Check your C-SPAN 3 listings this weekend for this documentary about the defenses of Washington. We take it as a given that the Confederacy did not capture the capital during the war. It very much might have gone the other way. Tomorrow a friend and I are going to the Brooklyn Navy Yard, which I have never been to before. I will take pics. Sunday I will be writing an encyclopedia article. Enjoy your weekend.

…and Abraham Lincoln gave us Facebook.

Here is a reminder of why one shouldn’t believe everything one reads. What is most dismaying is the number of reputable outlets who picked up the story.

[Hat tip Susan Ingram]

I was in Greenwood Cemetery earlier this afternoon. It was a cool, rainy day and there were few visitors even by normal standards. I had reached the part of the cemetery where a good number of Civil War soldiers happen to be buried and, walking up to one, was stunned to see that he had been killed in action on May 5, 1862–150 years ago today. What are the odds of such a thing happening?

Herrick Hayner, Brooklyn’s Greenwood Cemetery

I was not able to find a whole lot about Hayner. The reason, really, is because he died before having a chance to live. Herrick Hayner was born in Troy, New York in 1837. In New York City on New Year’s Day 1862 he was commissioned a second lieutenant in Company H of the 70th New York Volunteer Infantry. The 70th New York was part of the Third Corps at this time, and that May found itself part of General McClellan’s Peninsula Campaign.

Hayner lost his life in Virginia at the Battle of Williamsburg…

Currier & Ives

…and now rests here in Brooklyn near these trees.

This past Monday I was coming up the stairs at the college where I work. When I got to my floor I stepped into the large hallway, where several people were setting up lights and cameras. It was the photographers who come each year to take graduation photos. Actual graduation is still about a month away, but I am always moved when I see this rite of passage every year. The ersatz waiting room was conveniently located next to the soda machine and so at least once a day I headed in that direction seeking refreshment. It was also a convenient excuse to b.s. with the students, dressed in their finest, waiting for their turn to be called. People were laughing and mostly in a good mood, though some seemed pensive, possibly wondering what their future brings. Some of them I have known throughout their student life through having helped them on the reference desk, teaching them in a workshop, or in the classroom. New York City has changed a great deal in the last few decades, and much of that is due to individuals who are new to the city and the country. I remember coming in to teach a library session on a Sunday morning and one of the students telling me that he had come here from Africa several years ago. He drove a cab 40 hours a week and was taking weekend classes at the same time. Another student was a single mother who had returned to school after a long–long–hiatus. These stories are not untypical. The strength and courage of many of them is moving. These were the things running through my mind every time I passed the hallway over the course of the week.