover the Old Woman Mountains meteorite and transfer it to the Smithsonian Institution.

The Smithsonian wanted to transport a meteorite from the mountainside to Washington by helicopter. Still, the Secretary of Defense denied their request, saying they did not utilize military transport when commercial carriers were available.

Barry Goldwater and Secretary Ripley wrote to the new Secretary of Defense, Harold Brown, requesting military assistance to remove a meteorite from a mountain. The Marines were authorized to remove the meteorite on June 17.

REMOVAL OF THE METEORITE FROM THE MOUNTAIN

Clarke arrived back in California on June 13, 1977, spent the next few days at the Riverside BLM office, and moved to Needles the next day to observe the lift.

PAGE 6

A Marine helicopter support team moved a meteorite wedged between two boulders, and a Marine Heavy Helicopter Squadron 363 dropped a 25 m cable down to the Marines, who attached it to the meteorite and gently set it down on a desert road 19 km away.

More than 40 representatives of local and national news media, press members, Marines, the meteorite’s three finders, and Wasson were present at the event, and opposing views about the meteorite’s ownership and disposition were strongly voiced.

The Old Woman meteorite was taken off the truck and weighed; it was the second-largest meteorite ever found in the United States. Its exposed upper surface was pitted, reminiscent of regmaglypts, and the bottom surface exhibited a thin, irregular coating of caliche.

PAGE 7

THE DISPUTE MOVES TO THE COURTS

Removing the meteorite from the Old Woman Mountains only intensified the battle over it. The Smithsonian acquired the meteorite on June 24 while still displayed in California.

The Old Woman meteorite had become a cause celebre and was displayed for an additional week at the BLM Riverside office afterwards, it was moved to the San Bernardino County Museum and the Los Angeles County Museum of Natural History.

The two discoverers took the matter to court, arguing they owned the meteorite based on their mining claim. The judge denied the temporary restraining order.

The Smithsonian was under increasing pressure to keep the meteorite in California. The Los Angeles County Museum of Natural History requested that the Smithsonian cede all presumed titles to the meteorite to their museum.

PAGE 8

Pressure was also brought to bear upon Cecil Andrus, the Secretary of the Department of the Interior, to allow the Meteorite to go on permanent display in the Los Angeles County Museum of Natural History.

The California Congressional Delegation urged Ripley to speed up arrangements for the meteorite’s permanent display in California. Ripley assured them that a portion of the meteorite would be sent to an appropriate museum in California.

Ripley clarified the Smithsonian’s position, pointing out the museum’s long involvement with meteorites and its extensive usage by the national and international scientific community. He assured Wasson that a replica of the meteorite would be sent to an appropriate California museum.

The San Bernardino County Museum and the State of California filed a lawsuit on July 20, 1977, against the BLM, the Department of the Interior, Secretary Ripley, et al., seeking a preliminary injunction against removing the meteorite from California.

When the matter was before the court, the San Bernardino County Museum requested that the Old Woman meteorite remain in California with an appropriate museum or scientific institution.

The Smithsonian received welcome news from the Department of Justice attorney representing the defendants in the Old Woman Mountains meteorite lawsuit.

Combined with strong protests from California, Judge Whelan’s ruling quickly prompted Interior Secretary Andrus to grant custody of the Old Woman Meteorite to the state where it was found, turning down a bid by his agency to haul it back to Washington for display.

PAGE 9

Andrus’s decision served as a game-changer because it allowed the Smithsonian to transfer the right and title to the meteorite to the museum and allowed the museum to offer to ship the main mass of the meteorite to a California museum after its scientific study.

In the weeks that followed, the court-ordered settlement discussions took place. The Smithsonian agreed to a consent decree with the State of California that the United States would negotiate for long-term display of the Old Woman meteorite there.

The Department of the Interior supported the Smithsonian’s plan to bring the meteorite to Washington for scientific analysis, but asked that its display and scientific value not be diminished.

Attorneys from the three parties met again on October 17, and agreed to a five-member committee that would make the final decision on what cutting, if any, would be done on the meteorite.

The California attorneys called for the establishment of a Joint Powers Agreement, under which a three-member committee would investigate the possibility of displaying the meteorite in a museum in California.

Judge Whelan denied the State of California’s and San Bernardino County Museum’s motions for preliminary injunction against removal of a meteorite from California and title to it, and vacated and set aside the temporary restraining order to keep the meteorite in California.

The Smithsonian met with members of Congress’s staff in January and February of 1978 to explain their plan to send a meteorite from California to Washington for study. The meteorite arrived at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History on March 8, 1978.

PAGE 10

The Smithsonian asked Senator Cranston’s staff to help select a museum for the meteorite, and the staff recommended the Los Angeles County Museum of Natural History.

Two other problems soon arose, the San Bernardino County Museum appealed Judge Whelan’s ruling, and John Wasson again stepped forward, claiming that the Smithsonian intended to remove a slice of the meteorite for its study, and that this would seriously detract from the exhibit value of the main mass.

Wasson urged that letters be written to Secretaries Andrus and Ripley requesting that no cutting of the meteorite be carried out until the Smithsonian submitted detailed plans, prepared a position paper comparing the scientific and exhibit-related pros and cons of its proposed plan, and invited comments from several curators and iron meteorite researchers.

DEBATE OVER THE CUTTING OF THE METEORITE

Clarke sent a letter to 19 individuals in September 1978 asking their views on how the Old Woman meteorite should be studied.

Wasson responded to Clarke’s letter by asking the recipients to provide him with a copy of their response to confirm that the amount to be removed seems reasonable from the viewpoint of Californians.

Responses to Clarke’s letter were generally favorable to the Smithsonian’s position, with Vagn Buchwald pointing out that Old Woman appeared to be transitional between group IIA and IIB meteorites and that a large cut and polished surface of Old Woman would provide unique data.

PAGE 11

The injunction against cutting the meteorite was denied in 1978 and again in 1979, opening the way for its scientific study.

Cutting began a week later, on May 29, and the first piece was removed on June 5. It was ground, polished, and etched, and Clarke commented that a major cut was essential.

PAGE 12

THE METEORITE’S RETURN TO CALIFORNIA

Although the injunctions against cutting the meteorite were still before the court, the Smithsonian tried to finalize loan arrangements with the Los Angeles County Museum of Natural History. Still, the acting director expressed his ”significant objection” to the Smithsonian’s plan to cut the meteorite.

In January 1980, the San Bernardino County Museum and the State of California claimed ownership of the Old Woman meteorite. Still, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit dismissed their claims.

METALLOGRAPHIC STRUCTURE OF THE OLD WOMAN METEORITE

Old Woman is a highly unusual iron meteorite with two structural types, and the metallographic study of the large slice provides invaluable insights into its formation.

The 427.3 kg butt end was divided into a 207 kg butt end and a 174 kg research slice. The research slice was subdivided, producing a thinner complete slice and a partial slice again extensively subsampled. The Old Woman meteorite is a polycrystalline mass with a strongly bimodal distribution. Seven large grains comprise 85% of the surface area and comprise the hexahedral structure within the meteorite.

PAGE 14

Within the larger grains of kamacite, the only Fe,Ni metallic phase identified, are schreibersite chains that can reach several cm in length. These schreibersites often exhibit embayments or skeletal morphologies, and are similar to the ungrouped, low-Ni iron Zacatecas (1792) (Buchwald 1975). Throughout the large kamacite regions, small schreibersites are common. Carbide and graphite are extremely rare, although we did find one schreibersite inclusion rimmed by graphite and Fe metal.

The entire primary structure is extensive shock modification, including shock melting of troilite-daubreelite-schreibersite inclusions, Neumann banding, and formation of subgrain boundaries within kamacite. A heat-altered zone up to several mm in thickness was observed on sections of the meteorites.

Old Woman is a low-Ni, low-P member of group IIAB, with a bulk Ni concentration of 5.86 wt% (5.59 at%), 0.30 wt% P (0.56 at%), and 0.49 wt% Co. Trace element analyses reveal a composition intermediate in the range of IIAB irons.

PAGE 15

The Widmanstatten structure in iron meteorites was reviewed by Yang and Goldstein (2005), who proposed three mechanisms for their formation. Old Woman is on the boundary between massive transformation and mechanism V and only slightly below the field for mechanism III in P.

Old Woman is not unprecedented in having a bimodal structure, with hexahedral and coarsest octahedral structures evolving in the same mass. This structure is thought to be due to nucleation of austenite crystals on sulfide inclusions.

Old Woman could have evolved via the c fi a2 + c fi a + c (mechanism V) or c fi (a + c) fi a + c +ph (mechanism III) pathways into its present polycrystalline state.

Old Woman is a hexahedral ferromagnetic iron with abundant schreibersite. It may have formed through the c fi (a + c) fi a + c +ph fi a + ph pathway, which was described by Yang and Goldstein (2005).

PAGE 17

Old Woman’s diverse structure may be due to several mechanisms within a single mass, suggesting that further study may yield additional insights.

CONCLUSIONS

Old Woman, the largest meteorite in the National Collection of Meteorites, contains transitional textural types that were previously classified as three distinct meteorites. It is now known that these textures are the result of unique combinations of chemistry, nucleation, and cooling history.

The authors thank Tim Rose, Pam Henson and Brian Daniels, the Office of the Smithsonian Institution Archives, George S. Robinson, Nicole Lunning, Katrina Jackson, Ed Scott and Ursula Marvin, and the Edward P. and Rebecca Rogers Henderson Endowment for travel and research funding.

PAGE 18

SUPPORTING INFORMATION

Marcy Dunn Ramsey’s pencil sketches of the Old Woman meteorite are shown in Fig. S1. The maximum dimension of the meteorite is in the range of 0.8 to 1.0 m.

Fig. S2 shows pencil sketches of the find site of the Old Woman meteorite, a deeply pitted iron meteorite that is approximately 1 m across.

William Brewster “Bodie Bill” Godward

Son of William T. Godward and Delcie Pearl Millslagle. “Bill” was the 2 year child old responsible for the 1932 fire in Bodie, California, that destroyed 70% of the town. He was playing with matches behind the Old Sawdust Corner saloon and ignited the building.

He married Dian Dovereaux on Sept. 9, 1949, in Sandusky, Ohio. He worked as an Engineman Third Class in the US Coast Guard.

Bill and his new bride were on their delayed honeymoon when they were involved in a single-car accident on the US 395 near Susanville, California. Bill died from a broken back and injuries he sustained from the accident.
(Findagrave.com)

The Worst of It

In warm weather —and it is hardly ever cold in their tropic valley —the men wear only a breech-clout, and the women a single garment generally made of flaming bandannas bought in the piece. They dress their long hair in curious ropes, and plaster the scalp with mud, tattoo the chin in wild patterns, and have no ornaments save fichus, which they make with great skill from tiny glass beads.

They have been practicing cremation from time immemorial, and were just having a funeral near East Bridge. The corpse, dressed in its best, was stretched on top of a huge pile of dry old ties from the railroad, and the chief mourner touched a torch to the heap of dry brush at the bottom. As the flames sprang aloft and hissed and roared, the mourners stood in a gloomy ring, chanting a wild refrain ; and as the savage fire and savage song went on, they threw upon the pyre from time to time all the earthly possessions of the deceased, and one by one their own garments and ornaments.

Passing the strange, jagged spires of peaks, which are called the Needles because two of them have natural eyelets, —though these are visible only from the canon, and not from the railroad, —I crossed the 1300-foot drawbridge, now abandoned for a fine new cantilever, a dozen miles below, and stood upon the there forbidding soil of California. A night at the rather pretty little railroad town of Needles, and I started off again into the grim Mojave Desert. It was the beginning of two hundred miles whose sufferings far outweighed all that had gone before . . .
A TRAMP
ACROSS THE CONTINENT
BY CHARLES F. LUMMIS

Hazards of Helen

A few miles east of Shoshone is Chicago Valley, which began in a startling swindle and ended in fame and fortune for one defrauded victim.

A convincing crook from the Windy City found government land open to entry and called it Chicago Valley. It was a desolate area; the only living thing to be seen was an occasional coyote skulking across or a vulture flying over. The promoter needed no capital other than a good front, glib tongue, and the ability to lie without the flicker of a lash.

A few weeks later, Chicago widows with meager endowments, scrub women with savings, and some who coughed too much from long hours in sweatshops began to receive beautifully illustrated pamphlets that described a tropical Eden with lush fields, cooling lakes, and more to the point, riches almost overnight. For $100, anyone concerned would be located.

Soon people began to swing off The Goose, as the dinky train serving Shoshone was called, and head for Chicago Valley. Among the victims was a widow named Holmes with a family of attractive, intelligent children. One of these was a vivacious, beautiful teenager named Helen.

The Holmes were handicapped because of tuberculosis in the family. This, in fact, had induced the widow to invest her savings.

Herman Jones used to ride by the Holmes’ place en route to the Pahrump Ranch on hunting trips and owning several burros; he thought the Holmes’ children would like to have one. Taking the donkey over, he told Helen, “You can use him to work the ranch too. Better and faster than a hoe….” He brought a harness and a cultivator, and showed her how to use the implement.

It was inevitable that investors in Chicago Valley would lose their time, labor, and money.

Thus when Helen Holmes returned the burro to Herman one day, Herman was not surprised when she told him she was on her way to Los Angeles to look for a job.

“But what can you do?”

“I wish I knew. I can get a job washing dishes or waiting on tables.”

Shortly afterward, he heard from her—just a little note saying she was a hello girl on a switchboard. “Knew she’d land on her feet,” Herman grinned, and having a bottle handy, he gurgled a toast to Helen. He had to tell the news, of course, and with each telling, he produced the bottle.

So he was in a pleasant mood when somebody suggested a spot of poker. To mention poker in Shoshone is to have a game, and in a little while, Dad Fairbanks, Dan Modine, deputy sheriff Herman, and two or three others were shuffling chips over in the Mesquite Club.

Herman had the luck and quit with $700. “Fellows,” he said as he folded his money, “take a last look at this roll. You won’t see it again.”

“Oh, you’ll be back,” Fairbanks said.

But Herman didn’t come back. Instead, he went to Los Angeles, and found Helen at the switchboard. She confided excitedly that she had a chance to get into the movies as soon as she could get some nice clothes.

“Fine,” Herman said. “When can I see you?” He made a date for dinner, had a few more drinks and when he met her he had a comfortable binge and a grand idea. “… Listen, Helen. You wouldn’t get mad at a fool like me if I meant well, would you?”

“Why Herman—you know I wouldn’t,” she laughed.

“I’m a little likkered and it’s kinda personal….”

“But you’re a gentleman, Herman—drunk or sober….”

“I’ve been thinking of this picture business. I nicked Dad Fairbanks in a poker game. You know how I am. Lose it all one way or another. You take it and buy what you need, and it’ll do us both some good.”

The refusal was quick. “It’s sweet of you, Herman, but not that. I just couldn’t.”

“You can borrow it, can’t you … so I won’t drink it up?”

The argument won, and soon theatergoers all over the world were clutching their palms as they watched the hair-raising escapes from death that pictured “The Perils of Pauline”—the serial that made Helen Holmes one of the immortals of the silent films. She died at 58 on July 8, 1950.

The Captivity of Olive Oatman

A Harrowing Tale of Survival and Resilience

Introduction

The story of Olive Oatman, a young girl who endured unimaginable hardships during her captivity among Native American tribes in the mid-19th century, has become an emblem of resilience and survival. This blog post delves into the gripping account of Olive Oatman’s captivity, shedding light on the challenges she faced and the strength she exhibited throughout her ordeal.

The Oatman Family’s Journey

In 1850, the Oatman family embarked on a treacherous journey from Illinois to California, seeking a better life in the West. Unfortunately, their dreams were shattered when they encountered a Native American tribe, the Yavapai, along the Gila River in present-day Arizona. The tribe, driven by desperation and a history of violence against settlers, attacked the Oatman family. All but Olive and Mary Ann were brutally killed. Brother Lorenzo also survived but was left for dead listening to his mothers cries as she held her infant in the rocks where they were thrown.

Oatman family massacre site – Mick Wedley photo

Captivity Among the Yavapai

The Yavapai tribe took Olive, and her younger sister, Mary Ann, captive, subjecting them to constant fear and uncertainty. A year after their capture, they were traded to the Mohave tribe.

Life Among the Mohave

Under the care of the Mohave tribe, Olive and Mary Ann were gradually integrated into their new community. The Mohave people treated them with relative kindness, adopting them as members of their tribe and providing them with food and shelter. Olive even received facial tattoos, which were traditional among the Mohave, symbolizing her assimilation into their culture.

Rescue and Reintegration

After five years of captivity, Olive’s story took a dramatic turn when her younger sister, Mary Ann, tragically passed away due to starvation. Determined to return to her white heritage, Olive caught the attention of American authorities, urged by Lorenzo, and eventually negotiated her release. Upon her return to white society, Olive faced challenges in readjusting to her former life. Her facial tattoos, a constant reminder of her captivity, presented a unique hurdle in her reintegration.

Legacy and Impact

The story of Olive Oatman’s captivity quickly captivated the public’s imagination, symbolizing resilience and endurance in the face of adversity. Her tale was widely publicized, and she became somewhat of a celebrity during her lifetime. Olive’s memoir, “Captivity of the Oatman Girls,” published in 1857, further immortalized her experiences and shed light on the often misunderstood dynamics between Native American tribes and settlers during that era.

Conclusion

The captivity of Olive Oatman stands as a testament to the indomitable spirit of human will. Her story serves as a reminder of the strength and resilience of the human spirit in the face of unimaginable hardship. Olive Oatman’s legacy endures, inspiring generations to overcome adversity and find courage even in the darkest of times.

(c)Walter Feller

The Captivity of the Oatman Girls

Olive Oatman

Hula Ville

After retiring as a ‘carny,’ or carnival worker at the Venice Pier and Santa Monica Pier, Miles Mahan (1896-1997) began building Hula Ville in 1955.

Wine- and beer-bottle tree sculptures adorned Joshua trees and wooden posts. Desert sandblasted wood signs held poetry and prose; dolls, award statues, and other found objects were displayed outside. A homemade miniature golf course bordered by half-buried bottles was included in his residence, as well as a pickup truck camper and a pickup truck camper without a truck. There was no charge, and donations were accepted.

Mahan also erected a large dancing hula girl sign at the entrance, a business discard he rescued and repurposed. The crude hand-lettered sign beneath her read: “People travel through the state, how little will they know her fate, for the traveler who’ll ever be the wiser, the Supervisors saved her life.” Busses traveling to Las Vegas from Los Angeles would stop, and Miles would entertain them by dancing on his little wooden stage, and they would leave tips. Even in his eighties, he was still able to dance. As much as he enjoyed guessing people’s weights at carnivals, he enjoyed watching Hesperia grow into a city. His poetry and books mention the many people he met along the way, with whom he loved talking about real estate. Whiskey Pete and Scotty from Death Valley were his friends, and Miles was quite a storyteller. These were all true stories. He appeared on the Johnny Carson Show as Johnny invited him back due to his outspoken personality 2 or 3 times. They would send a limo to pick him up and return him.

In 1995 Miles Mahan moved to a convalescent home and died on April 15, 1997. In September 1997, Hula Ville was demolished.

Jackrabbit Homesteads

Jackrabbit Homesteads, a unique phenomenon in the American Southwest, hold a significant place in the region’s history and culture. These small, rustic cabins were built on public lands in the mid-20th century. They offered settlers the opportunity to claim a piece of the desert and forge their own paths. We will explore the intriguing story behind these homesteads and their enduring legacy.

The establishment of Jackrabbit Homesteads dates back to the passage of the Small Tract Act of 1938, which aimed to encourage settlement on federal lands. Under this act, individuals could claim up to five acres of land and build a dwelling upon it. Many of these homesteads were constructed between the 1950s and 1970s, attracting individuals seeking a simpler, off-grid lifestyle or a weekend getaway from the hustle and bustle of city life.

Jackrabbit Homesteads were typically modest, one-room cabins constructed from inexpensive materials such as concrete blocks or plywood. These structures were often sparsely furnished, reflecting the self-sufficient nature of the homesteaders who built them. Although lacking in modern amenities, these homesteads provided a sense of freedom and a connection to the surrounding natural landscape.

Living on a Jackrabbit Homestead required resourcefulness and willingness to adapt to harsh desert conditions. Homesteaders relied on rainwater catchment systems and solar power; many grew their own food or raised livestock. The simplicity of this lifestyle allowed individuals to reconnect with nature and find solace in the vast desert.

While Jackrabbit Homesteads have passed, their legacy lives on. Many homesteads have been abandoned or repurposed today as reminders of a bygone era. Some have even been transformed into art installations or preserved as historical landmarks. The National Park Service has recognized the cultural significance of Jackrabbit Homesteads and is working to preserve and document these unique structures.

For those intrigued by the allure of Jackrabbit Homesteads, there are opportunities to explore and experience these historic sites. For instance, Joshua Tree National Park in California is home to several preserved homesteads that offer a glimpse into the past. Visitors can wander through these time capsules, imagining the lives of the individuals who once called these cabins home.

Jackrabbit Homesteads are a testament to the human spirit of resilience and the desire for independence. Scattered across the desert landscape, these modest dwellings tell a story of determination and self-sufficiency. While the era of homesteading may have faded, the legacy of Jackrabbit Homesteads continues to captivate and inspire those who appreciate the allure of a simpler way of life.

(c) Walter Feller

Controlling Local History: The Practice of Marginalization and Banning People

Introduction:

Local history shapes community identity and collective memory. It preserves the stories, events, and heritage that shape the present. However, in some cases, the practice of controlling local history and banning people from it has raised concerns. This blog post explores the implications of such practices and their potential consequences for communities.

1. The Power Dynamics of Controlling Local History:

Controlling local history involves the selective interpretation and presentation of historical narratives, often influenced by those in power. Controlling the narrative can emphasize certain perspectives or events while suppressing others, resulting in a skewed understanding of the past. This power dynamic can lead to the exclusion and erasure of marginalized voices and communities.

2. Banning People from Local History:

Banning individuals from participating in local history recording, sharing, or access restricts collective memory and perpetuates exclusion. This exclusion can occur for a variety of reasons, such as political dissent, social status, or cultural differences. However, by denying individuals the right to contribute to, learn from, and engage with local history, a community risks losing valuable insights and perspectives.

3. Implications for Communities:

When individuals are banned from local history, the community as a whole suffers. The diversity of experiences and perspectives is diminished, resulting in a narrow understanding of the past. This can lead to a distorted sense of identity and an inability to learn from past mistakes or appreciate the contributions of all community members. Furthermore, the practice of banning people from local history can perpetuate social divisions and hinder unity and cohesion.

4. Promoting Inclusive Local History:

To ensure a more inclusive and accurate representation of local history, it is crucial to adopt practices that encourage participation from all members of the community. This can be achieved through initiatives such as oral history projects, community-led documentation, and the establishment of inclusive historical archives. Communities can create a more comprehensive and nuanced understanding of their shared past by actively involving diverse voices.

5. The Importance of Dialogue and Understanding:

Rather than banning individuals from local history, fostering open dialogue and understanding can lead to a more inclusive and comprehensive narrative. Communities can work toward reconciliation and healing by creating spaces for conversations, sharing different perspectives, and acknowledging history’s complexities. This approach allows for a more accurate reflection of the past, embracing diversity and promoting a sense of belonging for all community members.

Conclusion:

Controlling local history and banning people from it has far-reaching consequences for communities. It perpetuates power imbalances, excludes marginalized voices, and limits collective memory. Instead of resorting to such practices. Communities should strive for inclusivity, open dialogue, and the active participation of all individuals in shaping and preserving local history. Doing so can create a more accurate, diverse, and enriching understanding of the past, ensuring a more inclusive and united future.

Walter Feller – 8/2023

The Waning Character of the Victor Valley: A Reflection on Change

Introduction:

The Victor Valley, once known for its vibrant character and idyllic charm, has witnessed a gradual decline in its unique essence over the years. Let us examine the factors contributing to the waning character of the Victor Valley and reflect upon the changes that have shaped its present state.

The Historical Significance:

The Victor Valley has a rich history, deeply rooted in the California Gold Rush and the railroad system development. These historical events played a pivotal role in shaping the valley’s character, attracting settlers, prospectors, and entrepreneurs seeking opportunities. The region blossomed with small communities, bustling industries, and a strong sense of community.

Urbanization and Economic Shifts:

Over time, the Victor Valley has undergone significant urbanization and economic shifts, which have profoundly impacted its character. With the expansion of cities and towns, vast open spaces have been replaced by commercial developments and residential neighborhoods. This rapid growth has led to a loss of natural beauty and a decline in historical landmark preservation.

Furthermore, economic changes have influenced the character of the Victor Valley. The decline of traditional industries, such as agriculture and mining, has resulted in a shift towards a service-based economy. While this has brought economic stability and employment opportunities, it has also contributed to a loss of the valley’s unique identity as small businesses struggle to compete with larger corporate chains.

Cultural Shifts and Loss of Community Spirit:

Another significant factor contributing to the waning character of the Victor Valley is the cultural shifts experienced by its residents. As the valley has become more diverse, the sense of community and shared values that once defined its character has diminished. People are now more connected virtually than physically, and the traditional community spirit has given way to individualism and isolation.

The Impact of Modernization:

The advent of modern technology and social media has further eroded the character of the Victor Valley. The constant connectivity and virtual interactions have replaced face-to-face communication, making it harder for residents to connect and engage with each other. The valley’s unique charm, once fostered by personal connections and local events, now struggles to compete with the allure of the digital age.

Preserving the Victor Valley’s Character:

Despite Victor Valley’s challenges, there is hope for preserving its character. Community-driven initiatives, historical preservation efforts, and a renewed focus on local businesses can help restore the valley’s identity. By embracing sustainable development practices and promoting cultural events celebrating the valley’s heritage, residents and local authorities can work together to attempt to revive the character that once defined the Victor Valley.

Conclusion:

The waning character of Victor Valley reminds us of the ever-changing nature of our society. The forces of urbanization, economic shifts, cultural changes, and technological advancements have left an indelible mark on the valley’s identity.

Digital Desert: An Oasis of Limitless Creativity

Introduction:

In the vast realm of digital art, few artists can claim to have revolutionized the medium quite like Walter Feller’s. With his groundbreaking project, aptly named the “Digital Desert,” Feller has created a virtual oasis of creativity that pushes the boundaries of what is possible in the digital world. In this post, we will explore the captivating world of Walter Feller’s Digital Desert and delve into the mesmerizing beauty that lies within.

Unveiling the Digital Desert:

The Digital Desert is not just a collection of digital vintage/historical and contemporary works but an immersive experience that transports viewers into a realm where contemporary reality and history blend seamlessly. Feller has meticulously crafted a vast landscape within the digital realm, using his exceptional technical skills and boundless artistic vision. The result is a breathtaking desert expanse teeming with dunes, majestic rock formations, and an ever-changing sky that displays nature’s nuances.

Exploring the Creative Oasis:

Within the Digital Desert, Feller’s creativity knows no bounds. It is a space where traditional artistic techniques merge with innovative digital tools. Each artwork within the Digital Desert is an awe-inspiring masterpiece, meticulously crafted with attention to detail and an unwavering dedication to perfection. From hyper-realistic landscapes, Feller’s artistry encompasses a vast array of styles and themes, leaving viewers captivated and inspired.

The Role of Technology:

Feller’s Digital Desert would not be possible without the technological advancements that have paved the way for digital art to flourish. Through his mastery of digital tools, Feller has harnessed the power of software and hardware to create art that pushes the boundaries of imagination in creating a historical model. The Digital Desert serves as a testament to the limitless possibilities that technology offers to historians and artists, allowing them to bring their visions to life in once unimaginable ways.

Impact and Influence:

Walter Feller’s Digital Desert has garnered widespread acclaim and has left an indelible mark on the digital art community. His work has inspired countless artists to explore digital art possibilities and opened up new avenues for creative expression. Feller’s unique ability to seamlessly blend traditional artistry with cutting-edge technology has set a new standard in digital art, making him a true pioneer.

Conclusion:

Walter Feller’s Digital Desert is a testament to the power of human creativity and the boundless possibilities within the digital realm. Through his awe-inspiring artworks, Walter Feller has created a virtual oasis that captivates viewers and pushes the boundaries of what is possible in digital art. The Digital Desert is a testament to Feller’s unparalleled talent, technical skill, and unwavering dedication to his craft. As we venture further into the digital age, the legacy of Walter Feller and his Digital Desert will undoubtedly continue to inspire and shape the future of art and internet development.