Land That I Love: Learning From the Voices of the Dead

Becca meets John at a backyard barbeque put together by mutual friends. They hit it off, finding common ground in movies they’ve enjoyed, and decide to get together for coffee. Over the next few weeks, they become friends, but after a while Becca realizes the attraction has deepened. She’s falling in love.

The result? She begins asking more and more questions of John, eager to learn as much as possible about him. Does he enjoy working for his father’s construction business? What was it like growing up in a small town? Is he on good terms with his brother and sister? What are his political affiliations? The best moment of his childhood? Does he go to church? What are his hopes for the future?

When we fall in love with someone, we want to know everything we can about that person. In Becca’s case, she wants to dig below the surface, understand and connect with John, and insert herself into his past.

Which brings us in a roundabout way to American history.

We Can’t Love What We Don’t Know

"Embarkation of the Pilgrims," 1857, by Robert Walter Weir. Oil on canvas. Brooklyn Museum. (Public Domain)

Despite all our current divisions, the majority of Americans feel loyalty to their country. We don’t need to take a poll to prove this point. Millions of people are immigrating to these shores, legally and illegally, but only a relatively few Americans annually renounce their citizenship and move abroad, an act of repudiation that most often involves investments and finances. Whatever the political situation, Americans still believe theirs is a land of opportunity and freedom.

Unlike Becca’s interest in John, however, many of us neglect our country’s past. Perhaps because we grew up here, familiarity has bred not contempt but instead a lack of interest in the ideas and events that have shaped us as a people.

The history that students were supposed to learn in school is either forgotten or (worse) never taught, and many of us simply take for granted our right to attend a church or synagogue, switch jobs when we so choose, move across the country, and generally do as we please within the limits of the law. These freedoms are the American way, as natural and unquestioned as the air we breathe.

In short, we have eyes and ears for the present, but we are blind and deaf to the past.

But the past can make itself seen and heard if we allow it. If we enhance our intimacy with those who built our country, who fought bloody wars to protect our way of life, and who battled for “liberty and justice for all,” then by examining their words and actions, we may eventually realize that our ancestors were hoping we would keep faith with the legacy they bequeathed us.

And the only way we can reach across this canyon of time and shake hands with those who came before us—the only way we can see them and hear their voices—is through the study of history.

A Basic Query

"Declaration of Independence," circa 1818, by John Trumbull. Oil on canvas. United States Capitol Rotunda, Washington, D.C. (Public Domain)

We begin our excursion into the “old days” with some fundamentals.

Here’s a starter list of 10 simple questions about our history that any American high school graduate should be able to answer. If you wish, test yourself and your older children or grandchildren. To encourage research, if research is necessary, no answers are provided.

1. What was the main point of the Declaration of Independence?
2. What are the three branches of government laid out in the Constitution?
3. What is the Bill of Rights? Name one of these Rights.
4. During what war was “The Star Spangled Banner” written?
5. What was the Emancipation Proclamation?
6. What event took place in Appomattox Court House, Virginia, on April 9, 1865?
7. Name three presidents who served in office between 1900 and 1960.
8. What president said, “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.”
9. What is the general thrust of the Civil Rights Act of 1964?
10. Who was the first American to walk on the moon?

These questions, and others like them, are of course but the skeleton of the past. To give flesh, blood, sinew, and nerve to those bare bones, we must further expand our knowledge of the American story.

The Endless Resources at Our Command

Wilfred McClay's textbook uses a story form, instead of all facts and figures to bring America's history to life.

The ways and means of exploring the history of the United States are abundant. An excellent basic textbook, for example, is Wilfred McClay’s “Land of Hope: An Invitation to the Great American Story,” which is a balanced, informative account of the successes, failures, and troubles our country has faced.

For those who prefer to direct their gaze at more specific events, our libraries and bookstores offer an array of books for young and old alike. Even a modest public library, for example, will contain scores of volumes of American history for adolescents and adults, ranging in subject matter from the work of the Founding Fathers to the battles of the Civil War, and from the westward expansion to the fearful days of the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Biography, too, affords a splendid vehicle for conveying us into an older America and learning wisdom from the men and women who faced their own special tribulations. Daniel Brown’s “The Boys in the Boat: Nine Americans and Their Epic Quest for Gold at the 1936 Berlin Olympics” isn’t just a story of athletes and the human spirit; it also depicts the suffering inflicted by the Great Depression.

David McCullough’s “Mornings on Horseback,” which tells us of the early life of Theodore Roosevelt, and his “John Adams” are exquisite studies in the character and temperament of two outstanding Americans. Louis L’Amour’s autobiography “Education of a Wandering Man” provides us with a splendid account of a young man’s adventures while roaming the country in the 1930s and vividly demonstrates the great American tradition of the autodidactic learner.

For those wishing a more imaginative approach, fiction also throws open windows on the past. Betty Smith’s “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,” “The Kent Family Chronicles” by John Jakes, and hundreds of other stories written by authors past and present are historically sound and enkindle the imagination. In addition, novels for adolescents set in the America of yesteryear, like “Across Five Aprils” or “Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry,” can spark a lifelong interest in history.

The Payoff

"The Battle of Shiloh," 1888, by Thure de Thulstrup. Lithograph restored by Adam Cuerden. Library of Congress. (Public Domain)

In “Orthodoxy,” G.K. Chesterton wrote: “Tradition means giving a vote to most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead. Tradition refuses to submit to the small and arrogant oligarchy of those who merely happen to be walking about.”

Communing with the dead—that is, reading and absorbing history—removes us from Chesterton’s “small and arrogant oligarchy of those who merely happen to be walking about.”

While today we can see the grievous flaws of such an oligarchy, whether its practitioners are sitting in Congress or serving on our local school board, our trek through the past should demolish such self-obsession and strutting pride. History’s lessons and examples give us a longer view, a telescope to see beyond the latest headline or the next election.

That same journey into the past can also offer solace to fearful or weary travelers unhappy with the times in which they live. We then realize that those who came before us did not dwell in some golden age, but faced their own hardships. Understanding their troubles helps put our own present-day difficulties in perspective.

Moreover, immersing ourselves in history can endow us with strength and virtue. Reading about the tenacity of Ulysses Grant at the Battle of Shiloh, for example, when he rallied his defeated troops to win the battle the next day, can inspire us to stand fast through our own personal trials.

The integrity of men and women like Senator Robert Taft and Harriet Tubman reminds us of the importance of principles in a fallen world. The “Little House on the Prairie” books about the Ingalls family and their rough-and-tumble lives on the frontier can inspire our young people to persevere when confronted by life’s stumbling blocks.

To preserve our republic and to restore its culture means that we must understand our country. To understand America, we must study history, the good and the bad from our past.

And with that understanding, there should emerge an abiding love for who we are and who we hope to be.