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24
May 15

The British Museum

(This is a long post with 15 cool photos and just over a thousand words. The last photo, I assure you, is worth the wait.)

Dressing up, because that’s how you do the big museums.

I wore a polo, because I don’t do big museums properly.

Tiglath-pileser III didn’t mind. He had other things on his mind. This is the capture of Astartu (in modern Jordan). The cuneiform says it was taken by King Tiglath-pileser, shown here in his chariot, under a parasol. The population was leaving under Asssyrian escort. This took place somewhere between 730 and 727 BC. He built the world’s first professional standing army and conquered much of the land they knew about at the time. One of the world’s great military rulers, he frequently appointed eunuchs as puppet governors of newly conquered lands. No dynasty. He shrank the provinces, reducing the power of his officials by reducing the size of the provinces.

This is part of the false door and architrave of Ptahshepses. Usually the Egyptian tomb doors focused on the afterlife, but this one tells how lived in this realm. He grew up at court, married the king’s daughter and lived through the next six pharaohs as a high priest for Ptah, the chief god of Egypt’s capital at Memphis and patron of artisans. He was also the senior priest of Ra in three sun temples. This is during the 5th dynasty, around 2400 BC. The stone was painted red to resemble wood, which was rare. Ptahshepses was also called “barber of the Great House” and the “manicure of the Great House,” great honors because his work required him to touch the pharaoh. It is said he got to kiss his foot, where most people had to kiss the ground because the king was a religious incarnation himself.

The history of decorative tiles dates to Egypt and Ancient Greece and at least to the 13th century BC in the Middle East and Sri Lanka on hugely important projects. They weren’t common, but the Byzantines and the Romans and in places like Tunisia and Iran they really hit their stride. Starting around the 10th century, tiles became more common in Western Europe, but they were still expensive. When the Moors invaded Spain things really picked up for the art form, the art and several of the techniques spread throughout Europe throughout the 16th century.

This is all going to be important in a bit.

But first, more about our friend King Tiglath-pileser III. This relief was in his palace and shows the sheep and goats captured in his campaign against the Arabs. The livestock were being driven back to the Assyrian camp:

Here’s a relief of the king. He’s got his ceremonial robes on, because he, too, wanted to be like Elvis. He’s holding a bow and his assistant behind him has more weapons. The king should be staring at two officials, but that part of the relief no longer exists. (They have drawings.) Tiglath-pileser may have had this in his palace, but it was also used by King Esarhaddon — his great-grandson — a half-century later.

It was hard to be a king. Esarhaddon was killed by his older brothers. Two of Tiglath-pileser’s sons also ruled. Two because of another familial coup.

But, if you were a succesful military campaigner like Tiglath-pileser, you got your share of war treasure. This relief showing a woman and herd of camels are more of the spoils of war he won during his reign.

But this was all in the 745–727 BC era. Let’s go even farther back into Assyrian history.

This is a guardian lion from the temple of Ishtar Sharrat-Niphi. It was 15 tons and is meant to represent the goddess of war. It guarded the entrance to Ishtar’s temple, installed between 865-860 BC. It was re-discovered in the 19th century.

The signage calls it fierce. That it guarded the temple is important.

Do you think it intimidated anyone?

How did the Egyptians do lions? So glad you asked. This is meant to be King Amenhotep III. The pharaohs were often shown as a sphinx, but this full lion image is rather rare. Amenhotep IV called the king a “lion of rulers, wild when he sees his enemies tread his path.” This dates to 1390 BC, but the lion and its companion piece were used by several rulers throughout history.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Rosetta Stone, a decree from Memphis, Egypt, mandated in 196 BC by King Ptolemy V. There are three scripts, three languages, Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, Demotic script and Ancient Greek. The text is basically the same, and that gave scholars the key to our modern understanding of Egyptian hieroglyphs.

Thought to have been on display in a temple, the stone was eventually used as building material of a fort. From there it was rediscovered in 1799 by a soldier, Pierre-François Bouchard, of the Napoleonic expedition to Egypt. In 1802 it became British property as a spoil of war. Since 2003 the Egyptians have asked to have it returned. So far, they’ve only received a replica. This is the real thing:

The supreme god Amun is portrayed here as a ram. That ram is protecting King Taharqo. Two cobras are symbols of sovereignty. This sphinx and others like it lines a road to the temple of Amun at Kawa. This is from the 25th dynasty, 690-664 BC.

This is supposedly a pair of protective spirits, a great lion or Ugallu/ This is Assyrian, from Nineveh, dating to around 700-692 BC:

Bronze tablets like this one were often placed on temple walls as dedications to gods. This tablet is said to describe an offering made to the Sabean god Almaqah after a successful grain harvest. A Tree of Life is surrounded on either side by sphinxes and date palms. It dates to the 2nd century BC of Yemen:

And, finally, this is a 4th-century AD mosaic floor from a villa in Dorset. It is an important Christian remain from the Roman Empire. This central portion is believed to be the earliest known mosaic of Jesus Christ. The Greek letters X and P (chi and rho) are the usual symbol of early Christianity. The pomegranates are meant to suggest immortality.

In the corners of the larger mosaic are four heads, thought to be Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. The mosaic was rediscovered in the 1960s.


23
May 15

The story of Billiter Street

Once upon a time Adam came over to see us. Being the history major that he was and the genealogy buff that he is, he has traced his ancestors migration to the new world.

He is descended from Richard Mynatt, who came over to the colonies from England in 1749. Mynatt, the son of a sailor, was a 20-year-old cook who signed a four-year agreement of servitude with Thomas Lee. He would go to Virginia and become the head cook of Stratford Hall, the birthplace of Robert E. Lee. (Thomas was his grandfather.)

When Thomas Lee died, Mynatt’s contract was passed to Philip Ludwell Lee. When Mynatt’s servitude was up, he asked for his freedom and the money he was owed. Philip said no, so Mynatt went to court. He became the first indentured servant in America to win his freedom in court.

Philip would serve in the House of Burgesses, but died before the Revolution. Two of his brothers, Richard Henry and Francis Lighthorse, signed the Declaration of Independence. Stands to reason that Mynatt knew them.

Now, Adam has been to Stratford Hall. He’s climbed into the attic space where Mynatt lived for four years. Some of his recipes are said to still be on file there.

But that might be about the only thing Mynatt left behind. He moved a few counties to the north when he gained his freedom in 1754. He started a family and later worked as a courier for George Washington, serving two tours of duty, in the Revolutionary War. Richard’s eldest son, William, is also on Revolutionary War rosters.

In 1787 Mynatt sold his Virginia land and moved the family to east Tennessee, where he bought several hundred acres of farmland. He worked as a doorkeeper for the Southwest Territorial House of Representatives.

He died in 1823 in Union, Tennessee and is buried there, in a family cemetery. He was 96 or 100 years old, depending on which record you like. He and his wife, Sarah, had 10 children.

Adam has been to the Mynatt cemetery. But he’s never been to where the ancestral roots began. Adam has found the document that showed Mynatt’s immigration and servitude. It lists the road where Richard Mynatt lived in England, in London.

Let’s find it on a map, we said, when he came to visit.

As these things do, one search led to a neighborhood, which led to looking over every street in the area and there it was. Billiter Lane is now Billiter Street. And it was very close to where we were.

So we went for a visit.

It is a small little road, and of course it looks nothing like mid-18th century London.

This is the oldest building on Billiter, and it is from the 1860s. No one Richard Mynatt knew when he left for the colonies would have ever seen this place. Nor would their grandkids. What I’m saying is, it has been some long time since Mynatt left.

It is a small little road. This is a photo taken while standing on one end of the modern Billiter. You can see the other end from here.

It was cool to see where it all started. A young man who left for reasons lost to history, worked hard and turned himself into a free man, a successful land owner in the new world. He worked on the edges of history and raised a family. And here’s one of his great-great-greats now, wondering where on this street an English sailor raised a future American cook.

And that’s the story of Billiter Street.


9
May 15

Brown shoes in my size, the second hardest thing to buy

This morning it was laundry. This afternoon it was errands. I had to buy shoes. Buying a specific kind of shoe in my size — and at a price I want to pay — is sometimes very difficult. This is one of those times. But, on the third store, I picked up some nice brown casual shoes that might feel comfortable.

Since we’ve started doing triathlons I’ve come to think of the comfort of my feet as a very important thing.

I also bought some new running shoes this week. I just eclipsed 400 miles in the old shoes and they were letting me know. Three times in a row I went for a jog that turned into an aching-calf shuffle. Well, you don’t have to tell me a fourth time. So that’s two new pairs of shoes in one week.

Didn’t get all of my errands done. The loafers took too long. So we’ll push that on to next week. Today there’s baseball. And then dinner, with friends. And we met our friend Sally Ann and her niece.

SA

We all dined with our friends Jennie and Jeremy, who we bumped into by chance:

TWER

Oh yes, I bought a selfie stick today. You’ll soon see why.


8
May 15

Last day of class

Last two classes of the term today. I gave a quiz consisting of when their finals were due and so on, the traditional end-of-term easy few points. I gave my not-at-all famous end-of-term speech. The brain is like any other muscle, I say, and you must use it. In our case, write. Write for publication. Write for yourself. Just write. Writers write.

There are a few other points in that speech. Thank you for your patience, I hope you’ve learned as much as I have. (I always learn a lot, even as the person leading the room.) Deadlines matter, I remind them. And I remind them again that it is OK to be passionate about where their interests are taking them, and so on.

In the second class a student pulled up Boys II Men and I tried to hit the back post of the song with the speech.

I forgot about the last chorus and missed the post.

But the speech is good.

Afterward, as I was wrapping up still more grading and various on-campus errands I ran into one of our students who is leaving us at the end of this term. He was there with his father. The student gave me a hug and introduced me to his dad. That’s not a bad way to wrap up classes.

And I got home just in time to shoot this from the car, hustling as I was to the ballgame. There’s nothing quite so nice as a good sunset on the plain. This blurry, out of the car window, cell phone shot isn’t representative of that, but the feeling of being home can’t be described in words or pictures anyway:

sunset

At baseball, it was time for rally sunglasses. Almost everyone in our section participated:

rally

Shame the rally sunglasses didn’t work. Ah well. Get ’em tomorrow.


6
May 15

End of the Crimson-year party

Two classes today. Stayed late to go over some things with a small handful of students before their final. Drove off to get the sandwiches I always buy at the end of the year: Roly Poly. Got stuck in traffic and when I got back on campus the end-of-the-year party was already underway.

We had two staffs in there this year, the outgoing and part of the incoming. It was a lively, chatty, fun affair. The has-beens told the up-and-comers secrets about the job. Some of them lingered and told stories about what it meant to them, which was lovely.

I walked them all to the door, and gave each one a little letter. Each one was different, but each said how thankful I was of the effort they’ve put in, how proud I was of the work they’ve done. I hope they are proud too.

And then there were just a few of us. And I realized that, with Sydney graduating, our newsroom lost its institutional memory of Purvis, the rock:

Crimson

The short version: On our way to a conference last year, Clayton, the then-sports editor, was reading interesting facts about every town in Mississippi we passed. Our favorite was Purvis, basically because of everything he read aloud from Wikipedia.

So on the way back from Purvis, and getting a bit punchy, we stopped there for this picture, Sydney, then-news editor, Zach, then-editor-in-chief and Clayton, who was the sports editor. Because we were punchy we dug up that chunk of asphalt from off the side of the road. Clayton or Sydney one named it Purvis. It now sits in a place of honor in the Crimson newsroom.

Crimson

And now they’re all off into the great wide world.

A little bit later Sydney walked out of the door. She was in the hallway looking in and three members of next year’s staff were in the newsroom were looking out. There was a joke or two and a bye and then she walked down the hall, through the fire door, down the steps and she was gone.

I closed the newsroom door. Emily, the new editor-in-chief who served so ably as the news editor this year, looked at me and we both took half-a-moment to compose ourselves.

And I thought, you get into all of this — the late nights, the too-cold office, dealing with people who don’t understand what you’re trying to do, thanking people who do understand, the good leads, bad headlines, working through stories you don’t care about, wondering each week what they left uncovered — you do all of this because you figure that you have something to offer students. It is something important, you figure, just as it was important when you learned the same things when you were in their place. It is important because the work they’ll one day do with it is important and civic and useful. And so, then, you are useful and maybe formative. And that is worth every 2 a.m. that you find yourself still in a cold office, because you are there for them. Only when you watch them go do you really realize what they did for you.

All of that was in my head as I cleared my eyes and watched Emily clear her eyes and then launched into the first meeting with the new staff.

I’ve taken to looking at this newsroom as both a laboratory and, these last two years, as a spectrum. Sydney and Zach and Katie before them started something these people will continue and improve upon. I have high hopes for that because here’s another group of young people who are sitting in the newsroom at 7 p.m. on the Wednesday of the last week of class.

That’s passion.