More Than a Town
In the stark, harsh and barren desert floor lays the remains of some wooden structures. Structures that have weathered the seasons of life, the sandstorms, the blistering heat and bone chilling cold of harsh desert nights. Like lonely and silent soldiers standing guard, these remains watch time slip slowly by and leave them behind. Yet behind these weathered boards, shards of broken glass, remnants of a time long past lies more than a mere town, or what is known to most as a ghost town. But a town where mans hopes, dreams, achievements, struggles and losses can be found.
Throughout the western United States an occasional and sporadic outcropping of wooden buildings, a leaning outhouse or rusty hulk of a car from long ago can still be discovered. Amongst the structures, scattered pieces of rusty metal or an occasional bottle from a point in time that some would see as an eyesore or a spot of insignificance. However, these remaining structures are like the last men standing after a long siege. The ones that time, age, destruction and even dishonor have not been able to totally erase from the lands memories. Memories of a past that hold a wealth of knowledge, vision and experiences that if not recalled upon steal the very heart and soul that was once poured into that very spot.
These towns are not just a collection of dilapidated, antiquated construction but they are so much more. They symbolize the pioneering spirit of our forefathers who came to settle in an unknown and sometimes extremely hostile environment. With the dreams of reaching the "promised land" many embarked on a journey that would lead some to stop along the way and construct their dreams among a formidable land. With the dreams of a "land flowing with milk and honey" they would convert the dry, dusty, inhabitable areas that had only before seen an occasional coyote or jackrabbit into places flowing with the mass of dreams like a river running downstream.
Fortunes would be made and loss at the turn of a card, blade of a knife or loss of a life and yet the river of mankind would continue to flow and another "garden of Eden" would be recreated amongst the thorns. No matter how stony the soil, how perilous the journey, how inhospitable the land, our forefathers dreamed of a land of promise, of freedom and this dream kept the river of man flowing out west, the way a river runs to the sea.
“The Wilderness”. Saving America’s Civil War Battlefields: Civil War Trust. Civil War Trust. 2013. Web. 3 March 2014.
Horwitz's study of the Civil War and the South provided a lesson on human nature: We can't forget our past. After reading this book, I feel similar to the way I felt when I completed the family history project- knowing your past is essential to building your future. While there is still no solution for all the problems in our country, there is always a chance to learn more in hopes that someday, we as a people will have the courage to face up to the division in America and mend things once and for all.
The mentioning of there being only bare horizon between buildings and the farming characteristics help determine the town is what is usually pictured as a small farming town, The road they walk on is dirt, the guilt letters on the bank, and the string of houses with the weathered grey or peeling paint almost represents a lifeless area with little to nothing occurring there and being affected by the dog and the whole situation and how it leads to the trees death eliminates any positive vibes in the town.
...t create ourselves. That we owe what we are to the communities that helped form us”(Bellah et. al., P. 295). We have a long history in this country of others who gave and sacrificed so much so we could have our present. We must understand that life is to be shared, it is not a race whose only “goal is to he foremost” (Bellah et. al., P. 296). It is to be lived. We must be committed to those we love, and to our communities. Maybe the longing for nostalgia in this country can help to return to a time when family, friends, community, church and more were important and we all knew we were part of something greater than ourselves. We must however not live in the past, we must use the past to build and focus on the future.
When the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2011 rocked New York City, Pennsylvania, and Washington D.C., the word “tragedy” was used on a grandiose level around the world. For the people who lived close enough to experience the events first-hand, they may not have even called it a tragedy; perhaps they called it a misfortune, retaliation, lack of a strong government, unreal, or maybe even rebirth. In the coming years after the attacks, everything between standing united as a nation to declaring a war had flourished; but how has that left us - the land that has no distinct ethnicity - feel about each other? Why is it that fear is usually missing in the affective mnemonics of memorial sites, which, after all, are signifiers of some of the most horrific violence in human history? Do memorials dedicated to these attacks bring us together in terms of understanding, or is it just continual collective grief? This paper will cover the global complexity of the 9/11 attacks, the Empty Sky 9/11 Memorial in Liberty State Park, NJ, and factors and theories that memorials do influence a sense of complexity. The ground of public memory is always in motion, shifting with the tectonics of national identity. I chose the Empty Sky 9/11 Memorial as my topic of observation as I, personally, visit a few times throughout the year to pay respects to people I personally knew who perished in the attacks to the World Trade Center. I was in the 5th grade when this happened, and had absolutely no clue what was going on until my father did not return home until two days later with a bandage wrapped around his head and his devastating recollection of what happened just before he arrived to his job. The emotions that I feel within myself compared to others will...
cold, harsh, wintry days, when my brothers and sister and I trudged home from school burdened down by the silence and frigidity of our long trek from the main road, down the hill to our shabby-looking house. More rundown than any of our classmates’ houses. In winter my mother’s riotous flowers would be absent, and the shack stood revealed for what it was. A gray, decaying...
Although portrayed in a particularly gruesome scenario, author Shirley Jackson conveys the importance of upholding tradition in her short story, “The Lottery.” While the climactic execution-by-stoning isn’t quite a modern example, it still serves to show us that some traditions are worth upholding. In our society today, it seems as if there is a growing movement to look forward and embrace the new instead of remembering our past. But to effectively make changes and plan for the future, it is essential that we turn to our history. One of the greatest issues in the world today is that of patriotism. In the immediate wake of September 11th, nearly all residents of this country proudly proclaimed themselves “Americans,” putting aside personal bias, differences in religion, and family roots to support the rebuilding of a nation. Lately, however (since our involvement in the Iraq War), this notion of unity and brotherhood has once again taken a backseat to personal agendas.
Repressed memories is a topic that has been an ongoing dispute among some, however ac...
Today, memorials are built with the purpose of remembering and connecting with the past. Although memorials and monuments are unique landscapes, it must be noted that memorials are often dedicated to those who have been victimized, while monuments offer a celebration or remembrance of a specific person or event. However, both do not fail in shaping the world as it is today. People remember, people learn, and people move on. In memorializing an event and in creating a monument, one should consider its location, cost, and meaning. Failing to do so might provoke controversy among those who are innocent and those who are against it.
As visitors approach one of the most beautiful inns in North Carolina they will be serenaded by the rhythmic thumping of the tires as they cross each cobblestone. The inn is like a massive wall of rocks that looks to be touching the blue sky. The red tile roof looks like a red cloud sitting atop this castle of rocks. These rocks were placed over one hundred years ago and still stand in their exact spot. From the parking area you can almost imagine the horse drawn wagons that had worked so hard to pull these massive boulders up to this very spot. You can see all the hard work that had went into clearing this mountain side for the inn to begin construction in the year 1912. If you listen very close you can just hear its history calling out to you.
Imagination plays a crucial role in creating communities and its identity. Fiction, in this case will cover both absolute fabrications and biases in the discourse of history's narration. History can be malleable in the hands of narrators, which they use to unite their audience into a common interpretation of their history. Alicia Barber, The author of the essay, Local Places, National Spaces: Public Memory, Community Identity and Landscape at Scotts Bluff National Monument, talks about two community's disagreement on a tourist spot's proper use and maintenance. Barber analyzes the community's relations to the landmark and how it affects the discourse of history's narration, the malleability of public memory, and how it all connects with community identity. Michael Ignatieff wrote about a civil struggle between two groups who identify themselves very differently from each other. In his analysis, he mixed his personal account of the situation, explaining the role of narcissism in the discourse of history's narration. His essay, The Warrior's Honor: Ethic War and the Modern Conscience, describes a more radical conflict from fabricated major differences. These two authors describe two very different approach to their conflicts, but their discourse to the narration of their history are similar. Their fabrications and biased narrations stem from their egocentric imaginations that support their identity.
The American Civil war is considered to be one of the most defining moments in American history. It is the war that shaped the social, political and economic structure with a broader prospect of unifying the states and hence leading to this ideal nation of unified states as it is today. In the book “Confederates in the Attic”, the author Tony Horwitz gives an account of his year long exploration through the places where the U.S. Civil War was fought. He took his childhood interest in the Civil War to a new level by traveling around the South in search of Civil War relics, battle fields, and most importantly stories. The title “Confederates in the Attic”: Dispatches from the Unfinished Civil War carries two meanings in Tony Horwitz’s thoughtful and entertaining exploration of the role of the American Civil War in the modern world of the South. The first meaning alludes to Horwitz’s personal interest in the war. As the grandson of a Russian Jew, Horwitz was raised in the North but early in his childhood developed a fascination with the South’s myth and history. He tells readers that as a child he wrote about the war and even constructed a mural of significant battles in the attic of his own home. The second meaning refers to regional memory, the importance or lack thereof yet attached to this momentous national event. As Horwitz visits the sites throughout the South, he encounters unreconstructed rebels who still hold to outdated beliefs. He also meets groups of “re-enactors,” devotees who attempt to relive the experience of the soldier’s life and death. One of his most disheartening and yet unsurprising realizations is that attitudes towards the war divide along racial lines. Too many whites wrap the memory in nostalgia, refusing...
The memorials and museums mediate the memories of collective racial, political, and other injustices as well as traumas by showing and educating people on the various experiences of immigrant struggles. The collective impact of this educational work and exhibitions on various distinct communities that constitute the American community is a significant contribution to the steady transformation of the U.S. history in general. They are pillars of a movement that helps us understand the individual histories of various cultural groups that may have been marginalized or denied adequate attention by the nation’s general history. In fact, some of these mediated memories have turned out to be unifying elements for the nation. For instance, the maintenance of historical buildings from the nineteenth century have created elements of our national pride and helped us appreciate and celebrate our stylistic
I slowly trudged up the road towards the farm. The country road was dusty, and quiet except for the occasional passing vehicle. Only the clear, burbling sound of a wren’s birdsong sporadically broke the boredom. A faded sign flapped lethargically against the gate. On it, a big black and white cow stood over the words “Bent Rail Farm”. The sign needed fresh paint, and one of its hinges was broken. Suddenly, the distant roar of an engine shattered the stillness of that Friday afternoon. Big tires speeding over gravel pelted small stones in all directions. The truck stopped in front of the red-brick farmhouse with the green door and shutters. It was the large milking truck that stopped by every Friday afternoon. I leisurely passed by fields of corn, wheat, barley, and strawberries. The fields stretched from the gradient hills to the snowy mountains. The blasting wind blew like a bellowing blizzard. A river cut through the hilly panorama. The river ubiquitously flowed from tranquil to tempestuous water. Raging river rapids rushed recklessly into rocks ricocheting and rebounding relentlessly through this rigorous river. Leaves danced with the wind as I looked around the valley. The sun was trapped by smoky, and soggy clouds.
I’ve finally made it. When you first land here the immediate difference is all around you whizzing around you creating a sense of life. It 's a sense that you rarely have in a small town it 's bigger I can’t quite obtain a hold of it. It moves fast all through the night and during the day. It peaks in all of my senses to create a brand new sense of the life of the city.