Lead levels, violent crimes, and Kephart: a connect?

Tetraethyl lead is an extremely toxic substance that, in minute quantities, improves the efficiency and performance of internal combustion engines. From “Tetraethyl Lead,” http://heritage.dupont.com/floater/fl_tel/floater.shtml

Good for engines it may have been (eliminates piston knock), but research has strongly shown that even small levels of lead, especially in children, can result in lowered intelligence and impulsive and agressive behavior.

In an article called “Criminal Element” in the Oct. 21 New York Times Magazine, writer Jascha Hoffman cites a paper by Jessica Wolpaw Reyes, just published in the B.E. Journal of Economic Analysis and Policy. Reyes, and other researchers, studied data which suggest a link between the sharp drop in Americans’ blood levels of lead after the Clean Air Act mandated lead-free gasoline in the 1970’s and ’80’s, and a drop in criminal behavior rates, particularly violent crime. Was getting the lead out of gasoline a factor in the drop in crime? It might be, according to what Hoffman calls a “new environmental theory of criminal behavior.”

Reyes, an economist at Amherst College, says the answer to the question of why crime declined so sharply in the early 1990’s, when experts anticipated a huge crime wave, “lies in the cleanup of a toxic chemical that affected nearly everyone in the United States for most of the last century.”

According to global statistics, Hoffman writes, “Crime rates around the world are just starting to respond to the removal of lead from gasoline and paint.”

I recall seeing, in 1950s issues of popular magazines like Life, full-page advertisements from, I think,  the Ethyl Company, extolling the virtues of lead in gasoline. The ads featured happy, smiling families, motoring along in their new Oldsmobiles through the tranquil countryside, with purring engines and tanks full of leaded gas.

There are, of course, sceptics.

So what’s the connection with Kephart?

OK, I’m reaching here. But in the 1916 edition of his Camping and Woodcraft, perhaps Kephart had premonitions of what modern industrial life foretold for human health. Quoting (but not citing, unfortunately) William Morris from his The Earthly Paradise, Kephart wrote:

“…Basking and sporting in the great clean out-of-doors, one could, for the blessed interval,

Forget six counties overhung with smoke,
Forget the snorting steam and piston-stroke,
Forget the spreading of the hideous town.”

Why read Kephart? Who cares?

Horace Kephart died in 1931. A long time ago. Why would anyone still be interested in another dead white guy woodsman writer? A guy who liked to go camping and loafing in the woods with his friends, roast a wild turkey stuffed with chestnuts before a high bank of hardwood coals, and have a noggin or two of the local ’shine?

Well, first, he’s just fun to read. Kephart is an engaging, sympathetic writer with an often elegant style, a love of detail, and a dry sense of humor. These attributes set him apart from many writers of his time and of ours, for that matter.

And we read him because the subject matter is still interesting. Not everyone likes to browse through old back issues of Field and Stream and Outdoor Life in the library, just to see how it was to fly fish for trout with a split-bamboo rod rather than space station graphite carbon-fiber, or sleep in a canvas tent in a blanket roll. But there’s something to be said for looking back at simpler times in the woods, and a cadre of devotees identify with their great-grandfathers’ experiences. Even if Kephart’s advice in some cases is dated , the fundamentals are sound and timeless (“Ideal outfitting is to have what we want, when we want it, and never to be bothered with anything else.”)

Camping and Woodcraft still appears regularly in the “must-have” lists of survivalists of all stripes:

“Kephart’s book is the real old-timer’s bible and, even though most of the equipment mentioned is obsolete, it is still among the first outdoorsmanship books one ought to own.” –Notes from a survival sage, http://www.jerrypournelle.com/reports/jerryp/Survive1.html

We read him to share his attractive vision of what we could think of as “the ideal life” of the vacation camper, roaming the forests, free from the daily grind of a job, and with “unrestrained liberty of action, and the proud self-reliance of one who is absolutely his own master, free to follow his bent in his own way. . . .” His themes are contemporary–and perhaps even more relevant today than they were in his own time. His “Visions of green fields and far-rolling hills, of tall forests and cool, swift-flowing streams” especially resonate today, because the fields and forests and streams are disappearing, and you’ll need permits to ramble in what’s left.

His work gives us a perspective on a bygone era of the outdoors, when a hiker could build a campfire and cut balsam boughs for a bed with no concern for decimating the forest (there weren’t enough hikers to make a dent). Kephart appreciated the value of being not just capable but comfortable in the woods. And for the historical outdoor gear-head, his books and articles provide a fascinating view of the evolution of outdoor gear.

Kephart wrote more than books and articles about camping and woodcraft. His book about his neighbors in the Southern Appalachians, Our Southern Highlanders, for example, is still in print. And for those in my profession, librarianship, who are interested in the arcane history of our discipline, his writings on being a librarian in the last decade of the 19th Century are a rich glimpse into our past.

And Kephart is a Man of Mystery. Seventy-five years after his death, he is still a mysterious figure. He was not especially forthcoming about himself, and not a great deal has been written about him, given his prominence in his day. The closest thing he wrote to an autobiography is a four-page article that appeared in the North Carolina Library Bulletin in 1922, in which he teasingly sketched his life with a few broad strokes, and ends the piece by writing, “. . . Much . . . has been left out. . . . The best stories are those that are never told.”

How different from our age, when we routinely blog our innermost thoughts for a potential audience of how many millions, and all the evidence of this solitary unveiling of our souls could disappear in a random rush of wayward electrons.

The contemplative man’s recreation

Izaak Walton’s enduring book about fishing, fish, and the fisherman, is now over 350 years old.

Published first in 1653 as The Compleat Angler, or the Contemplative Man’s Recreation , it has provided assistance and comfort to three and a half centuries worth of fisherpersons. The language is heavy going for today’s readers, but the book has a particular Chaucerian charm and lilt if taken in small doses.

Kenneth Lavender of the Syracuse University Library, at

http://library.syr.edu/information/spcollections/bkomonth/april2002/, wrote,

“What has caused the enduring popularity of this leisurely book on fishing? When it was first published it offered a refreshing antidote to the excesses of the Puritan government then in power in England. Walton’s simple writing style and genial personality reminded readers of better times. This genuineness of spirit has drawn countless later readers whose daily lives are marked by machines, wars, deprivations, and the ‘rat race.’ It is not a guide on how to fish, but on how to enjoy fishing. Fishing is an art: ‘Oh, sir, doubt not that angling is an art. Is it not an art to deceive a trout with an artificial fly?’ But, even more to Walton, it is also the perfect reason for the true contemplation of nature….”At the Syracuse website you can see a portrait of Walton, reclining under a tree in what were his fishing togs, or maybe not (they look pretty uncomfortable), with rod and creel.

Readers of a later century would be similarly drawn to Kephart, Nessmuk, and their ilk, who also wrote for the “readers whose daily lives are marked by machines, wars, deprivations, and the ‘rat race.’ “

Here is Walton’s own summary of the 13 chapters of his book, which can be downloaded full-text from the Project Gutenberg website at http://www.gutenberg.org/:

“The first Chapter is spent in a vindication or commendation of the art of Angling.

“In the second are some observations of the nature of the Otter, and also some observations of the Chub or Cheven, with directions how and with what baits to fish for him.

“In chapt. 3. are some observations of Trouts, both of their nature, their kinds, and their breeding.

“In chap. 4. are some direction concerning baits for the Trout, with advise how to make the Fly, and keep the live baits.

“In chap. 5. are some direction how to fish for the Trout by night; and a question, Whether fish bear? and lastly, some direction how to fish for the Umber or Greyling.

“In chap. 6. are some observations concerning the Salmon, with direction how to fish for him.

“In chap. 7 are several observations concerning the Luce or Pike, with some directions how and with what baits to fish for him.

“In chap. 8. are several observations of the nature and breeding of Carps, with some observations how to angle for them.

“In chap. 9. are some observations concerning the Bream, the Tench, and Pearch, with some directions with what baits to fish for them.

“In chap. 10. are several observations of the nature and breeding of Eeles, with advice how to fish for them.

“In chap. 11 are some observations of the nature and breeding of Barbels, with some advice how, and with what baits to fish for them; as also for the Gudgion and Bleak.

“In chap. 12. are general directions how and with what baits to fish for the Russe or Pope, the Roch, the Dace, and other small fish, with directions how to keep Ant-flies and Gentles in winter, with some other observations not unfit to be known of Anglers.

“In chap. 13. are observations for the colouring of your Rod and Hair.”

Happy reading. I’m going to check out Walton’s observations for the colouring of my rod and hair.

Captain Kenealy’s 1899 recipe for moose ragout

Horace Kephart wrote once that he hated cooking, but he felt someone had to write a cookbook about outdoor cookery, so he did it. His Camp Cookery was published in 1910 by Outing Publishing Company.

I myself haven’t hunted moose in years, but since we’re in the late stages of moose hunting season and there may be cooks open to new recipes, I offer up the following not-so-new recipe from Kephart’s book, page 60 of the second edition, 1910. Kephart attributes the recipe to a Captain Kenealy, author of Yachting Wrinkles, Outing Publishing Co., 1899. I haven’t tried it on moose, but it sure works with beef, and it has a distinctly great-grandmotherly air to it. It was not uncommon to use sugar in dishes such as this, and Captain Kenealy suggests the use of the turnip, a root now generally neglected though luckily still obtainable at our local produce counter.

“Stewing is an admireable way of making palatable coarse and tough pieces of meat, but it requires the knack, like all other culinary processes. Have a hot fry-pan ready, cut the meat up into small squares and put it (without any dripping or fat) into the pan. Let it brown well, adding a small quantity of granulated sugar and sliced onions to taste. Cook until the onions are tender and well colored. Then empty the fry-pan into a stew-pan and add boiling water to cover the meat, and let it simmer gently for two or three hours. Flavor with salt, pepper, sweet herbs, curry powder or what you will. The result will be a savory dish of tender meat, called by the French a ragout. It is easy to prepare in this way. Do not boil it furiously as is sometimes done, or it will become tough. This dish may be thickened with browned flour, and vegetables may be added–turnips, carrots, celery, etc., cut into small pieces and browned with the meat. The sugar improves the flavor fastly. The only condiments actually necessary are pepper and salt. Other flavorings are luxuries.”

Thank you, Captain Kenealy. If someone has some moose to to spare, I’d give this a try to share. Bon appetit!

Incidentally, Camp Cookery is now available in a reprint edition from Algrove Publishing Ltd, 2003, ISBN 1-894572-71-8.

Philip R. Goodwin: Outdoor art from Kephart’s era

One of the more popular outdoor artists of Kephart’s time was Philip R. Goodwin, 1881 – 1935. A splendid collection of his art from the “Golden Age of American Illustration,” originally published in 2001 by Coeur d’Alene Art Auction and Settlers West Galleries, is being re-published this month by Mountain Press Publishing Company:

Philip R. Goodwin: America’s Sporting and Wildlife Artist

By Larry L. Peterson and Brian W. Dippie
ISBN 0-87842-540-3

http://mountain-press.com/item_detail.php?item_key=401

Goodwin produced what was known as “cabin art,” which often depicted hunters, cowboys, Indians, fishermen, and the camping life. His art was published as calendars, magazine illustrations in National Sportsman, Saturday Evening Post, and others, and was seen in gun and ammunition advertisements, including those by Winchester.

A biographical article called “Goodwin’s Life: An Illustrated Adventure” by Erin Anderson can be read at http://www.tfaoi.com/aa/6aa/6aa209.htm

Anderson writes that “[Goodwin] was an avid sportsman and outdoorsman and befriended Charles Russell, N.C. Wyeth, Carl Rungius, Theodore Roosevelt, Will Rogers, and Ernest Seton Thompson.”

If I could just confirm that Goodwin and Kephart were friends, it would be too sweet.

Samples of his paintings, and several by other “cabin artists,” can be found at http://studio7b.com/vintage-art-prints/cabin-art.html

And now, Horace Kephart

Since the point of this blog is Horace Kephart, that old librarian, naturalist,  and writer about the outdoors, here’s a bit about Himself.

Horace Kephart (1862-1931), called by a critic of his time “The Dean of American Campers,” was one of the best-loved writers of that exuberant era of American outdoor writing between the end of the Civil War and the beginning of the Great Depression. Besides Kephart, those writers include, among others,George Washington Sears (writing as Nessmuk),  Daniel Carter Beard, Ernest Seton-Thompson, Stewart Edward White, Albert Bigelow Paine, Warren Miller, William Long, and Theodore Roosevelt.

Kephart’s first book, The Book of Camping and Woodcraft, published by Outing Publishing Company in 1906, has apparently never been out of print and is, according to Jim Casada, one of the ten best-selling sporting books of all time. Casada is a modern outdoor writer and one of Kephart’s two major biographers. The other is North Carolina writer and naturalist George Ellison.

What has long been forgotten about Kephart is that he was a busy young librarian during the final decade of the 19th Century, and a rising star in his profession. A series of personal emotional disasters brought that career to an end, but he recovered to live a second career during the last half of his life as a well-known and much loved outdoor writer and conservationist.

Kephart was born in Pennsylvania, of pioneer Swiss stock. The Civil War was raging. His father Isaiah served as a chaplain with the 21st Pennsylvania Cavalry. Like many veterans, after that war he wanted to get away, to start a new life. In those days, that meant going West, and West he went in 1867 with his wife Mary, and young Horace. They settled in Iowa, where, Kephart wrote, “It was before the day of fences, and for a year or so there was little to be seen from our front door but a sea of grass waving to the horizon.”

Horace was an only child, and a lonely one, but he was lucky. He had an attentive mother who encouraged his imagination: “My mother taught me to read. When I was seven, and could read almost anything, she gave me my first book, dear old Robinson Crusoe. ” In view of his later life, Crusoe may have molded the man.

Kephart’s family returned to Pennsylvania in 1876, and he graduated from Lebanon Valley College in 1879. He spent twenty years in the library profession, beginning at Cornell University, then at Rutgers and Yale University libraries, in  Europe, and culminating as director of the St. Louis Mercantile Library from 1890 to 1903.  Kephart published regularly in Library Journal on a variety of topics of interest to librarians of the day, including ink and paper, glue, bookbinding, library ethics, and cataloging and classification of library materials. At St. Louis he not only built an extraordinary collection of Western Americana literature but he also “re-engineered” the library—developing the staff and services to meet the changing needs of its patrons, and adopting new library technologies such as the Library of Congress printed catalog card subscription service.

An 1890 article called “Being a Librarian,” which Kephart published in Library Journal and in Harper’s Weekly, has been turned into a one-act play for voices by the author of this blog. Permission to stage the play is available upon application to the Center. The script is available at http://www.faculty.uaf.edu/ffdjs1

He was also publishing articles in the outdoor magazines about military history, woodcraft, shooting, camping, spelunking, and other outdoor topics.

An engaging account of life in St. Louis can be found in a typescript at the St. Louis Mercantile Library by Kephart’s eldest son Leonard. titled “An Experienced Generation.” Leonard described family life as warm and comfortable, with Father coming home each evening, researching his articles, and puttering about in his study. But increasing emotional problems, perhaps exacerbated by alcohol and the demands of family life, led to a “nervous breakdown” and the disintegration of his professional and family life in 1904. His wife Laura (born Laura Mack) and their six children left St. Louis to return to New York State, and they did not live together as a family again, at least not for any significant period of time.

Following his breakdown Kephart retreated to the wilderness of the Great Smoky Mountains. He was 41 years old.  There he set up a backwoods camp and began supporting himself by writing books and hundreds of articles for popular sporting magazines such as Arms and the Man, American Rifleman, Forest and Stream, Field and Stream, Sports Afield, Recreation, Outing, and Shooting and Fishing.

In the course of this new career he became one of the best-known of his generation among those who read about camping, shooting, and the outdoors, and who shared his conviction, popular then as now, in the spiritual renewal offered by wilderness.

The Book of Camping and Woodcraft has a dizzying history of editions and printings. It was a standard of its day in outdoor literature, and is considered a classic of the genre: practical, well-written, expert, and penned with more than a hint of wry humor. Kephart was an avid proponent of “going light,” and included in his book tables of weights of food and equipment–to the ounce. He was one of those light-weight equipment gurus whose line extends from the long-distance canoeist J. MacGregor and explorer Dr. Frederick Cook, whose wife sewed him a gossamer-weight silk tent for his 1906 trip to Mt. McKinley,  to Colin Fletcher’s Complete Walker and other contemporary writers.

In 1913 Kephart published Our Southern Highlanders, which also remains in print and which was among the first popular ethnographic studies of the people of the Southern Appalachians. At the time of its publication it was called “The finest regional study yet written by an American.”

Camping and Woodcraft found a ready audience in the U.S. and Britain, in an era when outdoor recreation was of intense interest, and Kephart, like his mentor and earlier outdoor writer Nessmuk (George Washington Sears, 1821-1890 ) was an advocate of going to the woods for spiritual refreshment from the rigors of civilized life. “To many a city man,” he wrote as the first sentence of Camping and Woodcraft, “there comes a time when the great town wearies him. He hates its sights and smells and clangor. Every duty is a task and every caller is a bore. There come visions of green fields and far-rolling hills, of tall forests and cool, swift-flowing streams.” Kephart dedicated his Camping and Woodcraft “To the shade of Nessmuk in the happy hunting ground.”

He also wrote books on camp cookery and sporting firearms for Outing Publishing Company, and edited that company’s Outing Adventure Library. These can be found at your library or through interlibrary loan, and in the used-book market at  http://www.abebooks.com/ . The titles themselves are a chronicle of the the era’s popular taste for exploration and adventuring:

The Cherokee of the Smoky Mountains: A little band that has stood against the white tide for three hundred years

Castaways and Crusoes: Tales of survivors of shipwrecks…

Captives among the Indians

First through the Grand Canyon: Being the record of the pioneer expedition of the Colorado River in 1869-70

Hunting in the Yellowstone, or on the trail of the wapiti with Texas Jack in the land of the gysers

Adrift in the Arctic ice pack, from the history of the first U.S. Grinnell expedition in search of Sir John Franklin…

In the Old West as it was in the days of Kit Carson and the “Mountain Men”

The Gold Hunters: a first-hand picture of life in the California Mining Camps in the early  ’50s

Watching the devastating effects of wholesale logging on the people and landscape of his beloved Smoky Mountains, Kephart became an ardent conservationist. In the last decade of his life, he worked tirelessly to bring Great Smoky Mountains National Park into being. He lived long enough to anticipate the establishment of the park in 1934. Several weeks before his death in 1931 in a car accident near Bryson City, North Carolina, the United States Geographic Board named one of the highest peaks in the Smokies “Mount Kephart.” It is one of the two first peaks named after a living person by the U.S. government. The memorial plaque at his last campsite in Great Smoky Mountains National Park was erected by the Horace Kephart Troop, Boy Scouts of America.

In-depth biographical material can be found in George Ellison’s introduction to the University of Tennessee Press edition of Our Southern Highlanders and Jim Casada’s introduction to Camping and Woodcraft, also from University of Tennessee Press.

Kephart’s archives, including his notebooks, correspondence,  typescripts, artifacts, and realia, are collected at Hunter Library Special Collections and at the Mountain Heritage Center at Western Carolina University in Cullowhee, NC.  A rich source of material, especially relating to Kephart’s career as a librarian, is archived at the St. Louis Mercantile Library. A fabulous online collection of photographs and other materials at Western Carolina University,  called Horace Kephart: Revealing an Enigma,  is available at http://www.wcu.edu/library/digitalcoll/kephart/index.htm.