Loewen, James W. Lies Across America: What Our Historic Sites Get Wrong. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1999.
What is history? Is history what actually happened, or is it what people say about what happened? Many people can say many different things about events that occurred and call it history. In Lies Across America: What Our Historic Sites Get Wrong, James W. Loewen argued that history is what people say about what occurred. Despite the fact that many different people can say many different things and pass them off as history, this is what history is. What actually happened is the past; what people say about it is history, and with time and proper study, he argued, history can change. Loewen opened the book with some explanatory essays that tell why historical markers are so important. He then went into a lengthy but effective survey of historical sites across the United States, in which, he pointed out omissions, poor language, and straight lies. He further offered a list of twenty candidates for total removal, for their offensive nature or their inability to present what actually did or did not happen. Loewen concluded the book by pointing out that history does change and that by asking some educated questions, people can help to improve the way that public history is presented in this country. [1]
In the first section of the book, which consists of five short essays, a few things stood out. In "In What Ways Were We Warped?," Loewen pointed out that the public's understanding of history is skewed in a couple ways, poor presentation in public schools and inaccurate historical sites. For the historical markers he offered an example here, a site that fails to mention that Native Americans were enslaved in Utah up until 1863. Could he also have suggested oral history, as well? In "Some Functions of Public History," the two most interesting points that he made were that all historic sites serve to maintain the civic status quo; they never challenge the government and that an inaccurate site can negatively affect the future. [2]
In "The Sociology of Historic Sites," Loewen mentioned local boosterism, in which multiple locations have claimed to be the site of the first occurrence of some event or action, in order to draw tourists. The most interesting point gleaned from "Historic Sites are Always the Tales of Two Eras" is that every marker or monument never tells just one story. It not only tells the story of the person or place that is being commemorated but also speaks of the people that placed it and the times that they lived in. In "Hieratic Scale in Historical Monuments," Loewen discussed issues of power display at monuments and pointed to the statue of Theodore Roosevelt in New York City's American Museum of Natural History. This statue has Roosevelt astride a horse high above a Native American and an African American. He also pointed to how this can distort the future by misrepresenting the past.[3]
In the next section of the book, Loewen began his review of the multitude of historic sites that dot the American landscape. Interestingly enough, he began his review in the West, which contradicts the modern story of American History that begins in the East. He pointed this very fact out earlier in the book and stated that this approach recognized that the Americas were, in fact, first settled by migrants from Asia, directionally from east to west, long before Europeans ever arrived. The section is divided into 'The Far West,' 'The Mountains,' 'The Great Plains,' 'The South,' 'The Atlantic States,' and 'New England.'
The most interesting story in the first section, 'The Far West,' was "California Downieville: Killing a Man Is Not News." In this essay, Loewen told of a woman, Josefa or Juanita (two different names were given), who, after a confrontation, in which her home was invaded and she killed a white man, was lynched and actually ended up putting the noose around here own neck and jumping to her death. Her 'last words' are memorialized on the marker dedicated to her, "I would do the same again, if I was so provoked." What made this essay stand out was that it was not a defense of women. The author actually argued that Josefa's marker actually made it look like a woman's life was worth more than a man's life.[4]
In the next section, 'The Mountains,' one will be most struck by "Idaho Almo: Circle the Wagons, Boys - It's Tourist Season." The first thing that one will notice is that this site makes Native Americans appear savage and evil, and Loewen pointed that out. More interesting, though, is the fact that the site commemorates an event that as evidence has shown, never took place. The townspeople were also extremely defensive when the Idaho State Historical Society attempted to remove the inaccurate monument. The most interesting story in 'The Great Plains' is "South Dakota Brookings: American Indians Only Roved for About a Hundred Years." A marker entering Brookings County states, "You Are About to Enter Brookings County - Home of roving Indians until 1862." As Loewen effectively pointed out, this sign completely ignores the fact that Native Americans only began their roving lifestyle after they were forced to find ways to adapt to new conditions that resulted from incursions into their territories by Europeans. Most all native tribes before this time were settled. Loewen offered the Mandans of North and South Dakota as an example.[5]
The most interesting story in 'The Midwest' would be that of Abraham Lincoln's birthplace, "Kentucky Hodgenville: Abraham Lincoln's Birthplace Cabin - Built Thirty Years after His Death!" The title of this story is almost entirely self explanatory; the city of Hodgenville presents a cabin that is younger than Lincoln, as the man's birthplace. What makes it more humorous is that the house that stands is actually a hodgepodge of materials from the original fake birthplace house and another such house that was supposed to be the birthplace of Jefferson Davis. There are two titles in 'The South' that compete with one another for the label of most interesting. They are "Texas Gainesville: "No Nation Rose So White and Fair; None Fell So Free of Crime"" and "Tennessee Woodbury: Forest Rested Here." The marker in Gainesville completely ignores the strong Union sentiment that was present in Cooke County at the time and justifies what was probably the largest mass lynching in US History. The marker in Woodbury honors the man that founded the first nationwide incarnation of the Ku Klux Klan, which in all rights, earned the right to be called a terrorist organization, as it participated in the persecution of thousands of people across the country, in both the North and the South.[6]
The most interesting story in 'The Atlantic States' would be "Pennsylvania Philadelphia: Remember the "Splendid Little War" - Forget the Tawdry Larger Wars." The marker on the USS Olympia, the ship that served as the flagship of Admiral Dewey's fleet in Manila Bay during the Spanish-American War, honors the ship's service during that minor conflict but ignores or minimizes any further service. It ignores, entirely, America's war against the Philippines, which began almost immediately after the defeat of Spain and resulted in the conquest and subjugation of a sovereign people by the United States. It also skews the ship's role in the United States' involvement in the Russian Civil War. In 'New England' one will find "New Hampshire Concord: "Effective Political Leader"" to be extremely interesting. This story speaks of the marker dedicated to a man, President Franklin Peirce, who was involved in countless attempts to spread slavery. The most notable of his offenses were his involvement in the Ostend Manifesto and 'Bloody Kansas.' The marker conveniently forgets these events.[7]
Following these essays, and the many others that tell of inaccurate or outright false history, are two essays that serve as a conclusion. These two essays, "Snowplow Revisionism" and "Getting into a Dialogue with the Landscape," show that public history is beginning to make progress. More and more sites are beginning to alter their presentations or add on to them to tell more accurate stories. They also point out, however, that much work has yet to be done. They argue that it is the presents' responsibility to ensure that the future is made available to all persons through an accurate presentation of the past. They argue that this can only be achieved through mature public discourse. In the Appendices, A, B, and C, Loewen explained his methods for choosing sites, presented some questions that any person that visits historical sites should ask if they wish to get the most out of the site, and examined twenty different historical sites that he felt should be removed entirely.[8]
A lot can be gained from a book like this. First, and probably the most obvious, is that one can learn about places that they were previously unaware of. Second, one can gain a better understanding of the things that help to maintain the tense racial relations that exist in this country, to this very day. Third, this book may encourage a person to go visit certain sites for themselves, which would broaden their perspective on this country and the world, for that matter. Finally, one may also be encouraged to crusade for a local site that has been ignored or presented inaccurately, and one can be sure, there are plenty more sites across the country to consider.
One question still remains, however. That is, what good can be had by totally removing certain sites, namely those in the South dedicated to persons whose exploits are now less than reputable? Sites like those dedicated to Nathan Bedford Forrest and the 'Good Loyal Servants' are extremely offensive and emotionally charged, which makes questions like this difficult to ask and even more difficult to answer. Some will argue that total removal, despite sites' offensive nature, runs the risk of forgetting an important part of the nation's history. Perhaps Loewen's suggestion that such things be removed to museums for the provision of appropriate context is an acceptable compromise; though, he did also mention allowing for dual interpretations at sites. Either way, difficult parts of history cannot be shunned just because they hurt a little. They must be addressed head on, so that they can be turned into valuable lessons from which people can learn the benefits of working together in peace.
[1] James W. Loewen, Lies Across America: What Our Historic Sites Get Wrong (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1999).
[2] Ibid, 2-6, 12-14.
[3] Ibid, 21, 22, 30-31.
[4] Ibid, 6, 56-59.
[5] Ibid, 75-79, 116-118.
[6] Ibid, 152-156, 163-168, 237-240.
[7] Ibid, 352-355, 402-404.
[8] Ibid, 412-423, 424-436.
