A&E/1939 - Revision history

Robbie at 21:56, 1 March 2026

2026-03-01T21:56:09Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 15:56, 1 March 2026
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	<p>Looking back, I don't fully understand why my parents didn't just move to a larger apartment at a less expensive address, a short taxi ride to work near Harold Square for Margot and a few stops on the subway downtown for Joe. But they made a more radical move instead, feasible but unexpected, surely surprising to friends and acquaintances. And it worked out well, for me at least, once I slowly perceived and grasped the opportunities it opened up throughout my childhood and youth. I doubt that my parents explicitly consulted me in the matter, but I'm sure that in pondering the move together they have would said, among other things, "and it will be good for Robert." I don't know what part my actions and responses at the time played in their decision, but it is clear to me looking back that I wasn't actually making a life I could call my own in my situation in the city. They never said as much, but I believe they sensed it. Years later, off in boarding school, reading <i>Catcher in the Rye</i>, I didn't experience Holden Caulfield disinterestedly as Salinger's masterful literary creation. I recoiled from Holden as a repugnant persona of myself, the person whom I would have been had we stayed pat on Gramercy Place.</p>		<p>Looking back, I don't fully understand why my parents didn't just move to a larger apartment at a less expensive address, a short taxi ride to work near Harold Square for Margot and a few stops on the subway downtown for Joe. But they made a more radical move instead, feasible but unexpected, surely surprising to friends and acquaintances. And it worked out well, for me at least, once I slowly perceived and grasped the opportunities it opened up throughout my childhood and youth. I doubt that my parents explicitly consulted me in the matter, but I'm sure that in pondering the move together they have would said, among other things, "and it will be good for Robert." I don't know what part my actions and responses at the time played in their decision, but it is clear to me looking back that I wasn't actually making a life I could call my own in my situation in the city. They never said as much, but I believe they sensed it. Years later, off in boarding school, reading <i>Catcher in the Rye</i>, I didn't experience Holden Caulfield disinterestedly as Salinger's masterful literary creation. I recoiled from Holden as a repugnant persona of myself, the person whom I would have been had we stayed pat on Gramercy Place.</p>

	<p>Making the farm, not only our primary residence, but our only place of residence, significantly changed the meaning the farm had for them. Up to that time, they perceived and experienced "the farm" aspirationally, their incarnation of the ancient concept of "a place in the country," allusions to which abound in Western literature. A place in the country supplements the home in the city with a respite from urban pressures, a social resource in interacting with friends, and perhaps a way of converting consumption expenditures into a growing investment asset through steady improvements to the property. Within their urban social and professional ethos, a place in the country came with important continuities, most importantly, the whole habitus of affluent, well-educated, privileged urbanity. If you had a house in the country, you might spend time in the country, but you were not of the country. For the adults, their urban ethos would remain central, defining the norms and expectations of life, reinforced by settled peer-groups and constraints of employment. By giving up their urban base, Margot and Joe slipped the anchor, and their place in the country started a cultural drift.</p>		<p>Making the farm, not only our primary residence, but our only place of residence, significantly changed the meaning the farm had for them. Up to that time, they perceived and experienced "the farm" aspirationally, their incarnation of the ancient concept of "a place in the country," allusions to which abound in Western literature. A place in the country supplements the home in the city with a respite from urban pressures, a social resource in interacting with friends, and perhaps a way of converting consumption expenditures into a growing investment asset through steady improvements to the property. Within their urban social and professional ethos, a place in the country came with important continuities, most importantly, the whole habitus of affluent, well-educated, privileged urbanity. If you had a house in the country, you might spend time in the country, but you were not of the country. For the adults, their urban ethos would remain central, defining the norms and expectations of life, reinforced by settled peer-groups and constraints of employment. By giving up their urban base, Margot and Joe slipped the anchor, and their place in the country started a cultural drift.</p>

	<p>Margot and Joe might have thought they were making the farm function, not as their place in the country, but as a suburban home. Suburban life was catching on around New York prior to the war, and it became a dominant trend by the early 1950s. The suburb, a distinct locale, housed nuclear families, each in a separate house with the husband, the breadwinner commuting to work outside the suburb, and the wife, the homemaker caring primarily within the suburban locale for their daily needs and those of their children. Neither Margot or Joe grew up with experience of suburban life and coming to New York, neither formed close friendships with people who lived in the suburbs.</p>		<p>Margot and Joe might have thought they were making the farm function, not as their place in the country, but as a suburban home. Suburban life was catching on around New York prior to the war, and it became a dominant trend by the early 1950s. The suburb, a distinct locale, housed nuclear families, each in a separate house with the husband, the breadwinner commuting to work outside the suburb, and the wife, the homemaker caring primarily within the suburban locale for their daily needs and those of their children. Neither Margot or Joe grew up with experience of suburban life and coming to New York, neither formed close friendships with people who lived in the suburbs.</p>

Robbie at 02:22, 1 March 2026

2026-03-01T02:22:56Z

Show changes

Robbie at 01:01, 1 March 2026

2026-03-01T01:01:33Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 19:01, 28 February 2026
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	<blockquote>In Robert McClintock’s work, community is not a static, abstract entity, but the vital, interpersonal matrix within which human beings conduct their lives, exercise judgment, and form themselves. He rejects the idea that a person can be understood in isolation; instead, human existence is deeply entwined with others, making the conduct of life a profoundly shared endeavor. [[A&E/Community\|NotebookLM]]</blockquote>		<blockquote>In Robert McClintock’s work, community is not a static, abstract entity, but the vital, interpersonal matrix within which human beings conduct their lives, exercise judgment, and form themselves. He rejects the idea that a person can be understood in isolation; instead, human existence is deeply entwined with others, making the conduct of life a profoundly shared endeavor. [[A&E/Community\|NotebookLM]]</blockquote>

	<p>>We moved to the farm at an opportune time as I was discovering myself in the world, not simply seeing the world in me. And the move to the farm coincided in an extended sense with a huge change in the nation, pervading each locality and region from 1942 through 1945. A kind of openness and equality presided as everyone learned to cope with rationing, to find their place in the war effort, and to support the men and women who were going off to fight for the future of us all. From 3 to 6, I acquired intimations of solidarity that I think have had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities. Although often alone, I wasn't lonely, and I had a sense of being part of a living community. </p>		<p>We moved to the farm at an opportune time as I was discovering myself in the world, not simply seeing the world in me. And the move to the farm coincided in an extended sense with a huge change in the nation, pervading each locality and region from 1942 through 1945. A kind of openness and equality presided as everyone learned to cope with rationing, to find their place in the war effort, and to support the men and women who were going off to fight for the future of us all. From 3 to 6, I acquired intimations of solidarity that I think have had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities. Although often alone, I wasn't lonely, and I had a sense of being part of a living community. </p>

	<p>My birth, I think, changed my parents relations to their families. From childhood, my father knew twin boys, first cousins a few years younger than he was, who after college had also moved east, John to Boston and Rob to Washington, DC. From 1941 to 1948 or so, Joe and Margot started to coordinate their vacations with John and Petey, his wife, to rent a house together in one or another east coast town by the ocean for mid-June to mid-July. They had a growing brood of children, first Suzie, a few months young than me, followed by Jock, Lucia, and Debbie, at year plus intervals, and then Michael, after a several year gaps. For a month a year, they were the closest I had to brothers and sisters, but at the age of 10 other interests transformed shared vacations into occasional visits and then as distinctive lives filled out it all resolved into personal memories of past summers at the shore.</p>		<p>My birth, I think, changed my parents relations to their families. From childhood, my father knew twin boys, first cousins a few years younger than he was, who after college had also moved east, John to Boston and Rob to Washington, DC. From 1941 to 1948 or so, Joe and Margot started to coordinate their vacations with John and Petey, his wife, to rent a house together in one or another east coast town by the ocean for mid-June to mid-July. They had a growing brood of children, first Suzie, a few months young than me, followed by Jock, Lucia, and Debbie, at year plus intervals, and then Michael, after a several year gaps. For a month a year, they were the closest I had to brothers and sisters, but at the age of 10 other interests transformed shared vacations into occasional visits and then as distinctive lives filled out it all resolved into personal memories of past summers at the shore.</p>

Robbie at 01:00, 1 March 2026

2026-03-01T01:00:01Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 19:00, 28 February 2026
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	<p>About the time I turned 5, I had a couple experiences that affected my interpersonal comportment. The public mood turned more optimistic as the Normandy landings succeeded and the allied armies quite rapidly advanced across France towards Germany over the summer and early fall. People relaxed a bit and movie theaters filled. I was attentive to war news and charged up about how it was going. Disney had rereleased its 1937 hit, <i>Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs</i> and mother and Marlies took me to see it in Flemington. A movie program then consisted of a cartoon, newsreel, coming attractions, and then the main feature. The newsreels depicted war news, well-produced battle footage, air, sea, or land, whatever would project confidence that the allies were fighting effectively and elicit conviction that the effort was right and just. That day, the newsreel featured the massive bombing offensive against German industrial capacity and urban morale then underway virtually unopposed, the Luftwaffe starving for pilots and fuel. It pictured waves of B-24s and B-17s in bombing formation, P-51s in escort, cutting to footage taken through bomb-sights of bombs dropping and exploding on the urban settings below, all accompanied by martial music, narrated in a strong, patriotic voice. A ripple of enthused acclaim began in the theater and I jumped up on my seat cheering on the bombing.. "Kill the Krauts!" Suddenly, my mother yanked me down and commanded sharply, "Think of Marlies! She hates the Nazis, but the bombs are destroying places she lived and killing persons she lived with." People around us fidgeted, I felt abashed and thankful the newsreel ended and <i>Snow White</i> came on, but I felt badly for Marlies, and told her so, and she thanked me and said the war and the bombing were both necessary and sad, and I began to feel a little better while recognizing that human feelings were difficult and complex.</p>		<p>About the time I turned 5, I had a couple experiences that affected my interpersonal comportment. The public mood turned more optimistic as the Normandy landings succeeded and the allied armies quite rapidly advanced across France towards Germany over the summer and early fall. People relaxed a bit and movie theaters filled. I was attentive to war news and charged up about how it was going. Disney had rereleased its 1937 hit, <i>Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs</i> and mother and Marlies took me to see it in Flemington. A movie program then consisted of a cartoon, newsreel, coming attractions, and then the main feature. The newsreels depicted war news, well-produced battle footage, air, sea, or land, whatever would project confidence that the allies were fighting effectively and elicit conviction that the effort was right and just. That day, the newsreel featured the massive bombing offensive against German industrial capacity and urban morale then underway virtually unopposed, the Luftwaffe starving for pilots and fuel. It pictured waves of B-24s and B-17s in bombing formation, P-51s in escort, cutting to footage taken through bomb-sights of bombs dropping and exploding on the urban settings below, all accompanied by martial music, narrated in a strong, patriotic voice. A ripple of enthused acclaim began in the theater and I jumped up on my seat cheering on the bombing.. "Kill the Krauts!" Suddenly, my mother yanked me down and commanded sharply, "Think of Marlies! She hates the Nazis, but the bombs are destroying places she lived and killing persons she lived with." People around us fidgeted, I felt abashed and thankful the newsreel ended and <i>Snow White</i> came on, but I felt badly for Marlies, and told her so, and she thanked me and said the war and the bombing were both necessary and sad, and I began to feel a little better while recognizing that human feelings were difficult and complex.</p>

	<p>A couple weeks later, a sequel of sorts happened. As a family we would often go out for dinner because then rationing applied to the to the restaurant, not the person. Others did the same, and menus were often aspirational, portions diminutive, and service occasionally over-extended and inexperienced. As usual we went to the Towpath Inn, a fine, charming restaurant secluded on the bank of a defunct canal that cut through the center of New Hope, a town nestled by the Delaware River a couple miles from the farm.		<p>A couple weeks later, a sequel of sorts happened. As a family we would often go out for dinner because then rationing applied to the to the restaurant, not the person. Others did the same, and menus were often aspirational, portions diminutive, and service occasionally over-extended and inexperienced. As usual we went to the Towpath Inn, a fine, charming restaurant secluded on the bank of a defunct canal that cut through the center of New Hope, a town nestled by the Delaware River a couple miles from the farm. A good friend of my parents owned and ran the place and they would call ahead and expect a good table and special service. This evening, things did not start well. After an unexpected wait for a table, it was in an awkward place for my mother to reach. The menus came slowly, and when asked about what was special tonight, the waitress was incommunicative. My mother kept pressing questions, the waitress saying she didn't know. I was feeling more and more uncomfortable at my mother's rudeness, and when she asked in a loud voice, "How can you be so dumb?", I jumped up on my chair and shouted at her, "You shouldn't talk to other people like that! She's a person, too!" I had learned from what had happened in the movie theater no long before, but as they say, "a little learning is a dangerous thing."</p>

			<p>A feature of the Inn were the tall shade trees growing next to the towpath, the biggest of which had a well-built tree house with a staircase up to it. At my outburst, my father very sternly instructed me to go to the tree house and not come down until they had finished their dinner. He almost never reprimanded or commanded me, usually preferring to calmly reason and suggest, and I was so astonished I immediately did as he said, feeling confused, believing what I said was right an just. My mother got ahold of herself, the owner came out and explained how they were short staffed. I believe my mother apologized to the waitress. I stewed in my confusion until after a while they finished eating ad called me down and we all went home. On the way, my mother said that she had been wrong in treating the waitress rudely and that I had been right in saying that she shouldn't have said what she said in the tone she had used. She then asked if I understood why my father had reprimanded me. I said I didn't really understand. If I was correct in objecting, why was he remaining quiet and then reprimanding me? She explained that he was quietly calming her and beginning to have effect. But I hadn't noticed and leaped up yelling at her. He rebuked me for saying the right thing in a very inappropriate way. I took that in, seeing the whole situation i somewhat different way, learning something about the complexity of interpersonal interaction in public settings from his unexpected rebuke. But wondered then, and still wonder now, whether my father's respect for the appropriate measure, and my respect for it too in later emulation of him, may not often lead to a problematic passivity in practice. But life goes on....</p>

	==== Exploring ====		==== Exploring ====

Robbie at 18:06, 28 February 2026

2026-02-28T18:06:59Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 12:06, 28 February 2026
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	<p>About the time I turned 5, I had a couple experiences that affected my interpersonal comportment. The public mood turned more optimistic as the Normandy landings succeeded and the allied armies quite rapidly advanced across France towards Germany over the summer and early fall. People relaxed a bit and movie theaters filled. I was attentive to war news and charged up about how it was going. Disney had rereleased its 1937 hit, <i>Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs</i> and mother and Marlies took me to see it in Flemington. A movie program then consisted of a cartoon, newsreel, coming attractions, and then the main feature. The newsreels depicted war news, well-produced battle footage, air, sea, or land, whatever would project confidence that the allies were fighting effectively and elicit conviction that the effort was right and just. That day, the newsreel featured the massive bombing offensive against German industrial capacity and urban morale then underway virtually unopposed, the Luftwaffe starving for pilots and fuel. It pictured waves of B-24s and B-17s in bombing formation, P-51s in escort, cutting to footage taken through bomb-sights of bombs dropping and exploding on the urban settings below, all accompanied by martial music, narrated in a strong, patriotic voice. A ripple of enthused acclaim began in the theater and I jumped up on my seat cheering on the bombing.. "Kill the Krauts!" Suddenly, my mother yanked me down and commanded sharply, "Think of Marlies! She hates the Nazis, but the bombs are destroying places she lived and killing persons she lived with." People around us fidgeted, I felt abashed and thankful the newsreel ended and <i>Snow White</i> came on, but I felt badly for Marlies, and told her so, and she thanked me and said the war and the bombing were both necessary and sad, and I began to feel a little better while recognizing that human feelings were difficult and complex.</p>		<p>About the time I turned 5, I had a couple experiences that affected my interpersonal comportment. The public mood turned more optimistic as the Normandy landings succeeded and the allied armies quite rapidly advanced across France towards Germany over the summer and early fall. People relaxed a bit and movie theaters filled. I was attentive to war news and charged up about how it was going. Disney had rereleased its 1937 hit, <i>Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs</i> and mother and Marlies took me to see it in Flemington. A movie program then consisted of a cartoon, newsreel, coming attractions, and then the main feature. The newsreels depicted war news, well-produced battle footage, air, sea, or land, whatever would project confidence that the allies were fighting effectively and elicit conviction that the effort was right and just. That day, the newsreel featured the massive bombing offensive against German industrial capacity and urban morale then underway virtually unopposed, the Luftwaffe starving for pilots and fuel. It pictured waves of B-24s and B-17s in bombing formation, P-51s in escort, cutting to footage taken through bomb-sights of bombs dropping and exploding on the urban settings below, all accompanied by martial music, narrated in a strong, patriotic voice. A ripple of enthused acclaim began in the theater and I jumped up on my seat cheering on the bombing.. "Kill the Krauts!" Suddenly, my mother yanked me down and commanded sharply, "Think of Marlies! She hates the Nazis, but the bombs are destroying places she lived and killing persons she lived with." People around us fidgeted, I felt abashed and thankful the newsreel ended and <i>Snow White</i> came on, but I felt badly for Marlies, and told her so, and she thanked me and said the war and the bombing were both necessary and sad, and I began to feel a little better while recognizing that human feelings were difficult and complex.</p>

	<p>A couple weeks later, a sequel of sorts happened.		<p>A couple weeks later, a sequel of sorts happened. As a family we would often go out for dinner because then rationing applied to the to the restaurant, not the person. Others did the same, and menus were often aspirational, portions diminutive, and service occasionally over-extended and inexperienced. As usual we went to the Towpath Inn, a fine, charming restaurant secluded on the bank of a defunct canal that cut through the center of New Hope, a town nestled by the Delaware River a couple miles from the farm.

Robbie at 02:17, 28 February 2026

2026-02-28T02:17:07Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 20:17, 27 February 2026
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	<p><i>Slovenly Peter</i> works like a prototypical comic book with 10 very brief "stories," 1 to 4 panels each, all disapproving undesirable behaviors, some depicted in very violent and grotesque pictures, a boy who sucks his thumb having his thumbs cut off by a weird scissors-man or a girl playing with matches burning herself into a pile of ashes. Other stories are somewhat less dire, depicting something like slap-stick, a hunter, chased by a hare, who's stolen the hunter's gun, and the comedy of error resulting when the hare finally fires at the hunter. If one reads <i>Slovenly Peter</i> as a spectator, it is very frightening and distasteful, making it very hard to understand how it could have become a highly popular children's book mid-nineteenth-century. The matter at issue in most of the stories touches on an actual issue in most children's lives—cleanliness, bullying, resisting temptation, watching where you're going, comporting oneself appropriately, etc. The consequences are extreme or ironic in such an outlandish way that most children would object and say that it was not right—the consequence depicted was too extreme and wouldn't actually fix the problem. Read as spectator, it's repelling. But read thoughtfully, concentrating on what's problematic in the behavior at issue and not on the frightening spectacle of its resolution, the book ceases to depict horrid scenes, but to stimulate thinking about ordinary problems about conduct, rules, habits, interactions with others, simple self-care. <i>Slovenly Peter</i> did not become my favorite book, but it made aware early in my reading experience that feeling <i>likes</i> and <i>dislikes</i> for what's on the page does not respond adequately to well crafted words and images. In a thumbs-up, thumbs-down world, the Scissors Man has much to do.</p>		<p><i>Slovenly Peter</i> works like a prototypical comic book with 10 very brief "stories," 1 to 4 panels each, all disapproving undesirable behaviors, some depicted in very violent and grotesque pictures, a boy who sucks his thumb having his thumbs cut off by a weird scissors-man or a girl playing with matches burning herself into a pile of ashes. Other stories are somewhat less dire, depicting something like slap-stick, a hunter, chased by a hare, who's stolen the hunter's gun, and the comedy of error resulting when the hare finally fires at the hunter. If one reads <i>Slovenly Peter</i> as a spectator, it is very frightening and distasteful, making it very hard to understand how it could have become a highly popular children's book mid-nineteenth-century. The matter at issue in most of the stories touches on an actual issue in most children's lives—cleanliness, bullying, resisting temptation, watching where you're going, comporting oneself appropriately, etc. The consequences are extreme or ironic in such an outlandish way that most children would object and say that it was not right—the consequence depicted was too extreme and wouldn't actually fix the problem. Read as spectator, it's repelling. But read thoughtfully, concentrating on what's problematic in the behavior at issue and not on the frightening spectacle of its resolution, the book ceases to depict horrid scenes, but to stimulate thinking about ordinary problems about conduct, rules, habits, interactions with others, simple self-care. <i>Slovenly Peter</i> did not become my favorite book, but it made aware early in my reading experience that feeling <i>likes</i> and <i>dislikes</i> for what's on the page does not respond adequately to well crafted words and images. In a thumbs-up, thumbs-down world, the Scissors Man has much to do.</p>

			<p>About the time I turned 5, I had a couple experiences that affected my interpersonal comportment. The public mood turned more optimistic as the Normandy landings succeeded and the allied armies quite rapidly advanced across France towards Germany over the summer and early fall. People relaxed a bit and movie theaters filled. I was attentive to war news and charged up about how it was going. Disney had rereleased its 1937 hit, <i>Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs</i> and mother and Marlies took me to see it in Flemington. A movie program then consisted of a cartoon, newsreel, coming attractions, and then the main feature. The newsreels depicted war news, well-produced battle footage, air, sea, or land, whatever would project confidence that the allies were fighting effectively and elicit conviction that the effort was right and just. That day, the newsreel featured the massive bombing offensive against German industrial capacity and urban morale then underway virtually unopposed, the Luftwaffe starving for pilots and fuel. It pictured waves of B-24s and B-17s in bombing formation, P-51s in escort, cutting to footage taken through bomb-sights of bombs dropping and exploding on the urban settings below, all accompanied by martial music, narrated in a strong, patriotic voice. A ripple of enthused acclaim began in the theater and I jumped up on my seat cheering on the bombing.. "Kill the Krauts!" Suddenly, my mother yanked me down and commanded sharply, "Think of Marlies! She hates the Nazis, but the bombs are destroying places she lived and killing persons she lived with." People around us fidgeted, I felt abashed and thankful the newsreel ended and <i>Snow White</i> came on, but I felt badly for Marlies, and told her so, and she thanked me and said the war and the bombing were both necessary and sad, and I began to feel a little better while recognizing that human feelings were difficult and complex.</p>

			<p>A couple weeks later, a sequel of sorts happened.



	==== Exploring ====		==== Exploring ====

Robbie at 21:55, 27 February 2026

2026-02-27T21:55:20Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 15:55, 27 February 2026
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	~~lawton~~== 1939-1961: Childhood and Youth ==		== 1939-1961: Childhood and Youth ==
	<blockquote><big>Primal Ignorance</big><br>		<blockquote><big>Primal Ignorance</big><br>
	Based on Robert McClintock's writings, particularly his later work on the ''StudyPlace'' project and ''Enough'', he addresses the concept of '''"primal ignorance"''' as the fundamental existential condition of human life. Far from being a mere lack of data, he views this ignorance as the '''vital starting point''' for all authentic education and self-formation. [[A&E/Primal Ignorance\|NotebookLM]]		Based on Robert McClintock's writings, particularly his later work on the ''StudyPlace'' project and ''Enough'', he addresses the concept of '''"primal ignorance"''' as the fundamental existential condition of human life. Far from being a mere lack of data, he views this ignorance as the '''vital starting point''' for all authentic education and self-formation. [[A&E/Primal Ignorance\|NotebookLM]]
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	<p>With no strong sense of purpose, he proceeded to Columbia where he studied history in a genteel way, perhaps for a doctorate and possibly thereby, a college teaching career. As the master said, the youth "learns sportfully, seriousness comes on him by surprise." It was the latter '20s, carefree in spirit while circumstances were quietly becoming adverse: lumber became a troubled commodity, the family's finances worsened, and his father's health declined. A year before the panic, Joe saw that the prospects of Franklin Trunkey McClintock were decidedly declining. He sensed he needed an income, and to get one, Joe gave up his academic idylls, landing a good job in investment banking at Brown Brothers & Co., with thanks to his college connections. As the Crash of '29 and the ensuing Depression washed over everyone, corporate mergers and the 1933 Banking Act transferred Joe and his job, more or less unchanged, to a newly formed Harriman, Ripley, & Co., my father's employer throughout my childhood and youth.</p>		<p>With no strong sense of purpose, he proceeded to Columbia where he studied history in a genteel way, perhaps for a doctorate and possibly thereby, a college teaching career. As the master said, the youth "learns sportfully, seriousness comes on him by surprise." It was the latter '20s, carefree in spirit while circumstances were quietly becoming adverse: lumber became a troubled commodity, the family's finances worsened, and his father's health declined. A year before the panic, Joe saw that the prospects of Franklin Trunkey McClintock were decidedly declining. He sensed he needed an income, and to get one, Joe gave up his academic idylls, landing a good job in investment banking at Brown Brothers & Co., with thanks to his college connections. As the Crash of '29 and the ensuing Depression washed over everyone, corporate mergers and the 1933 Banking Act transferred Joe and his job, more or less unchanged, to a newly formed Harriman, Ripley, & Co., my father's employer throughout my childhood and youth.</p>

	<p>My mother took a less predictable and more interesting path. Marguerite de Bruyn Kops, Margot for short, was born in 1903 in North Dakota, spending most of her infancy in the polio sanatorium, 200 miles away from her family, returning in 1905 to her home in Lawton, a tiny town in the north-east of the state. It was a new town, constructed by the railroad as a location for supplying locomotives with water for steam to power freight trains moving grain and other raw materials from Saskatchewan and Manitoba for production and distribution in the American mid-west. Her father, a 2nd generation immigrant from the Netherlands, and his wife, Annie, ran ran a lumber ~~company~~ serving the 250 townspeople and the surrounding ~~farming~~ families there. Margot was the middle child of five, bright and active despite her disabilities from polio.</p>		<p>My mother took a less predictable and more interesting path. Marguerite de Bruyn Kops, Margot for short, was born in 1903 in North Dakota, spending most of her infancy in the polio sanatorium, 200 miles away from her family, returning in 1905 to her home in Lawton, a tiny town in the north-east of the state. It was a new town, constructed by the railroad as a location for supplying locomotives with water for steam to power freight trains moving grain and other raw materials from Saskatchewan and Manitoba for production and distribution in the American mid-west. Her father, a 2nd generation immigrant from the Netherlands, and his wife, Annie, ran ran a lumber business serving the 250 townspeople and the surrounding homesteading families there. Margot was the middle child of five, bright and active despite her disabilities from polio.</p>

	<p>She went to the University of North Dakota wanting to study mathematics but had to major in home economics—officially only male students were deemed capable of completing a mathematics major. Margot adapted and earned her BA in 1925, along the way developing a flair for dress design and a long friendship with Marian Stephenson, a photography instructor. After Margot's graduation, she and Marion went to Paris to apprentice in Parisian couture, Marian in photography and Margot in design. Three years later, they disembarked in New York, eager to make it there. Margot began at the bottom, designing lady's underwear. And she got ahead because she understood stuff—fabrics, cutting, stitching from her time in Paris and how to do math standing on her feet from he BA in Home Ec at UND.</p>		<p>She went to the University of North Dakota wanting to study mathematics but had to major in home economics—officially only male students were deemed capable of completing a mathematics major. Margot adapted and earned her BA in 1925, along the way developing a flair for dress design and a long friendship with Marian Stephenson, a photography instructor. After Margot's graduation, she and Marion went to Paris to apprentice in Parisian couture, Marian in photography and Margot in design. Three years later, they disembarked in New York, eager to make it there. Margot began at the bottom, designing lady's underwear. And she got ahead because she understood stuff—fabrics, cutting, stitching from her time in Paris and how to do math standing on her feet from he BA in Home Ec at UND.</p>
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	<blockquote>In Robert McClintock’s work, community is not a static, abstract entity, but the vital, interpersonal matrix within which human beings conduct their lives, exercise judgment, and form themselves. He rejects the idea that a person can be understood in isolation; instead, human existence is deeply entwined with others, making the conduct of life a profoundly shared endeavor. [[A&E/Community\|NotebookLM]]</blockquote>		<blockquote>In Robert McClintock’s work, community is not a static, abstract entity, but the vital, interpersonal matrix within which human beings conduct their lives, exercise judgment, and form themselves. He rejects the idea that a person can be understood in isolation; instead, human existence is deeply entwined with others, making the conduct of life a profoundly shared endeavor. [[A&E/Community\|NotebookLM]]</blockquote>

	<p>Although often alone, I wasn't lonely, and I had a sense of being part of a living community. My ~~advent~~, I think, changed my parents relations to their families. From childhood, my father knew twin boys, ~~his~~ first cousins, a few years younger than he was, who had also moved east, John to Boston and Rob to Washington, DC. From 1941 to 1948 or so, Joe and Margot started to coordinate their vacations with John and Petey, his wife, to rent a house together ~~for mid-June to mid-July,~~ in one or another east coast town by the ocean. They had growing brood of children, first Suzie, a few months young than me, followed by Jock, Lucia, and Debbie, at year plus intervals, and then Michael, after a several year gaps. For a month a year, they were the closest I had to brothers and sisters, but at the age of 10 other interests transformed shared vacations into occasional visits and then as distinctive lives filled out it all resolved into personal memories of past summers at the shore.</p>		<p>>We moved to the farm at an opportune time as I was discovering myself in the world, not simply seeing the world in me. And the move to the farm coincided in an extended sense with a huge change in the nation, pervading each locality and region from 1942 through 1945. A kind of openness and equality presided as everyone learned to cope with rationing, to find their place in the war effort, and to support the men and women who were going off to fight for the future of us all. From 3 to 6, I acquired intimations of solidarity that I think have had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities. Although often alone, I wasn't lonely, and I had a sense of being part of a living community. </p>

			<p>My birth, I think, changed my parents relations to their families. From childhood, my father knew twin boys, first cousins a few years younger than he was, who after college had also moved east, John to Boston and Rob to Washington, DC. From 1941 to 1948 or so, Joe and Margot started to coordinate their vacations with John and Petey, his wife, to rent a house together in one or another east coast town by the ocean for mid-June to mid-July. They had a growing brood of children, first Suzie, a few months young than me, followed by Jock, Lucia, and Debbie, at year plus intervals, and then Michael, after a several year gaps. For a month a year, they were the closest I had to brothers and sisters, but at the age of 10 other interests transformed shared vacations into occasional visits and then as distinctive lives filled out it all resolved into personal memories of past summers at the shore.</p>

	<p>On my mothers side, I think my birth may have reawakened her sense of family connection. I was not yet 8 months old when Margot took me to Lawton, North Dakota, to visit her parents and the town where she grew up. We did it in style! As infants rarely flew in commercial aviation in 1940, one of the New York dailies ran a big picture of my mother about to go down the steep aisle of a DC-3, with me in a baby basket hanging on her arm. I don't remember that trip, but later in October 1944 we went again, by train on account of the war, to celebrate my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. This trip seems to me lodged in my subliminal memory as an acquired intimation of solidarity among distinctive peers that I believe has had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities.</p>		<p>On my mothers side, I think my birth may have reawakened her sense of family connection. I was not yet 8 months old when Margot took me to Lawton, North Dakota, to visit her parents and the town where she grew up. We did it in style! As infants rarely flew in commercial aviation in 1940, one of the New York dailies ran a big picture of my mother about to go down the steep aisle of a DC-3, with me in a baby basket hanging on her arm. I don't remember that trip, but later in October 1944 we went again, by train on account of the war, to celebrate my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. This trip seems to me lodged in my subliminal memory as an acquired intimation of solidarity among distinctive peers that I believe has had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities.</p>

	<p>Lawton was a community like none other than I have had direct experience of and I believe a 5 year old can in a few days internalize an experience of a different place in such a way that it will be available to the understanding, not as an explicit concept, but as a tacit texture of character and meaning. ~~Lawton~~ officially began in 1902, ~~taking~~ its ~~name~~ from ~~the homesteading section with that name, in northeast North Dakota~~. ~~</p>~~		<p>Lawton was a community like none other than I have had direct experience of and I believe a 5 year old can in a few days internalize an experience of a different place in such a way that it will be available to the understanding, not as an explicit concept, but as a tacit texture of character and meaning. The town officially began in 1902, one of many small towns that the Great Northern Railroad System promoted to feed its network of branches along the line from St. Paul to Seattle. Margot's parents moved to Lawton in 1903 from Michigan City, ND, 30 miles to the southeast, to start a lumber business, in demand as Lawton quickly grew to its mature size of 225 or so. Margot's father was in effect the town builder, overseeing the construction of it church and its school, and throughout his life a leading participant in the religious and educational activities in them. The population was remarkably stable and in 1944 a large percentage of the townspeople, 50% plus, were "old settlers" who came to Lawton by 1910 and lived there together, the lifeforce of the town, since then. My grandparents' Golden Jubilee displayed a community of equals where everyone knew everyone with mutual recognition based on decades of shared experience. My explicit memories of it are all a buzz, but my the occasion stays indelibly as an exemplar of what civic bonding should achieve.</p>

	~~<p>We~~ moved to the ~~farm at an opportune time~~ as I was ~~discovering myself~~ in the ~~world~~, ~~not simply seeing~~ the ~~world in me. And the move to the farm coincided in an extended sense with~~ a ~~huge change~~ in the ~~nation, pervading each locality~~ and ~~region from 1942 through 1945~~. ~~A kind of openness~~ and ~~equality presided as everyone learned to cope with rationing, to find their place~~ in the ~~war effort~~, and ~~to support~~ the ~~men and women who were going off to fight for~~ the ~~future~~ of us all~~. From 3 to 6~~, ~~I acquired intimations of solidarity that I think have had~~ an ~~important role in the formation~~ of my civic ~~sensibilities~~. </p>

			<p>Empathy and reticence.

			==== Friends ====
	<p>And intrepid explorer that I was, I explored those other possibilities as well. Going away from Creamery Road, parallel to 263 toward the village of Solebury, was relatively easy going for a while until I met with some trees and a lot of underbrush and no stream to keep me oriented, so I declared what lay further ahead, i>terra incognita</i>, without knowing the word. The other possibility, up the hill parallel to Creamery Road, away from Route 263, provided an unexpected solution to my lack of friends my own age. I say a solution, but I should probably say an abatement, for in that time, 5 going on 6, and going continuing thereafter, I would make peer-friends with whom I interacted well, but I had difficulty developing, nurturing, and sustaining bonds of friendship. Circumstances kept wrenching me around, but beyond that I had difficulty getting close to others in ways that would recurrently perplex me, perhaps as a significant flaw in my inner self-formation. But for now, one day I went up the hill behind our house and barn, trough a stand of pines, across a patch of fallow and a hedgerow to the large, upper field of the farm, freshly plowed. I sort of walked-hopped-skipped across the furrows, which are not easy going even for full adults, plotting how I would defend my fatherland against the threatening Axis forces that lurked beyond the hedgerow at the edge of the farm. I crouched low at the hedgerow and reconnoitered through a gap in the foliage, ready to deploy my imagined platoon to ambush a formation of enemy tanks and soldiers on the other side.</p>		<p>And intrepid explorer that I was, I explored those other possibilities as well. Going away from Creamery Road, parallel to 263 toward the village of Solebury, was relatively easy going for a while until I met with some trees and a lot of underbrush and no stream to keep me oriented, so I declared what lay further ahead, i>terra incognita</i>, without knowing the word. The other possibility, up the hill parallel to Creamery Road, away from Route 263, provided an unexpected solution to my lack of friends my own age. I say a solution, but I should probably say an abatement, for in that time, 5 going on 6, and going continuing thereafter, I would make peer-friends with whom I interacted well, but I had difficulty developing, nurturing, and sustaining bonds of friendship. Circumstances kept wrenching me around, but beyond that I had difficulty getting close to others in ways that would recurrently perplex me, perhaps as a significant flaw in my inner self-formation. But for now, one day I went up the hill behind our house and barn, trough a stand of pines, across a patch of fallow and a hedgerow to the large, upper field of the farm, freshly plowed. I sort of walked-hopped-skipped across the furrows, which are not easy going even for full adults, plotting how I would defend my fatherland against the threatening Axis forces that lurked beyond the hedgerow at the edge of the farm. I crouched low at the hedgerow and reconnoitered through a gap in the foliage, ready to deploy my imagined platoon to ambush a formation of enemy tanks and soldiers on the other side.</p>

	~~==== Friends ====~~
	<p>Instead, I saw a large, flat lawn, well-mowed, on which two boys, one a little older than me and the other a little younger, were kicking a soccer ball back and forth. My fantasy faded, actuality came into focus, the two boys must live in the comfortable white house there and maybe I can make friends with them. For several minutes I hesitated, wracked by feelings of approach and avoidance. Finally I found a place to climb through the bushes and stepped into sight of the boys, saying "Hi," in a muffled voice. They were surprised at a strange boy like themselves suddenly appearing in their back yard. After a moment, eyeing me, the older one asked. "Where'd you come from?" I said I lived down the hill and asked if I could kick the ball with them, and as we dd that I learned they were Jack and Barry and told them that I was Robbie. It was the first time I had spontaneously initiated a friendship, perhaps for Jack and Barry as well.</p>		<p>Instead, I saw a large, flat lawn, well-mowed, on which two boys, one a little older than me and the other a little younger, were kicking a soccer ball back and forth. My fantasy faded, actuality came into focus, the two boys must live in the comfortable white house there and maybe I can make friends with them. For several minutes I hesitated, wracked by feelings of approach and avoidance. Finally I found a place to climb through the bushes and stepped into sight of the boys, saying "Hi," in a muffled voice. They were surprised at a strange boy like themselves suddenly appearing in their back yard. After a moment, eyeing me, the older one asked. "Where'd you come from?" I said I lived down the hill and asked if I could kick the ball with them, and as we dd that I learned they were Jack and Barry and told them that I was Robbie. It was the first time I had spontaneously initiated a friendship, perhaps for Jack and Barry as well.</p>

Robbie: /* Community */

2026-02-27T02:31:39Z

Community

← Older revision		Revision as of 20:31, 26 February 2026
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	<p>On my mothers side, I think my birth may have reawakened her sense of family connection. I was not yet 8 months old when Margot took me to Lawton, North Dakota, to visit her parents and the town where she grew up. We did it in style! As infants rarely flew in commercial aviation in 1940, one of the New York dailies ran a big picture of my mother about to go down the steep aisle of a DC-3, with me in a baby basket hanging on her arm. I don't remember that trip, but later in October 1944 we went again, by train on account of the war, to celebrate my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. This trip seems to me lodged in my subliminal memory as an acquired intimation of solidarity among distinctive peers that I believe has had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities.</p>		<p>On my mothers side, I think my birth may have reawakened her sense of family connection. I was not yet 8 months old when Margot took me to Lawton, North Dakota, to visit her parents and the town where she grew up. We did it in style! As infants rarely flew in commercial aviation in 1940, one of the New York dailies ran a big picture of my mother about to go down the steep aisle of a DC-3, with me in a baby basket hanging on her arm. I don't remember that trip, but later in October 1944 we went again, by train on account of the war, to celebrate my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. This trip seems to me lodged in my subliminal memory as an acquired intimation of solidarity among distinctive peers that I believe has had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities.</p>

	<p>Lawton was a community like none other than I have had direct experience of and I ~~think~~ a 5 year old can in a few days experience a place</p>		<p>Lawton was a community like none other than I have had direct experience of and I believe a 5 year old can in a few days internalize an experience of a different place in such a way that it will be available to the understanding, not as an explicit concept, but as a tacit texture of character and meaning. Lawton officially began in 1902, taking its name from the homesteading section with that name, in northeast North Dakota. </p>

	<p>We moved to the farm at an opportune time as I was discovering myself in the world, not simply seeing the world in me. And the move to the farm coincided in an extended sense with a huge change in the nation, pervading each locality and region from 1942 through 1945. A kind of openness and equality presided as everyone learned to cope with rationing, to find their place in the war effort, and to support the men and women who were going off to fight for the future of us all. From 3 to 6, I acquired intimations of solidarity that I think have had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities. </p>		<p>We moved to the farm at an opportune time as I was discovering myself in the world, not simply seeing the world in me. And the move to the farm coincided in an extended sense with a huge change in the nation, pervading each locality and region from 1942 through 1945. A kind of openness and equality presided as everyone learned to cope with rationing, to find their place in the war effort, and to support the men and women who were going off to fight for the future of us all. From 3 to 6, I acquired intimations of solidarity that I think have had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities. </p>

Robbie: /* Community */

2026-02-26T02:29:45Z

Community

← Older revision		Revision as of 20:29, 25 February 2026
Line 168:		Line 168:
	<p>Although often alone, I wasn't lonely, and I had a sense of being part of a living community. My advent, I think, changed my parents relations to their families. From childhood, my father knew twin boys, his first cousins, a few years younger than he was, who had also moved east, John to Boston and Rob to Washington, DC. From 1941 to 1948 or so, Joe and Margot started to coordinate their vacations with John and Petey, his wife, to rent a house together for mid-June to mid-July, in one or another east coast town by the ocean. They had growing brood of children, first Suzie, a few months young than me, followed by Jock, Lucia, and Debbie, at year plus intervals, and then Michael, after a several year gaps. For a month a year, they were the closest I had to brothers and sisters, but at the age of 10 other interests transformed shared vacations into occasional visits and then as distinctive lives filled out it all resolved into personal memories of past summers at the shore.</p>		<p>Although often alone, I wasn't lonely, and I had a sense of being part of a living community. My advent, I think, changed my parents relations to their families. From childhood, my father knew twin boys, his first cousins, a few years younger than he was, who had also moved east, John to Boston and Rob to Washington, DC. From 1941 to 1948 or so, Joe and Margot started to coordinate their vacations with John and Petey, his wife, to rent a house together for mid-June to mid-July, in one or another east coast town by the ocean. They had growing brood of children, first Suzie, a few months young than me, followed by Jock, Lucia, and Debbie, at year plus intervals, and then Michael, after a several year gaps. For a month a year, they were the closest I had to brothers and sisters, but at the age of 10 other interests transformed shared vacations into occasional visits and then as distinctive lives filled out it all resolved into personal memories of past summers at the shore.</p>

	<p>On my mothers side, I think my birth may have reawakened her sense of family connection. I was not yet 8 months old when Margot took me to Lawton, North Dakota, to visit her parents and the town where she grew up. We did it in style! As infants rarely flew in commercial aviation in 1940, one of the New York dailies ran a big picture of my mother about to go down the steep aisle of a DC-3, with me in a baby basket hanging on her arm. I don't remember that trip, but later in October 1944 we went again, by train on account of the war, to celebrate my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. Lawton was a community like none other than I had </p>		<p>On my mothers side, I think my birth may have reawakened her sense of family connection. I was not yet 8 months old when Margot took me to Lawton, North Dakota, to visit her parents and the town where she grew up. We did it in style! As infants rarely flew in commercial aviation in 1940, one of the New York dailies ran a big picture of my mother about to go down the steep aisle of a DC-3, with me in a baby basket hanging on her arm. I don't remember that trip, but later in October 1944 we went again, by train on account of the war, to celebrate my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. This trip seems to me lodged in my subliminal memory as an acquired intimation of solidarity among distinctive peers that I believe has had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities.</p>

			<p>Lawton was a community like none other than I have had direct experience of and I think a 5 year old can in a few days experience a place</p>

	<p>We moved to the farm at an opportune time as I was discovering myself in the world, not simply seeing the world in me. And the move to the farm coincided in an extended sense with a huge change in the nation, pervading each locality and region from 1942 through 1945. A kind of openness and equality presided as everyone learned to cope with rationing, to find their place in the war effort, and to support the men and women who were going off to fight for the future of us all. From 3 to 6, I acquired intimations of solidarity that I think have had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities. </p>		<p>We moved to the farm at an opportune time as I was discovering myself in the world, not simply seeing the world in me. And the move to the farm coincided in an extended sense with a huge change in the nation, pervading each locality and region from 1942 through 1945. A kind of openness and equality presided as everyone learned to cope with rationing, to find their place in the war effort, and to support the men and women who were going off to fight for the future of us all. From 3 to 6, I acquired intimations of solidarity that I think have had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities. </p>

Robbie at 02:09, 26 February 2026

2026-02-26T02:09:51Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 20:09, 25 February 2026
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	<blockquote>In Robert McClintock’s work, community is not a static, abstract entity, but the vital, interpersonal matrix within which human beings conduct their lives, exercise judgment, and form themselves. He rejects the idea that a person can be understood in isolation; instead, human existence is deeply entwined with others, making the conduct of life a profoundly shared endeavor. [[A&E/Community\|NotebookLM]]</blockquote>		<blockquote>In Robert McClintock’s work, community is not a static, abstract entity, but the vital, interpersonal matrix within which human beings conduct their lives, exercise judgment, and form themselves. He rejects the idea that a person can be understood in isolation; instead, human existence is deeply entwined with others, making the conduct of life a profoundly shared endeavor. [[A&E/Community\|NotebookLM]]</blockquote>

	<p>Although often alone, I wasn't lonely, and I had a sense of being part of a living community. My advent, I think, changed my parents relations to their families. As infants rarely flew in commercial aviation in ~~1939~~, one of the New York dailies ran a big picture of my mother about to go down the steep aisle of a CD-3, with me in a baby basket hanging on her arm~~, heading to North Dakota to visit grand parents~~. I don't remember that trip, but later in October 1944 we went again by train on account of the war to celebrate my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. Lawton was a community like none other than I had </p>		<p>Although often alone, I wasn't lonely, and I had a sense of being part of a living community. My advent, I think, changed my parents relations to their families. From childhood, my father knew twin boys, his first cousins, a few years younger than he was, who had also moved east, John to Boston and Rob to Washington, DC. From 1941 to 1948 or so, Joe and Margot started to coordinate their vacations with John and Petey, his wife, to rent a house together for mid-June to mid-July, in one or another east coast town by the ocean. They had growing brood of children, first Suzie, a few months young than me, followed by Jock, Lucia, and Debbie, at year plus intervals, and then Michael, after a several year gaps. For a month a year, they were the closest I had to brothers and sisters, but at the age of 10 other interests transformed shared vacations into occasional visits and then as distinctive lives filled out it all resolved into personal memories of past summers at the shore.</p>

			<p>On my mothers side, I think my birth may have reawakened her sense of family connection. I was not yet 8 months old when Margot took me to Lawton, North Dakota, to visit her parents and the town where she grew up. We did it in style! As infants rarely flew in commercial aviation in 1940, one of the New York dailies ran a big picture of my mother about to go down the steep aisle of a DC-3, with me in a baby basket hanging on her arm. I don't remember that trip, but later in October 1944 we went again, by train on account of the war, to celebrate my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. Lawton was a community like none other than I had </p>

	<p>We moved to the farm at an opportune time as I was discovering myself in the world, not simply seeing the world in me. And the move to the farm coincided in an extended sense with a huge change in the nation, pervading each locality and region from 1942 through 1945. A kind of openness and equality presided as everyone learned to cope with rationing, to find their place in the war effort, and to support the men and women who were going off to fight for the future of us all. From 3 to 6, I acquired intimations of solidarity that I think have had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities. </p>		<p>We moved to the farm at an opportune time as I was discovering myself in the world, not simply seeing the world in me. And the move to the farm coincided in an extended sense with a huge change in the nation, pervading each locality and region from 1942 through 1945. A kind of openness and equality presided as everyone learned to cope with rationing, to find their place in the war effort, and to support the men and women who were going off to fight for the future of us all. From 3 to 6, I acquired intimations of solidarity that I think have had an important role in the formation of my civic sensibilities. </p>