A Mountain in the Way by Laurie Alice Eakes

A Mountain in the Way by Laurie Alice Eakes

More accurately, mountains stood in the way—the Appalachian and Adirondack Mountains to be exact—between the eastern coast of the United States and the Great Lakes. A traveler spent over two weeks reaching Lake Eerie, where Cleveland now stands, and another two weeks to reach Detroit. A boat across the smallest of the Great Lakes would have greatly shortened this time; however, these boats were not available to the foot and wagon traffic that trundled across the mountains.

Something needed to be done.

In the 1760s in Great Britain, the Duke of Bridgewater sank his entire fortune into building canals to haul coal throughout the country. He impoverished himself with the project, but it later paid off. Why not a canal to connect the Hudson River with Lake Eerie?

Because 600 feet of elevation created a problem.

At this time, locks could only elevate a craft a maximum of twelve feet at a time. That meant that a minimum of 50 locks would have to be built along a manmade waterway, a feat of engineering at any time in history, especially in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Difficult, but not impossible.

http://www.eriecanal.org/tour-westcentral.html

Many men proposed a canal over the next few decades and, finally, in 1808, the New York Assembly took the idea seriously, especially Governor Clinton. He received considerable ridicule. The canal project was called Clinton’s Folly and Clinton’s Ditch. But in 1817, the state legislature authorized seven million dollars to fund the project.

Through the over 360 mile canal from the Hudson River, to Buffalo, New York and Lake Eerie, engineers, mostly German stone masons and Irish laborers, had to build aqueducts, blast through limestone mountains and dense forests. Other natural barriers included the malaria-carrying mosquitoes that killed around 1,000 workers in the next eight years of construction.

But, at last, a water way was created. Cananarrow boats, also known as narrow boats,  were hauled by horses and mules along a “tow” path. Grain and other produce became cheaper to haul from the Midwest farms, to the highly occupied cities of the East. Machinery and imported goods, as well as the migration of people from an increasing population in the East, flowed to the west with greater ease, speed,  and lower cost.

On October 26, 1825, the Eerie canal opened.

Several times since then, the canal has been widened and the route changed a little. Nowadays, mostly only pleasure craft use the waterway rather than commercial vessels, which take the St. Laurens Seaway from the east coast, to the Great Lakes.

When researching the Eerie Canal for “Moonlight Promise” my novella in Sincerely Yours (Revell Books, April 1, 2014), I discovered that October 26, 1825 was the night of a full moon. Ah, such promise for this romance writer’s soul. In all practicality, probably not coincidence to have the canal open on the day of a full moon.

Purposeful or not, that full moon must have looked like a promise to tens of thousands – the canal would make a world of difference in their lives.

Public swimming--a brief history

By Kathleen L. Maher

As summer arrives and the kids begin vacation, many of us look forward to trips to the beach or pool. But public swimming hasn't always been the ritual we enjoy today. The history of public bathing has been controversial at times and dangerous at others.

Ancient Rome had public bath houses. Finland and Asia had saunas. Native Americans had sweat lodges. Japan had communal baths.  In Judaism and Islam a spiritual significance was attached to ritual cleansing, and communities often provided common pools in which to do so. Medieval Europe offered them--places where people could go to cleanse their bodies, exercise, and socialize--though the church frowned upon public bathing due to the vices often associated. Then in the Renaissance, the thought of Black Plague effectively ended communal baths as people began to believe their own dirt protected them from the disease.

The first public swimming pool in America opened in Massachusetts in 1887. As cities became overcrowded and enlightenment about sanitation and disease accompanied the progressive movement, public bath houses for the working class sprang up for the purpose of offering the unwashed masses a place to cleanse. Until municipal baths opened, rowdy young men would bathe openly in rivers and lakes, making a public spectacle for Victorian eyes, so the general thought was to provide privacy and promote decency and relegate them indoors.

 Bathers in Northern cities seemed to mingle according to race, but not gender or social status. Women bathed on alternate days from men in these public pools. For wealthy and upper middle class suburbanites, country clubs and private societies offered a more exclusive and recreational pool experience.

In the early 20th century, leisure time opened up for the laborer. As weekends and "holidays"--the non-religious version of holy days--were given, amusement parks and public beaches became popular. Coney Island and Jones Beach in New York became sensations. Sunbathing, sand and shore entered the public psyche.

Around the same time as people began to flock to the beach, public pools rose in popularity. Fairgrounds Park pool in St. Louis offered a sandy bottom and drew thousands of bathers every season. These pools gradually became co-ed, and as men and women bathed together a new wave of racism arose, white men prohibiting other races to mingle with white women. Fairgrounds Park pool erupted in a race riot when the first black swimmers were admitted.

But the Polio scare of the '30's and '40's would soon empty the pools and beaches. When FDR came down with the crippling disease after a weekend away at a lake house in New Brunswick, the public drew an instant association with swimming and the summer scourge.  Since Polio is resistant to soaps and chemicals of low pH, its spread became epidemic. But it was soon discovered that chlorine rendered the disease inactive. Old methods of pool sanitation involved frequently changing out the water and filters. Chlorine had been heavily produced during WWI, and its use in pools began in the 40's and became standard by the 1960's. Jonas Salk's vaccine brought swimmers back within a season or two as the beach beckoned and confidence rose again over fear.


Beach going is big business today. According to a study done in 2008 by James R. Houston, Ph.D., director of Research and Development, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, "It's estimated that U.S. beaches contribute more than $320 billion annually to the national economy -- more than 25 times what national parks bring in." The movie Jaws in the 1970's played on two big fears associated with swimming: the financial implications of closing a beach during a popular holiday season, and the primal fear of what may lurk in the deep.

As summer sings it siren song and beckons you to the waters, think about how this simple pleasure has been both enjoyed and forbidden in the past, and thank the Lord for the freedom and safety to take the plunge.

For discussion: Tell us about your favorite swimming hole. Does your family go to the beach every summer, or do you own a lake cottage? Do you pack up the kids and head to the public pool? Do you have a favorite memory involving swimming? Share with us!