Random San Diego History: Waldo D. Waterman

San Diego Air & Space Museum @ Flickr

Running an errand in the Banker's Hill neighborhood today, I chanced upon a monument to Waldo D. Waterman, apparently an early San Diego aviator who took some sort of flight from the top of a canyon in 1909. I was mostly interested to learn what manner of flight was accomplished from such a relatively low bluff (also, I like the owl graphic on the plaque). Turns out it was a glider flight. The photo above is of a young Waldo, presumably is a more sophisticated aircraft than the one he jumped into the canyon with in 1909. In case you're interested, here's more about Waldo.

Found Mystery Photos

One of the perks of being a historian married to a librarian is that we have both accumulated all manner of ephemera over the years, and sometimes we forget what we have. This weekend while looking for something else, we found a stash of old photos whose origins are only dimly remembered. We have no idea who the people in them are, or where they were taken (thanks to reader Mark, I now know that the bottom photo is of the Volcan de Agua, Antigua, Guatemala -- another photo from a somewhat similar perspective can be found here).

Stylin' Cop Steals Spotlight from Killer

Okay, that's not what the headline really says, but check out the sheriff's deputy (?) escorting convicted Chicago family-killer Patricia Columbo into court back in 1976. That man has got some serious style. Damn!

via Chicago Tribune

Are These 19th c. Roller Blades?

Certainly looks like it. These were big in the 1860s based on the number of ads I saw for them. Every issue of Harper's Weekly and Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper that I looked at between 1860 and 1865 had ads featuring this illustration.

Imaginary Airships of the 19th c.

"Different Systems of Sailing in the Air"

[click for larger to read the original caption]

Image from Harper's Weekly, January 2, 1864

Let's Try This Again

My last post was about how I was going to start using DRFN to write more. And I followed that up with a week of nothing. So, let's try this again. It's beginning to dawn on me that I don't care much for the short essay format of much blog writing. I'm an academic, so I'm used to writing a lot about a little, not a little about a lot. But I'm going to try to work through it. Brevity and forthrightness are virtues that more academics need to embrace, myself included. As a friend of mine says, "it would have been shorter if I'd had more time."

That being said, I don't have anything in particular to write about today. I'm finishing Ted Conover, The Routes of Man: How Roads are Changing the World and How We Live Today, and I'm starting Peter Norton, Fighting Traffic: The Dawn of the Motor Age in the American City. I've been thinking a lot about streets and vehicles for two projects I'm working on.

I've also been combing Harper's Weekly and Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper from the 1860s for cover art options for my book out this fall. I'll have some fun random tidbits to post from them pretty soon. I've also been reviewing and working on addressing issues from the copyeditor's draft of the book, which is making me neurotic.

Plus, a bunch of other stuff, including bike advocacy, which I'll probably write about soon.

I've been listening to Sun Kil Moon for a couple of weeks now, and my wife and I have been going on more bike rides since we bought her a nice light(er) 1980s Univega mixte to replace her 400-pound 1970s Schwinn Suburban.

So anyway, that's it. Good times!

The Daily Grind

For whatever reason, all of my writing projects are currently in non-writing stages. I'm finding that the old artist's maxim "a line a day" is getting hard to do in any sort of productive way on my work projects, so I'm going to start using DRFN as a writing space in order to keep my knives sharp. How's that for a mixed metaphor?

Inevitably, since I don't find myself having profound, well-ordered thoughts that lend themselves easily to short essays every day, this will inevitably involve writing about some of the mundane tasks and thoughts that occupy me on a daily basis. I don't anticipate using this as a "confessional" space -- I don't think anybody wants that -- and I will also make an effort not to let my posts devolve into just stream-of-consciousness writing. Of course, the golden rule of putting stuff on the Internet will also be followed: don't post anything you wouldn't be comfortable standing up and shouting in a public square.

If this doesn't sound appealing to you, that's fine, just don't read the posts that look boring or dumb. You have the power!

Anyway, that's that.

Oh, also, I'm going to be changing the look of the page again. I'm going even more minimalist (even more less -- ha!). I just started a photo blog called bikes in the house, which is going to be kind of what I'm going for with DRFN, style-wise, if you want a preview. Also, it's the source for pictures of bikes in the house, FYI.

Milagro

As The Frenchman settles in to being my daily rider, I decided I wanted to add some unique bits to personalize the bike. I remembered that a while ago we had purchased some small charms from a bead shop, and when I dug them out and did a little research, found out that they are Latin American milagros (miracles), little charms that evoke various protections or prayers, depending on the shape of the charm. The one I chose to hang on my bike is the leg, which represents (according to the websites I could find that explain the symbolism):  one's strength, and the concept of travel, such as walking, a journey, or even the prayer involved in daily travel. Perfect right?


Here's the weird part. On my first ride to the grocery store with the milagro hanging from the bracket that attaches my bell to the stem, the leg would occasionally swing over and ding the bell. Probably 40%-50% of the time, this happened at a moment when it would have been a good idea to ring the bell, mostly in situations where I wanted to make sure people knew I was there. The rest of the time, it just dinged randomly, but the fortuitous coincidences were frequent enough that it did seem as though the charm was  giving me some protection. Am I going to rely on the little guy to keep me safe? Definitely not, but it's nice to have a little backup.

Green Scene

@ Mission Trails Regional Park.

JJJJound

The excellent image blog JJJJound has recently posted another huge batch of images. The site is an homage to aesthetics, emphasizing design, architecture, fashion, and the small or grand beauties we see around us every day. I look forward to browsing each new batch, as there is always something inspiring or interesting. Be fairly warned, though, some of the images on the site are not safe for work or mixed company. But if you have a mature sense of beauty and can handle the occasional nekkid lady or dude, you'll be fine. The only frustrating thing is that the images are unattributed and carry no explanations. For instance, I would love to know where the photo above was taken and what's going on there.

Onguent for the Hair & Whiskers

From a mid-1860s advert in Harper's Weekly.

From Horses to Cars: Chicago in 1894 and 1923

One Chicago block in 1893. Yellow designates stables for horses.

In the process of cleaning up and organizing things during our move, I came across some material from a grad school paper I wrote for a historical geography class examining the physical transformation of a micro-neighborhood in Chicago as automobiles replaced horses as the dominant mode of urban transportation. I used Sanborn fire insurance maps to locate buildings designated as stables in 1894 and automobile garages in 1923.

Zooming in to just one block of the micro-neighborhood reveals the extent of the transformation (note that May Street became Mildred Avenue by 1923). There were only 7 horse stables in the block in 1894, but there were 22 automobile garages in 1923. Click for a larger version of each map to make out the highlighted portions.

The same Chicago block in 1923. Yellow designates automobile garages.

If I had the paper to do over again, I would add a comparative census analysis to determine whether the neighborhood had gentrified during this period. In other words, were the people with comparatively few horses in 1894 the same people who had so many cars in 1923? My guess is no.

Anyway, interesting stuff, thought it was worth sharing.

Lovely Vintage Miele Bike

Spotted on our local Craigslist. The ad says mid-1940s, and I wouldn't be surprised. Just gorgeous. Outside of my budget, though.

Afternoon Light

{click to embiggen}

I had my bike sitting in the living room this afternoon while I was working and happened to look up and see the late afternoon sunlight falling on it. It looked nice, so I took a photo. The black thing looped through my saddle rails is a length of chain wrapped in an old inner tube, which runs under the seat stays and secures the saddle to the frame. Makes it a little harder to steal the saddle off the bike.

Still in the Wrapper

Took a ride down to Chula Vista today on a portion of the Bayshore Bikeway. On the near side of the bay it mostly goes through an industrial area. I always see something here that creeps me out. The first time was a marching band standing on a deserted sidewalk playing for nobody. This time it was these new cars (Audis maybe?) all wrapped up in these covers. There were hundreds probably, both on and off of trucks. I don't know why, but they seemed really sinister.

USS Midway Museum Photo Essay

For OldFool:

March of the Fungi

Moss Knot

Sheep Muzzle

Happy Holidays!

Whichever one(s) you celebrate, from Bikesgiving to Bikesmas, Bikezaa to New Bikes Eve.

More from the Tweed Ride

Velo Cult Bike Shop has an amazing photographer (and jack-of-all-trades) on their staff who shoots the tweed rides. His photos benefit not only the shop, but the entire San Diego cycling community. They have posted the official photos from the ride at their shop blog, including this great one of me. That's my wife in the foreground, so it's actually kind of a sweet photo, since I'm pretty sure that I'm heading over to her.

Photo: Anthony Bareno for Velo Cult.

Getting Closer All The Time

The Frenchman with fenders (Velo-Orange 700c/37mm hammered fenders). Ideally, the next bits will be front and rear racks, but it may be some time before that happens. Fenders were really the final step in what I consider Phase I for this project. The bike just seemed naked without them. I've had these on for about a week now and I think I've finally got all the little rattles eliminated. I'll take some glamour shots of the whole bike one of these days.

Oh, and that's our new dining room it's hanging out in. I'll take some glamour shots of the new house one of these days, too.

San Diego Tweed Ride 2010

A few choice photos from this year's Tweed Ride. We had over 120 participants this year! More photos are being posted here.

{this photo of me cropped from one taken by SD_yoshi on Flickr}

On Movement as Grace

This post is not as grandiose as its title, but it begins to engage some larger ideas I've been thinking about.

Our recent move from one San Diego neighborhood to another was accomplished in increments over about two weeks. We were fortunate enough to have a large window in which to move, so instead of throwing all of our stuff into a rented truck on one day, we were able to take all of the boxes and small things in a number of car trips, saving the actual Moving Day for the large stuff that wouldn't fit in the car.

We also took a number of donation items to the San Diego Rescue Mission thrift store and made several trips to the hardware store and to other stores. Most all of the stuff we either picked up or dropped off was too large or oddly-sized to take on a bike. With a bit of ingenuity and a little extra time, we probably could have made more of it happen by bike, but we were short on both, so the car was easier.

The car worked better for the kind of stuff we were hauling and the kinds of errands were were running. It could carry more stuff more efficiently than we could on our bikes. I'm always impressed by moves accomplished by bike, and in some situations they seem to work quite well. In our case, however, I'm quite certain that a bike move would have been more trouble and stress than it was worth.

In our multiple car trips we saw a lot of very bad driving (and a bit of bad cycling as well). But more than anything I noticed the large number of people riding bikes. What struck me most about almost all of the cyclists we saw is that they looked like they were having a great time. While I was getting stressed behind the wheel, I couldn't help but notice the free and easy movements of the cyclists.

So the car was the right mode choice for our move on a purely practical basis, but I couldn't help feeling like a chump for not getting to ride my bike. Driving made me feel dependent, slow, clumsy, stressed, and vulnerable. Moving in a car is not graceful, I can't think of any way that it could possibly be described that way. But the cyclists were gliding independently, quickly, nimbly, freely, and yes, gracefully. Perhaps it's a bit romantic of me -- since the bicycle is obviously my preferred mode of personal transportation -- but from the car, I saw the cyclists moving in what might be called a transcendent state, traveling on the same roads, but traveling differently (indeed, transcending) the limitations I found myself subject to (I do not mean legal limitations, but more intangible physical limitations imposed by the machine in which I was immersed).

Now that the move is finished, I've been doing more errands by bike again, and I'm certainly more aware of how I'm moving through my environment. When I've been riding a lot, I tend to forget (or if not forget, then at least take for granted) how special it is to travel by bicycle. Nothing like a few extra car trips to really drive (harr-harr) that lesson home.

Balboa Park by Night

My wife took this amazing photo last night while we showed some friends around Balboa Park. I did a little editing in iPhoto to bring out the clouds, but that's it. To me, this looks just like an early 20th c. postcard.