All posts by Steve Stern

The Battle of Champion Hill

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In May, 2008, five years ago, Michele and I didn’t visit Champion Hill. We got close, we got to Vicksburg, but we didn’t get to Champion Hill. Today, one hundred and fifty years ago, on May 16th, 1863,  Ulysses S. Grant did.

He attacked the Confederate Army of General John Pemberton there. That battle, eventually, led to the fall of the Confederate fortress of Vicksburg, the separation of the South into two unconnected halves, the re-connection of the Midwest with the sea, and – I think – the end of the Confederacy. Lincoln said it best, We can take all the northern ports of the Confederacy, and they can defy us from Vicksburg. It means hog and hominy without limit, fresh troops from all the states of the far South, and a cotton country where they can raise the staple without interference.

It was one of, if not the greatest, military campaigns in our history. Grant was behind enemy lines  and outnumbered by almost two to one. All this, in an area that was swampy and mosquito infested. When Michele and I were there  – in 2008 on a pilgrimage – we didn’t even want to leave the paved roads. But Grant had been moving constantly since he and his army had crossed the Mississippi on April 3oth, two weeks before.

To distract and confuse the enemy, Grant had ordered two diversionary actions. One of them, Col. Ben Grierson’s raid, was  featured in the New York Times a couple of days ago.  Grierson made a 16 day, 600 mile, raid behind enemy lines. It was audacious, and typical of Grant, and it succeeded in diverting much of the southern cavalry – the eyes and ears of the army at that time – away from Grant’s Army.

When he crossed the Mississippi, Grant was deep in the delta flatlands – the Plantation South – and, as he captured territory, he freed slaves. Later, many of those slaves became Union soldiers, and some were immediately helpful to the Union. Without their help, Grant would have been blind; he didn’t know the country and he had no maps.  As an aside that amuses me, Grant also purchased, according to his son – freed?  liberated? captured? according to others – a horse from the plantation of Joseph Davis, Jefferson Davis’ brother. Grant renamed the horse Jeff Davis and rode him, along with Cincinnati,  for much of the war. End of asides.

Because he couldn’t attack Vicksburg directly, Grant moved east to cut off the city’s supply line. In doing so, he cut off all connection to his own base. Now he was alone, outnumbered, and surrounded. In his memoirs, Grant says, I therefore determined to move swiftly towards Jackson, destroy or drive any force in that direction and then turn upon Pemberton. But by moving against Jackson, I uncovered my own communication [and supply lines]. So I finally decided to have none–to cut loose altogether from my base and move my whole force eastward. I then had no fears for my communications, and if I moved quickly enough could turn upon Pemberton before he could attack me in the rear.

It was a blitzkrieg if I can use that word with an army mostly walking and using muledrawn wagons, oxcarts, and horses pulling buggies. According to Major-General J F C Fuller, an early theorist of modern armored warfare, Grant’s tremendous energy electrified his men, everywhere was there activity….reconnaissances were sent out daily to examine the roads and country, and foraging parties swarmed over the cultivated areas collecting supplies….Nothing was left undone which would speed up the advance, and assist in maintaining it at maximum pressure once the move forward was ordered.

On May 14th, two weeks after he crossed the Mississippi, in country he did not know and without maps, Grant took Jackson, about 60 miles from where he crossed the river, and as he says in his memoirs, his troops hoisted the National flag over the rebel capital of Mississippi. 

One more aside, in the Not everybody appreciates Grant’s humor department, the night after capturing, Jackson, Mississippi, Grant stayed at the best hotel in town, The Bowman House (in the same room that General Joseph Johnson had stayed in, for free, the night before). When the owner demanded payment, Grant’s aide-de-camp said No, but Grant agreed with the hotel owner and insisted on paying for the room…in Confederate money. End aside.

Grant then turned towards Vicksburg  from the east, and 27 miles west of where he slept two days before, he met Pemberton at Champion Hill. Again, Grant in his memoirs, The battle of Champion’s Hill lasted about four hours, hard fighting, preceded by two or three hours of skirmishing, some of which almost rose to the dignity of battle….We had in this battle about 15,000 men absolutely engaged. Our loss was 410 killed, 1,844 wounded and 187 missing. The south lost 4,082 men and were driven back into Vicksburg never to recover.

On our pilgrimage of only one day, we only had time to drive south to the area where Grant crossed the Mississippi and tour the Vicksburg Battlefield itself. Our guide for the day told us that Champion Hill was too far away (maybe he was influenced by our reluctance to leave the road earlier). He didn’t say Keep moving, there is nothing to see there, keep moving but that was the drift. Now I am sorry that I missed it, even if there was nothing to see, and I want to say that I am sorry that I will not be able to attend the 150th Anniversary, but that is not true, if I did go, all I would do is gloat.

But we did have time to get a Chinese dinner in Vicksburg  as is our ritual when traveling, and we did have time to see the Mighty Mississippi. From the bluff overlooking the River, we confirmed, as Lincoln said, that The Father of Waters again goes unvexed to the sea.
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And Thanks to Michele who really helped write this. 

 

Bahrain

 

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I read in Al Jazeera that A Bahraini court has sentenced six Twitter users to one year in prison for allegedly insulting King Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa….The six were charged by the lower criminal court with “misusing the right of free expression”…and “undermining the values and traditions of Bahrain’s society towards the king”.

I guess the good news is that the courts said  the right of free expression and used a lower case “k” when referring to the king. The bad news, to me, is everything else and I am afraid that even the good news is just window dressing.

The United States 5th Fleet is stationed in Bahrain so we have to be nice to our host (I tried to resist saying kowtow). Our host, in this case is a regime that called in the Saudi army to help it put down peaceful protests. Our host is a minority Sunni regime that suppresses its Shiite majority. A host that, by its own admission, has killed and tortured its own citizens when they protested.

The FIA runs a Formula One race in Bahrain and that bothers me, but it bothers me even more that we have a Navy fleet stationed there. I don’t know, for sure,  how many fleets we have, but I think it is six and I know we have to put them somewhere and many democratic governments don’t want a US Navy fleet stationed in their country. As an aside,I do know that we have eleven aircraft carriers and the next most powerful country – still Russia – has only one, so we are pretty safe on that front. End aside.

According to a PR release, the fleet is there to ensure the free flow of oil through the Gulf, as well as monitoring Iran and deterring piracy and navy officials have said there is no sign that the protesters  intend to direct their hostility toward us. I guess that the latter is good news, but – really – what are we doing there? Why are we the world’s protector of the world’s free flow of oil? Why don’t the oil producers protect their oil? They are the ones making huge profits. Why do we have to subsidize Arab oil?

I think it perverts us. It leads our leader to pretend everything is great in Bahrain when it isn’t. It leads Hillary Clinton to say I am impressed by the commitment that the government has to the democratic path that Bahrain is walking on. when they are putting people in jail for misusing the right of free expression. 

 

 

They’re nice, and smart, and hip

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During a resent hearing on immigration reform, Senator Jay Rockefeller – of the West Virginia branch of the Rockefeller family – suggested that the United States is hurt by the depiction of techies in popular culture. I want to suggest that he is wrong. I want to suggest that techies – Rockefeller refers to them as STEM’s – are doing just fine.

I think what this Rockefeller doesn’t understand is that Hipness is defined by the people who are successful And techies are successful; Beyoncé is hip and so are Sergey Brin and Larry Page and, of course, Mark Zuckerberg. The first time I remember seeing that nerds were becoming hip was in the movie Peggy Sue Got Married in which Richard Norvik, a former class geek, became the richest and most powerful man in the room at Peggy’s 25th reunion.

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On my ferry boat ride to Vallejo a week or so ago, I sat near and talked to a young woman who was taking the ferry home after her shift as a security guard with ISI Security. She works as a security guard at high-tech companies like Apple and Google and, when I asked her if she liked working there, she said she loved it. When I asked her Why?, she said it was because the People were nice, and smart, and hip.

I was surprised because I fully expected her to say that they were nerds or geeks and that she couldn’t relate to them. I said something like They didn’t used to be hip, she said, Yes they were, we just didn’t know it. Well said.

 

Happy Mother’s Day

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Helené Rambow Stern Parsons 1909-1985

It has been over twenty five years since my mom died. She was not my Ideal Mother. In many ways, she was a very unhappy person and that often made her a difficult person to be around. But, I miss her. I miss her sense of style. I miss her sense of humor and her curiosity.

Mom-0027She was born and grew up in Oakland where she went to school until she was 16. Then her family said something along the lines of You are sixteen now, Goodbye (all the more remarkable because her father, my grandfather, considered himself an intellectual).

Mom-0028She became an adult quickly, was married at 17 and divorced soon after, married and divorced again, and married my dad in 1939. Sometime during that period, my mom worked as a model at Ransohoff’s.

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I don’t think that life was ever easy for my mom but she always had a sense of style. Happy Mother’s Day!

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Maybe it’s all a matter of attitude

Uhhh…that should really be Maybe it’s all a matter of altitude. Let me make a short story, long.

Michele’s sister, Claudia, was going to the family cabin at Squaw Valley and she graciously agreed to give me a ride – pretty far out of her immediate way – to get the Range Rover which was now back in Minden at Hollar’s 4×4.

As an aside, I had meant to post that on Monday but got the date backwards and told WordPress to post it on 06/05/2013 rather than 05/06/2013. I really left on Monday and got back on Wednesday. End aside.

Because Claudia was in Napa, the easiest way to meet her was to take the ferry to Vallejo. Michele dropped me off and I started my trip at the Ferry Building which has been remodeled – in 2003, under the Willie Brown administration – into a foodie paradise featuring local purveyors.

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In the back, the Ferry to Vallejo loads at a new pier.

Rover trip-0010I said Goodbye to San Francisco and about an hour later said Hello to Vallejo which is still devastated from the Navy pulling out (I think as a way for the Pentagon to punish California’s anti-war liberal Congress-members).

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Claudia picked me up and we headed to Minden under a darkening sky that turned to rain in the foothills and snow – with big flakes that didn’t stick to the road – as we got higher (passing blooming dogwoods in between).

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When I picked the Rover up at Hollar’s 4×4 and drove to Squaw Valley without the low coolant light going off even once, I felt very hopeful. Not hopeful enough to drive to Gerlach, but hopeful enough to think I would get home. Claudia and I spent the next day driving to Gerlach in her truck and, on Wednesday, I started home early so I could be home to let Precious Mae out (she had been locked in all night because Michele was now in Napa) .

When I fired up the Rover, in the cabin’s driveway, the low coolant level light started flashing immediately. This changed my chances of getting home, but I decided to give it a try anyway. I figured that there were two main obstacles: Donner Pass at  7,056 feet which I could go over slowly by taking the old road and Emigrant Gap at about 5,200 feet where I didn’t think there would be an old road to bypass the freeway.

After getting gas and a supply of anti-freeze, I drove around Donner Lake with Donner Pass looming, ominously, in the background.

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Donner Lake and Donner Pass are named after the infamous Donner Party (duh!, OK, probably only infamous in California). I figured, no matter what, my trip would be considerably easier than that experienced by the Donner Party in 1846. Considerably easier than working on the First Transcontinental Railroad when – primarily – Chinese  workers labored to get tracks through this solid rock landscape (today, it is hard to believe that all this work was done by hand, lots of hands).

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After taking a couple of hurried pictures from the side of the road near the summit, I turned back towards the car. Coolant was running out from under the engine. Not dripping, gushing. All I could think of as I ran back to the car was If I can just get over the summit, I can coast to a place to park where AAA can pick it up. I jumped in and started driving.

As soon as I got over the summit, I turned off the engine and started to coast. Ahead was a a little uphill section and then it looked like a long downhill and I was calming down, so I fired up the engine, and – watching the temperature gauge – got over the next bump. That pretty much went on until I got to Emigrant Gap where I stopped, let the Rover cool, and then poured almost a gallon of coolant into the reservoir tank. I called Michele and told her that I was not going to make it and I would keep her posted.

I went over Emigrant Gap at about 45 and coasted – off and on – to the Rest Stop at Gold Run. I stopped, washed my hands and sweating face, and decompressed. I was about 145 miles from San Francisco and our towing covers 100 miles so I thought I would see if I could get under the limit. This went on for a couple of hours, coasting downhill, crawling uphill at 45 until I finally got to the Great Central Valley. The I pulled off the freeway at a Park and Ride to add more coolant. It turned out that I parked next to the Placer Buddhist Church and I took that as a good sign. So I walked over to the Church while the Rover cooled. The Church was closed but the Koi in a pond- infront of the Church – were calming.

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I filled the coolant reservoir and it only took about a quarter gallon and I was off to see if I could get within 85 miles of San Francisco to give myself some breathing room on the towing distance. Then a funny thing happened: the Rover stopped spewing coolant. I checked in Vacaville even though there were no flashing lights, everything seemed fine and I kept going (at 45 on the Freeway!). I didn’t bother to check before I went over the Bay Bridge. I didn’t even bother to check  this morning when I fired up the Rover to go to the market. Still no flashing lights.

Michele’s theory, which I am completely buying into, is that the Rover problem is only bad at high elevations. This is because the pressure cap releases fluid at about 15 psi – pounds per square inch – and that is the differential pressure between the atmospheric pressure – outside the Rover radiator –  and the pressure inside the Rover cooling system. I have no idea what the pressure should be  inside the radiator, but let’s say it is 25 psi now. At sea level, the outside pressure is about 14.7 psi. That plus the 15 psi pressure cap is almost 30 psi at sea level, well over the inside pressure of 25 psi. Going over Donner, the atmospheric pressure is about 40% of sea level or 5.88 psi and that is not enough to keep the cap from releasing massive amounts of coolant.

Of course, the whole point of the Range Rover, for us, is to go to the mountains; to go over Donner Pass or, more importantly, Tioga Pass at  9,943 feet where the pressure is under 4 psi. But, if I stay at sea level until I do a restoration on the Range Rover, I may be OK. Or, maybe, it’ll be OK for the next week. We’ll see.

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