Post by blackcrowheart on Jul 5, 2007 8:43:36 GMT -5
John Clayton: Not politically correct, but great in a parade
By JOHN CLAYTON
New Hampshire Union Leader Staff
Monday, Mar. 5, 2007
I LOVE READER mail.
I don't always get to it right away, but I do enjoy it, especially when it includes photographs such as the accompanying snapshot, which I received back in 1946.
Wait a second.
I wasn't alive in 1946.
That's when this picture was taken. I received it back in 1998 -- I told you I don't always get to my mail right away -- and it came to me from Algerd and Irene Truska.
It's one of many photos they shot during the whopping Manchester Centennial Parade back in 1946, and the Truskas sent a batch of similar shots to illustrate the local presence of the oldest patriotic organization in the United States of America.
Political correctness was not an issue when the member's of the Improved Order of Red Men marched past Grant’s State Motors on Elm Street during Manchester's Centennial Parade in 1945.
If the costumes haven't offered enough of a clue, the group was known as the Improved Order of Red Men. For those of the female persuasion, the parallel auxiliary organization was called The Degree of Pocahontas -- "Pokeys" for short -- and they were very big in Manchester.
(Incidentally, I know this item may incur the wrath of those who recently lobbied against Central High School's Indian mascot, but the camera doesn't lie and the facts is the facts).
Anyway, Manchester was once home to two "Tribes" of the Improved Order of Red Men. The Passaconaway Tribe (No. 5) was constituted in 1881 and the Agawam Tribe (No. 8) came along in 1886 and the Manchester Historic Association has editions of the official by-laws to prove it.
These days, among the many things that would ruffle feathers -- perhaps that's a bad choice of phrase -- is the fact that, in addition to a Sachem, two Sagamores and a Prophet, each tribe had to elect a "Keeper of the Wampum."
Among the many bylaws regarding membership is this one: "No pale-face shall be adopted into this tribe unless he shall have attained the age of 21 great suns."
Elaborate Native American attire was mandatory during public events attended by the members of the Improved Order of Red Men, circa 1946, in Manchester.
It was a different age, to be sure, but even though I couldn't find evidence that the Improved Order of Red Men and the Degree of Pocahontas are still active in Manchester, the national organization has working chapters in 18 states, including Maine and Massachusetts.
And if you want to talk about a freaky coincidence, consider this:
Manchester celebrated its Centennial (and the Truskas took their photos) on Oct. 12, 1946. That's Columbus Day, which many people point to as the beginning of the end for Native Americans.
__
Contrary to my positive nature, I think 2007 is getting off to a lousy start.
I realize that death is a part of life, but we're barely two months into the new year, and this constant rending of Manchester's social fabric -- as it is played out every single day on the obituary page -- is wearing on my soul.
The loss of photographer Bob Raiche has already been chronicled in this space, but the passing of others, like Dorothy (Norton) Mullen, George Der Koorkanian and Lee Anne Steiner also robs us of vital elements in the intricate mosaic that is this city.
Dot Mullen died on Jan. 4 at the age of 87. She was well-known around town as a devoted wife and mother, but I wonder how many of my fellow West High alums know that this 1936 graduate was the first female recipient of the Rotary Cup at West, which is given for academic excellence and commitment to the community?
George der Koorkanian was a soft-spoken man of wry humor and intense intellect who died Jan. 20. In 34 years with the U.S. Foreign Service, he had diplomatic postings in Panama, Germany, the Philippines, Thailand and Washington, D.C., and every time I asked if he was working undercover for the CIA in those posts -- a spook, as it were -- he'd give me a smile and a mischievous wink.
As for Lee Anne Steiner who died Feb. 16, she served on the board of directors of Elliot Hospital Associates and as special projects coordinator for the New Hampshire Republican State Committee from 1986-1997. As a state representative, she was the co-sponsor of the bill that authorized the original exit ramp off Interstate 293 to Granite Street in Manchester.
For that, I thank her every day.
Well, I will when the new construction is done.
And how can we measure the loss of a man like J. Richard Higgins, the former fire commissioner, sweepstakes commissioner, retired vice president from New England Telephone and most importantly, to honor his self-effacing style, the one-time North Little League coach who passed away on Feb. 7?
Other than my father, if there was a man I would like most to emulate as a gentleman, a family man and an orator, it was dick Higgins.
He had the eloquence of a poet and the timing of Jack Benny, and better yet, when suffering fools, he had the uniquely Irish gift -- tipped off by the sparkle in his eye -- of telling someone to go to hell in such a way that they would actually look forward to the trip.
Alas, he never taught me that, but ah, he was a grand man.
I miss him already.
And how am I to make sense of the passing of Madge Sandmann?
Yes, she was 94 when she died on Feb. 23, but this newspaper's long-time senior's page editor was a pistol to the end. Our weekly visits were like therapy for me, and when I was asked to speak at her funeral last week, it was impossible to decline.
After all, how many people in Manchester could claim to have ridden the cable cars up Mount Uncanoonuc and Space Mountain at Disney World?
Madge could.
I spoke about that and I spoke about her adventures with the Amoskeag Brownies and the Turn Verein and about her early newspaper days -- long before I was conceived -- when the "Hedda Hopper of the West Side" authored pieces like "Harugari Happenings" and "Raphael Reapings."
I also spoke about a typical visit to her backyard.
It was back in 1995, an easy chat between two old West Side souls, and Madge got to talking about the Sunday drives she would take with her good friend Joe Helleniak. She wasn't giving me advice -- Madge would never presume to give advice -- but here's what she said:
"When we go driving, we don't take the highways. We take the by-ways. You'd be amazed at what you find. I don't know how many times I've driven up through Franconia Notch, but every time we go, I have to get out of the car and say hello to the Old Man of the Mountain. You never know. He might not be there someday."
She was right.
He's gone. Now she is, too.
And therefore, never send to know for whom the bell tolls ...
John Clayton is the author of several books on Manchester and New Hampshire, including the recently released "You Know You're in New Hampshire When." His e-mail is jclayton@unionleader.com
By JOHN CLAYTON
New Hampshire Union Leader Staff
Monday, Mar. 5, 2007
I LOVE READER mail.
I don't always get to it right away, but I do enjoy it, especially when it includes photographs such as the accompanying snapshot, which I received back in 1946.
Wait a second.
I wasn't alive in 1946.
That's when this picture was taken. I received it back in 1998 -- I told you I don't always get to my mail right away -- and it came to me from Algerd and Irene Truska.
It's one of many photos they shot during the whopping Manchester Centennial Parade back in 1946, and the Truskas sent a batch of similar shots to illustrate the local presence of the oldest patriotic organization in the United States of America.
Political correctness was not an issue when the member's of the Improved Order of Red Men marched past Grant’s State Motors on Elm Street during Manchester's Centennial Parade in 1945.
If the costumes haven't offered enough of a clue, the group was known as the Improved Order of Red Men. For those of the female persuasion, the parallel auxiliary organization was called The Degree of Pocahontas -- "Pokeys" for short -- and they were very big in Manchester.
(Incidentally, I know this item may incur the wrath of those who recently lobbied against Central High School's Indian mascot, but the camera doesn't lie and the facts is the facts).
Anyway, Manchester was once home to two "Tribes" of the Improved Order of Red Men. The Passaconaway Tribe (No. 5) was constituted in 1881 and the Agawam Tribe (No. 8) came along in 1886 and the Manchester Historic Association has editions of the official by-laws to prove it.
These days, among the many things that would ruffle feathers -- perhaps that's a bad choice of phrase -- is the fact that, in addition to a Sachem, two Sagamores and a Prophet, each tribe had to elect a "Keeper of the Wampum."
Among the many bylaws regarding membership is this one: "No pale-face shall be adopted into this tribe unless he shall have attained the age of 21 great suns."
Elaborate Native American attire was mandatory during public events attended by the members of the Improved Order of Red Men, circa 1946, in Manchester.
It was a different age, to be sure, but even though I couldn't find evidence that the Improved Order of Red Men and the Degree of Pocahontas are still active in Manchester, the national organization has working chapters in 18 states, including Maine and Massachusetts.
And if you want to talk about a freaky coincidence, consider this:
Manchester celebrated its Centennial (and the Truskas took their photos) on Oct. 12, 1946. That's Columbus Day, which many people point to as the beginning of the end for Native Americans.
__
Contrary to my positive nature, I think 2007 is getting off to a lousy start.
I realize that death is a part of life, but we're barely two months into the new year, and this constant rending of Manchester's social fabric -- as it is played out every single day on the obituary page -- is wearing on my soul.
The loss of photographer Bob Raiche has already been chronicled in this space, but the passing of others, like Dorothy (Norton) Mullen, George Der Koorkanian and Lee Anne Steiner also robs us of vital elements in the intricate mosaic that is this city.
Dot Mullen died on Jan. 4 at the age of 87. She was well-known around town as a devoted wife and mother, but I wonder how many of my fellow West High alums know that this 1936 graduate was the first female recipient of the Rotary Cup at West, which is given for academic excellence and commitment to the community?
George der Koorkanian was a soft-spoken man of wry humor and intense intellect who died Jan. 20. In 34 years with the U.S. Foreign Service, he had diplomatic postings in Panama, Germany, the Philippines, Thailand and Washington, D.C., and every time I asked if he was working undercover for the CIA in those posts -- a spook, as it were -- he'd give me a smile and a mischievous wink.
As for Lee Anne Steiner who died Feb. 16, she served on the board of directors of Elliot Hospital Associates and as special projects coordinator for the New Hampshire Republican State Committee from 1986-1997. As a state representative, she was the co-sponsor of the bill that authorized the original exit ramp off Interstate 293 to Granite Street in Manchester.
For that, I thank her every day.
Well, I will when the new construction is done.
And how can we measure the loss of a man like J. Richard Higgins, the former fire commissioner, sweepstakes commissioner, retired vice president from New England Telephone and most importantly, to honor his self-effacing style, the one-time North Little League coach who passed away on Feb. 7?
Other than my father, if there was a man I would like most to emulate as a gentleman, a family man and an orator, it was dick Higgins.
He had the eloquence of a poet and the timing of Jack Benny, and better yet, when suffering fools, he had the uniquely Irish gift -- tipped off by the sparkle in his eye -- of telling someone to go to hell in such a way that they would actually look forward to the trip.
Alas, he never taught me that, but ah, he was a grand man.
I miss him already.
And how am I to make sense of the passing of Madge Sandmann?
Yes, she was 94 when she died on Feb. 23, but this newspaper's long-time senior's page editor was a pistol to the end. Our weekly visits were like therapy for me, and when I was asked to speak at her funeral last week, it was impossible to decline.
After all, how many people in Manchester could claim to have ridden the cable cars up Mount Uncanoonuc and Space Mountain at Disney World?
Madge could.
I spoke about that and I spoke about her adventures with the Amoskeag Brownies and the Turn Verein and about her early newspaper days -- long before I was conceived -- when the "Hedda Hopper of the West Side" authored pieces like "Harugari Happenings" and "Raphael Reapings."
I also spoke about a typical visit to her backyard.
It was back in 1995, an easy chat between two old West Side souls, and Madge got to talking about the Sunday drives she would take with her good friend Joe Helleniak. She wasn't giving me advice -- Madge would never presume to give advice -- but here's what she said:
"When we go driving, we don't take the highways. We take the by-ways. You'd be amazed at what you find. I don't know how many times I've driven up through Franconia Notch, but every time we go, I have to get out of the car and say hello to the Old Man of the Mountain. You never know. He might not be there someday."
She was right.
He's gone. Now she is, too.
And therefore, never send to know for whom the bell tolls ...
John Clayton is the author of several books on Manchester and New Hampshire, including the recently released "You Know You're in New Hampshire When." His e-mail is jclayton@unionleader.com