What happens when you are interested in a particular period in time?
If you like to read, you will be drawn to books about that era. When I
was writing
My American Eden,
I was tasked with researching Colonial America between the years of
1635-1660. It began when I found a tidbit in a history book about a
woman who walked into Boston with her shroud in hand. She walked to the
hanging tree twice, had the noose around her neck twice, and her face
covered with her Pastor’s handkerchief twice. A last-minute reprieve by
the Governor spared her the first time: the second resulted in death.
This story struck me as one that every American should know. Because a
law was passed banishing Quakers on pain of death, Mary Dyer challenged
it with her life. As I began researching the event, I quickly realized
that history is far from simple.
I found that perspectives differed depending on the author. Then
something else came to light. The story tended to change over time.
Quaker historians had one perspective, British authors had another, and
then American academia added more confusion to the mix. I began to
wonder if history is based on myth or fact and wondered how to find the
truth. Official court documents, dates and times, all came up with
discrepancies. Initially, I was obsessed with every detail. My first
draft ballooned to eight hundred pages. When I learned that Mary Dyer
traveled back to England and spent seven years there, I had to accept
the challenge of understanding the English civil war. The Puritans and
the Roundheads, the rise of Oliver Cromwell, and his destruction of
Parliament were vague recollections from high school. I turned to my
favorite historian
Sir Winston Churchill.
It was his description of a rising merchant class gaining sufficient
power to challenge the established ruling class that piqued my interest.
The more deeply I delved into the conflict, the more understanding I
gained of what unfolded decades, and then centuries later. I learned of
that the roots of the American Civil War stretched back to the events of
the 1650s. One side, the Royalists, eventually gravitated to Virginia
and the southern United States while the Puritans sailed to Boston. The
events in New England also had an effect on the American Revolution and
the founding fathers. Mary Dyer’s protests did not go unheeded. When
Charles II was restored to the throne in 1660, he immediately passed a
law forbidding such discrimination.
As we watch history unfold, try as we might, it is often difficult to
find the truth. When asked if history would be kind to him,
Winston Churchill replied
that it would indeed because he intended to write it. As a child
growing up in a military family in the post-war fifties and sixties, the
shadow of war hung over the conversations by the adults. Watching the
first reports of the news from Dallas, fifty-two years ago today, I had
nothing but questions. At that point in time, I was obsessed with the
Nancy Drew series.
Even in the midst of the emotional wallop that hit us all regarding the
assassination of the President, I sensed a murder mystery. People crave
a simple explanation, but I feel we must be sleuths. What could be
murkier than the events of November 22, 1963? One book leads to another;
facts are disputed, and some facts are indisputable. The deeper one
delves, the more confusion one is likely to find until at last the truth
emerges. Should we accept the fact that we will never know? I have
never thought so.
The Unspeakable by James W. Douglass and
The Devil’s Chessboard, by David Talbot have shed new light. Both books are thoroughly researched and beautifully written.
The final paragraph of the speech
President John F. Kennedy was to deliver in Dallas on Nov. 22, 1963:
We in this country, in this generation, are — by destiny rather than
choice — the watchmen on the walls of world freedom. We ask, therefore,
that we may be worthy of our power and responsibility — that we may
exercise our strength with wisdom and restraint — and that we may
achieve in our time and for all time the ancient vision of “peace on
earth, good will toward men.” That must always be our goal — and the
righteousness of our cause must always underlie our strength. For as was
written long ago: “except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh
but in vain.”
SOURCE: John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum
Two statues in front of the Massachusetts State House: One by Sylvia
Shaw Judson depicts Mary Dyer, and the other is Isabel Mcllvain’s
President Kennedy.
This week we will gather with friends and family remembering
those first families who came to the New World seeking freedom. Some of
us will pray for those around the globe who are fleeing terrible
circumstances and conflict. Hopefully, we will all give thanks for the
simple things: a roof over our heads, a warm house and a bounteous feast
on the table. I hope we will all remember to cherish freedom too.
From:
www.elizabethbrinton.com
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