Angels Lost and Found

Frequent readers will recall that I often visit places, and here announce that I love them. Boston. Quebec. Montana. I ended up really liking Yemen, although I did not expect to. I do not love Los Angeles.

It’s not because the Angels won both games I attended. Fair wins both. It’s not the temperature — evenings have been nicely cool, and even the heat of the day has been nicer (read: drier) than comparable days in DC. It’s not the fact that all my electronics are dying — phone and blackberry because i didn’t bring chargers, iPod because it’s old. That’s attributable to me, or the universe, and LA has no responsibility.

The traffic has been very annoying, but in all fairness, I’ve spent more of my freeway time between 75 and 80 than between 15 and 20. (A little of the latter goes a long way, to be sure.) More than that, more even than the smog, it’s a certain smugness. That whole It Never Rains in Southern California and Midnight Train to Georgia thing. I don’t know, maybe it’s just my bad luck, but I encounter it pretty much everywhere I go.

On the other hand,I had a nice dinner. I felt like I really wanted a steak, and wanted to be by the Pacific, so the helpful folks here at the hotel sent me down to Redondo. The waiter was an aspiring actor. The filet mignon was OK, nothing to write home about. The shrimp were not as good as I cook at home. The wine was oak-y, and no match for the House Brand. The baked potato, though redeemed it all, and more. It was so good. It made up for the traffic. It made up for the Angels’ bloodbath Friday night. It made up for the smog. People, I’m telling you, this baked potato was good enough to redeem the career of Sonny & Cher, as well as those of Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon. It more than made up for the Eagles. Even all those years of the Oscars, streaker included. Was the baked potato good enough to balance out the harm to the Owens Valley? No, but the bacon bits in the potato were. Nixon, Reagan? Forgiven, forgotten.

Lost Angels

I’m headed to the City of, for various business purposes. Just a quick weekend trip, but I hope to fit in a ballgame, and meet some internet friends, along with the more important stuff.

I was up late working on the Civil War site, not that there’s all that much to show for it yet. I can sleep on the plane. And maybe make some more progress on that great John Marshall biography.

If I Was A Real Blogger, I’d Be Live-Blogging

I’m at Constitution Hall, waiting for Al Gore. Big crowd outside, and a dozen — nearly a dozen — demonstrators. Against sensibility. Young Republican looking, with posters that drip with snark. They get all the press attention, of course.

There are 4,000 people on the waiting list, so the place will be full.

More later.

Update: Inspiring speech, and a bold goal: 100% of US electricity from non-carbon sources in 10 years. Yes we can.

A Civil War Project?

First off, let me make clear that I am not now, now have I ever been a Civil War guy. I saw the Burns movie, understand the basic outline, but am not interested in hero-worship, Lost Causes, the Battle of Chickamauga (I couldn’t tell you who won), or any of the costume drama that so many people go in for.

That said, I have found it interesting to look at individual service member’s experiences, as with Samuel Longwell in the post below, and William Carpenter’s discussed back in May. And it’s interesting to note that Samuel’s brother, and at least two brothers-in-law served as well. I know there are similar circumstances in other families in my ancestry. You get a picture of an impact on family life that way.

So here’s what I’m thinking. My Cousin Project involves finding the descendants of 16 couples. They can be divided easily into 8 couplets — and of these, one (Douglas/Anderson) is comprised of people who were in Scotland during the Civil War, and another (St.Amant/Bordeleau) mostly of people in Quebec. That leaves 6. Here’s what I’m thinking: I’d go through the six couplets, and find everyone who either fought in the war, or married someone who did. Then work up a brief description of whatever I can find. I think I’ll set up a separate blog for this — I may or may not crosspost here, it’ll depend on how a particular narrative develops.

Something to do with all of that extra free time I’ve got.

His Disabilities Are In Our Opinion Not Due To Vicious Habits

Update: For people who keep track of such things, I’ve pretty substantially revised this one as of 9 15 am EDT.

I took a few minutes today to visit the National Archives. I’ve been trying to work out the family of my grandmother’s grandmother, Matilda Longwell of Milroy, Pennsylvania. Tillie had a little brother named Samuel, and I’d found a Samuel Longwell in the census, and in the Civil War records. The only person after the war who really fit the profile was Samuel G. Longwell, a printer who lived in Pittsburgh, and died in a veteran’s home in Dayton, Ohio in 1907. One problem, though, was that the pre-war census showed Tillie’s little brother as Samuel M. Longwell, and there were enlistment records for each.

So I went to look at the pension file. One of the first items dealt with this very problem: as he explained himself, in a letter to the War Department, when people recorded his name — Samuel Maclay Geiger Longwell — they didn’t always ask which initial he liked to use. (I know it’s a match: Tillie Longwell’s mother was Keziah Geiger). He’d explained the business with his initials, because the pension bureaucrats doubted that the same person had served in the three different units he was in. What units? First, he was in the 131st, and saw action at Antietam, and northern Virginia through May 1863. Then, very briefly, he was in the 36th, a militia unit created in response to Lee’s approach on Gettysburg. That unit was temporary, and he joined the 78th in early 1865, and spent the rest of the war (and six months thereafter) in Nashville, as a musician. He’d gotten married, by the way, in January 1865.

Longwell first applied for a pension soon after the 1890 law. It was denied, and he wrote a bitter letter, noting that he knew of a great many seemingly healthy men who were getting pensions, and so why shouldn’t he: his right arm was near useless, from an injury sustained at Fredericksburg, and he’d lost nearly all his hearing after being knocked in the head at Chancellorsville (by a piece of a tree, sent flying by a ‘heavy missile’).

He reapplied, and finally got a pension in 1898. And from then on his health declined steadily, as shown in the annual physicals. Each application included extensive medical records; one surgeon’s affidavit included the line that is the title of this post.

So anyway, most of Samuel’s children moved to Illinios — Chicago and Moline — and one grandson was in Spokane by 1930. They stayed in the printing business, mostly. I’m still looking for a living person well informed enough to be helpful.

Al Marri

The United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit ruled today, en banc, that Congress has authorized the President to detain suspected Al Qaida conspirators, arrested in the United States, indefinitely. The vote was 5-4. Ali al Marri is being held in South Carolina military facility — I suspect the location is based on the expectation that the most favorable law would be had from the Fourth Circuit.*

The exact language of this congressional grant of authority is pretty tough to find — but all that claptrap about strict construction and statutory interpretation based on the text itself goes out the window when the will of the authoritarians would be better served otherwise. I don’t know whether or not there are 5 votes in the Supreme Court to reverse this. I’m not sure we’ll find out.

The other holding in the case went our way. By a 5-4 vote, the Circuit said that the lower court had not given al Marri due process. The case is sent back for the district court to wrestle with evidentiary issues. This puts that district court in the same boat as our district court, trying to sort out the procedural requirements of common law habeas. (As one of my colleagues likes to say, ‘Metaphorically, our clients are not in Attica. They’re in the Tower of London.’ That is, most habeas in this country arises from state court convictions. Not so in our cases.)

The opinions are worth reading, although very long.

* Note to foreign readers: in the federal court system in the US, we have regional courts of appeal. Because my case is in DC, the applicable appellate court is the DC Circuit. The Fourth Circuit covers Maryland, the Carolinas, and the Virginias. The Seventh Circuit, mentioned last week, covers Illinois, Indiana, and Wisconsin.

Rien

Tonight we watched the real La Vie En Rose. We had a bad Netflix disk, though, and skipped quite a bit. I thought the actress was fantastic, and the movie (what we saw of it) only so-so. I’m just not moved enough by those songs, I guess.

Slow day at the office, busy day tomorrow. So it goes.

Weekends

I just realized this is my last weekend at home for a good long time. Los Angeles — Norfolk — Vancouver Island (1.5) — Guantanamo — home — Boston and then it’s September. Should I spend the day on home improvement? Or just vege out? So far, the latter is way ahead . . .

Chainsaw Art

We’re just outside of Gettysburg at a chainsaw carving competition. Nothing but bears. The artistry is really very impressive. (I’ll post pictures tonight). We’d hoped to buy one, but the really good stuff will be auctioned tomorrow.

Kitsch is common but not required, and I think we might just explore having a custom job done.

Update: The one we wanted was the first one up. A nice looking griz. We were outbid by a guy who bought very nearly every piece. I guess the artists can’t really afford to have their stuff priced by the coincidence of how many people show up in rural Pennsylvania on a given day. On the other hand, if I’m bidding against someone who’s going to resell to stores in NYC, I’m pretty much wasting time, if I’m hoping for a bargain. My cousin Thomas is going today, and he has instructions and a ceiling for a nicer piece. I think the odds are pretty long, but the wife really liked the baby bears in a canoe . . .

Midwestern Hospitality

It’s a great day in Indiana. It’s just a day trip, but I won my case outright — and had some fun cross-examining the other side’s witness — and had a very fine lunch with Obsidian Wings’ “von.”

Not such a great day in Illinois: ithe Seventh Circuit issued it’s opinion in that case I argued back in January, and we did not prevail.

Name Change

RL friend and reader Chris suggests a change in the name of the blog. I’m not at all sure, but think it’s worth a try. Opinions?

One Digit Off

Apparently my office phone number is just one digit away from that of a marina in southern Alabama. I get wrong number calls once every two months or so. Including today.

CC: [Says name}

Caller: [strong southern accent] I want to take my boy deep sea fishing today. Are you the man to call.

CC: [chuckles] I’m laughing because I’m a Washington DC lawyer. I support your right to take your boy deep sea fishing though, and if anyone interferes with your ability to do that — especially anyone connected with the government here — I want you to call me back and we’ll see what we can do about it.

Caller: [laughing] You’re a good man.