Prisoners in Paradise

Natalie Crouter, a forty-six-year-old American wife and mother living in the Philippine Islands, sat down at the end of an evening in late October 1942 to write in her diary. She recounted a school pageant, which her two children, Fred and June, participated in, celebrating both Halloween and Thanksgiving. Natalie was especially moved by the Thanksgiving portion of the show, which retold the familiar story of the first Thanksgiving feast at Plymouth Rock. This year in particular, she felt a personal connection to the tale of people in a strange land worrying about food, getting along with an alien population, and just surviving.

Natalie ended her diary entry that evening lamenting that “we are waiting for America.” Her contemporaries may have regarded those five words as an opening phrase that would end “to win this war.” In the fall of 1942, Americans waited, hoped, and prayed for the United States to win its arduous battle against the Axis powers of Germany, Japan, and Italy. But American women did not wait in idleness. They expressed their patriotism and support for the war through action, taking up a variety of work ranging from riveting in airplane factories to enlisting in the armed forces to serving donuts and lemonade at USO socials.

In many ways, Natalie Crouter waited for victory just like other American wives and mothers. She kept a close eye on the activities of her two children, monitoring their progress in school, keeping track of their health, and discussing the war and its possible implications for their future.

A smart and resourceful woman, Natalie adjusted to doing without materials and foodstuffs, substituting new items into her family’s wardrobe and diet to replace the unattainable ones. She generally expressed optimism for a decisive Allied victory, but at times she despaired because it was taking so long.

The longer the delay, Natalie knew, the more likely she and her children, confined to a concentration camp, would die.

Coinciding with their attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, the Japanese struck at other American territories, including the Philippine Islands. The Americans living there were trapped. When the Japanese invaded and occupied the islands in January 1942, the Crouters became enemy aliens. To prevent sabotage and humiliate the Allies, the Japanese rounded up all Allied civilians, including women and children. The Japanese viewed them as hostages, valuable bargaining chips.

Natalie, her husband Jerry, and their two children were interned along with about five hundred other civilians in Baguio, a mountain resort city north of Manila on the island of Luzon. Altogether, close to fourteen thousand American civilians spent about three years as prisoners of the Japanese.

The Crouter family was relatively lucky, since they managed to stay in the same camp. But to frighten and demoralize their captives, the Japanese decreed “no commingling” and forbade families to live together. Natalie and the children lived in one barrack, with Jerry housed separately. Visits were allowed, but touching was limited. Family life was altered, strained, with the children struggling to adjust and make sense of their new reality. Fear was a daily companion.

The Japanese understood what they were doing. They not only had hostages, they had compliant hostages. The adults in the camps proved reluctant to overtly resist Japanese authority. Parents like Natalie and Jerry did not want to risk any retaliation that might be taken out on the children.

To find out what happened to the Crouters and other Americans, you can read

or my own,

978-0-7006-1003-7

which opens with Natalie’s story. The cover photo was taken in the Baguio camp, before the worst of the wartime deprivations took hold.

An edited version of Natalie’s diary was published in the 1980s:

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Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire

On Saturday, March 25, 1911, just before closing time, a fire started in the upper floors of the Asch building at 23-29 Washington Place in Manhattan.

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The Triangle Shirtwaist Company’s non-union shop employed about 500 workers, mostly young immigrant women from Italy and Eastern Europe.

trianglehbo.JPG HBO photo

They worked long hours under unpleasant conditions for minimal wages making shirtwaists, a popular clothing item of the New Woman of the early twentieth century.

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The fire, caused by a carelessly tossed match or cigarette, spread quickly through the various combustible materials on site. Many workers had no easy avenue of escape. Windows didn’t open properly, doors were locked, fire escapes didn’t function. In less than twenty minutes, 146 people died; all but 17 were women.

Image result for triangle shirtwaist factory

The best online resource about the Triangle Fire is the one maintained by the ILR School at Cornell University. It provides an informative historical overview and contains numerous primary sources, including photographs, oral histories, and a transcript of the criminal trial of the factory’s owners.

There are several good nonfiction books about the fire, including:

And there is one fine work of historical fiction about the fire:

In fact, Weber’s book is on my list of all-time favorite novels. It’s the very model of historical fiction for the way in which it evokes time and place while delivering memorable characters.

So pick up any one of these books to learn more about the fire. I recommend starting with Weber’s.

 

 

Women’s History Month 2018

This year’s theme is wonderful, both timely and historical:

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One of the 2018 honorees is a woman I admire very much, the lawyer/activist Pauli Murray. Here’s what the National Women’s History Project website has to say about her:

Pauli Murray was a civil rights and women’s rights activist decades ahead of her time. Facing lifelong discrimination based on her race and sex, she persisted and become an accomplished attorney, author, activist, academic, and spiritual leader.

Pauli Murray was extremely bright as a child, she finished first in her class at Howard Law School where she was the only female student. Despite her academic prowess, she was denied admission to UNC graduate school in 1938 due to her race and denied a fellowship to Harvard Law in 1944 due to her sex. She went on to be the first African-American awarded a law doctorate from Yale (1965) and later became the first African-American woman to be ordained an Episcopal priest (1977).

Murray was a critical figure in both the civil rights and women’s rights movements. In 1940, fifteen years before Rosa Parks, Murray was arrested for sitting in the whites only section of a Virginia bus. She coined the term “Jane Crow” referring to the intersecting discrimination faced by African American women and was highly critical of sexism within the civil rights movement. JFK appointed her to the Presidential Commission on the Status of Women (1961) and she was a co-founder of the National Organization for Women (NOW) in 1966. Many of Murray’s legal theories were decades ahead of their time and she is considered a pioneer of women’s employment rights. Her papers while a Howard law student arguing against segregation were used over a decade later in the landmark Brown v. Board of Education case (1955). Similarly, in the early 60s she argued that the 14th amendment forbade sex discrimination, a full ten years before the U.S. Supreme Court came to the same finding in Reed v. Reed (1971).

Pauli Murray died in 1985. The Episcopal Church honored her as one of its Holy Women in 2012. In 2016 Yale University announced it would name a residential college after Murray, and that same year her family home in Durham, NC was designated a National Historic Landmark by the National Park Service.

To learn more about Pauli Murray, I recommend:

and

 

The Final Semester

At the end of the fall semester, I showed this photo in my American women’s history survey to start a discussion about how women’s roles in the work place have changed over time:

Peggy Olson

Many of you probably recognize the character of Peggy Olson from the AMC show Mad Men. (A bit more about Peggy is in this blog post.) She started off the series like this, so you just know a whole lot happened over a few short years:

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I don’t have any photos that document my first day as a tenure-track assistant professor of history. And no one will take a picture on my last day in the classroom, which will happen sometime this May.

I’m pretty sure I know the last song I’ll play for my students. Here are a couple of hints:

Well we got no class
And we got no principals
And we got no innocence
We can’t even think of a word that rhymes
School’s out for summer
School’s out forever

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It hasn’t been a big secret, but I haven’t talked publicly about it much. I decided to retire.

This comes several years earlier than I had planned because of changes taking place at the university where I have worked ever since I earned my Ph.D. I always thought that when I did retire, a bright, energetic scholar would take my place. The torch would be passed.

torch passed

But my retirement won’t open up a job for someone else. At best, it will temporarily delay the non-retention of one of my junior colleagues as the department is downsized. On the campus where I teach, administrators have decided that a history major is not a priority. Increasingly scarce resources will be allocated to programs bearing that distinction.

Think about it. Considering what’s been happening in this country and throughout the world, history as a field of study on a college campus is not considered important.

There are good things about retirement.  For the first time in more than six years, I’ll cohabitate full time with my spouse. I’ll have all the time I want to write. I can take piano lessons again.

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In the meantime, I’ve set that top photo of Peggy Olson as my computer wallpaper. It will provide daily inspiration for all the possibilities to come in retirement.

 

 

Women’s March 2018

Today marks the second time since the beginning of this presidential administration that thousands–tens or even hundreds of thousands–of women have taken to the streets to demonstrate their political views. My Twitter feed has been full of glorious photos from across the country.

This participant’s sign harkens back to the very recent past:

(@DocGiani)

There is a lot of emphasis on women’s voting power:

(Chicago, @KarenLeick)

These Chicago marchers call attention to diversity:

(@WritesofMurph)

And here, well, here is an impressive crowd in New York:

(@kdqd3)

Right now, this is being reported as the largest public gathering ever in Texas:

(@AustinTX_NOW)

This young marcher in D.C. is promoting a political goal that is almost 100 years old. Alice Paul, head of the National Woman’s Party, conceived of the Equal Rights Amendment after women won the right to vote in 1920. The ERA was thisclose to ratification in the early 1980s before it failed.

(@Thoreaus_Horse)

American women know that taking their concerns public is a good way to get attention for their causes. In 1913, suffragists organized a massive parade in Washington, D.C., right before Woodrow Wilson’s inauguration.

Image result for 1913 suffrage parade (LOC)

In 1970, women marched to mark the 50th anniversary of the 19th Amendment and to show their support for the ERA.

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(Getty Images)

A new semester starts on Monday, and I will be teaching a course on the history of women’s rights and feminism in the United States. Seems to be a particularly good time for that.

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(Molly Adams, 2017)