The first person on our list today, is a very famous Army officer. John C. Fremont. He was born in 1813, and had a varied and fairly successful career. He was known in his day as "The Pathfinder" for his role in exploring the American West- particularly the routes to California. Granted, he sometimes had a wee bit of trouble along the way. His mother was married, but not to his father, who was hired by the husband to teach his wife French. Sadly, the poor guy didn't realize that he was actually teaching her "The Language of Love" (For best results, read that line in a really bad fake French accent). When hubby found out, the pair ran away. And couldn't marry, because the petition for divorce Hubby filed was denied. At any rate, their oldest son grew up as a bastard, but eventually married the daughter of a prominent senator. Her daddy got funding to explore the Western areas for different reasons, and then got Fremont, a young topographical engineer, appointed to command. Before he left on his first mission, he met a guy named Kit Carson, who turned out to be quite useful to him. Fremont was the first American to see Lake Tahoe, and took a gander at Mount Saint Helens. He played a key role in the capture of California from Mexico during the Mexican War, and served for a time as Military Governor, and later, Senator. Then he ran for President, as the first ever candidate of a brand new party calling themselves The Republicans (this was in 1856). He lost, of course, despite the famous slogan "Free soil, free men, and Frémont". When the Civil War broke out, he was promoted to General, and given command of the Western Theater. While there, he showed a remarkable lack of talent, and arguably a terrific talent for corruption. Then he decided to free the slave in his area. Lincoln wasn't thrilled with him, and asked him to rescind the order. He said he would only do it if ordered. When Lincoln obliged, Fremont sent his wife to Washington to plead his case. Lincoln agreed to see her, but famously greeted her with "Well...?" So we can conclude that it didn't go well. In the end, Fremont was removed from command there. And later, he was superseded from another command in the Shenandoah Valley, at which point he resigned his command and went to home to sulk. Which is where he remained for the duration, since he was a far better sulker than general.
And speaking of things, you know why he ran into trouble in the Shenandoah Valley? Because of Stonewall Jackson, of course! And guess who was also born on this date, in 1824? Why Stonewall Jackson, of course! He was an odd duck, who sucked lemons, frequently kept his arm raised in the air (promoted better circulation, or something) and was a horrible professor at VMI, at least when it came to lecturing. He was, however, quite good at practical demonstrations of artillery. And when the Civil War broke out, he was pretty good at practical demonstrations of all kinds of things! Like how to conduct forced marches, how to appear everywhere at once, how to attack larger forces and be defeated, while still winning the campaign, etc. His motto was "Mystify, Mislead, and Surprise", and he did that to his own subordinates, so one can imagine how mystified the enemy was! Right after completing his incredible Valley Campaign (the end of Fremont, as we alluded to), he moved down to Richmond to help in the Seven Days Battles. He sucked the place up there- his performance was so bad that it's commonly surmised that he was suffering from exhaustion, and was thus unable to perform. The Confederate victory in that campaign was won despite Jackson, as he contributed little to it. But later, in conjunction with James Longstreet, he made a heck of a combination- if Lee was like a boxer, Jackson was his jab, and Longstreet his knockout punch. And they won several battles with that approach. However, Jackson was shot down by his own troops, and then contracted pneumonia. In an amazing coincidence, Lee essentially never won a campaign again after Jackson died- his leadership style was useful only if one had a Jackson to turn mild suggestions into action, and none of Jackson's replacements could do that. So in the end, his death was probably A Good Thing.
Karl Wallenda was born in 1905. He was an acrobat and high wire performer. He once walked across a gorge up to a thousand feet high, for a distance of a quarter mile. Oh, and he did a couple headstands along the way. And he was 65 years old. He died, not surprisingly, when he fell off a wire during a performance, and fell over a hundred feet. At the age of 73. (I remember that!) I think the technical term for his attitude is "crazy sumbitch".
Remember a few weeks ago when we mourned the passing of Major Dick Winters? And we recalled him again when his friend Lewis Nixon was either born or died? Well, Winters birthday was January 21, 1918. We won't go into detail again, except to remind you that if you look up the word "Stud" in the dictionary, it'll tell you to refer to Dick Winters.
Who loves ya, baby? Why it's birthday boy Telly Savalas, of course! He was born in 1922, and probably was bald then too! His mom was a bona-fide Spartan! She was born in Sparti, which is what they call Sparta now. So he could plausibly be descended from one of the 300, though that's obviously just a wild-ass guess by some guy who hasn't really done a lick of research and has no real clue what he's talking about. He started in entertainment as a news director, and moved up to executive producer of a sports show, where he hired an unknown guy by the name of Howard Cosell. However, since Cosell was influential, besides being a poopy-head, we won't hold it against Savalas. He shaved his head for the role of Pilate in The Greatest Story Ever Told, and never grew his hair again! (Which makes him an inspiration to guys like me!) Apparently, he was also a singer! Oh, and his god-daughter was another famous Greek-American performer, the hot Jennifer Aniston. And he was somehow connected to Nicolette Sheridan, speaking of hotties! A really interesting guy!
The somehow-considered-to-be-funny-for-reasons-that-have-always-completely-escaped-me "Comic" Benny Hill was born in 1924. I never got his humor, but that puts him in good company, with the likes of The Three Stooges.
Another American icon was born in 1938, the one and only Wolfman Jack. At the time, he was called Robert Weston Smith though. He was the first person to syndicate a rock music radio show. And he made quite a career out of it, though I thought his shtick wore thin pretty quickly. Sorta like Benny Hill! He died of a heart attack, though I've also heard stories that he liked to tip a bottle occasionally, and by occasionally I mean constantly. Apparently, when he was finishing up what turned out to be his final radio broadcast, he made a comment about how he couldn't wait to get home and hug his wife, since he'd been on the road doing promotional stuff for a few weeks. He got home, hugged his wife, and then keeled over. Which is one of those odd stories that tells us something. Not sure what, exactly, but it tells us something.
On this date in 1941, we got two different singers: Placido Domingo, and Richie Havens. On the surface, one would assume that the '6os protest singer would be the more successful of the two, but Domingo has done a lot of popular stuff over the years. He's best known, to me at least, for his duet with John Denver, a tune called "Perhaps Love". I think that might have helped pave the way for opera singers to branch out into much more contemporary stuff, but I could be crazy. Havens, on the other hand, is a folk hero even today. Some of his stuff, both musically and in terms of his charities, are fairly cool. Other stuff is not so appealing to me. That's the way it goes. Let's just say that if Sean Penn thinks you're awesome, I probably won't.
The very next year came two more singers. The first one (at least here, since I don't know who was actually born first) is Mac Davis, the Texas singer/songwriter who did some great stuff in the 70s- not least of which was appear in "North Dallas Forty" as Seth Maxwell, or as some real life people know him, Don Meredith. (That comparison might not be correct, but a lot of people seem to agree with it). Including Meredith. So there's that. The second singer is Edwin Starr. He did some good stuff too, but he's best known for his anti-Vietnam song "War", which I consider to be only slightly less asinine than Lennon's "Imagine". There are a lot of things one can say about the problems and evils of war, but "what is it good for?" isn't one of them. Gee, it helps get rid of people like Hitler for one thing. It helped end slavery, for another- a little fact which one would think might make an impression on a Black man from Nashville, but what the hell do I know.
And there you have it. Lots of themes today, huh?
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