This is the story of Galland's (The Bond Between Women: A Journey to Fierce Compassion) involvement in restoring a rural African American burial ground in east Texas. While researching black history in her hometown of Dallas, Galland became interested in slave cemeteries and heard about the abandoned Love Cemetery in Harrison County. Although black farmers had owned the surrounding land after the Civil War, by the early 20th century, whites effectively gained control of the area through such means as illegal seizure as payment for debts. Later, the logging industry took over the land and prevented descendants from visiting the gravesites. Galland brought together many volunteers of varying races, ages, and faiths to restore the cemetery in a series of cleanups. As a white woman, she became unsure of her role in leading the restoration but never gave up hope that the cemetery could be used to further racial reconciliation. Her book brings attention to the history of black Texans and demonstrates the importance of restoring slave cemeteries. Recommended for African American history collections in public libraries.--Kathryn Stewart SLIS student, Univ. of Iowa, Iowa City
This is the story of Galland's (The Bond Between Women: A Journey to Fierce Compassion) involvement in restoring a rural African American burial ground in east Texas. While researching black history in her hometown of Dallas, Galland became interested in slave cemeteries and heard about the abandoned Love Cemetery in Harrison County. Although black farmers had owned the surrounding land after the Civil War, by the early 20th century, whites effectively gained control of the area through such means as illegal seizure as payment for debts. Later, the logging industry took over the land and prevented descendants from visiting the gravesites. Galland brought together many volunteers of varying races, ages, and faiths to restore the cemetery in a series of cleanups. As a white woman, she became unsure of her role in leading the restoration but never gave up hope that the cemetery could be used to further racial reconciliation. Her book brings attention to the history of black Texans and demonstrates the importance of restoring slave cemeteries. Recommended for African American history collections in public libraries.--Kathryn Stewart SLIS student, Univ. of Iowa, Iowa City
For 18 years, from 1984 to 1998, the Vietnam crypt of the Tomb of the Unknowns in Arlington National Cemetery housed the remains of a soldier whose anonymity helped shoulder a nation's grief and fuel its memory. They were those of First Lieutenant Michael J. Blassie, an Air Force pilot shot down over hostile territory in southern Vietnam in 1972. On 14 May 1998, Blassie's then-unrecognized remains became the only set at the memorial to be disinterred and identified - an act that signaled an important shift in forensic practice and the state's means of commemorating its missing and unknown members of the military. Tracing the story of the Vietnam Unknown's (de)identification, this article examines the gradual though foundational reframing of the connection between national memory and identity expressed through care for those who 'made the ultimate sacrifice'. Whereas memorials of the past, such as the Tomb of the Unknowns, emphasized collective or anonymous groupings of war dead in articulating national identity, the changing technology of identification, particularly brought about by advances in DNA testing, has enabled individuated memorializing. Naming each dead soldier, returning each set of remains to surviving families, no matter how partial or delayed, personalizes the ideals of sacrifice and honor embodied in the fallen soldier and invites localized, communal remembrance. The shifts in technology and memory that have rewritten the story of the Vietnam Unknown not only altered modes of national commemoration, but also lay bare the connections between how war itself is waged, death justified, and a nation defined through its care for war dead.
For 18 years, from 1984 to 1998, the Vietnam crypt of the Tomb of the Unknowns in Arlington National Cemetery housed the remains of a soldier whose anonymity helped shoulder a nation's grief and fuel its memory. They were those of First Lieutenant Michael J. Blassie, an Air Force pilot shot down over hostile territory in southern Vietnam in 1972. On 14 May 1998, Blassie's then-unrecognized remains became the only set at the memorial to be disinterred and identified - an act that signaled an important shift in forensic practice and the state's means of commemorating its missing and unknown members of the military. Tracing the story of the Vietnam Unknown's (de)identification, this article examines the gradual though foundational reframing of the connection between national memory and identity expressed through care for those who 'made the ultimate sacrifice'. Whereas memorials of the past, such as the Tomb of the Unknowns, emphasized collective or anonymous groupings of war dead in articulating national identity, the changing technology of identification, particularly brought about by advances in DNA testing, has enabled individuated memorializing. Naming each dead soldier, returning each set of remains to surviving families, no matter how partial or delayed, personalizes the ideals of sacrifice and honor embodied in the fallen soldier and invites localized, communal remembrance. The shifts in technology and memory that have rewritten the story of the Vietnam Unknown not only altered modes of national commemoration, but also lay bare the connections between how war itself is waged, death justified, and a nation defined through its care for war dead.
FOR THE PAST SIXTEEN YEARS, the Alabama Historical Commission (AHC), the Alabama Trust for Historic Preservation (ATHP), and Alabama Heritage magazine have joined forces to publicize historic places endangered by neglect, lack of funds, or demolition. This year's Places in Peril highlights ten significant properties dating from the late 1840s to the late 1940s, including a "modern" apartment complex, a theater, a railroad depot, a church and community center, a hardware store, a collection of citywide schools, a slave cemetery, a historic district, an entire community, and an antebellum house. Inspired by the National Trust for Historic Preservation's America's 11 Most Endangered Historic Places list, Places in Peril generates awareness of the threats facing Alabama's important historic resources.
FOR THE PAST SIXTEEN YEARS, the Alabama Historical Commission (AHC), the Alabama Trust for Historic Preservation (ATHP), and Alabama Heritage magazine have joined forces to publicize historic places endangered by neglect, lack of funds, or demolition. This year's Places in Peril highlights ten significant properties dating from the late 1840s to the late 1940s, including a "modern" apartment complex, a theater, a railroad depot, a church and community center, a hardware store, a collection of citywide schools, a slave cemetery, a historic district, an entire community, and an antebellum house. Inspired by the National Trust for Historic Preservation's America's 11 Most Endangered Historic Places list, Places in Peril generates awareness of the threats facing Alabama's important historic resources.
his paper examines the concept of commemoration as an expression of
social memory and its relationship to time and space as manifested through the
mortuary evidence from Modern Greek cemeteries. Of particular interest is the act of
commemoration itself: who remembers whom and the length of time that this type of
memory endures. Based on evidence collected from a number of different cemeteries
in northern Kythera and the eastern Corinthia, I argue that memory at the nuclear
family level determines the length of time a grave is remembered as a physical
location. Once this memory ceases to exist, the grave gradually enters a process of
neglect, which ultimately leads to its abandonment. Some abandoned graves are
recycled for use by other families who, in the absence of any recollection or memory
of the grave, remove and destroy the old monuments (if they exist) and the remains
of the previous occupants. Particular burial spaces are, thus, reclaimed by new
groups.
his paper examines the concept of commemoration as an expression of
social memory and its relationship to time and space as manifested through the
mortuary evidence from Modern Greek cemeteries. Of particular interest is the act of
commemoration itself: who remembers whom and the length of time that this type of
memory endures. Based on evidence collected from a number of different cemeteries
in northern Kythera and the eastern Corinthia, I argue that memory at the nuclear
family level determines the length of time a grave is remembered as a physical
location. Once this memory ceases to exist, the grave gradually enters a process of
neglect, which ultimately leads to its abandonment. Some abandoned graves are
recycled for use by other families who, in the absence of any recollection or memory
of the grave, remove and destroy the old monuments (if they exist) and the remains
of the previous occupants. Particular burial spaces are, thus, reclaimed by new
groups.
The reported absence of distinguishing features upon British Gypsy-Traveller memorials has been used to support the widely accepted, and influential, argument that dead people are not the focus of social continuity within Gypsy-Traveller society. However, based upon cemetery surveys and interviews with members of the Gypsy-Traveller community in Sheffield, England, this paper demonstrates that explicit displays of ethnicity are now common upon memorials, and describes their characteristics. The reasons behind this apparent shift in mortuary practices are discussed in relation to wider socio-political factors. Based upon these findings, we argue for a reconsideration of the relationship between living and dead people within British Gypsy-Traveller society, and a recognition of the importance of commemoration in the negotiation of identity and social reproduction within these communities.
The reported absence of distinguishing features upon British Gypsy-Traveller memorials has been used to support the widely accepted, and influential, argument that dead people are not the focus of social continuity within Gypsy-Traveller society. However, based upon cemetery surveys and interviews with members of the Gypsy-Traveller community in Sheffield, England, this paper demonstrates that explicit displays of ethnicity are now common upon memorials, and describes their characteristics. The reasons behind this apparent shift in mortuary practices are discussed in relation to wider socio-political factors. Based upon these findings, we argue for a reconsideration of the relationship between living and dead people within British Gypsy-Traveller society, and a recognition of the importance of commemoration in the negotiation of identity and social reproduction within these communities.
In cemeteries, we do not remember our dead privately or quietly, as for example, in prayers. Instead, we
do so publicly and visibly, so that what we do (or do not do) can be noticed by the public. But how do we
remember and commemorate our dead at public cemeteries? Based on mixed-methods analyses of the
markers for the dead at cemeteries in a religiously relatively homogeneous (namely, Catholic) region, three
recent socio-cultural evolutions are identified and analyzed: (1) the construction of idiosyncratic markers
and the accompanying emergence of individualized identities, (2) the emphasis on embodied modes of
remembrance, and (3) the increasing visibility of voluntary social commitments and strong ties. Overall,
the findings presented here point to the growing diversification of our ways of publicly remembering and
commemorating the dead.
In cemeteries, we do not remember our dead privately or quietly, as for example, in prayers. Instead, we
do so publicly and visibly, so that what we do (or do not do) can be noticed by the public. But how do we
remember and commemorate our dead at public cemeteries? Based on mixed-methods analyses of the
markers for the dead at cemeteries in a religiously relatively homogeneous (namely, Catholic) region, three
recent socio-cultural evolutions are identified and analyzed: (1) the construction of idiosyncratic markers
and the accompanying emergence of individualized identities, (2) the emphasis on embodied modes of
remembrance, and (3) the increasing visibility of voluntary social commitments and strong ties. Overall,
the findings presented here point to the growing diversification of our ways of publicly remembering and
commemorating the dead.
This article chronicles a movement to restore Shippensburg, Pennsylvania's Locust Grove Cemetery, a historic African-American burial ground. The cemetery faced persistent troubles exacerbated by changing demographics in the surrounding neighborhood, its caretakers' limited resources, and the community's history of racial discrimination. Beginning in 2003, Shippensburg University applied history students assisted with research, grant writing, and interpretative materials. By 2005, a community coalition formed that built on the students' efforts, ultimately mobilizing the resources needed to finish the restoration. This case study illustrates the complex dynamics of a community preservation campaign and ways Public History programs can support such efforts.
This article chronicles a movement to restore Shippensburg, Pennsylvania's Locust Grove Cemetery, a historic African-American burial ground. The cemetery faced persistent troubles exacerbated by changing demographics in the surrounding neighborhood, its caretakers' limited resources, and the community's history of racial discrimination. Beginning in 2003, Shippensburg University applied history students assisted with research, grant writing, and interpretative materials. By 2005, a community coalition formed that built on the students' efforts, ultimately mobilizing the resources needed to finish the restoration. This case study illustrates the complex dynamics of a community preservation campaign and ways Public History programs can support such efforts.
Scholars have analyzed public relations' role in democracy via proxy concepts like the public sphere and civil society. However, some have critiqued the public sphere on grounds of equal access and portrayed civil society as a guise for first-world imperialism. These critiques have implications for the role of public relations in the public sphere and civil society. This article suggests the normative role of public relations in democracy is best perceived as creating the social capital that facilitates access to spheres of public discussion and in maintaining relationships among those organizations that check state power. To that end, the paper argues that social capital does much to advance public relations theory and prescribe the role of public relations in democracy. Several implications for public relations from a social capital perspective are offered, including the creation of generalized societal trust, the building of cross-cutting or "weak" ties, the engagement of media on behalf of subaltern counterpublics, and the (re)creation of community or a fully functioning society.
