Blocked Historical Research
From James Donahue’s Journal
My love of history again drew me into the newspaper morgue where I did historical research in my spare time.
I discovered that Kalamazoo was the home of one of Michigan’s early governors. He had the odd name Epaphroditus Ransom and served one term in the early 1800s. Ransom held the distinction of being the first governor to be inaugurated in Lansing after the new capital building was completed. He was known for his work in supporting recovery of newly discovered mineral wealth in the Upper Peninsula and he promoted internal improvements within the state. He also worked to establish asylums for the insane and the deaf. Quite a guy was old Epaphroditus.
My research tracked me to an address in the city, not far from the newspaper office, where his former home should have been found. I took a walk that day, reading store and house numbers as I moved down the block, expect to find a governor’s mansion among the many old stately houses. But I found only a parking lot where the house once stood. Someone had torn down that historical home to build a parking lot. I could not believe they could have allowed such a thing to have happened.
After moving from Kalamazoo, I learned that another historically unique house designed by Frank Lloyd Wright also was demolished because it was in the way of planned new road construction.
I discovered that Kalamazoo was the home of the Gibson Guitar Company, and also the place where the famous Checker Cabs, favored for use as taxi cabs all over the country, were manufactured. The company went out of business in 1997.
I wrote a few historical feature stories but learned that the managing editor (I have long forgotten his name) didn’t enjoy history any more than the people who tore down the governor’s mansion and the Frank Lloyd Wright house did. Only one of my stories saw the light of day.
That piece involved an old system of floating goods up the Kalamazoo River from Lake Michigan on flat-bottomed barges, either drawn by mules or pushed up river by long poles. The river was not deep enough for steamboats to make the trip.
A ghost story involving a hoax perpetrated by a jester who planted lights high in a tower at certain times of the year, and an expose of another prankster who built an elaborate device to create a monster that occasionally frightened fishermen when it reared its head in Portage Lake, were never printed. I gave up trying to write about Kalamazoo history.
From James Donahue’s Journal
My love of history again drew me into the newspaper morgue where I did historical research in my spare time.
I discovered that Kalamazoo was the home of one of Michigan’s early governors. He had the odd name Epaphroditus Ransom and served one term in the early 1800s. Ransom held the distinction of being the first governor to be inaugurated in Lansing after the new capital building was completed. He was known for his work in supporting recovery of newly discovered mineral wealth in the Upper Peninsula and he promoted internal improvements within the state. He also worked to establish asylums for the insane and the deaf. Quite a guy was old Epaphroditus.
My research tracked me to an address in the city, not far from the newspaper office, where his former home should have been found. I took a walk that day, reading store and house numbers as I moved down the block, expect to find a governor’s mansion among the many old stately houses. But I found only a parking lot where the house once stood. Someone had torn down that historical home to build a parking lot. I could not believe they could have allowed such a thing to have happened.
After moving from Kalamazoo, I learned that another historically unique house designed by Frank Lloyd Wright also was demolished because it was in the way of planned new road construction.
I discovered that Kalamazoo was the home of the Gibson Guitar Company, and also the place where the famous Checker Cabs, favored for use as taxi cabs all over the country, were manufactured. The company went out of business in 1997.
I wrote a few historical feature stories but learned that the managing editor (I have long forgotten his name) didn’t enjoy history any more than the people who tore down the governor’s mansion and the Frank Lloyd Wright house did. Only one of my stories saw the light of day.
That piece involved an old system of floating goods up the Kalamazoo River from Lake Michigan on flat-bottomed barges, either drawn by mules or pushed up river by long poles. The river was not deep enough for steamboats to make the trip.
A ghost story involving a hoax perpetrated by a jester who planted lights high in a tower at certain times of the year, and an expose of another prankster who built an elaborate device to create a monster that occasionally frightened fishermen when it reared its head in Portage Lake, were never printed. I gave up trying to write about Kalamazoo history.