Monthly Archives: June 2016
By Stacy Parish, Children’s Department
Soccer sensation. Olympic gold medalist. Social media star. Gorgeous product spokesperson. Savvy businesswoman. Published author. All of this and so much more encompasses the phenomenon that is Alexandra Patricia Morgan, or “Baby Horse,” as she was once called by her teammates on the US Women’s National Team for her unbridled (oh, y’all knew I couldn’t get through one of my blogs without at least one pun) speed and strength.
Alex was born on July 2, 1989 to Pamela and Michael Morgan and grew up in Diamond Bar, California, with two older sisters, Jeni and Jeri. Alex played multiple sports growing up, and began playing soccer at age 5 for the American Youth Soccer Association (AYSO), and began playing soccer at the club level for Cypress Elite, based in Orange County, at age 14. But it was long before then, at the age of 8, when Alex declared to her parents that she was going to be a professional soccer player and was going to represent the United States in the Olympic Games someday. She has certainly realized those lofty goals, and more.
At age 17, Alex was called up to play for the United States’ under-20 women’s national team, and she played for the Golden Bears at the University of California at Berkley, from 2007-2010. She finished her college career ranked third all-time in goals scored (45) for the Golden Bears, and graduated one semester early with a degree in Political Economy.
On January 11, 2011, Alex was the first pick overall in the Women’s Professional Soccer draft by the Western New York Flash. Never one to wait around for something to happen, Alex scored her first professional goal for the Flash in the team’s home opener against the Atlanta Beat on May 1, 2011, resulting in a 3-0 win for Alex’s new team. In ensuing years, Alex has been on the roster for the Seattle Sounders Women (along with US National teammates Hope Solo, Sydney Leroux, Megan Rapinoe, and Stephanie Cox) for the 2012 season; the Portland Thorns FC from 2013-2015; and was traded in October 2015 to expansion team Orlando Pride, where she is currently on the roster.
In addition to her professional play, Alex has been an integral part of the US Women’s National Team. She became a starting player for the US in January of 2012 in the final match of the CONCACAF (Confederation of North, Central American and Caribbean Association Football) Olympic qualifying tournament. Once again, Alex asserted her dominance, scoring twice and providing two assists to teammate Abby Wambach that day, resulting in a 4-0 win over the Canadian hosts and securing her spot as a starter. Her prowess was crucial in the USWNT’s road to the final; she scored the winning goal in the semifinal against Canada in stoppage time during the 123rd minute of the game, sending the United States to the gold medal match against Japan. In that exhilarating 2-1 finish, Alex assisted on a Carli Lloyd header to secure the gold for the United States. For her excellence on the field, Alex was named by US Soccer as the 2012 Female Athlete of the Year, and she was honored by Diamond Bar High School by the retiring of her number, 13.
Lest you think that “Baby Horse” is a one-trick pony (sorry, sorry), you need to know that in addition to being a world-class athlete, Alex is also a published novelist. In 2012, she signed with Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing to write a series of books called The Kicks. The main characters are four female middle schoolers, and the books focus on themes of friendship, leadership, and (of course), soccer. The first novel of the series, Saving The Team, was released on May 14, 2013, and debuted at number 7 on the New York Times Best Seller list for Children’s Middle Grade. Alex has signed endorsement deals with Nike, Panasonic, Coca-Cola, and Bank of America and has appeared in advertisements for GNC, ChapStick, Bridgestone, and Nationwide Mutual Insurance Company. On January 24, 2016, Alex received the key to the city of her hometown of Diamond Bar, California.
Alex announced her engagement via Twitter to professional soccer player Servando Carrasco on December 9, 2013, and they were married on New Year’s Eve of 2014 in Santa Barbara, California, in the presence of their family, friends, and teammates. Alex brings the same tenacity that she demonstrates on the soccer pitch to fighting for pay equality for women athletes. She joined fellow USWNT teammates Carli Lloyd, Megan Rapinoe, Becky Sauerbrunn, and Hope Solo on March 31, 2016 in filing a formal complaint with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission against U.S. Soccer claiming the women’s team should be paid the same as the U.S. Men’s National team. “We ultimately decided to file this motion for all the little girls around the world who deserve the same respect as the boys,” Alex wrote. “They deserve a voice, and if we as professional athletes don’t leverage the voices we have, we are letting them down. We will not let them down.” This, darling readers, is one of the many reasons that Alex Morgan is not only an amazing athlete, but an amazing person.
Sources and suggested reading:
- Alex Morgan (J 92 MORGAN) by Jon M. Fishman
- World Soccer Legends: Alex Morgan (J 796.3340) by Illugi Jokulsson
- The Girls of Summer (796.3340 LON) by Jere Longman
- Saving The Team (J F MORGAN) by Alex Morgan
- Breakaway (J 92 MORGAN) by Alex Morgan
As ever, the opinions and viewpoints expressed here, in this second installment of my “Amazing Women Athletes” series, are the sole province of the author and not representative of any other WCPL employees, their families, or their housepets. Additionally, the author may have been witnessed in the past screaming obscenities in the general direction of her TV while the USMNT and USWNT are playing.
By Lon Maxwell, Reference Department
Heraldry, the word brings up ideas of knights and tournaments, royalty and television dramas. To most people it’s a stuffy, old fashion anachronism. To a very small few, it is an art form. What it really is falls under the modern concept of branding. If you were in the know in the 14th and 15th centuries you could look at the heralds list at a tournament and recognize knights from their coats of arms. If you had not met the knight personally, you could judge his character based on his arms. Knights of the same family had similar elements and you could see that sir Thomas was a younger brother or cousin or nephew of Sir William and make a value judgment based on what you knew of Sir William. This is the same way we make a judgment of the quality on a restaurant based on whether we see two arches or on a field gules, or woman gardant argent on a field noir. While these terms are in the language of heraldry the images they describe are not. No one would mistake Starbucks or McDonalds as knightly.
While the decoration of a shield or garment goes back for thousands of years, heraldry as we know it is documented back to the time of Charlemagne. It started as a way to differentiate between people on the battlefield. In the eras before military uniform, you had to know exactly who was on your side so you did not attack, or be attacked by, one of your fellows. As armor became more comprehensive and helmets began to cover the entire head, a new means of identification became necessary. The natural thing to do was to make sure you used the same design on all your shields and that what you used was different from other people. As more people began to use this new system, someone had to keep track of designs to make sure that repetition did not occur and that designs were recorded and differentiated between sons and cousins etcetera. This led to the creation of Heraldic authorities that kept (and still keep) roles of arms and titles and control who is granted what arms and how close to the original familial arms they can be.
The initial designs were simple ones. Shapes of one color, or tincture, were placed on fields of another. The only real rule of early heraldry was that you did not place a color on another color. If the field was red, the symbol had to be silver or gold. Black was occasionally acceptable for either tincture or metal. Simple designs were quickly used up and more complex symbols began to be used. As families grew and armigerous , or arms bearing, families intermarried and carried both arms going forward through processes called impaling or quartering, designs got more and more elaborate. This could be taken to the extreme such as the case of the Grenville Armorial, with its 719 quarterings. This is an exceptional example though. Most Arms only had 16 quartering at most and they were often repeated. The other issue was differencing arms from father to son. A father had arms of a saltire noir on a field argent, a black X on a silver shield. He also had six sons. They couldn’t all take his arms, only the eldest could and he had to bear a label on his until his father had passed. The system of cadency was created. This varied from country to country but usually consisted of a label applied to the father’s arms and each point of that label carried a specific type of symbol depending on birth order. Some countries varied this. Scotland for instance used a system of borders to delineate the same thing.
In modern times heraldry has fallen in importance amongst the general population. It has not, however disappeared completely. The family of Kate Middleton was granted a coat of arms before her marriage to Prince William, showing the continued importance of the institution of heraldry to the elites of the United Kingdom. In Scotland the “family” coat of arms does not exist, regardless of what those online family history services tell you. The arms of the family are actually the arms of the chief of the clan of that name and only that person can claim them as their own. It is actually a crime to claim them without a certification of the Lord Lyon, the Scottish heraldic authority. You might think that an egalitarian nation like the United States is beyond such trappings of nobility, but you would be mistaken. There are a few heraldic authorities in the United States, but none who have governmental status. The American College of Heraldry, a private non-profit organization will register your arms giving them some protection from use by others. The only official governmental organization concerned with heraldry is one that goes back to the military roots of heraldry. The Army Institute of Heraldry keeps track of all the coats of arms of all branches of the service and designs, or commissions designs, for new units, ships and awards. The symbolism and association of heraldry continues to be relevant today even beyond the days of using them as a very colorful My Name Is … badge.
For More Information on Heraldry:
By Lindsay Roseberry, Reference Department
Matthew Reilly’s new novel is historical fiction and a mystery, so he’s mixing two genres, rather well. I thought. I wanted to read it because of the historical side, and didn’t really know it was a mystery until I got to into the book.
Suleiman the Magnificent, Sultan (and basically emperor) of the Ottoman Empire has invited all the kings and rulers to send a chess master and representative to take part in the greatest chess match ever. He is a man very few people ever say no to; two Papal representatives attend. Henry VIII of England, whose delegation travels the farthest, decides to send his teen-aged daughter Elizabeth. After all, she is third in line to the throne at this time, and not expected to reign. She is accompanied by several chaperones—her tutor, one lady in waiting, a nice, stalwart couple, and ten guards. Not many guardsmen when going into possibly enemy territory, especially when they can’t enter Istanbul proper… Her tutor happens to be Roger Ascham, worldly, esteemed scholar and solver of mysteries. When a papal representative is murdered, The Sultan asked Roger to investigate. (His name was suggested to the Sultan by Michelangelo.)
There is a lot of name dropping here, but it all could have happened. The story moves along with several more murders, which as it turns out are all connected. Elizabeth learns lessons daily about dealing with nobles and royals from other countries and other religions. I didn’t know all that much about chess, playing the game that is, but I still found it interesting. And as Reilly wrote in the afterword, Elizabeth’s younger years are not that well documented. She could have gone abroad. Elizabeth meets Ivan IV of Russia here (known to history as Ivan the Terrible), who did correspond with her and even proposed to her. History would indeed be different had she accepted.
By Lon Maxwell, Reference Department
Muhammad Ali is a legend. Even though he has passed on he will forever be a legend in the present tense. That is because he was so many things to so many people. Boxer, philanthropist, spokesman, Olympian, activist, father, author; all these words have been used to describe him. So have words like arrogant, controversial, polarizing and confrontational. Who he is to you is entirely dependent upon who and what age you are.
I don’t actually remember a time where I didn’t know who Ali was. One of my first comic books was a DC Comics Collector’s, Muhammad Ali versus Superman. The story was ridiculous, but here was the greatest hero out there and he was working with Superman. At the end he even figured out Clark Kent was Superman. So much for being the “greatest, not the smartest.” I can remember sitting in front of the big Curtis Mathis console TV and watching him fight. My dad was a boxing fan of a sort and even my mom had gotten a bit of the bug from my grandfather. I had seen heavyweights fight before, but nobody fought like Ali. Float like a butterfly wasn’t bravado or a catchphrase, it was his style. Most of the big guys took five or six shots and then hung all over each other until the ref separated them. Ali, however, was amazing. He danced, skipped, and swayed. Even in still photos of his fights you still feel the movement. His hits were spectacular. Those good shots that dropped guys like Frazier and Liston were so quick and so short that it looked like nothing, but the fall said it all. Quick jab and a big man go down to the mat. No other boxer ever captured my attention like that.
As I grew older, I learned more about the man. My sixth grade teacher, Mr. Katko, held him up as one of the great men of our time. This was not because of his boxing, Mr. Katko couldn’t have cared less about sports, it was because of the example he set for inner city kids. I went back and learned more on my own. The young Cassius Clay, Olympic boxer from Louisville, struggling to learn and striving to be the best at what he did. The man of faith who converted to Islam did not care if it was popular, just that it was his faith. The thing that impressed me the most was the draft incident. I grew up surrounded by World War 2 and Vietnam vets. Draft dodger was a term I was very familiar with, but I never heard any of them apply it to Ali. Here is a man who stood up to the authority of his day and said:
“Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go ten thousand miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on brown people in Vietnam while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs and denied simple human rights?.” Muhammad Ali, March 1967
He knew it was controversial. He was told what it could mean to his career and his freedom. He just didn’t care. Ali stood up for his beliefs in defiance of imprisonment and professional loss. He had no way of knowing he would be saved by a Supreme Court ruling or that he would fight his way back to be a champ. He just knew that he was in a position to take a stand that would make people take notice. As a teen, that was the most awesome thing about him.
That’s not to say that I no longer cared about the boxer. I had tried my hand at boxing, fighting as a middleweight. I looked up to the great middleweight of the day, Sugar Ray Leonard, but I wanted to fight like Ali. I fought three bouts, knocked down three times. The third time, I decided that I would not be a punching bag again. The experience made me think even more of Ali, Leonard and all boxers. They persevered in a way I knew I never could, and that demanded respect, the respect of knowing what they did, not just assuming you couldn’t do it.
Finally as a young man I remember watching Muhammed Ali at the 1996 Olympic opening ceremonies. The Parkinson’s that had taken a large part of his life had not stopped him. He’d become a spokesman for the disease, funding research centers and once again using his struggle to highlight the fight of millions. He’d gone to Iraq during the first gulf war, and negotiated the return of 15 hostages. It didn’t stop him from climbing the steps and, hands shaking, light the Olympic torch over Atlanta. I’m not ashamed to admit that I had a tear in my eye watching that.
Muhammed Ali has not passed away. He has transcended this world and moved into the realm of American heroes. He is now of the same stuff as Johnny Appleseed and Davy Crocket. Real and hyperbole. A thousand years from now people may not know Tyson, Foreman, Holyfield or Mayweather but Muhammad Ali will still be taught in schools.
By Lindsay Roseberry, Reference Department
Listen my children and you will hear of the midnight ride of Paul Revere
But has anyone yet heard of the Southern Revere Jack Jouett?
With apologies to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
While most know the story of Paul Revere’s late night ride to warn of the coming British, the ride of John (Jack) Jouett to warn Jefferson and the legislatorsis often forgotten. Jouett was at the right place at the right time to warn Thomas Jefferson and others that the British were coming—in Virginia. In 1781, he was the captain of the Virginia Militia, stationed in Louisa, VA, still a small town even today. On June 3, he was sleeping out on the lawn of the Cuckoo Tavern in Louisa County, VA, when the noise of many horses racing down the street woke him up. (Why he was sleeping outside was not known. It could be the tavern had no rooms, or the rooms they had were full. It could have been a fine night for sleeping outdoors. By all accounts, he was a big man, said to be 6’4” and around 220 pounds—perhaps the ground was more comfortable than a too-short bed.)
He sat up and saw they were a legion of British loyalist dragoons, a unit of 250 soldiers! These were American colonists loyal to Britain, and wore white coats instead of red. They were especially hated; they were led by Col. Banastre Tarleton’s. (Tarleton was nick-named the Butcher, so we know what the colonists thought of him. He earned this nickname at another battle when his troops killed colonists attempting to surrender.) Jouett saw that Tarleton was leading them and realized at once that their objective was the Virginia General Assembly, meeting in Charlottesville.
Why were they meeting in Charlottesville? The British army, with assistance from Benedict Arnold, had just weeks ago captured the capitol of Virginia—Richmond. Jefferson had suggested they all retreat to Charlottesville, close to his home of Monticello. Thomas Jefferson, Patrick Henry and other radical “rebels” were meeting there in the General Assembly; Jefferson was governor at the time. The problem was that the assembly was not protected by any military presence. The Continental arm was either with General Washington in the north or with General Lafayette who was too far away to get there in time. Jouett knew all of this in an instant, and knew he had to warn the assembly members.
The road from Cuckoo, a tiny village in Louisa County, ran northwesterly to the gap in the Southwest Mountains, a distance of about 38 miles to Charlottesville. Jack was familiar with the route because his father owned the Swan Tavern there, sitting just across from the courthouse. Understanding that the assembly needed to be warned immediately, he rode off on his horse Sallie along the rough mountain road (knowing the soldiers were taking the main road) in the dark with just the light of the moon to guide his way. It was said that the scars from the lashing of trees and bushes from this wild ride marked his face for the rest of his life. (For contrast, Paul Revere rode for only 15 miles over good roads.) He made it to Monticello at dawn, rousting Jefferson and those who were staying at his house.
Jefferson got his family out, got his important documents and then realized he had left his sword. He went back and saw the dragoons enter his yard. Some reports say he hid in a hollow tree to hide from them. Jouett then rode on to Charlottesville and warned the assemblymen; most of whom were staying at the Swan Tavern. Only seven were captured by Tarleton and his men. Thanks to Jack Jouett’s ride, four signers of the Declaration of Independence escaped capture. So did a future president, the father of another future president, and many others.
So why haven’t you heard of Jack Jouett before? He was not already famous like Revere was when he rode to Charlottesville. True, he was honored by the Virginia Assembly—they gave him two silver pistols and a jeweled sword. More likely, you never heard of him because he moved to the Virginia frontier after the Revolutionary War was over. That Virginia frontier turned into the state of Kentucky. In 1782, he moved to Harrodsburg, KY, which had recently been established. He married and had twelve children, one of whom was the famous portrait painter Matthew Harris Jouett. He was friends with Andrew Jackson, served four terms in the Kentucky legislature and was a well-regarded planter and horse breeder. Sallie, his brave and valiant horse, was the start of a long line of thoroughbred race horses. Jack Jouett died in 1822, and was buried on his farm.
In an attempt to help promote Jouett’s memory, the Charlottesville Daily Press published the following poem on October 26, 1909:
Hearken good people: awhile abide
And hear of stout Jack Jouett’s ride;
How he rushed his steed, nor stopped nor stayed
Till he warned the people of Tarleton’s raid.
The moment his warning note was rehearsed
The State Assembly was quickly dispersed.
In their haste to escape, they did not stop
Until they had crossed the mountain top.
And upon the other side come down.
To resume their sessions in Staunton Town.
His parting steed he spurred,
In haste to carry the warning
To that greatest statesman of any age,
The Immortal Monticello Sage.
Here goes to thee, Jack Jouett!
Lord keep thy memory green;
You made the greatest ride, sir,
That ever yet was seen.”