Capitol Building Research Articles

Music Therapy Advocacy for Professional Recognition: A Historical Perspective and Future Directions

The Merriam-Webster dictionary (2014) defines advocacy simply as “the act or process of supporting a cause or proposal.” Among healthcare professionals, advocacy can be a broad construct. It can happen on a micro level when a therapist helps a client access services (Dhillon, Wilkins, Law, Stewart, & Tremblay, 2010) or secure funding support (McCarty, 2009). Advocacy can also have an educational focus. This occurs on an individual level when, for example, one explains the importance of a particular profession and why it should be supported (Dhillon, Wilkins, Law, Stewart, & Tremblay, 2010; Mark, 2002), or an organizational level, as when an association launches a targeted public relations effort (Mark, 2002). There is also an aspect of advocacy that connects directly to legislative and policy issues, which occurs when an individual, group, or organization engages in lobbying efforts (Dhillon, Wilkins, Law, Stewart, & Tremblay, 2010; Palfrey, Cheng, & Schuster, 2011). Advocating for the music therapy profession is a cornerstone of the State Recognition Operational Plan (SROP), a national initiative developed and implemented collaboratively by the American Music Therapy Association (AMTA) and the Certification Board for Music Therapists (CBMT). Since its launch in 2005, the SROP has resulted in a growing number of advocacy-related initiatives, including continuing education training on being an advocate, social media-focused efforts, Hill Day events at State Capitol buildings, and concurrent sessions at regional and national music therapy conferences. To some, it may seem as if these AMTA- and CBMT-initiated advocacy efforts are novel; however, educating the public about music therapy and establishing its credibility has been an intentional focus since the founding of the National Association for Music Therapy (NAMT) in 1950 (Michel, 2000; Solomon & Heller, 1982). In fact, all of the music therapy professional organizations and certifying bodies have contributed time, energy, and resources to advocating for and promoting music therapy in the United States (Davis, 1999; Anne Parker, personal communication, January 11, 2014). The SROP is not a reactive, stand-alone plan, but is an initiative built upon the advocacy foundation created by music therapy organizations in previous decades. Understanding organizational history is valuable, as it can offer a broader perspective and better understanding of current happenings, and can serve to more clearly explain complex ideas and events (Heller, 2000; Solomon & Heller, 1982). Thus, in order for music therapists and music therapy advocates to better understand the focus on state recognition for music therapy and their role in the initiative, the intention of this article is to create a historical narrative of advocacy activities conducted by the music therapy professional and credentialing organizations, then connect them to current efforts and future trends associated with the joint AMTA/CBMT State Recognition Operational Plan.

House Community Pharmacy Caucus hosts provider status briefing

Abstract With assistance from APhA and other pharmacy groups, the House Community Pharmacy Caucus hosted a provider status briefing in the Capitol building in Washington, DC, on September 24. Attended by approximately 40 congressional staffers and pharmacy association representatives, the event focused on H.R. 4190.

“Fellow Cadets”—Charles Petigru’s Dedication of the Kościuszko Column at West Point

Abstract Born in South Carolina, Charles Petigru entered the United States Military Academy at West Point, New York, in 1825. No sooner had he arrived than Superintendant Sylvanus Thayer formed a committee of cadets to select someone to be honored with the first monument to be raised at the academy. Five cadets—Petigru, Robert E. Lee, Charles Mason, John MacKay, and E. Basinger—discussed the issue, quickly deciding upon Tadeusz Kościuszko, the engineering officer charged with constructing the fortress during the American Revolution, as the first person to be so honored. John H. B. Latrobe, a former cadet and the son of Benjamin Latrobe, whose architectural work included the U.S. Capitol building, submitted the design of a fluted column and pedestal that was accepted. The location selected was at the northeastern corner of the storied plain, where cadets drilled overlooking the Hudson River Valley. “While your river flows and Country exists,” Latrobe commented, “no one will be at a loss to understand the Monument, its purpose, and its location.” The $5,000 cost of the monument was funded by a monthly 25¢ levy on each cadet’s stipend. When finished, it would be the second-oldest monument to the Revolutionary hero after the Kopiec Kościuszki (Kościuszko Mound) in Kraków.

Touching Like a State

AbstractThis paper offers a theorization of how the state touches. Through an analysis of the extensive 2011 protests over Wisconsin Senate Bill 11, we interrogate the relatively non‐violent interactions between police and protesters during the 17‐day occupation of the Wisconsin State Capitol building. On display there were diverse police deployments of “soft” force and haptic touching, technologies that enabled officers to subtly affect the movements and relations of protester crowds without resorting to familiar coercion‐ and consent‐based politics. We offer a pair of concepts, cathexis and l'esprit de l'escalier, to diagram how statist touches were mobilized to catch individuals unawares and momentarily co‐opt their bodily affects. These modes of control suggest much greater savvy regarding touch, force, and affect than is often granted in representations of the state apparatus. In light of this, we close with a reflection on the changing tactical grounds for struggle.

Buildings of empire

Introduction 1. Dublin Castle 2. King's House, Spanish Town, Jamaica 3. Capitol Building, Williamsburg, Virginia 4. Fort St Angelo, Malta 5. Botanical Gardens, Christchurch, New Zealand 6. Gezira Sporting Club, Cairo 7. Kuala Lumpur Railway Station, Malaya 8. Vice-Regal Lodge, Simla 9. Royal Exhibition Building, Melbourne 10. Raffles Hotel, Singapore 11. Gordon Memorial College, Khartoum 12. British Empire Stadium, Wembley 13. Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank, Hong Kong Conclusion Bibliography Index

Breaking News: You Can Have New York for Free!

Back to table of contents Next article Annual Meeting NewsFull AccessBreaking News: You Can Have New York for Free!Aaron LevinAaron LevinSearch for more papers by this authorPublished Online:7 Mar 2014https://doi.org/10.1176/appi.pn.2014.2b36AbstractParks, museums, walking tours, historic buildings—there’s plenty to see and do in New York City without spending a cent.shutterstock_174338339.pngSean Pavone/ShutterstockSure, New York is an expensive city, but you don’t have to look far to find plenty of things to do for free.To start with, there’s New York’s bucolic crown jewel, Central Park, comprising over 136 acres of woodland, 250 acres of lawns, and 150 acres of lakes and ponds. But there are many other green spaces all over the city, including Brooklyn’s Prospect Park and Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx.A number of historic sites and museums are always free. To select a few at random:The African Burial Ground National Monument in lower Manhattan is where hundreds of Africans were buried in the 17th and 18th centuries. The 6.6-acre site was revealed during the construction of an office building in the 1990s.Federal Hall, on Wall Street, served as the first U.S. capitol building, the site of George Washington’s first inauguration, and the place where the Bill of Rights was officially passed. The original is gone, and the current structure was built in 1842 as the U.S. Customs House. Free tours are offered.Another founding father, Alexander Hamilton, built his estate at the other end of Manhattan, in Harlem. The Hamilton Grange is now nestled in St. Nicholas Park.The Staten Island Ferry at dawn or dusk is one of New York’s greatest free rides.NYC & Company/Malcolm BrownA sobering reminder of the origins of one of the city’s best-known immigrant groups is the Irish Hunger Memorial, an outdoor commemoration of the Emerald Isle’s great famine of 1845-1852, when more than 1.5 million people died. Inside the garden, near Battery Park at Manhattan’s southern tip, there are more than 60 types of flora from Ireland and a recreated 19th-century Irish cottage.Then there are the places that are free on the right day, at the right time. For instance, on Fridays from 4 p.m. to 8 p.m., the world-renowned Museum of Modern Art flings open its doors to all who choose to enter. On Saturday, head for the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and the Jewish Museum.Many other museums and cultural sites are open on a “pay-what-you-will” basis, leaving it up to the visitor to decide on the price of admission.Free Tours by Foot provides walking tours that give an intimate view of lower Manhattan, Greenwich Village, SoHo, Chinatown, Harlem, and many other storied locales. Their tours are officially free, but guests are invited to offer a name-your-own-price donation to the guides, who style themselves as a cross between professors and performers.Free sites to visit in New York CityCentral Parkhttp://www.centralparknyc.org/index.htmlProspect Parkhttp://www.prospectpark.org/African Burial Groundhttp://www.nps.govFederal Hallhttp://www.nps.govBrooklyn Botanic Gardenhttp://www.bbg.orgThe Jewish Museumhttp://www.thejewishmuseum.orgFree Tours by Foothttp://www.freetoursbyfoot.com/new-york-tours/Television shows:The Colbert Report Tapings: Monday through Thursday. http://www.colbertnation.com/ticketsThe Daily Show With Jon Stewart Tapings: Monday through Thursday in the evening. http://www.thedailyshow.com/ticketsGood Morning America Live on weekdays at 7 a.m. http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/mailform?id=12943471Late Night with Jimmy Fallon Request up to four tickets in advance by calling (212) 664-3056. Tapings: Monday through Friday at 5:30 p.m. (Arrive no later than 3:45p.m.) Late Show With David Letterman Tapings: Monday to Wednesday at 4:30 p.m.; Thursday at 3:30 p.m. and 6 p.m. http://www.cbs.com/shows/late_show/tickets/request/Today Show No tickets necessary. Go to 30 Rockefeller Plaza (between. Fifth and Sixth avenues. and W. 49th and W. 50th Streets.) Tapings: Monday through Friday, 7 a.m. to 11 a.m. More information: http://www.nycgo.com/tv-show-tapings/Staten Island Ferryhttp://www.siferry.com/http://www.nycgo.com/articles/a-day-in-staten-islandhttp://www.mta.info/nyct/service/pdf/sircur.pdfOf course, if you’ve always dreamed of going to New York and being on television, here’s your chance—if you’re lucky. Most shows have online ticket-request systems, but some also may offer walk-up seating. Check show websites well in advance. Shows also may have specific age, dress, or ID requirements. (See box for some choices.)Perhaps the biggest bang for your non-buck is one you can share with 60,000 people every day: the Staten Island Ferry. The five-mile ride across New York Harbor not only takes passengers to and from its namesake borough, but provides unparalleled views of the Lower Manhattan cityscape, Ellis Island, and the Statue of Liberty. One of the fleets’ five ferryboats leaves port about every half hour during most of the day, but departure intervals shrink to 15 or 20 minutes during rush hours. Go around sunset for a scene you will remember long after you leave New York. Incidentally, Staten Island is more than the St. George ferry terminal. Visitors can explore the island by foot, bus, or rail to visit myriad ethnic restaurants and sites like the Snug Harbor Cultural Center and Botanical Garden, home to 23 historical buildings, nine botanical gardens, and 10 acres of wetlands. ■ ISSUES NewArchived

Capitol Building from the East Washington DC, Xavier Vantaggi

Capitol Building from the East Washington DC, de Xavier Vantaggi 120 × 120 cm. Impression numerique contre-collee sur aluminium. Les carcasses rouillees d’un monde passe, il y a bien longtemps, longtemps apres l’effondrement des grandes cites, lorsque l’energie fossile etant venue a manquer, toutes les infrastructures furent paralysees et la ville abandonnee. Le tableau de Xavier Vantaggi, d’une effrayante meticulosite a la maniere de Jerome Bosch, impose avec violence, comme la peinture du ...

Public Historians: Histories, Communities, and Controversies

Public Historians: Histories, Communities, and Controversies Aaron W. Marrs (bio) Denise D. Meringolo. Museums, Monuments, and National Parks: Toward a New Genealogy of Public History. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 2012. xxxii + 207 pp. Illustrations, note on sources, notes, and index. $80.00 (cloth); $26.95 (paper). Amy Lonetree. Decolonizing Museums: Representing Native America in National and Tribal Museums. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2012. xxi + 221 pp. Illustrations, notes, bibliography, and index. $65.00 (cloth); $24.95 (paper). When I was a graduate student at the University of South Carolina, the Confederate flag was flying over the state capitol building just a few blocks from campus. At the time, debate was swirling over whether or not it was appropriate for the flag to fly there. Those who thought the flag should come down were appalled by the flag’s historical association with slavery and opposition to the Civil Rights Movement. Those who supported the flag argued that it represented “heritage, not hate”; they believed it paid tribute to the sacrifices of their ancestors during the Civil War. This controversy was highly charged because the capitol is the home to the state government, and as such represents the community of all South Carolina citizens. Thus, the debate over the propriety of the flag was in part an argument about what constituted the “community” of South Carolina—how is it defined? Who defines it? As a community, what stories do we want to tell about ourselves? Do those stories include the Confederate flag? For me, a student about to embark on a career in public history, the flag battle was the perfect illustration of how the distant past and contemporary politics can intersect. Moreover, it demonstrated that different communities can view their shared past in dramatically different ways. History is not just another classroom topic. It can be something deeply felt by Americans, particularly as it becomes intertwined with issues of personal identity. Public historians (a catchall term given to all historians operating outside of the academy) are acutely aware of how potentially explosive these debates can be. The most [End Page 680] basic tool of the historian—storytelling—is, of course, available to anyone and requires no professional training. What separates historians from storytellers are their professional obligations: historians tell their stories with (hopefully) judicious scrutiny of evidence, theoretical sophistication, and literary skill. Public historians have additional challenges, since their work is closely connected to the community they are serving rather than told from the distance of academic contemplation. If a community balks at hearing uncomfortable history, the historian can be caught between professional obligations and common understandings of the past popularized in the community.1 The two books under review here both consider the task of public historians working within particular communities. The term “public historian” encompasses a wide range of activities: digitizing paper archives, preserving significant buildings, designing museum exhibits, or performing research for a government agency, just to name a few. The term seems odd when compared to other fields of inquiry—I’ve never heard of a “public chemist” or “public anthropologist”—but public historians are often defined in opposition to their academic counterparts. Of course, public historians do have academic training, but public historians have spent decades fighting for professional legitimacy. For public historians within the academy, it has meant working to get their off-campus work to count for tenure; for others it has simply meant seeing their careers acknowledged as something other than a disappointing alternative to the “real” job of teaching at a research university. Denise Meringolo’s Museums, Monuments, and National Parks goes a long way toward correcting this characterization of public history, largely by rewriting public history’s past. Rather than seeing the development of public history as the result of university-trained historians casting about for work as teaching opportunities evaporated, Meringolo situates public history’s growth within the history of the National Park Service (NPS). The result is a story that has much deeper roots and that demonstrates the multidisciplinary beginnings of this particular branch of the profession. Meringolo begins her story in the antebellum era, when debates were ongoing about the appropriate limits of federal...

Whose immigration reform ?

On October 8, 2013, thousands of migrants, community activists, religious leaders, and “pro-immigrant” politicians descended upon the National Mall and the Capitol building to demand that the US Congress pass so-called “comprehensive immigration reform.” Although two hundred protesters were arrested during the action, the Chicago-based Moratorium on Deportations remained unimpressed, and released a statement in which it decried the current “immigration reform” movement as a “scam,” and the Se...

Horizontal Support Displacement of a Thin-Tile Masonry Dome: Experiments and Analysis

A half-scale physical model of a thin-tile masonry dome designed by Rafael Guastavino, Jr. that is located in the Nebraska State Capitol Building is constructed and tested both nondestructively and destructively to determine the load paths of the structure as well as the reactions at the support. A corner support of the model dome is incrementally displaced horizontally and the resulting crack locations are identified. Additionally, a linear finite element model of the dome, validated with experimental modal analysis, is modified to perform nonlinear analysis where loads are placed on the dome and the resulting stresses and reactions determined. The results from the nonlinear finite element model are then compared to the destructive testing carried out on the constructed physical model. From the results of both the nondestructive and destructive testing, it is determined that the thin-tile masonry dome in question acts as a pendentive dome, which exerts horizontal thrust as well as vertically transmitting a portion of the load to the supporting columns. Additionally, the results show that the quarter points of the arches and dome webbing pendentives experience the highest stress levels under both vertical loading at the crown and horizontal support displacement, and as such are the most susceptible to initiate the system failure.

‘An eye for an eye’: examining a cuneiform inscription on the Nebraska State Capitol

There is little doubt that the Nebraska State Capitol building is a masterwork of art, architecture, history and mythology (fig. 1). Its skin of Indiana limestone records the political and legal growth of human civilization with quotations from Plato, Aristotle and Native American oral tradition, and the figures of great thinkers and leaders from Solon to Napoleon, who laid the philosophical foundation of the modern world. The designers of the Capitol wanted these depictions to shroud the elements of state government, while exposing those who worked there to the legacy of which they were a part. If it were not for a shared history and theme, some of the faces and languages on the Capitol would seem a strange find in Nebraska. Perhaps one of the strangest is Hammurabi1 and the depiction of a portion of his famous Code. While Hammurabi, though probably not his stylized appearance, is familiar to many, the script carved near him is not. The inscription is cuneiform, the wedge-and-line script of several civilizations in the ancient Near East. While the script on the Capitol expresses one of Hammurabi's most famous laws, its depiction is not completely accurate, and the translation given in perhaps the best article on the symbolism of the building needs updating.2The Nebraska State Capitol, built between 1922 and 1932, stands 15 storeys (121 m) high in Lincoln, Nebraska, USA. When the previous capitol needed to be replaced, a Capitol Commission was formed to select an architect for what would be one of the largest construction projects in Lincoln at the time. The commission established principles to guide the project, namely that the building be a functional house of government, built with integrity and pride, and that it be:An inspiring monument worthy of the State for which it stands; a thing of beauty, so conceived and fashioned as to properly record and exploit our civilization, aspirations, and patriotism, past, present, and future; intelligently designed, durably and conscientiously built, and of worthy materials; and all beautifully and fittingly set, surrounded, embellished, and adequately furnished.During a competitive process, the commission selected the plan of the architect Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue (1869-1924). Goodhue did not, however, work alone: to address the mandate that the new capitol record the history of civilization, specifically the development of law and government, he engaged the sculptor Lee Lawrie (1877-1963). Lawrie, together with a professor of philosophy at the University of Nebraska, Hartley Burr Alexander (1873-1939), used what is termed 'architectural sculpture': 'The exterior sculpture, a major part of the symbolism on Nebraska's capitol, is best described as architectural sculpture. It is clearly intended to be subordinate to the architecture.'4Lawrie appreciated that architectural sculpture was a critical, almost foundational, element of the entire concept of sculptural art. He noted, 'the sculptures of Babylon, Egypt, Greece and even of the Middle Ages were made almost entirely for and on buildings. The art museum is a recent invention . . . and sculpture in early days was done for a reason.'5 The sculpture of the capitol had a mission to accomplish, and what Lawrie and Alexander did with the canvas of Indiana limestone was breathtaking. The Capitol Commission declared 'The Capitol of a State is the outward sign of the character of its people. Their respect for its traditions and history, their belief in its importance and worth, and their love of its fair name - all find expression in its Capitol.'6 And that is what Nebraskans received. The sculpture of the capitol is, as Alexander wrote, 'a book, logically arranged, with introduction, body and conclusion'.7 This 'book' records the stories of Minos, Hammurabi, Moses, Akhenaten, Solon, Solomon, Julius Caesar, Justinian I, Charlemagne and Napoleon, referred to collectively as the great lawgivers, along with elements depicting the ideals of culture such as history, reason and liberation. …

Populists, Dreamers, and the Citizens who Built Oregon's 1938 Capitol

In the midst of the Great Depression, the State of Oregon had to rebuild its Capitol after a 1935 fire. State legislators haggled over specifications, projecting the competing social and economic concerns of their constituents – urban and rural, businessmen and populist farmers – into the fray. Historian Floyd McKay recounts the sustained debates in Salem, with state figures such as Gov. Charles Martin and regional representatives like Grange-backed Peter Zimmerman. Following several pitched battles in the 1935 special legislative session officials deferred authority to another volunteer body, the Capitol Reconstruction Commission (CRC). McKay, who scoured the archives of local newspapers and CRC records, contends such citizen groups are instrumental to Oregon's experiment with direct democracy, and suggeststhat their import is evident with the creation of a unique Capitol building.

Populists, Dreamers, and the Citizens who Built Oregon's 1938 Capitol

In the midst of the Great Depression, the State of Oregon had to rebuild its Capitol after a 1935 fire. State legislators haggled over specifications, projecting the competing social and economic concerns of their constituents – urban and rural, businessmen and populist farmers – into the fray. Historian Floyd McKay recounts the sustained debates in Salem, with state figures such as Gov. Charles Martin and regional representatives like Grange-backed Peter Zimmerman. Following several pitched battles in the 1935 special legislative session officials deferred authority to another volunteer body, the Capitol Reconstruction Commission (CRC). McKay, who scoured the archives of local newspapers and CRC records, contends such citizen groups are instrumental to Oregon's experiment with direct democracy, and suggeststhat their import is evident with the creation of a unique Capitol building.

FADE AWAY

1 0 8 Y F A D E A W A Y J A M E S G O R D O N B E N N E T T Last month, my octogenarian father tumbled into a sand bunker after trying to reach a par five in two. The nine-hole course is inside the gates of his Florida retirement compound, and he can literally drive his electric golf cart home. Which he did. He also neglected to mention anything about his little fairway mishap to my Vietnamese stepmother. And if one of his playing partners hadn’t called to ask how the old soldier was holding up, Tuyen would probably still be in the dark. But as soon as she put the phone down, she had him dropping his plus fours. A bruise on his hip had already blossomed into a Rorschach inkblot, which my father, ever the stoic, tried to make light of (‘‘Looks like Scotland, the birthplace of golf’’). Two minutes later, the next-door neighbors saw what they thought was a giant bottle rocket shoot out of the carport. Tuyen had failed to unplug the electric cart’s extension cord and proceeded to run every light between their duplex and the compound’s emergency clinic. On Monday, I called the orthopedic specialist at the Veterans Hospital in Pompano, and he sounded so deferential that my heart dropped. I thought my father hadn’t made it o√ the table. ‘‘My uncle was with the General in Vietnam,’’ the doctor said. 1 0 9 R ‘‘Your father’s a legend. But then I’m not telling you anything you don’t know already.’’ He wasn’t. As an army brat I was forever being regaled with war stories by soldiers who’d served under him (‘‘the Ancient Naminers,’’ my sister Dale, the English major, called them). I’d be spraying shoes in the bowling alley when some Special Forces type would smooth a five-dollar bill out on the counter in front of me. ‘‘Ice in his veins. Nothing rattled him. We would have followed him into a fresh Cu Chi tunnel.’’ But the specialist argued that ‘‘going for the green’’ was only the proximate cause of my father’s injury. ‘‘You jump out of a plane as many times as he must have,’’ the doctor surmised. ‘‘Your acetabulum takes some pretty serious pummeling.’’ Shortly after my father was able to dispense with his walker, Dale called me with an update. ‘‘You won’t believe this one,’’ she said, sounding even more wired than usual. ‘‘They’re dropping ten grand on one of those educational package scams.’’ The V.A. Center o√ered overseas trips for veteran seniors. ‘‘And you’ll never guess where they’re going.’’ ‘‘Vegas?’’ ‘‘Jerusalem,’’ and then she paused as if the thought of the old man in the Holy City left her speechless. ‘‘I mean, let’s get real here. Daddy’s about as spiritual as Dick Cheney.’’ It wasn’t until I’d hung up that it registered on me why my sister had seemed so edgy over the phone. I’d forgotten about my brother-in-law, the anesthesiologist, being back in the doghouse. Dale had come across someone suspiciously listed as ‘‘RN Betty’’ in Michael’s BlackBerry. A private detective (recently on more or less permanent retainer) had developed an incriminating dossier on ‘‘Ms. Boop.’’ I waited until Tuyen reported that my father was once again swinging a golf club in the backyard before considering flying down to see them. That was when Anne, the woman I was living with, suggested that I should probably find my own place when I got back. I’d moved in with her right after I was let go as a middle school substitute teacher. Since my place was too cramped for a pet (she has a rescued greyhound) and hers has a great view of the 1 1 0 B E N N E T T Y state’s art deco capitol building (the one with Huey Long’s statue out front), I U-Hauled my stu√ over to her shotgun house in Spanish Town, a historic district with its own Mardi...

Rookie Ball, 1965

It had been two weeks since I had signed a minor-league contract with the Detroit Tigers; now, finally, I was on my way to Minnesota to play for the Dukes of the Northern League. The Dukes were an oddity, a joint Detroit Tigers-Chicago Cubs farm club with each organization contributing half the team's players. The Northern League was also unusual in having just four teams (Duluth and St. Cloud in Minnesota and Aberdeen and Huron in South Dakota). And unlike the other Class-A leagues, it didn't start play until late June with a schedule of just sixty-eight games, about half the usual number. As I boarded my United flight in San Francisco, I noticed an attractive flight attendant, half hoping she might take an interest in me. After all, I was now a professional ballplayer and she a pretty stewardess. But when I greeted her in the aisle, she merely responded, Hello, sonny. I dropped into my seat and waved goodbye to my dad who was still visible through the window. When I landed in Minneapolis, I was faced with a four-hour layover, and because there were no security check delays--this being many years pre-TSA--I took a shuttle into the city and visited the State Capitol building and an arts and science center, barely making it back for my flight to Duluth. Although I didn't realize it at that time, I was starting my career at the nadir of minor-league baseball's popularity. In 1965, minor-league baseball had reached an all-time low in the number of leagues (15) and the number of teams (118). Only fifteen years earlier, there had been 59 leagues with classifications from Class D to Triple A, and 438 franchises. With just as many American boys wanting to become professional baseball players as ever, the decreased number of leagues and teams intensified the competition for the limited number of roster spots in pro ball. The decline in minor-league baseball was attributed to the increasing number of Americans moving to the suburbs, away from inner city-based teams, and to the advent of window air conditioners which brought indoor relief in the summer and encouraged families to stay at home and watch major-league baseball on their new television sets rather than go out to a minor-league ballpark. It sure didn't feel like mid-June when I stepped off the plane in Duluth. A cold wind was blowing off Lake Superior and the temperature was in the low 40s; I was sorry I had left my jacket at home. On the way to the YMCA, where the ball club recommended players stay until we could find our own accommodations, the shuttle blew a tire and it took forever to get back on the road. It was dark when I arrived, and the Y looked old and run down. The desk clerk gave me a key and directions to my room on the third floor. The dresser had four drawers but only two knobs; I made sure never to close them all the way. A bare bulb hung from the ceiling. There was no decoration unless you counted the large abstract cracks on the walls. I located the bathroom down the hall by smell. Wanting to get my baseball career off on the right foot, I had arrived a day early in order to get organized and be fresh for our first workouts. I had never lived away from home before, my teammates were not due until the next day, and I was lonely. Nevertheless, as I wrote in my journal that night, I could hardly believe that I was soon to be a Duluth On a cross-country family car trip two summers before, I had stayed overnight in Duluth. I had seen the ballpark--which with its tall and massive brick walls looked more like a fortress than a stadium--and had quizzed our waitress at dinner about the team. It turned out to be the only team and minor-league park I would learn about on the whole trip from San Francisco to New York, and now I was going to be a Duke. When I awoke midmorning, it was still gray, cold, and windy. From the bathroom window, I could see whitecaps on Lake Superior. Putting on several layers of clothing, I left the Y to find breakfast and afterwards bought a world map and thumbtacks to cheer up my room. …

Is Jorge Amado the Gateway to Brazil, or Not?

In the national and international search for a Brazilian identity, we often say and hear that we are the country of soccer, samba, and Carnaval. This has given us a reputation as a party country, lacking commitment, a reputation reinforced by the economic interests of the entertainment industry. For a long time, particularly within the collective consciousness of the Brazilian people, the predominant perception has been that Brazil is not a "serious country" (many have said Charles De Gaulle was the first to use this phrase in reference to Brazil; however, Carlos Alves de Souza, Brazilian ambas- sador to France during the "Lobster War," cemented its use, and Annick T. Melsan demystified the idea), even though the Brazilian economy and the country's politics have begun to undermine this pejorative reputation. For most Brazilian intellectuals, especially those socially engaged in find- ing a solution to the country's disparities, this view of Brazil is tinged with a profound sadness that arises from the absence of an auspicious present and the distance from a redemptive future. This idea can be found in Paulo Prado's book Retrato do Brasil: Um ensaio sobre a tristeza brasileira (1928) (Portrait of Brazil: An Essay on Brazilian Sadness) and in Gilberto Freyre's classic essays marked by autobiographical witness in Casa-grande e senzala (1933) (The Masters and the Slaves: A Study in the Development of Brazilian Civilization (1946)) and Sobrados e mucambos (1936) (The Mansions and the Shanties: The Making of Modern Brazil (1987)). Additionally, Sergio Buarque de Hollanda in Raizes do Brasil (1936) (Brazilian Roots) and Visao do paraiso (1959) (Vision of Paradise) and Caio Prado Junior in Formacao do Brasil c ontemporâneo (1942) (The Formation of Contemporary Brazil (1967)) highlight "the cordial man,"

Preserving the Sense of Place: A Case Study of Hawaii State Capitol Building

By featuring buildings as pure objects, modern architecture neglects the implications of what happens in between buildings [1], which is resulting in the disappearance of character of the unique places. Hawaii State Capitol building is a symbol of modern architecture in downtown Honolulu, it adopts modern aesthetic and functional design to reflect the aspirations of a modern and progressive society, yet it is deeply rooted to Hawaiian tropical climate, natural landscape, multi-culture and history. The Capitol building has been merged within the building’s geographical context and culture context. It preserves the Hawaiian sense of place; fosters the sense of belonging for local habitants. The aim of this paper is to investigate how modern architecture can help individual find his place in the midst of nature and in the midst of community under the pressure of social and economic development by taking Hawaii State Capitol building as an example.

Group Effort Yields Licensure Victory in South Dakota

Group Effort Yields Licensure Victory in South Dakota

Michigan’s Public Square

Sociologist and photographer Steven Gold documents the public use of the Michigan Capitol building. He writes, “The Michigan Capitol continues to provide a space where attention is devoted to issues and events of broad public concern.”

The Arlington Cemetery Case: A Court and a Nation Divided

The Arlington Cemetery Case: A Court and a Nation Divided ANTHONY J. GAUGHAN Seventeen years after the Confederate general Robert E. Lee surrendered at Appomattox, his eldest son won a sweeping victory over the federal government in the United States Supreme Court. On December 4, 1882, the Supreme Court upheld a federal trial court’s ruling that the United States government’s claim of title to Arlington National Cemetery rested on an invalid tax sale. The Justices thus affirmed the lower court’s verdict that George Washington Custis Lee (“Custis Lee”), eldest son of Mary and Robert E. Lee, held legal title to Arlington. The Supreme Court also upheld the lower court’s decision to permit Custis Lee to bring suit against the government officers who occupied Arlington. On the latter point, the Justices split 5 to 4, with a majority ruling for Custis Lee. The outcome of United States v. Lee, commonly known as the Arlington case, made it clear that the Lee family, and not the United States government, owned Arlington. The Arlington case arose from a fascinat­ ing historical background. Prior to the Civil War, Arlington was a slave plantation owned by Mary Lee, the wife ofRobert E. Lee and the great-granddaughter of Martha Washington. The Lee family home—known as Arlington House—stood atop a sprawling, 1100-acre hillside estate along the Virginia side of the Potomac River. Arlington’s location provided its residents with a spectacular view ofthe na­ tion’s capital. But the qualities that made the Lee estate so attractive also posed a threat to the City ofWashington. ArlingtonHouse stood just over two miles from the White House and three and a half miles from the Capitol building; the estate property near the Potomac was even closer. If the Confederates had oc­ cupied Arlington, they could have rained ar­ tillery shells on the White House and other government buildings. Federal control of Ar­ lington was thus essential to the security ofthe nation’s capital.1 As the Civil War began, the Lee family home at Arlington stood in the line of fire between North and South. For three decades before the war, Robert E. Lee served as a ca­ reer United States army officer. But after the Confederate attack on Fort Sumter in April 2 JOURNAL OF SUPREME COURT HISTORY Mary Lee, the wife of Robert E. Lee and the great-granddaughter of Martha Washington, inherited Arlington House, a slave plantation that stood atop a sprawling, 1,100-acre hillside estate along the Virginia side of the Potomac River. Robert E. Lee’s bedroom is pictured above. 1861, Lee resigned from the U.S. Army and accepted a commission as a general officer in the Confederate Army. Lee’s decision to side with his home state of Virginia and the Confederacy sealed Arlington’s fate. On the night of May 24, 1861, 10,000 Union soldiers commanded by General Charles W. Sandford crossed the Potomac River from Washington D.C. and occupied the Lee estate at Arlington. When the Union troops arrived at Arlington House, they discovered that the Lees had al­ ready departed to Richmond. Only the family’s servants remained behind to be awakened by the soldiers.2 There was no question that the army had a legal right to seize the Arlington estate. The courts have long recognized that the President and the military have the authority to seize private property during wartime emergencies. In the 1851 case of Mitchell v. Harmony, the Supreme Court held, “There are, with­ out doubt, occasions in which private prop­ erty may lawfully be taken possession of or destroyed to prevent it from falling into the hands of the public enemy.”3 At the same time, however, the Court also emphasized that the Takings Clause of the Fifth Amendment remained in effect during wartime. However, as the Justices noted in their ruling in Mitchell, “Unquestionably, in such cases, the government is bound to make full compensation to the owner” of property seized by the military.4 Nevertheless, for more than twenty years after Arlington’s seizure, Congress refused to pay compensation to Mary Lee, Arlington’s legal owner, or her son and heir...