With no Saints to honor, today we note that on this date in 1932 Charles Augustus Lindbergh, Jr., the son of aviator Charles Lindbergh and Anne Morrow Lindbergh, was abducted from his family home in New Jersey sometime during the night.
The Lindbergh’s nanny had put the 20-month-old child in his crib at 8:00 pm; at around 9:30 p.m., Col. Lindbergh heard a noise that made him think some slats had fallen off an orange crate in the kitchen. At 10:00 p.m. the nanny discovered that the baby was missing from his crib. A ransom note was found on the radiator in the boy’s room. During the next two months, a media circus ensued, with the second ransom note to the Lindberghs being leaked to the media. The ransom was paid through an intermediary (after the note had been leaked) but no word came from the kidnappers. The baby was found dead on May 12, 1932, and once the U.S. Congress learned that the child was dead, legislation was rushed making kidnapping a federal crime. On September 19, 1934, a German carpenter named Bruno Hauptmann was arrested for the kidnapping; he had nearly $15,000 of the ransom money, which he claimed had been left him by a friend who had then gone to Germany and died. Hauptmann was charged with extortion and murder, and was ultimately convicted of the crimes and sentenced to death. He was electrocuted on April 3, 1936, just over four years after the kidnapping. Several books have been written proclaiming Hauptmann’s innocence. These books variously criticize the police for allowing the crime scenes to become contaminated, Lindbergh and his associates for interfering with the investigation, Hauptmann’s trial lawyers for ineffectively representing him, and the reliability of the witnesses and physical evidence presented at the trial. However, several other books proclaim that the right man was arrested and executed. Twice during the 1980s Anna Hauptmann (died 1994) sued the state of New Jersey for the unjust execution of her husband. Both times the suits were dismissed on unknown grounds.
Yesterday, while I was sleeping, Richard put new LED lights in the motion sensors on the side of our house, over the driveway.
I did not wake up half an hour early today. Richard slept very poorly, and we both decided to sign the Early Out list at work. I did my Bathroom Devotional Reading, flipped to the new month in my three Wall Calendars, cleared out my phone call list and my voice mail list on my Galaxy Note 4, adjusted the date on my watches (which know what day it is, but not which month), and put my spare battery into my Galaxy Note 4. The new LED lights over our driveway in the motion sensors are great, nice and bright. On our way to work (Richard was so sleepy he almost veered off the roadway twice) I did my Internet Devotional Reading, deleted my Google search history, and cleared the browsing data and history on my Chrome Browser, Wikipedia, Google Play Store, and Facebook. I then took screenshots of all of my Galaxy Note 4 home screens. At the casino, Richard’s earliest call-in dropped off of the calendar (his next call-in drops off on April 7th), and we signed the Early Out list. When we clocked in Richard was on Pai Gow; I was to be the Relief Dealer for Mini Baccarat, Pai Gow, and a Blackjack table, but I had the first break, and we got out at 3:15 am, before I went back out to the floor. We arrived back home at 4:15 am (with Richard almost veering off the road only once), and I went back to bed.
Richard and I both woke up at about 11:00 am; we left the house at 11:30 am, after I read the morning paper. At the bank I cashed a check from AT&T, then we went to Wal-Mart, where we got some groceries and household items. On our way home we went through the drive through at Taco Bell. We arrived home at 12:30 pm, and I ate my tacos for lunch while working on Advance Daily Update Drafts for this weblog. I found also that I cannot put in for March 18th off from work (Richard suggested me putting in for that day, the day after I meet Julie in New Orleans); if necessary, I will call in that day, if I am too worn out from New Orleans the day before. I then updated my Daily Update for today to the current point in my day.
Richard and I left the house in the car at 4:00 pm, and headed to Lafayette. We met Steve from Baton Rouge and his friend from work Tonya for dinner at Zeus on Pinhook, and the Last Quarter Moon arrived at 5:13 pm. The four of us then went to the Heymann Performing Arts Center to see Randy Newman. Before the concert I got a robot call from my psychiatrist’s office reminding me of my Appointment tomorrow afternoon. The concert was very good (Newman is an EGO, having won Emmys, Grammys, and two Oscars), and we very much enjoyed it. While we were at the concert, our LSU Men’s Basketball team beat Missouri in their last regular season home game by the score of 80 to 71; our Tigers will play Kentucky on March 5th to finish out their regular season. We then said our goodbyes to Steve and Tonya; they headed back to Baton Rouge, and we headed home, arriving at 11:15 pm. And as soon as I finish this Daily Update, I am going to bed.
We again will have no Saints to honor tomorrow (wait one more day, my pretties). Tomorrow is Texas Independence Day, when the Republic of Texas formally declared independence from Mexico at the Convention of 1836 at Washington-on-the-Brazos. And tomorrow is both the anniversary of my late father’s birth (in 1929) and the anniversary of when Richard’s father died (in 1992). I will do my laundry and the Weekly Computer Maintenance. Our LSU Women’s Basketball team will be playing Alabama in Jacksonville, Florida at 10:00 am in the SEC Women’s Basketball Tournament. I will be going down to Lafayette for my appointment at my psychiatrist’s office at 1:00 pm to discuss my medications. Our #7 ranked LSU Baseball team will be playing Nicholls in a single away game, and our New Orleans Pelicans will be playing an away game with the Houston Rockets.
Our Parting Quote on this Tuesday afternoon comes to us from Alan Heyman, American-born South Korean musicologist and composer. Born in 1931 in New York City, New York, he attended the University of Colorado, where he majored in music while also studying a pre-medical course, graduating in 1952. After his graduation, Heyman was drafted into the United States Army. He initially knew nothing about Korea; when informed by his senior officer that he would be stationed in Uijeongbu near the South Korean capital of Seoul, he asked, “Excuse me sir, in what part of Japan is Uijeongbu?” In 1953, he was as an army medic and lab technician attached to a field hospital unit stationed in Gangwon Province. Chinese and North Korean forces stationed on a nearby mountain would often play loud Korean music over a loudspeaker late at night, using the sound as a non-lethal weapon to try to keep their enemies sleep-deprived. Most of Heyman’s comrades found the noise irritating. However, it had the opposite effect on Heyman himself, who was enthralled by the music, describing it as “refreshing and interesting”. During the war, he also met the woman who would become his first wife, a nurse. Heyman returned to the U.S. in 1954. At that point, he did not know the name of the instrument that had so fascinated him, the taepyeongso. He would not find out until after his tour of duty had ended and he had entered Columbia University to start studying towards his master’s degree in music education: a fellow graduate student from South Korea informed Heyman, based on the description he provided, that the sound he heard was that of the taepyeongso, which he analogised to a “conical oboe”. That same friend encouraged Heyman to go back to South Korea and pursue his interest in Korean music. Heyman received his degree from Columbia in 1959; that same year United States civilians were permitted to live in South Korea, and in 1960 Heyman moved to Insa-dong in Seoul; he was the only passenger on the Northwest Airlines flight which brought him back to the country. He enrolled in the Korea Traditional Musical Arts Conservatory near his house, offering free English lessons in exchange for his studies. He also married the nurse whom he had met during the war. Among the odd jobs that Heyman took to support himself and his wife during his music studies, he composed film scores for various films set in South Korea; by 1968, he had nearly a dozen such credits to his name, mostly documentaries. As he was not yet fluent in the Korean language at the time, he faced numerous difficulties in his studies. Aside from the taepyeongso, he also learned to play a number of other traditional Korean musical instruments, including the gayageum, the piri, and the janggu, as well as Korean dances such as the talchum and dances related to nongak. Though he eventually attained fluency in Korean, he later admitted he did not read hanja very well. Heyman was initially nervous whether he could find success in his chosen field, but his confidence and reputation grew after a 1962 performance he gave, the first in which a foreigner had performed Korean traditional music on stage. He even performed for South Korean president Yun Bo-seon. In 1964, with the sponsorship of the Asia Society, he organised a twenty-seven city tour of the United States for traditional Korean music group Sam Chun Li. They performed at the Lincoln Center and on national television on The Tonight Show. However, the tour’s success was damaged by negative rumours about their shows spread by a rival musical group, which resulted in cancellations by 17 out of 27 universities where they had scheduled performances; their sponsors refused to pay the musicians their contracted wages, and Heyman had to make up the difference out of his own pocket. In the 1960s Heyman also began taking an interest in the music of Donald Sur, a Hawaii-born composer whose works drew inspiration from the traditional music of his Korean immigrant forebears, as well as that of Alan Hovhaness and Lou Harrison, who had both visited South Korea and were influenced by the music they encountered there. However, he was an opponent of attempts to adapt Korean music to Western sensibilities in the name of modernisation. He composed the score for Northeast of Seoul, a 1972 thriller directed by David Lowell Rich. In 1973 Heyman led another troupe of National Gugak Center musicians on a tour of Europe. Again he ended up incurring unexpected expenses: the troupe arrived in Berlin and took a bus through East Germany on the way to the rest of Europe, but on the way back to Berlin a South Korean consular official in Paris demanded they fly instead of taking the bus, fearing that East German authorities might detain the musicians and turn them over to the North Koreans. Around that time, Heyman also considered moving back to the United States to take a position as an instructor in traditional Korean music and dance at Brown University, but the university cancelled its plans to hire him at the last minute. Instead he chose to remain in South Korea. His first wife died after a protracted struggle with liver cancer in 1985, leaving him with large debts as the couple had lacked medical insurance to pay for her treatments. He received a UNESCO cultural award in 1991. Heyman applied for naturalisation as a South Korean citizen in 1995, after more than thirty years of living in the country. He first faced a grueling naturalisation test, in which only two students passed the written portion; however, the oral portion was much simpler for him, as his interviewer asked him only to tell the tale of Heungbu and Nolbu, which he knew quite well from his pansori studies. As South Korea did not permit dual citizenship at the time, he then gave up his U.S. citizenship. He took the Korean name Hae Ŭiman. Also inn 1995 he was awarded the South Korean government’s Order of Cultural Merit. His English translation of Im Sok-jae’s Mu-ga: The Ritual Songs of Korean Mudangs, sponsored by the Korea Literature Translation Association, was published by Asian Humanities Press in 2003. In September 2010 he donated a large amount of the research materials he had collected over the years to the National Gugak Center. President Lee Myung-bak awarded Heyman the Silver Crown Order of Cultural Merit in April 2011 in recognition of his contributions to the National Gugak Center. That month he also received an award from the National Gugak Center on the occasion of their 60th anniversary. In June 2011 he was inducted into the Royal Asiatic Society Korea Branch as an honorary lifetime member (died 2014): “Luckily, in music one can learn much by example and observation, without the need for language.”