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Nikolai Rezanov was Russian's envoy to Japan in 1804, sailing there in Russia's first circumnavigation aboard the Nadezhda. This originally English ship was outfitted for the voyage at government expense (Lensen, pp. 133). The captain's cabin was divided in two to accommodate Rezanov on one half (Moessner, pp. 68). As an Active State Councillor (rank 4), he far outranked Captain Krusenstern (rank 9).
Ambassador Rezanov had six men in his suite, including a Lieutenant of the Guards, an Adviser, an Artist, and a Doctor. In all 85 men were aboard, including two natural scientists, an Astronomer, another Doctor, and six officers (Moessner, pp. xxviii). Rezanov quarreled so badly with those officers that he retreated to his cabin for a portion of the voyage (Lensen, pp. 135); the imbroglio was censored by the tsar (Moessner, pp. x).
How big was half of the Nadezhda's captain's cabin? Did Rezanov's suite stay "en suite" with him? Did the doctors and scientists get a cabin or did they have to bunk with the sailors?
- Source: Moessner, "First Russian Voyage around the World"
- Source: Lensen, "The Russian Push Toward Japan"
Unless someone is fortunate enough to come across the ships plans for the Nadezhda immediately prior to this voyage, I think that any answer is going to be largely speculation.
There are few surviving merchant ship plans so it's difficult to determine reliable averages for measurements such as cabin sizes. In addition, cabin partitions were considered fittings (which could be moved, removed and replaced as necessary) and so are often not rendered on ship's construction plans.
An analysis of 18th Century merchant ship interiors, gives an average of 202 square feet for the captain's cabin (with the largest example being 365sq.ft) while accomodation for the other officers gives cabin (if that's not too grand a word for them) sizes of 25-40 sq.ft.
Let's assume that the Nadezhda was overly generous in her captain's accomodation and that this was maximized for the voyage then we could guess that the total cabin space was ~400sq.ft. split equally between the captain (and his officers) and the ambassador (and his staff). In the case of Ambassador Rezanov, this would mean 7 men working (if not necessarily sleeping) in an area of ~200sq.ft. (10ftx20ft). That might seem large enough as an individual bedroom but as your working space for a long voyage that would start to seem pretty cramped.
I've been on board Zr. Ms de Buffel. Admitted, this ship was launched in 1864. It is not a sailing ship, but a steamship and a lot larger. The principle was the same, though. Accommodation for the captain was spacious. In fact, I wouldn't mind if my house was that large! The first officer had a large cabinet to sleep in, the other officers had smaller cabinets. I say cabinet, as it looked like cupboards. Everybody else slept in hammocks.
Rezanov may have outranked the captain on land, but definitely not at sea! There is one master on a ship: the captain. Everybody else is either part of the crew or passenger. Even the czar himself would - on board - not outrank the captain. But it would be a very brave (and foolish) captain to go against the wishes of the czar, of course.
The captain's cabin was used for many functions. For example, meetings could be held there. Or, as in this case, the cabin could be split to accommodate high ranking passengers. Very likely this is what happened. Rezanov would have fairly large accommodation for himself. This entourage would be accommodated to their ranks. The ship's officers probably would have to move to smaller accommodation or hammocks.
Scientists and doctors not part of the crew would almost certainly not get a cabin. At best they shared one with another officer, or they got a hammock.
This is to give you an idea. The Buffel was a much larger and far more modern ship. Thus, shorten everything a good deal to get the idea how Rezanov was accommodated. It is highly likely only the captain and Rezanov slept in beds.
Sailing Ship Decks
Weather Decks are upper decks having no overhead protection from the weather, but sheltering the deck below.
Poop deck, the deck forming the roof of a poop or poop cabin, built on the upper deck and extending from the mizzenmast aft. An exposed partial deck on the stern superstructure of a ship. an exposed partial weather deck on the stern superstructure of a ship. Guns were rarely carried on this deck. It was mainly used as a viewpoint and signalling platform. The poop deck also gave protection to the men at the wheel and provided a roof for the captain's cabin. The ropes controlling the yards (spars) and sails of the main and mizzen masts were operated from the poop deck. The memory of the aftercastle, later to become the quarterdeck, is recorded only in abbreviations of the parts of ship, FX and AX "X" in this instance representing castle. In the course of time the aftercastle became the poop the development of this word, like many things, is conjectural.
Quarter-deck, the part of the upper deck abaft the mainmast, including the poop deck when there is one. A deck which runs unbroken from forward-aft is of course a whole deck and one which goes approximately half the ship's length, like the forecastle deck of a destroyer, is a half deck. Consequently a quarterdeck was roughly a quarter of the ship's length it was a small deck forward of and just below the poop, between poop and mainmast. When the aftercastle disappeared the quarterdeck came into its own. Quarter-deck, the sanctum of the captain and superior officers. The quarterdeck was the nerve center of the ship. In a gun-decked ship, it is the deck below the spar-deck, extending from the mainmast to the cabin bulk-heads.
Great cabin at at the stern provides the most comfortable living space on the ship. It was divided into 3 areas on the largest ships, consisting of the day and dining cabins plus the bed space. These were partitioned from the rest of the deck by wooden panels that could be removed during a battle. This would allow the great cabin to be turned into part of the upper gun deck
The waist is that part of the upper deck between the quarter-deck and forecastle. Waisters. Green hands, or broken-down seamen, are placed in the waist of a man-of-war.
Spar deck is either the upper deck, or sometimes a light deck fitted over the upper deck.
Flush deck, any continuous, unbroken deck from stem to stern.
Upper deck, the highest deck of the hull, extending from stem to stern.
Gun deck, a deck below the spar deck, on which the ship's guns are carried. The central part of the upper gun deck may be uncovered and open to the air. This would give the crew a work area that had plenty of light and was well ventilated. During daylight hours and under the supervision of skilled craftsmen the crew would carry out tasks such as patching sails and repairing ropes.
Upper gun deck is the highest gun deck if there are three gun decks.
main deck is the upper if there are two gun decks.
middle gun deck is the middle gun deck if there are three gun decks.
The lightest guns occupy the highest of the 3 decks, while the heaviest can be found on the lowest deck. This was done to aid the ship's stability while at sea. By placing the heaviest guns on the lowest deck the ship is less likely to capsize in rough weather.
Berth deck, a deck next below the gun deck, where the hammocks of the crew are swung.
Orlop deck, the deck or part of a deck where the cables are stowed, usually below the water line. The deck above the holds in the old ships, what would now be called the platform deck, was known as the orlop deck, a contraction of 'overlap', a word of Dutch origin meaning 'that which runs over the hold'.
Cabin space on the Nadezhda - History
National Aeronautics and Space Administration
Editorial Headnote: On July 28, 1986 Rear Admiral Richard H. Truly, NASA's Associate Administrator for Space Flight and a former astronaut, released this report from Joseph P. Kerwin, biomedical specialist from the Johnson Space Center in Houston, Texas, relating to the deaths of the astronauts in the Challenger accident. Dr. Kerwin had been commissioned to undertake this study soon after the accident on January 28, 1986. A copy of this report is available in the NASA Historical Reference Collection, Hstory Office, NASA Headquarters, Washington, DC.
Associate Administrator for Space Flight
The search for wreckage of the Challenger crew cabin has been completed. A team of engineers and scientists has analyzed the wreckage and all other available evidence in an attempt to determine the cause of death of the Challenger crew. This letter is to report to you on the results of this effort. The findings are inconclusive. The impact of the crew compartment with the ocean surface was so violent that evidence of damage occurring in the seconds which followed the explosion was masked. Our final conclusions are:
- the cause of death of the Challenger astronauts cannot be positively determined
- the forces to which the crew were exposed during Orbiter breakup were probably not sufficient to cause death or serious injury and
- the crew possibly, but not certainly, lost consciousness in the seconds following Orbiter breakup due to in-flight loss of crew module pressure.
Our inspection and analyses revealed certain facts which support the above conclusions, and these are related below: The forces on the Orbiter at breakup were probably too low to cause death or serious injury to the crew but were sufficient to separate the crew compartment from the forward fuselage, cargo bay, nose cone, and forward reaction control compartment. The forces applied to the Orbiter to cause such destruction clearly exceed its design limits. The data available to estimate the magnitude and direction of these forces included ground photographs and measurements from onboard accelerometers, which were lost two-tenths of a second after vehicle breakup.
Two independent assessments of these data produced very similar estimates. The largest acceleration pulse occurred as the Orbiter forward fuselage separated and was rapidly pushed away from the external tank. It then pitched nose-down and was decelerated rapidly by aerodynamic forces. There are uncertainties in our analysis the actual breakup is not visible on photographs because the Orbiter was hidden by the gaseous cloud surrounding the external tank. The range of most probable maximum accelerations is from 12 to 20 G's in the vertical axis. These accelerations were quite brief. In two seconds, they were below four G's in less than ten seconds, the crew compartment was essentially in free fall. Medical analysis indicates that these accelerations are survivable, and that the probability of major injury to crew members is low.
After vehicle breakup, the crew compartment continued its upward trajectory, peaking at an altitude of 65,000 feet approximately 25 seconds after breakup. It then descended striking the ocean surface about two minutes and forty-five seconds after breakup at a velocity of about 207 miles per hour. The forces imposed by this impact approximated 200 G's, far in excess of the structural limits of the crew compartment or crew survivability levels.
The separation of the crew compartment deprived the crew of Orbiter-supplied oxygen, except for a few seconds supply in the lines. Each crew member's helmet was also connected to a personal egress air pack (PEAP) containing an emergency supply of breathing air (not oxygen) for ground egress emergencies, which must be manually activated to be available. Four PEAP's were recovered, and there is evidence that three had been activated. The nonactivated PEAP was identified as the Commander's, one of the others as the Pilot's, and the remaining ones could not be associated with any crew member. The evidence indicates that the PEAP's were not activated due to water impact.
It is possible, but not certain, that the crew lost consciousness due to an in-flight loss of crew module pressure. Data to support this is:
- The accident happened at 48,000 feet, and the crew cabin was at that altitude or higher for almost a minute. At that altitude, without an oxygen supply, loss of cabin pressure would have caused rapid loss of consciousness and it would not have been regained before water impact.
- PEAP activation could have been an instinctive response to unexpected loss of cabin pressure.
- If a leak developed in the crew compartment as a result of structural damage during or after breakup (even if the PEAP's had been activated), the breathing air available would not have prevented rapid loss of consciousness.
- The crew seats and restraint harnesses showed patterns of failure which demonstrates that all the seats were in place and occupied at water impact with all harnesses locked. This would likely be the case had rapid loss of consciousness occurred, but it does not constitute proof.
Much of our effort was expended attempting to determine whether a loss of cabin pressure occurred. We examined the wreckage carefully, including the crew module attach points to the fuselage, the crew seats, the pressure shell, the flight deck and middeck floors, and feedthroughs for electrical and plumbing connections. The windows were examined and fragments of glass analyzed chemically and microscopically. Some items of equipment stowed in lockers showed damage that might have occurred due to decompression we experimentally decompressed similar items without conclusive results.
Impact damage to the windows was so extreme that the presence or absence of in-flight breakage could not be determined. The estimated breakup forces would not in themselves have broken the windows. A broken window due to flying debris remains a possibility there was a piece of debris imbedded in the frame between two of the forward windows. We could not positively identify the origin of the debris or establish whether the event occurred in flight or at water impact. The same statement is true of the other crew compartment structure. Impact damage was so severe that no positive evidence for or against in-flight pressure loss could be found.
Finally, the skilled and dedicated efforts of the team from the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology, and their expert
consultants, could not determine whether in-flight lack of oxygen occurred, nor could they determine the cause of death.
Cabins, Campgrounds and Primitive Camping at Lake Lousia
Lake Louisa State Park's 20 cabins overlook beautiful Dixie Lake. The cabins accommodate up to six people and have two bedrooms, two baths, full kitchen (with appliances) and dining/living room.
Each cabin comes equipped with central heat/air conditioning, gas fireplace, dishes, pots and pans, silverware, linens, towels and picnic tables plus rockers on the porch. All you need to bring is your food and personal items.
To conserve energy, the fireplaces are out of service from March 1 to October 31 (or as seasonal weather permits).
Televisions and phones are not provided. Cabins 16 and 17 are fully accessible and provide access to all major appliances, countertops, bathroom/shower and fire ring.
- Reservations may be made up to 11 months in advance. Book online or call 800-326-3521 (8 a.m. to 8 p.m.) or TDD 888-433-0287.
- Pets are not permitted in cabins or cabin area. Service animals are welcome please let us know that you have a service animal at the time of arrival.
- There is a minimum two-night stay in cabins on weekends and holidays, either Friday and Saturday nights, or Saturday and Sunday nights. A single Friday or Saturday night may be reserved only if the following Saturday or Sunday night is already reserved.
Lake Louisa has 60 full-facility campsites nestled between Dixie and Hammond lakes. Each site has 30- and 50-amp hookups. Some sites can accommodate rigs up to 50 feet.
A dump station is located between Dixie Loop and Sandhill Loop. Campground amenities include two accessible bathhouses, two accessible fishing piers, and a small accessible pavilion.
- Reservations may be made up to 11 months in advance. Book online or call 800-326-3521 (8 a.m. to 8 p.m.) or TDD 888-433-0287.
- Campsites 1, 34 and 36 are fully accessible, including a level concrete pad, and are connected to the bathhouse by a sidewalk and or paved surface.
- Pets are welcome please adhere to all rules regarding pets in the campground in accordance with our Pet Policy.
The equestrian primitive camp includes five horse paddocks, fire rings, non-potable water supply, picnic tables, one pavilion, grills and a self-composting toilet.
All five paddocks are available by reservation only. This is a beautiful area for camping, with sites located under the shade of a longleaf pine canopy. There is plenty of lush pasture at the sites for horse grazing. It is recommended that you bring other means of portable fencing or tie-downs in case the paddocks have all been reserved. Four large posts with eye-bolts for tie-downs are provided in a couple of locations.
- Campers arriving after the park closes must call the park by 5 p.m. the day of arrival to make arrangements to access the park after-hours. Pets are allowed at the equestrian campsites in accordance with our Pet Policy.
- Reservations can be made by calling the ranger station at 352-394-3969 up to 11 months in advance. Payment is due at the time of arrival.
There are two available sites for adventurous campers to pack in and pack out of . the Real Florida. Pine Point is in a shady stand of slash pines on the banks of Big Creek, while Wilderness Point is sheltered by oaks and palmetto bushes among some of the best trails in the park.
The sites do not have any water or electricity, so please bring plenty of drinking water with you. Each site is equipped with a fire ring and picnic table.
The sites accommodate up to four people at Wilderness Point and up to six people at Pine Point. They are not accessible by vehicle due to the remoteness and difficult terrain.
The sites are pack in and pack out, including any trash that is generated. Pets are allowed at the campsites in accordance with our Pet Policy.
Payment is collected at the time of arrival. Campers must arrive at the park one hour before sunset to allow enough time to register and safely get to the site before dark.
Cabin space on the Nadezhda - History
Seeming never to have ceased from the early 1850s to now, African American responses to Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin have included deliberate engagement with and spirited rejections of the text, as well as deliberate and nuanced efforts to yoke and unyoke the text from racial matters. African American responses to the work have placed it at the foreground of contemplations of the history of enslavement and the elusive nature of American freedom, located it in meditations on the legacy of racial oppression, and linked it to laments and protests of racial, cultural, and religious stereotypes. Responses to the novel also have emerged in the wake of stinging retorts and murmured utterances about "Uncle Tom's," figures of various stature who occupy inevitably complicated public roles and stand to wield potentially threatening powers in the public sphere.
Responses to this novel often have been prompted by close readings of the primary text in question, but also have been offered without any readerly experience at all. They also have been generated within tightly demarcated intraracial spheres and in more fluid and unpredictable interracial spaces that have and still are public and private, academic and professional, cultural, social, and political. One of the enduring legacies of the novel seems to be the way in which it facilitates cross-racial reflections, interpretations, analyses, and critiques. Stowe herself modeled this kind of connection&mdashevidenced in a number of ways that include her determined efforts to seek out African American primary texts and sources that would strengthen the novel and prove its authenticity, as well as in more directed efforts such as her editorial support for Josiah Henson and generous preface to the 1858 edition of his autobiography that he offered "for the purpose of redeeming from slavery a beloved brother, who has groaned for many years under the yoke of a hard master."*
Langston Hughes, the acclaimed and prolific Harlem Renaissance-era poet who edited a 1952 illustrated edition of Uncle Tom's Cabin, regarded it as "a good story, exciting in incident, sharp in characterization, and threaded with humor." Indeed, a discussion of African American responses to the novel invites, if not requires that a set of reconstructions be staged. It is instructive to revisit, however briefly, the worlds into which that book appeared. It is also is beneficial to review the literary landscape that shaped the African American readers and writers who contributed to the still-legendary sales in 1852 of 5,000 copies in two days or the equivalent of one book per minute for forty-eight hours. This essay focuses on some aspects of that nineteenth-century milieu, as well as key race concerns and literary traditions that both shaped and were shaped by Uncle Tom's Cabin.
The serialized Uncle Tom's Cabin appeared as the nation of Liberia took shape and the book version of 1852 appeared just six years after the end of Mexican War, a conflict that many African Americans and abolitionists opposed and regarded as a pretext for the expansion of slavery. The work's publication coincided with heated debates about colonization and emigration and as anti- and pro slavery camps continued to argue about slavery, abolition, and the politics of gradual and immediate emancipation. The scenes in which Stowe dispatches a tamed and claimed Topsy to Liberia and provides rhetorical space for George Harris to think aloud about the need for his race to have "a tangible, separate existence of its own" on "the shores of Africa" where he envisions "a republic, &mdash a republic formed of picked men, who, by energy and self-educating force, have, in many cases, individually, raised themselves above a condition of slavery," directly impacted the nature, intensity, and spirit of debates between eloquent political activists and leaders such as Martin Delany, James Monroe Whitfield, and Frederick Douglass about African American futures within and beyond American borders.*
Images of African American domestic practices&mdashimplemented in the shadow of and within the Southern plantation great house, were inextricably linked to cultural myths and stereotypes about African American women and families, and the plethora of images of Uncle Tom competed against the performed blackness that was part of minstrel shows in which white men donned blackface for audiences who imagined that this was authentic racial performance. The novel also contributed to ongoing discussions of true womanhood, true black womanhood, and the politics of childrearing and education. The novel was memorable for so many because of its powerful accounts of distraught mothers and vulnerable children: Eliza who tripped a desperate light fantastic on ice floes across the Ohio River to safety, Prue, the tormented woman driven to drink in the years following her essential imprisonment by a man who "kept [her] to breed chil'en for market, and sold 'em as fast as they got big enough,"* and Topsy the unclaimed wild child whose appetites signal deep psychic needs that no purloined ribbons ever will satisfy.
African American responses to the work were informed by the substantial body of testimonial literature&mdashmemoirs of bondage, self-emancipation, recapture, and freedom&mdashthat included the elegant but terse 1774 poetical musings by Phillis Wheatley, the 1789 Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, the eloquent pathos-filled verses of George Moses Horton, the gripping 1831 memoirs of the resilient and tested West Indian Mary Prince and the ambitious spirit-filled Nat Turner, architect of the revolt in Southampton, Virginia that rocked the South and the North, as well as the celebrated 1840s-era narratives by William Wells Brown, Henry Bibb, Henry Box Brown, as well as Frederick Douglass whose first memoir sold 5,000 copies in four months and was more widely read than Henry David Thoreau's Walden, and Josiah Henson's 1849 life story that went into at least three editions and sold some 100,000 copies during his lifetime. The literary dimensions of freedom, enslavement, survival, and testimonies about those who managed to create sanctified lives in unholy times were enriched by narrative such as Bostonian Susan Paul's 1835 Memoir of James Jackson, The Attentive and Obedient Scholar, the 1835 fiery essay collection entitled The Productions of Mrs. Maria W. Stewart, the 1850 narrative by Sojourner Truth that chronicled her loss of home and family and acquisition of faith, and legendary speeches such as the one that she delivered in 1851 at the Akron, Ohio Women's Rights convention that confirmed her role as a formidable and insightful political voice of the age. Nineteenth-century readers of Stowe read that book through the lens of their own experiences of freedom and of bondage, as dedicated and enterprising abolitionists, as laborers and professionals, as survivors of marriages and families forever undone by slavery, as subscribers to and supporters of African American and abolitionist newspapers such as the Rochester, New York-based North Star and the legendary Boston Liberator. The range of responses confirms that discussions, impressions of, and debates about the issues, portraits, and histories depicted in Uncle Tom's Cabin contributed to and benefited from what scholar Benedict Anderson has described as an "imagined community," one created in large part by shared experiences that transcend place and depend on media that disseminate information and enable shared experiences of and collective reactions to events and issues.
The first African American communities to contend with Uncle Tom's Cabin did so in the context of abolition, controversial expansion of slavery into the territories, the systematic invalidation of any notion that there was a "free north," and strengthened pro-slavery legislation like the 1850 Fugitive Slave Act. Stowe's novel emerged at a time when the evils of the "peculiar institution" were increasingly visible and by 1851, when the novel first began to be serialized in the abolitionist newspaper The National Era, the nation in which free-born, self-emancipated, and enslaved people of color were living was well on its way to claiming the 4 million souls who would be counted in the 1860 federal census. It is illuminating and thoroughly informative to consider the emergence and accumulated cultural, social, and political power of Uncle Tom's Cabin in the context of abolition. The movement to end slavery and inaugurate equal rights for all people had such a rich and pioneering history in Stowe's New England where African Americans like those of color in Boston who founded the Massachusetts General Colored Association, the nation's first antislavery society, and the enterprising ladies of African descent in Salem whose Salem Female Antislavery Society was the first women's antislavery society in America.
As early as April 1852, and even before the book was in the hands of the reviewer, the Frederick Douglass Paper assured its readers that the book was "a thrilling Story, from the accomplished pen of Mrs. Stowe" and that "[t]he friends of freedom owe the Authoress a large debt of gratitude for this essential service rendered by her to the cause they love."* The review, which may have been penned by Douglass but also by his colleague Julia Griffiths, proposed that "the touching portraiture [Stowe] has given of 'poor Uncle Tom,' will, of itself, enlist the kindly sympathies, of numbers, in behalf of the oppressed African race, and will raise up a host of enemies against the fearful system of slavery."* Frances Harper, one of the most eloquent respondents to Stowe's work, published a four-stanza poetic tribute to the writer in the Frederick Douglass Newspaper in which she thanked her for "thy pleading / For the helpless of our race," "thy pleading / For the fettered and the dumb," and "the kindly words / That gree'd they pen of fire / And thrilled upon the living chords / Of many a heart's deep lyre."* Harper was deeply affected by the novel&mdashas her literary tributes to characters like Eliza and slave mothers powerfully demonstrate.
Stowe's writerly labors prompted many moments of recognition and honor, including ones that testified to the international contexts and locations in which African Americans and people of African descent were aware and appreciative of her work. Writing from London, England in the summer of 1853, William Wells Brown reported to William Lloyd Garrison and the vast network of Liberator readers that "Uncle Tom's Cabin has come down upon the dark abodes of slavery like a morning sunlight, unfolding to view its enormities in a manner which has fastened all eyes upon the "peculiar situation," and awakening sympathy in hearts that never before felt for the slave."* Brown, as well as the escaped fugitives Ellen and William Craft, sat in company with British aristocrats like the Early of Shaftesbury and Her Grace, the Duchess of Sutherland amid the five thousand who assembled there to greet Stowe. According to Brown, when the "greater lady (the author of Uncle Tom) made her appearance," and sat next to the Duchess, "there was a degree of excitement in the room that can better be imagined than described. The waving of hats and handkerchiefs, the clapping of hands, the stamping of feet, and the screaming and fainting of ladies, went on as if it had been in the programme, while the thieves were at work helping themselves out of the abundance of the pockets of those who were most crowded."* A few months later, in late October 1853, the National Era could report that a Dr. McGill "of Maryland of Liberia" presented Stowe with a "a massive ring of African gold, and of African manufacture."*
Communities of color in Canada produced notable responses to Uncle Tom's Cabin. Many of the people of color had ties to enclaves of self-emancipated people and individuals who migrated north to elude the ever-encroaching reach of pro-slavery legislation and its emboldened proponents. Other people of color came to the novel through their knowledge of the ambitious antebellum colonization initiatives that culminated in settlements at Wilberforce that involved individuals such as the free-born New England Baptist minister brothers Nathaniel and Benjamin Paul, and the Dawn settlement in Southern Ontario that the legendary Josiah Henson established. People of African descent and African American migrants facilitated critiques of the novel, even as they also fueled ongoing debates about the breadth of pro-slavery sentiment in America. Henry Bibb, editor of Canada's first African-American newspaper, the Windsor, Ontario-based Voice of the Fugitive, was a leading voice in this regard. A mixed race child born of a white Kentucky state senator and an enslaved woman named Mildred Jackson, Bibb's repeated efforts to escape slavery were shaped in part by his outrage and helplessness in the face of his enslaved wife's forced sexual cooptation. He eventually became a powerful antislavery lecturer, was colleagues with Douglass and William Wells Brown, and collaborated with Josiah Henson to found the Refugees Home Colony in Canada. Bibb made a point of reprinting in his pioneering newspaper notable commentaries on the novel, as well as wrenching accounts of captures and confrontations that both underscored the timeliness and rightness of Uncle Tom's Cabin as well as the absolutely unwriteable horrors of slavery. In May 1852, he reprinted "unique remarks" from the Boston Christian Observer that characterized Uncle Tom's Cabin as a work that would benefit considerably from the "fame of the author, and her lively manner of treating the subject of slavery," both of which elements would "cause the work to have a great run, &mdash which is, after all, the great desideratum of a true Yankee, &mdash and thousands and thousands of dollars will be the reward of both author and publishers." The review, which Bibb systematically critiqued, also insisted that the novel "partakes somewhat of caricature of Southern habits and Southern Christians" and that reflected an unflattering "habit of some people at the North to call into question the sincerity of those professors of religion, who happen to live in a slave-holding state." "People who 'live in glass houses ought not to throw stones'," intoned the Christian Observer writer, before pondering aloud whether "it not be well for us to turn our thoughts inward and see how we ourselves stand in the sight of God, before we accuse our Southern neighbors of hypocrisy?"* In an invaluable moment of critique that highlights the intensity and deftness of African American responses to Uncle Tom's Cabin and its critics, Bibb offered a bracketed, but undeniably potent response:
In July 1852, Bibb once again fanned the flames of readerly debate, republishing a thoughtful and unselfconscious set of musings on the novel and the world that produced it. "After reading Uncle Tom's Cabin, we find our sympathies fairly roused on the subject of slavery. 'What can I do?' is the question which comes home to every heart," declared the writer identified only by the initials S. J. "We cannot go and unloose their bonds we cannot change the cruel laws which keep them in slavery, nor the still more cruel one which returns them to it. The heart sickens at the thought that there are multitudes in our free country, suffering in the same way that 'Uncle Tom' did, and multitudes more enduring all 'Cassy's' wrongs and wretchedness."* The author of this piece then described the "simple and feasible plan [that] must have come from Heaven"&mdashthe establishment of "permanent homes" for the "exiles" from slavery. In this moment, Bibb, through his editorial decision to reprint the lengthy article about the plight of enslaved people in America and the viable Canadian alternatives to the pernicious system, not only underscored the relevant and trustworthy realism embedded in Stowe's novel but advanced a bold Afrocentric plan that endeavored to respond to the thousands "driven from the free States, through the panic occasioned by the Fugitive Slave Law," and the estimated thirty-thousand people of African descent living in Canada and regarded by writers of articles such as these as "refugees."* This scenario echoes the question that Martin Delany, an unselfconscious critic of Stowe, the novel, and the race politics in which it was bundled up, asked in the Condition, Elevation, Emigration, and Destiny of the Colored People of the United States and Official Report of the Niger Valley Exploring Party (1852) : "What can we do? What shall we do? . . . Shall we fly, or shall we resist?"*
Four months later, Bibb borrowed from the Sandusky Paper an article titled "An Incident for Another Uncle Tom's Cabin" that buttressed the claims of inhumanity that were at the heart of abolition work. The account of what happened when "a young woman with an infant child, eight or nine months old" was captured justified and complicated the narratives of family distress and antebellum acts of rendition in Stowe's novel. This nameless woman, "supposing herself doomed again to slavery," chose to disown her child&mdashand "jerked loose from [the slave-catcher], ran some steps, threw the child upon the ground and returned towards the slave catcher." The editorial comment here, brief in the face of such exquisitely painful composure and sacrifice, could conclude only that the woman "disowned" her child and "denied in the most positive terms that it was her child," because "to disown and desert it, she hoped, was to allow the dearest treasure of her heart to grow up, breathing the air of freedom," and it was "[f]or this she stood nobly ready to dismember the ties of such affection as a mother only knows and leaves to chance, or other hands, the rearing of the infant, dearer than life itself."*
Such emphatic and textually complementary narratives as these that Henry Bibb disseminated in Canada abound in the nineteenth-century press. Like these Voice of the Fugitive articles, the complementary historical often are offered up as authenticating devices and meta-narratives for the book that aspired to shed light on "Life among the Lowly" in antebellum America. In this act of testimony, African American respondents to Uncle Tom's Cabin thus developed roles for themselves as de facto public race historians they seized opportunities to redeploy Uncle Tom's Cabin into the anti- and pro-slavery fray where, many of them like Frederick Douglass hoped, it would fulfill itself "as a godsend destined to mobilize white sentiment against slavery just when resistance to the southern forces was urgently needed."* In other instances, already politically astute respondents became impassioned documentary journalists and advocates who insisted that the novel was an unreliable social and political document, a pale account&mdashall puns intended&mdashof the true horrors, depth of heroism, and range of intraracial alliances that enabled survival, resistance, and moments of triumph.
In 1853, on the heels of the publication of Uncle Tom's Cabin, the New Hampshire-born poet and Masonic leader James Monroe Whitfield resurrected the awful bloodied land in which Stowe's tragic hero died.* Whitfield's poem, titled simply "America," featured an impassioned narrative who declared, "America, it is to thee / Thou boasted land of liberty, &mdash / It is to thee I raise my song, / Thou land of blood, and crime, and wrong. / It is to thee, my native land, /From whence has issued many a band / To tear the black man from his soil, / And force him here to delve and toil / Chained on your blood-bemoistened sod, / Cringing beneath a tyrant's rod, / Stripped of those rights which Nature's God / Bequeathed to all the human race."* Whitfield's epic poem featured images of unleashed heavenly might and humble prayers of humanity ended on a note that recalled the sobering power in the final moments of Tom's life. Whitfield&mdasha dedicated emigrationist with maternal family ties to the Freewill Baptist tradition that regarded antislavery work as a mandate of one's faith&mdashadmitted earnestly, "The battle is not to the strong But in the sacred name of peace, / Of justice, virtue, love and truth, / We pray, and never mean to cease, / Till weak old age and fiery youth / In freedom's cause their voices raise, / And burst the bonds of every slave / Till, north and south, and east and west, / The wrongs we bear shall be redressed."* Although Whitfield never mentioned Uncle Tom's Cabin directly in this or any other of his published poems and letters, his poem offers one of the most compelling examples of African American accommodation of Uncle Tom's Cabin and the life of its eponymous tragic hero. Whitfield's image of "weak old age and fiery youth" blends two often incompatible forces&mdashones that explain many of the protesting African American responses to Stowe's work.
The America that Whitfield imagines is one undone by collective work to "burst the bonds of every slave" and such projects prompted many then and now to consider if that work was the rightful and sole duty of those within the race. The free-born future black nationalist explorer, physician, writer, and highest ranking African American Civil War soldier Martin Delany chided Frederick Douglass when the acclaimed orator and editor consulted Stowe on "some method which should contribute successfully and permanently, in the improvement and elevation of the free people of color in the United States." Unable to contain his frustration, Delany exclaimed in his pointed letter to Douglass, "Why in God's name," he exclaimed, "don't the leaders among our people make suggestions, and consult the most competent among their own brethren concerning our elevation. . . We shall never effect anything until this is done." Delany also offered what Douglass promptly characterized as a "jarring note," and insisted that he "I would not give the counsel of one dozen intelligent colored freeman of the right stamp, for that of all the white and unsuitable colored persons in the land."*
Embedded in Delany's complaint is anxiety about African American agency in an age when legislation like the Fugitive Slave Act not only further justified continued disenfranchisement and subjugation of all people of color, but also encouraged Northern complicity in such matters. Delany, we should recall, was a gifted but thwarted polymath, an inventor denied a patent for a mechanical device that would enable trains to move freight up and across mountainous terrain, and whose promising medical studies at Harvard were cut short when white students protested his presence and that of two other upstanding Bostonians of note solely on the basis of their race. Delany endured the kind of threats to self that James C. Pennington located squarely in slavery. Writing to Stowe in November 1852, Pennington, a man who regarded himself "held" in slavery and who eventually settled in Hartford as a minister and educator, assured the novelist that slavery was "an awful system," one that "takes man as God made him . . . demolishes him and then mis-creates him, or, perhaps should I say, mal-creates him."*
African American responses to Stowe&mdashand Stowe's responses to African Americans as illustrated in and beyond Uncle Tom's Cabin&mdashdemonstrate the high critical concern on both sides of the color line about self-assertion, self-determination, self-realization, and self-sacrifice as portrayed in the novel and disseminated in an antebellum age when the very humanity and self-hood of people of color was perpetually questioned, undermined, and constrained. Yet, it is the tension emerging from the regard for Uncle Tom's Cabin as a book that defined black experience and identity that produces and continues to create readerly caution, cultural suspicion, and scholarly correction. White immigrants gained access to Uncle Tom's Cabin through the host of non-English language editions and they consumed the work with great relish. While some may have read the novel in order to gain insights into African American identity or about American culture, history, and race relations, Uncle Tom's Cabin may have functioned more deliberately as a handbook on how to be white in America. Clearly, though, the racial postures at issue here are inextricably intertwined.
It was issues of American identity politics, privileges acquired and denied, and rights imagined and conferred, that prompted nineteenth-century African Americans to document the full, all-too-often overlooked and underestimated agendas, accomplishments, and experiences of free communities of color. One individual who contributed significantly to this literary and political record was Susan Paul&mdashan exemplary Bostonian, abolitionist, teacher, and temperance worker whom Stowe may well have learned about during her time in that city and in company with Paul's close-knit Beacon Hill community. Paul crafted a compelling documentary narrative about a young freeborn child of color for whom slavery represented the greatest threat to his faith, potential, and selfhood. Her ground breaking biography and account of life in antebellum America was published in 1835, some fifteen years before the first installations of the serialized Uncle Tom's Cabin appeared.
The American Sunday School Union, the organization that Paul first sought out as a potential publisher, had adopted a "don't ask, don't tell" policy on slavery in order to preserve its significant Southern networks and religious markets. Agents for the organization swiftly rejected Paul's manuscript because she mentioned the "peculiar institution" briefly, albeit bloodlessly. Paul successfully sought out an abolitionist publisher in Boston and saw her work published. The memoir chronicled the life of James Jackson, a gifted child of color who came to know slavery as an insidious and rapacious force that threatened his intellectual, spiritual, and emotional freedoms. Paul's narrative anticipates some vital issues and scenes portrayed in Uncle Tom's Cabin, most significantly in the chapters relating to discussions of slavery and the death of James, the young protagonist. In a gripping scene that evokes the New Testament account of Jesus's resurrection three days after the crucifixion, Paul preserved for us one of the most compelling deathbed scenes to feature a child of color and one that serves as a telling lens through which to reconsider the highly choreographed passing of Little Eva and the carefully articulated spiritual evolution of Tom. Six-year-old James, like the fictionalized Eva, is fully aware of the implications of death. In Boston, this child who cherishes his schooling, Bible, and family learns that slavery can invalidate the intellectual, spiritual, and emotional trinity that he holds dear. Over the course of three days, James succumbs to death, a state that he seems to deliberately seek out as a reliable palliative for the godless world that would sanction kidnappings and bondage. The power of the memoir lies in its humble yet piercing accounts of domesticity, schooling, and African American agency in the age of slavery and qualified freedom&mdashand the primacy of faith that enables a boy as young as six years and eleven months to declare his desire to "go away and be with" his Saviour: "O I want to go away from this wicked world, and live always with the blessed Saviour in heaven. There is nothing wicked there," he testifies on his deathbed with eyes "apparently fixed on something above him" and hand "raised . . . toward heaven."* Paul's portrait of an innocent's response to slavery anticipates the scrutiny of the "peculiar institution" and the empowering spiritual dialogues between Tom and Eva, interactions staged in a lush Southern paradise that barely masks the hell of slavery.
Paul's Memoir highlights the story that remained untold in Stowe's narrative&mdashthe one of an early and will-full response to slavery that was rooted in free will and a free community of color. African American responses to the novel, then, also were prompted by what Richard Yarborough has described as Stowe's inadvertent political inconstancy. "Although Stowe unquestionably sympathized with the slaves," asserts Yarborough, "her commitment to challenging the claim of black inferiority was frequently undermined by her own endorsement of racial stereotypes."* The stereotype&mdashas advanced by Uncle Tom's Cabin&mdashwas repeatedly bound up itself in images of enslaved peoples of African descent. Free communities of color&mdashones that spawned abolitionist protest, built schools, had been petitioning for freedom, equal rights, and against taxation without representation since the late 1700s&mdashdo not hold sway in this novel. So, even as the book's greatest power lies in its ability to raise public awareness about slavery and fuel antislavery sentiment, it is a book that cannot easily accommodate the full and real history of African American experiences. German readers may have lauded Uncle Tom's Cabin as "a book that has effected us so deeply, [and] so continuously enchained our interest" despite its "bad Yankee-English, and . . . many inequalities of the style" and suggested as they did in 1852 to that the "Abolitionist party in the United States should vote the author a civic crown for a more powerful ally than Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe and her romance they could not have." But there were substantial factions and divergent opinions and interests in that "Abolitionist party," as it were. Indeed, Stowe may, as one admirer described her, have "walked with lighted candle, through the darkest and most obscure corners of the slave's soul, and . . . unfolded the secrets of the slave's lacerated heart," but she had barely discerned the existence of a counter narrative of intraracial redemption. The black heart that so often is at issue in this novel and in the critical debates about it was throbbing loud but apparently not clearly enough in 1850s America.
In the postbellum age and the twentieth and twenty first centuries, African American responses to Uncle Tom's Cabin grow out of domestic and international efforts to assert and reclaim the humanity of people of African descent. They also are linked inextricably to the complex effort to articulate and implement justifiable responses to oppression. Perhaps, Frederick Douglass started it&mdashin a move that one could hardly miss when he generated his only work of fiction. "The Heroic Slave," published in 1853, may be the countertext to Uncle Tom's Cabin. Douglass's work, which appeared in the anti-slavery collection, Autographs for Freedom, and in Frederick Douglass's Paper, featured reverse and deliberate migrations into slavery rather than out of it, a passionate African American romance heroically defended, and considerations of authentic African American masculinity and heroism. Douglass's heroic figure, named Madison Washington, "was just the man you would choose when hardships were to be endured, or danger to be encountered,&mdashintelligent and brave," with "the head to conceive, and the hand to execute."* It is this figure whom the poet Melvin Tolson conjures up in "Dark Symphony," his acclaimed work that won first prize in the American Negro Exposition poetry contest in 1939. The poem's first lines deliver a rousing declaration about empowerment and the anticipatory, rather than derivative, elements of African American history: "Black Crispus Attucks taught / Us how to die / Before white Patrick Henry's bugle breath / Uttered the vertical / Transmitting cry: 'Yea, give me liberty, or give me death." Where might we locate the gracious, self-denying, pious Uncle Tom in this American history, one might ask. Could Stowe's Uncle Tom also inhabit this same volatile realm in which Attucks, a 6 foot two inch runaway or self-emancipated man of African and Nantucket Indian parents, became the first to die in the Boston Massacre and the first casualty in the American Revolution? Tolson's paean to Attucks celebrates "Men black and strong" who have "stood" for "Justice and Democracy." Yet, while one might ask if there is any, however faint connection of racial brotherhood, between this real man and Stowe's imagined one, Tolson hints that there well might be since his heroes are men "Steeled in the faith that Right / Will conquer Wrong / And Time will usher in one brotherhood." Certainly such lines apply to Tom, who despite his final suffering at the hands of Legree draws his last breath as the expression "of a conqueror" comes upon his face.*
Stowe's representation of women's experiences also prompted significant responses by African American writers, notably by Frances Harper who published deeply moving poems about traumatized enslaved mothers and most recently perhaps by Toni Morrison whose Beloved characters Baby Suggs, Sethe, and Beloved, stand in sharp contrast to women like Dinah, Eliza, Prue, Cassy, and Topsy who bear wicked burdens of flawed antebellum domesticity, unchecked white male desire, and an inhumane and dehumanizing marketplace. William Wells Brown's 1853 Clotel explores female subjection and hard-won agency, presidential slave genealogies, and referenced the unspeakable African American messianic fervor that fueled Nat Turner to launch his bloody revolt. Ultimately, in his chronicle of four women and their trials as mothers, daughters, consorts and wives, Brown concludes&mdashlike Martin Delany and Pauline Hopkins, to name a few&mdashthat the pursuit of happiness is neither feasible nor finite in America. Harriet Wilson's 1859 Our Nig, which dwells on New England and white houses where "slavery's shadows fall," extends the proslavery expose of Uncle Tom's Cabin. The book that bears the full title Our Nig or Sketches from the Life of a Free Black, In a Two Story White House, North, Showing that Slavery's Shadows Fall Even There and attributed to an author identified as "Our Nig," begins with five uneasily rendered autobiographical chapters followed by more conventional third person narrations, is a provocative countertext of the Topsy and Ophelia narratives that have led to especially rich discussions of topics such as disciplinary intimacy, white beneficence, and African American salvation with which we continue to grapple today.
Uncle Tom's Cabin does not sidestep completely the realities of sexual tyranny and trauma associated with enslavement and because of this effort on Stowe's part, the novel could resonate even more loudly with a broad African American readership who knew full well the specific and pervasive horror of slavery. Harriet Jacobs's Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, published seven years after Uncle Tom's Cabin, laid bare the evils of sexual predation that Stowe incorporated into the later chapters of her work. Jacobs also used her account of antebellum life to demonstrate the moral ingenuity and fortitude of the young women and families subjected to it. As works of autobiographical fiction, both Our Nig and Incidents, in their genre characteristics alone, offer disturbing insights into the nature of dissociation and the strategies for creating a written record of unwriteable wrongs, of violence that quite literally is aimed to silence a voice if not serve as a brutal wedge that in Harriet Wilson's case held open the mouth and prevented decipherable sounds. Jacobs herself contended with an equally threatening array of silences. Hers included nervous confidences about her sexual past and moments of unqualified distress, produced in one instance when Stowe commandeered Jacobs's story and exposed it to the woman's employers and supporters without Jacobs's permission and in lieu of any support for Jacobs's desire to receive instead from Stowe, counsel on how best to publish and own her life story.
African American literary invocations of Uncle Tom's Cabin persisted as the nineteenth-century ended and the twentieth began. The accomplished Boston journalist and writer Pauline Hopkins was one of those who revisited the novel and reintroduced her contemporaries to Stowe's memorable characters. Hopkins, who was known best for her role as a pioneering editor of the Colored American Magazine, the nations' first African American literary journal, sought to retell and perhaps redress the wrongs done by and to Topsy. In 1916, as she launched her own promising periodical The New Era, Hopkins began an absorbing serialized story about Topsy Templeton, an unrestrained young orphan of color whose days of mad frolicking in New England schoolyards were numbered once she became the object of rehabilitation advanced by two white spinster sisters.
Many who would debate the relevance, problematics, and potential of Stowe's racial visions, though, come to such conversations through the landmark essay "Everybody's Protest Novel" by James Baldwin. Written in 1949, almost one hundred years after the first installments of Stowe's work appeared, the essay still persists today as one of the most eloquent and decisive critiques of Stowe's work and the necessary agendas of conscientious readers and citizens. Baldwin regards Uncle Tom's Cabin as a "very bad novel," one in which "medieval morality" revolves around polarized constructions of "black, white, the devil, [and] the next world,"* and in which sentimentality is not the locus of transformative cultural power but rather "the mark of dishonesty, the inability to feel . . . and the signal of secret and violent inhumanity."* In his consideration of the protest novel tradition, of which Stowe's novel is a central part, Baldwin notes that the "avowed aim of the American protest novel is to bring greater freedom to the oppressed." Yet, this emancipation never can occur for the novels themselves are constrained by their politics that render them, in Baldwin's view, "mirror[s] of our confusion, dishonesty, panic" they are works "trapped and immobilized in the sunlit prison of the American dream."* It is this awful suspension and dastardly liminality that ultimately denies life&mdashand a discernible, usable freedom&mdashto figures like Tom and his literary descendants like Richard Wright's Bigger Thomas and the terrorized young men who haunt the pages of Wright's short story collection Uncle Tom's Children. Baldwin cannot accept the social and racial deaths that seem to be prerequisites for palatable protests. He laments the inevitable and unproductive "web of lust and fury" in which "black and white can only thrust and counter-thrust, long for each other's slow, exquisite death" this awful and perpetually unresolved limbo exists, writes Baldwin, because, as is so pointedly illustrated in Native Son, African American characters "accep[t] a theology that denies him life . . . admit the possibility of being sub-human and fee[l] constrained." The secret for liberation&mdashin antebellum eras of the Middle Passage and slavery and twenty-first century periods in which genocide rears its head, lies in the ability to claim life, not reject it, and, admonished Baldwin, for individuals to accept "the human being" and "the beauty, dread, [and] power" of that being that is "real and which cannot be transcended." The battle is here and in the now.
In her own study of African American memoir and narratives that substantiated the details proffered in Uncle Tom's Cabin, Stowe honored, it would seem, the articulations of selfhood that enabled such narratives to be produced. Yet, as her terse and alarming interactions with women like the formerly enslaved writer and educator Harriet Jacobs indicate, that propensity for thoughtful considerations of African American subjectivity and vulnerability, did not hold sway at all times. That said, as Stowe's eminent and Pulitzer Prize-winning biographer Joan Hedrick notes, it was the "literary success of Uncle Tom's Cabin [that] made Harriet Beecher Stow[e] the single most powerful voice on behalf of the slave."* The figure that looms large in African American responses to Uncle Tom's Cabin is not the authoress Stowe but that of the enslaved. The circumstances and fraught existence of this figure, an individual shackled by chains, circumstance, and history, has everything to do with the intensity of embrace and rejection, sympathy and hostility visited upon the novel. There is no singular monolithic African American response to Uncle Tom's Cabin but there is consensus about the uneasiness of living in a world that relegates individuals to such states. The words of Frances Harper hint at the persistent African American negotiations with this America of qualified liberties and complex works such as Uncle Tom's Cabin. "I ask no monument, proud and high, / To arrest the gaze of the passersby," she wrote, "All that my yearning spirit craves, / Is bury me not in a land of slaves." Then and now, a century and a half beyond Stowe's phenomenal literary success and this nation's agonizing "civil" wars, we too find ourselves called to claim, defend, and know America as the land of the free and a home for all who are brave.
A 16′ x 28′ (448 square feet) log structure with two bedrooms, living room, dining area, kitchen, and 3/4 bath. This unit is heated via an electric wall heater.
A 17′ x 30′ log structure with an 8′ x 16′ deck for a total of 638 square feet. This unit includes two bedrooms, a kitchen, dining area, living room, and 3/4 bath heated by an L.P. fired space heater.
A dogtrot house historically consisted of two log cabins connected by a breezeway or "dogtrot", all under a common roof. Typically, one cabin was used for cooking and dining, while the other was used as a private living space, such as a bedroom. The primary characteristics of a dogtrot house is that it is typically one story (although 1 + 1 ⁄ 2 -story and more-rare two-story examples survive), has at least two rooms averaging between 18 and 20 feet (5.5 and 6.1 m) wide that each flank an open-ended central hall. Additional rooms usually take the form of a semidetached ell or shed flanking the hall, most commonly at the rear. Enclosed shed rooms are also sometimes found at the front, although a shed-roof front porch is the most common form.  
The breezeway through the center of the house is a unique feature, with rooms of the house opening into the breezeway. The breezeway provided a cooler covered area for sitting. The combination of the breezeway and open windows in the rooms of the house created air currents which pulled cooler outside air into the living quarters efficiently in the pre-air conditioning era. 
Secondary characteristics of the dogtrot house includes placement of the chimneys, staircases, and porches. Chimneys were almost always located at each gable end of the house, with each serving one of the two main rooms. If the house was 1½ or the rarer two stories, the necessary staircase was usually at least partially enclosed or boxed in. The stairway was most commonly placed in one or both of the main rooms, although it was sometimes placed in the open hallway. Although some houses had only the open central hall and flanking rooms, most dogtrots had full-width porches to the front and/or rear.
The John Looney House in Ashville, Alabama, is a rare example of a two-story dogtrot house built in the 1820s. 
Another example of a dogtrot house can be viewed at the old Brill ranch (Arizona state historical site), 3 miles south of Wickenburg, Arizona. The original core of the adobe house is still standing and being used as a Visitor Center for a nature preserve. The house was built sometime between the 1850s to 1860s and was later used at The Garden of Allah dude ranch.
The Noel Owen Neal House was built in 1840 near Nashville. Neal, a farmer, died in 1850. His wife Hesky maintained the farm after his death. The house was moved to Washington, Arkansas, and has undergone restoration. 
The Arkansas Post Museum includes the Refeld-Hinman home, a log-cabin dogtrot house built in 1877.  
Around 1820, the Jacob Wolf House in Norfork, was constructed. The two-story dogtrot home of a pioneer leader is the oldest known standing structure in the state. The house was designated as a county seat and courthouse in 1825 by the territorial legislature. 
Around 1855, Colonel Randolph D. Casey built the Casey House, currently the oldest existing house in Mountain Home. The home is currently maintained by the Baxter County Historical and Genealogical Society. 
In 1800, Jacob Eversole, of what is now Perry County, Kentucky, constructed an addition to the one-room cabin he had erected in 1789, creating a two-story dogtrot home. The home is currently owned by Eversole's descendants. 
The town of Dubach in Lincoln Parish, has several surviving dogtrot houses. In 1990, it was recognized as the "Dogtrot Capital of the World" by the state legislature.   The Autrey House Museum, a dogtrot house built in 1849, is located in Dubach the home is believed to be the oldest extant structure in Lincoln Parish.  The estate known as "Ranch Azalee" in south Webster Parish in north Louisiana, once owned by State Senator Harold Montgomery, was originally of dogtrot design, having begun around 1840 as the James Jackson Bryan House. In 1999, Ranch Azalee was added to the National Register of Historic Places. 
At Louisiana State University in Shreveport, the Pioneer Heritage Center  hosts the Thrasher House,  a two-room dogtrot house built in 1850 by Thomas Zilks near Castor, Louisiana. The home was moved to LSUS in 1981.
The Museum of West Louisiana in Leesville includes the Alexander Airhart Home, a dogtrot house. 
The LSU Rural Life Museum in Baton Rouge, includes a restored dogtrot house built by Thomas Neal Sr. from the 1860s to the early 1870s in Rapides Parish. The home was lived in by descendants of Mr. Neal until 1976 the house was moved to the museum in 1979. 
Washington Parish, hosts the Sylvest House. This home, built in 1880 by Nehemiah Sylvest, was originally located in Fisher, Louisiana, but has since been moved to the fairgrounds in Franklinton. 
The O'Pry/Elam dogtrot house near Pleasant Hill, Sabine Parish, is a framed four-room dogtrot featuring an interior chimney. This house is the only remaining structure of the original village of Pleasant Hill and served as a hospital after the Battle of Pleasant Hill. 
In Tunica, the Tunica Museum owns and operates the Tate Log House, a log-cabin dogtrot home built in 1840. This home is the oldest surviving structure in the county. 
North Carolina Edit
The Tarkil Branch Farm's Homestead Museum, a private living-history museum in Duplin, includes a dogtrot house built in the 1830s. 
The Old Choate House Museum in Indianola is a story-and-a-half dogtrot house that once belonged to a past Choctaw Senate president. 
Fanthorp Inn State Historic Site is a historic hotel in Anderson, Texas originally built as a dogtrot style cedar cabin that was enlarged in about 1850 to accommodate its usage as a hotel and store. The Texas Parks and Wildlife Department acquired the 6-acre (2.4 ha) site by purchase in 1977 from a Fanthorp descendant. On July 3, 1845, Kenneth Lewis Anderson, vice-president of the Republic of Texas died from illness at the Inn while en route home from Washington-on-the-Brazos.
The Barrington Living History Museum in Washington-on-the-Brazos, which demonstrates life in mid-19th century Texas, has as its centerpiece the Anson Jones home, a four-room dogtrot cabin built by Dr. Anson Jones, the last president of the Republic of Texas. This home was moved to the site in 1936. 
The Log Cabin Village, a living history village owned and operated by the city of Fort Worth, includes the restored Parker Cabin, which was built by a relative of Cynthia Ann Parker in 1848. 
The Dallas Heritage Village, in Dallas hosts a dogtrot house built in the winter of 1845-1846 near what is now the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport. This dogtrot was originally a log cabin, but was later covered in clapboard. 
The Sterne-Hoya House was built in Nacogdoches, in 1830 by Texas Revolution leader Adolphus Sterne as a dogtrot, although the open breezeway was later enclosed. 
On site at the East Texas Arboretum sits the Wofford House, built in 1850 by B.W.J. Wofford. The now restored home was moved to the arboretum in 2001 from Henderson County. 
The Sam Houston Memorial Museum in Huntsville, has two dogtrot cabins.   The Woodland House, the most important structure at the museum, was constructed in 1847 by Sam Houston when he was serving as one of Texas's first United States Senators.  and has siding over log construction. The Bear Bend Cabin, a four-room, story-and-a-half log cabin, was built by Sam Houston as a hunting lodge in the 1850s. 
The Gaines-Oliphint house, located in Hemphill, is a story-and-a-half dogtrot built by James Gaines, one of the earliest Anglo settlers to Texas. The home was built some time between 1818 and 1849 and is currently owned by a chapter of the Daughters of the Republic of Texas. 
Product Development Timeline
Boss Cabins launches offering a 6-man 12 ft unit called Comfort Space.
Boss Cabins becomes the first welfare unit manufacturer to obtain full Vehicle Certification Agency (VCA) approval for both pin and eye and ball-coupled trailers.
The 16ft Big Space unit was launched and quickly acclaimed for its superior design and ease of use.
Boss Cabins is the first to introduce high-security skylights into welfare units as standard.
Boss Cabins launches the first dual use canteen/office space (called the Big Space), meaning the best of both worlds for site managers and site workers alike with clear dedicated areas for paperwork and computers, minimising the inherent risks of a shared space.
In a move to save energy and cut costs, we launch the first affordable entry-level eco-electrical system Eco+ which is part-generator, part-battery powered and which quickly became the best-selling electrical specification.
Boss Cabins’ Annual Safety Inspection is introduced, the first manufacturer to offer this vital service. In the absence of any official MOT requirement for welfare cabins, we believe this is essential for customer and public safety.
Boss Cabins brings to market a 7-man 12ft cabin, an industry first, built in response to a need for a safer environment with more dedicated built-in storage to avoid trip hazards.
Redbox Power gives us exclusive use of their generators in our range of cabins.
Our 12 and 16ft Tool Space units are launched and very well received, the first on the market to boast reinforced floors and loading ramps so small plant items can be stored securely as well as tools.
Our 24ft unit is introduced, the first of this size on the market. Developed in response to the increasing transport costs associated with statics, with the aim of bridging the gap between mobiles and statics.
We introduce a 100% stainless steel option for our customers resulting in a 25 year anti-corrosion guarantee. We are still the only manufacturer who offers this.
Thanks to RedBox Power’s new design Infinity generator, our welfare units can now operate for 2000 hours between generator services.
Our Office Space concept is introduced, the only mobile office on the market that lowers to the ground to provide a stable, secure and cost-effective temporary workspace.
Boss Cabins introduces Boss Shadow, an in-built telemetry system which allows cabins to be tracked at all times and all movements/potential thefts to be alerted to the owner/hirer. Also remotely tracks fuel levels, detects faults and can remotely shut down the generator preventing unauthorised use.
After identifying a potential towing safety risk across the entire industry, Boss Cabins immediately brings in as standard our HandBrake Protection Plate system to protect our customers, still fitted to this day. We inform Knott-Avonride, manufacturer of the tow-hitch assembly, of the potential dangers of their product but our claims are initially rejected. We also warn all other manufacturers and the marketplace as a whole in an attempt to protect cabin users and the general public.
After a 9 month protracted battle with the tow-hitch manufacturer and after being subjected to fierce criticism from other cabin manufacturers which damages us commercially, we are proved right. The tow-hitch manufacturer has to change its product and pays compensation for the engineering work and testing that Boss Cabins has conducted.
In response to the over-saturation of the market by standard 12ft units, Boss Cabins develops the first 9-man 14ft cabin, which is swiftly embraced by the expanding welfare hire industry.
Boss launches the ground-breaking patented Eco Ultimate electrical system with Intelligent Load Management bringing a whole new level of energy efficiency, functionality and low running costs to the market.
18ft range of mobile cabins launched, the largest single axle welfare cabin on the market.
After dominating the mobile market, Boss Cabins enters the static market, using our experience and skills to launch what we believe to be the best static range available – 25, 28 and 32ft units.
Boss Cabins launches an unprecedented and unequalled 5-year Guarantee on all Red Box Infinity generators when supplied in conjunction with the Eco Ultimate electrical system.
RedBox Power’s Infinity generator is granted a patent, meaning Boss Cabins is the only manufacturer to be able to offer such long generator service intervals, eight times longer than the industry standard.
Boss Cabins’ Gold Standard Electrics is introduced to ensure all electrical installations fully comply with and even exceed current legislation.
Boss Cabins develops and starts production of the Toilet Space, a new range of solar-assisted mobile toilet cubicles with unique patent-pending water-saving and waste-management technology.
Jan. 27, 1967: 3 Astronauts Die in Launchpad Fire
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1967: Gus Grissom, Ed White and Roger Chaffee are killed on the launch pad when a flash fire engulfs their command module during testing for the first Apollo-Saturn mission. They are the first U.S. astronauts to die in a spacecraft.
The command module, built by North American Aviation, was the prototype for those that would eventually accompany the lunar landers to the moon. Designated CM-012 by NASA, the module was a lot larger than those flown during the Mercury and Gemini programs, and was the first designed for the Saturn 1B booster.
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NASA: 50 Years of Towering AchievementEven before tragedy struck, the command module was criticized for a number of potentially hazardous design flaws, including the use of a more combustible, 100 percent oxygen atmosphere in the cockpit, an escape hatch that opened inward instead of outward, faulty wiring and plumbing, and the presence of flammable material.
Regarding the cabin atmosphere and hatch configuration, it was a case of NASA overruling the recommendations of the North American designers. North American proposed using a 60-40 oxygen-nitrogen mixture. But because of fears over decompression sickness, and because pure oxygen had been used successfully in earlier space programs, NASA insisted on it being used again.
NASA also dinged the suggestion that the hatch open outward and carry explosive bolts in case of an emergency, mainly because a hatch failure in the Mercury program's Liberty Bell 7 capsule had nearly killed Gus Grissom in 1961.
So CM-012 was completed as ordered and delivered to Cape Canaveral.
The three astronauts knew they were looking at a potential death trap. Not long before he died, Grissom plucked a lemon from a tree at his house and told his wife, "I'm going to hang it on that spacecraft."
The test on Jan. 27 was a "plugs-out" launch simulation designed to see if the Apollo spacecraft could operate on internal power only. It was considered a non-hazardous test.
Several problems delayed the beginning of the test until evening.
Once the test was underway, Grissom, Ed White and Roger Chaffee were strapped into their seats when a voltage fluctuation occurred. Grissom was heard shouting "Fire!" and White followed immediately with "We've got a fire in the cockpit."
It was all over within 30 seconds, perhaps the longest half-minute in NASA's history. Pandemonium broke out as the capsule filled with flames and toxic smoke, and Chaffee could be heard yelling, "Let's get out! We've got a bad fire! We're burning up!"
Screaming was heard before the communications cut out. The command module ruptured. The three astronauts lost consciousness and died of smoke inhalation within 15 to 30 seconds after their suits failed, the official report estimated.
Rescuers were prevented by the flames, and by toxic fumes — their gas masks were faulty — from opening the hatch for a full five minutes, and in any case the idea of rescue was futile.
The bodies had severe third-degree burns, and the flames were so intense that the space suits of Grissom and White were fused together. After six hours of investigation, it took 90 minutes to remove the charred bodies from the melted spacesuits and nylon material from the module interior.
Investigators determined that the cabin pressure at the time of the fire would have prevented the hatch from being opened, even if White, the astronaut charged with operating the hatch in an emergency, had been able to reach it. Although the exact cause of the fire has never been determined, a review board concluded that the combustible material inside the module almost certainly contributed to its severity.
As a result of the tragedy, the Apollo command module underwent a thorough redesign.
Grissom and Chaffee are buried at Arlington National Cemetery. White is buried at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point.
Photo: Virgil I. "Gus" Grissom, Edward H. White II and Roger B. Chaffee/NASA
5 Things You May Not Know About the Challenger Shuttle Disaster
1. The Challenger didn’t actually explode.
The space shuttle was engulfed in a cloud of fire just 73 seconds after liftoff, at an altitude of some 46,000 feet (14,000 meters). It looked like an explosion, the media called it an explosion and even NASA officials mistakenly described it that way initially. But later investigation showed that in fact, there was no detonation or explosion in the way we commonly understand the concept. A seal in the shuttle’s right solid-fuel rocket booster designed to prevent leaks from the fuel tank during liftoff weakened in the frigid temperatures and failed, and hot gas began pouring through the leak. The fuel tank itself collapsed and tore apart, and the resulting flood of liquid oxygen and hydrogen created the huge fireball believed by many to be an explosion.
2. The astronauts aboard the shuttle didn’t die instantly.
After the collapse of its fuel tank, the Challenger itself remained momentarily intact, and actually continued moving upwards. Without its fuel tank and boosters beneath it, however, powerful aerodynamic forces soon pulled the orbiter apart. The pieces—including the crew cabin—reached an altitude of some 65,000 feet before falling out of the sky into the Atlantic Ocean below. It’s likely that the Challenger’s crew survived the initial breakup of the shuttle but lost consciousness due to loss of cabin pressure and probably died due to oxygen deficiency pretty quickly. But the cabin hit the water’s surface (at more than 200 mph) a full 2 minutes and 45 seconds after the shuttle broke apart, and it’s unknown whether any of the crew could have regained consciousness in the final few seconds of the fall.
The five astronauts and two payload specialists that made up the STS 51-L crew aboard the space shuttle Challenger in January of 1986. Crew members are (left to right, front row) astronauts Michael J. Smith, Francis R. (Dick) Scobee and Ronald E. McNair and Ellison S. Onizuka, Sharon Christa McAuliffe, Gregory Jarvis and Judith A. Resnik.
3. Relatively few people actually saw the Challenger disaster unfold on live television.
Though popular wisdom about the 30-year-old tragedy holds that millions of people watched the Challenger’s horrific fate unfold live on television—in addition to the hundreds watching on the ground—the fact is that most people watched taped replays of the actual event. All major networks carrying the launch cut away when the shuttle broke apart, and the tragedy occurred at a time (11:39 a.m. Eastern Time on a Tuesday) when most people were in school or at work. CNN broadcast the launch in its entirety, but cable news was a relatively new phenomenon at the time, and even fewer people had satellite dishes. Though the general public may not have been watching live, NASA had arranged a satellite broadcast onto TV sets in many schools because of McAuliffe’s role in the mission, and many of the schoolchildren who watched remember the disaster as a pivotal moment in their childhoods.
4. In the aftermath of the tragedy, some suggested that the White House pushed NASA to launch the shuttle in time for President Ronald Reagan’s State of the Union address, scheduled for later on January 28.
NASA officials apparently felt intense pressure to push the Challenger’s mission forward after repeated delays, partially due to difficulties getting the previous shuttle, Columbia, back on the ground. But the rumors that pressure was exerted from above, specifically from the Reagan White House, in order to connect the shuttle or its astronauts directly in some way with the State of the Union seem to have been politically motivated and not based on any direct evidence.
In the aftermath of the tragedy, Reagan postponed his annual message to the nation (the first, and so far only, time in history a president has done so) and addressed the nation about the Challenger instead. Widely regarded as one of the best speeches of his presidency, the 650-word address ended with a moving quote from the poem “High Flight,” by the American pilot John McGee Jr., who was killed while flying for the Royal Canadian Air Force in World War II.
Of the Challenger astronauts, Reagan said: “We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and ‘slipped the surly bonds of earth’ to ‘touch the face of God.’”
5. More than a decade after the Challenger disaster, two large pieces from the spacecraft washed ashore at a local beach.
Within a day of the shuttle tragedy, salvage operations recovered hundreds of pounds of metal from the Challenger. In March 1986, the remains of the astronauts were found in the debris of the crew cabin. Though all of the important pieces of the shuttle were retrieved by the time NASA closed its Challenger investigation in 1986, most of the spacecraft remained in the Atlantic Ocean. A decade later, memories of the disaster resurfaced when two large pieces of the Challenger washed up in the surf at Cocoa Beach, 20 miles south of the Kennedy Space Center at Cape Canaveral. NASA believed the two barnacle-encrusted fragments, one measuring more than 6 feet wide and 13 feet long, were originally connected, and that they came from the shuttle’s left wing flap. After being verified, the newly found parts were placed in two abandoned missile silos with the other shuttle remains, which number around 5,000 pieces and weigh in at some 250,000 pounds.