Wisconsin Public Telelvision University Place  Pioneers of Ecological Restoration  Franklin E. Court  6/4/13 UP881  cc >> Today we are pleased to introduce and host author and professor emeritus Frank Court's presentation Pioneers of Ecological Restoration as part of the Wisconsin Historical Museum's History Sandwiched In lecture series. The opinions expressed today are those of the presenter and are not necessarily those of the Wisconsin Historical Society nor the museum's employees. Please join me in welcoming Frank to the stage. [APPLAUSE]  >> Thank you, Alex, and thank you, folks, for the welcome. To begin with, I assume you all know where the University of Wisconsin's Arboretum is located, but if not, I have a handy map here. And this is only the northern portion of the Arboretum, by the way. There's a southern portion that's south of the Beltline called the Grady Tract, and the Beltline runs right below this portion. I couldn't get the entire map on the slide, so I sacrificed the Grady Tract. So we're only losing 200 acres. And most of what I'm going to talk about is related to this part of the Arboretum, the northern half. 

You see where it is. The Arboretum covers almost all of the south shore of Lake Wingra. Now, I'm hoping you'll come away from this presentation this afternoon with a better sense of exactly how the Arboretum got started and who was really responsible. There's a lot of misinformation out there about the Arboretum history that I hope to correct with the book and with these presentations that I'm doing. And that's why I'm focusing on the early history because that's where most of the misinformation occurs. If you're interested in the full account of the Arboretum history, let me recommend the book. It covers about, well, over a hundred years of Arboretum history from about 1911 to 2011, and it's detailed and complete. It's definitive right now, and I hope it stays that way, and it's well documented. Even though I wrote it, I do think it's readable. And it's a narrative. 

It traces the history from the roots right up to 2011. Now, for this presentation today, I want to do two things. I want to do two things. First, I want to give you a quick early history of the Arboretum, and then I want to take you on a quick historical tour down the one and only Arboretum road, and I want to focus on some of the historical highlights along the way. The history of the UW Arboretum begins with these two important figures. Increase Lapham, from the 19th century, Wisconsin's first great scientist naturalist, in 1853 in The Forest Trees of Wisconsin, wrote this, "I shall venture to predict that the university or college that shall first surround itself with an arboretum will first secure the patronage and good opinion of the people and will outstrip those institutions that show a lack of taste and refinement by omitting to plant trees." The other historical figure is John Nolan, the early 20th century Boston city planner and landscape architect who also has a major and very important street in Madison named after him. Nolan, in 1911 in Madison, a model city, his monograph, it was a guide to improving the looks of the city. Among other recommendations for the city, Nolan advised that the university, since it was located within the city limits, he advised the university to do this, to acquire a pleasure garden, a botanical garden, a water garden, a 1,000 to 2,000 acre forest preserve, and an arboretum. And Nolan had Harvard's Arnold Arboretum in mind when he was writing that monograph. He was a Harvard graduate and thought very, very, very highly of the Arnold Arboretum, which was established way back in 1872 by Olmsted. 

Now, after Nolan in 1911, we fast forward into the 1920s when these two men appeared, one of whom was inspired, actually, by his visit to the Arnold Arboretum in 1925 when he was also appointed to the University Board of Regents, and he is the undisputed founder of the Arboretum. He is our own, Madison's own Michael Balthasar Olbrich. Without Olbrich, there never would have been an arboretum. Now, Olbrich, along with Paul Stark, Stark Realty was called Madison Realty at the time, between 1922 and 1928, they acquired six parcels of land, 245 acres on the western and southwestern shore of Lake Wingra, that they deeded to the Madison Parks Foundation, which both of them had really established in 1922. They deeded the land to the Madison Parks Foundation because it would be easier to follow up by deeded it to the Board of Regents and to the university. By 1928, things were looking very good. The university, the Board of Regents looked like they were really interested. Olbrich was there promoting the cause, and both Olbrich and Paul Stark wanted this land to go for an arboretum. But that was 1928, right?  Here's the early map of the 245 acres, by the way. You can see where it is. 

This is, most of it is up there in the, I've got to use this thing, up there in the Monroe Street corridor we call it. The biggest parcel was the Nelson farmland, parcel G down here. The Visitor's Center is approximately somewhere in this area right now. That's the Arboretum entrance. That's the Seminole Highway entrance on the west end. So these six parcels were labeled F through K. Why they were labeled F through K, I have no idea. But that's how they were labeled. But in 1928, as I said, things were really looking promising for the Arboretum. But 1928 was followed by 1929. 

1929 was not a good year. Right? Not only was it the time of the Great Depression, but Olbrich died. The power, the force behind the project, the Arboretum, which they called the Wingra Project at the time, he died on the 9th of October, 1929. He was only 48 years old. The Depression set in, the University Board of Regents hesitated now to accept the deeds to the 245 acres from the Madison Parks Foundation. Why? Well, it was obvious, the concern over the university's economic future was at the root of it, and the university didn't think that they needed 245 more acres to take care of and to be responsible for with the Depression setting in. So by the time you get to the end of December 1929, the Arboretum project, the Wingra Project it was called, seemed really dead in the water until this man, at Paul Stark's request, agreed in 1930 to take up Olbrich's mantle. He set out to convince the Board of Regents finally to accept the deeds to the six parcels, the 245 acres. And he was Colonel Joseph W "Bud" Jackson. Around the Arboretum, they referred to him as the White Knight. 

Jackson was quite a guy. He knew everybody in town and everybody in town knew Jackson. And he was a wonderful salesman. Without Jackson, most of the land that the Arboretum acquired never would have been acquired. He was a cowboy rancher, Army Calvary commander, rank of colonel, he served with Pershing in World War I, he returned to Madison after the war to run Madison's Jackson Clinic, which many of you, I'm sure, are familiar with if you're familiar with Madison history. This is Maurice McCaffrey, very important person, secretary, no less, of the Board of Regents. Also, he was the trust officer in charge of university investments, money, endowments. He was the guy who had his hands on all of it and knew where it was going and where to get it. He was a business genius. He had a reputation as a business genius around town and around the university. 

In July 1953, the Arboretum road would be dedicated to him and would be known as McCaffrey Drive. It goes by two names now. It's kind of got a duel identity. People call it Arboretum Drive, some people refer to it as McCaffrey Drive, it's both. But with the inside help of McCaffrey, Jackson and a revitalized Madison Parks Foundation pressured the regents into accepting the deeds on the 26th of April, 1932. On the 26th of April, 1932, folks, the Arboretum was created. It was formed, and it was formed as three things, this is very important: the University of Wisconsin Forest Preserve, Arboretum, and Wildlife Refuge. They wanted three things out of the place. That was April 1932. Four very long months later, in August 1932, UW president Glenn Frank finally got around to asking someone to do something about that 245 acres. 

He asked this professor to put a committee together. He was Ed Gilbert. Ed Gilbert, he was the head of the botany department in 1932. He formed an arboretum committee, and it took them three months to do it because they were moving into the semester and it took him time to get the people together. That arboretum committee consisted of faculty, but it also consisted of local businesspeople, local townies, Madisonian people. And so it had a mixed membership. Gilbert chaired that committee from 1932 until 1939. The Arboretum Committee would govern all the Arboretum decision making until the 1970s. They made the decisions. So, finally, on Saturday, November 26, 1932, the very first Arboretum Committee held its very first official meeting right here in the Historic University Club on the Library Mall. 

I think what a fitting place to have the first official meeting of the Arboretum Committee. Also in the autumn of 1932, G William "Bill" Longenecker, he had a Master's degree in landscape architecture from the University of Wisconsin, and, significantly, it was the first Master's degree in landscape architecture that was granted by the University of Wisconsin. The first one. And somehow that seems very appropriate that it would be Longenecker. Well, he was hired in the autumn of 1932, and he immediately began under Ed Gilbert's direction because Ed Gilbert was his senior professor. Guided him through his Master's work. He began the Arboretum pine reforestation on the southern-most end of that 245 acres. Now that's autumn 1932. A full year later, in August 1933, Aldo Leopold was hired as the first university professor of game management. Game management. 

It was also the first game management professorship in the US. Leopold was, remember the three things, they wanted an arboretum, a forest preserve, and they wanted a wildlife refuge. Aldo Leopold was hired to develop the Arboretum as a wildlife refuge. That's why he was hired. Specifically what they wanted, and what Dean Harry Russell from the Ag College wanted particularly, was a game bird sanctuary. And Leopold would be responsible for it. They could teach game cropping to Wisconsin farmers, and they could make extra money. It was the Depression. It made perfect sense. Now, okay, so, 1933, on October 2nd, three months after Leopold was hired, the Arboretum Committee appointed Longenecker as Executive Director of the Arboretum. 

At the same meeting on October 2, 1933, Leopold was appointed as Arboretum Director of Research. Leopold, as many of you are aware I'm sure, would die in 1948. Sand County Almanac was published in 1949. He knew it was going to be published, but he died before it was in print. He never had a chance to see it in print, which is terribly, very unfortunate. By October 1933, the UW Arboretum, as a functioning university facility, was launched. It was on its way. In 1934, on the 17th of June, the Arboretum was formally dedicated at a ceremony in this old barn on the property, with John Nolan, of all people, back from Boston in 1934 as the featured speaker at the formal dedication. That was the first time Nolan had been back in Madison since 1911. He came back for the dedication. 

He came back because he was the featured speaker. Okay, so, that's a nice, I think that's sort of a quick survey, anyway, of the very early history of the Arboretum. We don't have a lot of time, so I don't want to go on too long with the history very much, but I don't want to do anymore because it just gets so complicated. And, again, we've got the book. So if you want the full history, let me recommend or urge you to buy the book. But what I want to do with the time that remains is give you a visual historical tour down the Arboretum road and talk about some of the significant spots, sections along the road and the history of those sections. That will get us somewhere anyway because it's a hundred years of history, folks, and that's a lot of history there. Fascinating, fascinating people, fascinating developments. You don't separate this history from Madison's history, you can't, or from the history of, of course, the university. But we'll go down the road. 

McCaffrey Drive, also known to some people as Arboretum Drive. Again, here's the map from the Arboretum quarterly newsletter. That's available out on the table out there if you want a copy, by the way. This is the centerfold. And this is the road. It snakes its way right here, through the Arboretum. From Seminole Highway on the west end to Mills Street on the east end. And that is the 60-acre Curtis Prairie. If you enter the Arboretum at the Seminole Highway entrance, as you come down the hill, over past the Noe Woods, what you see in the distance is the 60-acre Curtis Prairie. It is, and it's documented, it is the oldest restored tall grass prairie in the United States. 

There are people around the Arboretum who like to say the world, but I just don't think I want to go that far because there's actually no real documentation for that. Since I guess there's no reason not to believe it, I guess we can make the claim. But definitely it is the oldest restored tall grass prairie in the nation, and it was named after this man, John T Curtis who was the director of plant research who would oversee most of the Arboretum planting during the 1940s and 1950s. Now, this is important. He was hired in 1940. When he was hired in 1940, he took over all of the plant research duties from Leopold. And Leopold was the person on the staff who was probably most interested in hiring Curtis. And he went to bat for Curtis to take over the plant research duties. Curtis agreed, and what this did was free Aldo Leopold up in 1940 so that Leopold could do what in 1940 Leopold wanted very desperately to do, and that was to write personal essays. He was so busy prior to this time, he hadn't had time to write the personal essays that he really was interested in writing. 

Now he did. From 1940 to 1947, he wrote a lot of personal essays, most of which ended up in the Sand County Almanac. So I think it's safe to assume if John Curtis had not been hired in 1940, we might never have had the Sand County Almanac. Interesting development. The prairie was named after Curtis, but Curtis did not put it in. Curtis was hired in 1940. The prairie started to go in in spring of 1936, and it was being put in by this guy, Ted Sperry. Ted Sperry. He was the director of the fieldwork. He worked with the 2670th Company of the CCC who had arrived at Camp Madison in August 1935. 

Sperry was a prairie ecologist, and they were hard to find at that time. He was a prairie ecologist from the University of Illinois, and he was hired by the Arboretum Committee in 1936. And he was brought to Madison, to the Arboretum, specifically to Camp Madison was what it was called at the time because the CCC was there, he was brought to Camp Madison specifically to make a prairie. And he supervised all of the prairie work. Here he is with the CCC guys transplanting prairie plants. I like this slide because they seem to be enjoying themselves, don't they? Having a good time. And here's the payoff. Here's the result after 77 years of effort. Grant Cottam, who chairs the Arboretum Committee after Curtis dies, Grant Cottam would say that it would take at least 50 years to get a prairie going so that it really began to look like a restored tall grass prairie. Well, this one has been going for 77 years, and here's the payoff, the result. 

This is what it looks like in summer and into early fall. It's beautiful. It's, I think, the most scenic time for the prairie, late summer/early fall. These photos, by the way, are taken by Molly Murray who's our Arboretum Outreach Manager, and she's become quite a very talented, I think, nature photographer over the years. She does most of the nature photography now for the Arboretum. All right, if we move from Curtis Prairie and move along the road north, we come to Longenecker Gardens, which is 50 acres. Named after, of course, Bill Longenecker, the Arboretum Executive Director, who began planting his famous lilacs and his trees in March 1935. His equally famous crab apple collection was begun in 1942. Here's some shots of Longenecker Gardens. That shot up on top, by the way, is the new entrance that was put in last year. 

The Pinetum is down here on the left. That's one of my favorite spots. I like it. It stays green. And if you haven't been to the Arboretum and if you haven't been to Longenecker Gardens, don't miss the Pinetum. There's a shot of some fall colors, but this is an interesting point. Longenecker Gardens is the arboretum part of the Arboretum. It is horticultural. The rest of the Arboretum is a huge forest preserve with restored plant communities. But this is the arboretum part of the Arboretum. 

If you understand an arboretum to be what I think an arboretum is, a museum of trees and shrubs, and that's what Longenecker Gardens is. And these are not all native plants. Many of them are exotics. And so it is what an arboretum is supposed to be. A museum of trees and shrubs. On the south end of most of these trees and shrubs, if you look closely, you'll see little tags that tell you what you're looking at. Okay, let's see. The collection includes over 200 different lilacs, 90 crab apples, 40 viburnums. Most of them in the Viburnum Garden, that was also designed by Longenecker, you can see the Viburnum Garden over there on the left. That's the location that's right next to Manitou Way on the west end of the Arboretum. 

Now, if we leave Longenecker Gardens and move east, we pass, on our left, Wingra Woods, which is a 52-acre forest. There are pileated Woodpeckers in there, by the way, and also they've seen them in Gallistel now. Gallistel Woods is the woods that would be to your right. It's a 28-acre forest, and the spring flowers in Gallistel are really very often spectacular. This year, particularly, they were spectacular. But we're moving right along the road to, oh, by the way, Gallistel Woods was named after this guy, Albert Gallistel, who was the University of Wisconsin Superintendent of Building and Grounds. Extremely important and very, very important to the history of the Arboretum. He was the Arboretum Committee Chair after Ed Gilbert for 29 years. And I think Gallistel first came to this university, if I'm not mistaken, in 1907. That's how long he was around. 

An amazing man. Very, very important. But this was what we're moving toward. This was what I had been waiting to get to. Okay? And we've got time. This is one of the most interesting parts, I think, of the Arboretum and one of the most interesting stories connected to the Arboretum history, and that is the story of the Lost City Forest. The history. It begins about 1911 when Lake Forest Land Company, which was run by a man named Bernie Chapman, decided to build a suburb. They wanted it to be on the south shore of Lake Wingra. They called it the, they were advertising it as the Venice of the North, believe it or not. 

And they started construction in 1916. Sidewalks were put in, streets were put in, lagoons and canals were dug to enable boats, hence Venice of the North, boats to pass into and out of the suburb. Now, here's a glitzed up promotional map from that time. You can see Lake Wingra. You can see the dredged lagoon here that the Lake Forest people put in. They dredged this. It's still over there. If you drive up Carver Street, you'll see the lagoon. You can see what they had in mind. They wanted people in this suburb to have boats docked here. 

They could take their boats down the lagoon, down the canal, and right into Lake Wingra, hence the Venice of the North. This design was based on the colonial village green concept where you have blocks radiating out from a large circle or hub reminiscent of the design of Pierre L'Enfant, who designed what major great city in the US? >> Washington. >> Washington, DC. Absolutely. Yes indeed. Makes sense. You can see Capital Avenue here, extending northeast of the circle. The folks who were buying land here and were going to build homes, they were guaranteed a view of the Capitol on Capital Avenue. That was one of the selling points. In 1916, the work began. 

They planned 200 homes, small bungalows and cottages mainly. They were small lots. A nine-hole golf course. They wanted a swimming beach on Lake Wingra. By 1920, 61 lots were sold, one house was built in the Carver and Martin Street area in '20. In '22, 73 lots were sold, six houses were built. All seven of those houses are still standing. Six are now on the little side streets connecting Carver and Martin. I'll show you on a map here in a minute. It will make it clear. 

Connecting Carver and Martin Streets. The seventh is a big adobe house in the current Forest Park neighborhood. It was originally owned by a professor from geology named --. They used to call that area -- Hill, but they don't anymore, I guess. Three other homes also had been started in 1921 in the area west of Carver and Martin Streets. Two foundations are still there, and they're still standing. Note: they have not sunk into the ground, ladies and gentlemen. That tells us something. Let's take a look at the maps. This map is closer to what the development was really going to look like. 

You can see Carver and Martin Streets here, the six houses, the circle, the hub, Capital Avenue. This is where the three houses were built that were never sold. And this is where the two foundations that are left over in the dense Lost City Forest, that's where they're located. The seventh house was up here in the Park Forest neighborhood. The swimming beach was there. You can see. This is our map. It shows this is a recent, current map. So it gives you a sense of what's there now. The circle, you see this little -- right here? If you come down Carver Street and make the turn, you're on the outer edge of that circle or hub. 

And if you make a right turn and go up Baldwin Street to that corner right there, the northwest corner, that's where the adobe house is that Professor -- bought. And it's still there. There are still six houses down here between Carver and Martin Street. Now, Capital Avenue was torn up  when the housing development, the whole thing tanked, and eventually the university bought up all the land. That's why it's university property. And when the university would buy up the land, they frequently tore up the concrete. Capital Avenue is now a hiking trail, but it still follows the same direction. This was a road that came off Martin Street and went down into the suburb. It is now a trail, but in the early part of that, up by the trail head, if you look down when you're moving into that hiking trail, you can see concrete. The concrete is still there, and that's the concrete that was leftover from the time when the project was under construction. 

 Okay, let's see. These are photos of the development from the early '20s. Those are the houses between Carver and Martin Street. Here's a sidewalk and street being built. This was one of the three houses that were built back in that area that was west of Carver and Martin Street. This is one of the three houses that never sold, and I think this was one of the foundations we still have back there in the woods, in the forest. Here they're working on Capital Avenue. You know how we know? You can see the Capitol in the distance. And there, working on the hub or the circle. And this is, here are the concrete steps that are still there. 

They haven't sunk. That's interesting. And that's Rosemary Fleming, who, along with Jim Zimmerman, they called him Jim Zim around Madison, he was the Pied Piper of Madison, I think the Wisconsin State Journal once tagged him as, or it was the Cap Times, but anyway, they started the guide program which is still going very, very strong at the Arboretum, but it was started by Rosemary and Jim Zim. 1922 was the end of the dream. That was when the worked stopped, and there was no more progress made on the Venice of the North, the suburb that was going in on the south shore of Lake Wingra. Now, the initial work stoppage, this is when I thought I might disappoint some of you with this, but unfortunately it's the truth, the initial work stoppage had nothing at all to do with the houses and streets sinking into the ground. That is, I'm sorry to say, folklore. It's an interesting bit of Madison folklore. It's fun to talk about it and think about it, but it wasn't the reason why the work stopped. The reason why the worked stopped was because of the devil in the lost city, with apologies to Erik Larson. 

His name was Victor H Arnold. Frank Custer from the Cap Times, he was a Cap Times reporter, referred to Arnold as, "a golden tongued junk bond salesman, a preacher, financier, and flamboyant big spender." Arnold was the president of the Madison bond company that issued and sold the bonds for the Lake Forest Land Company. That is the money that was set aside for the development and for the construction of the suburb. He was a swindler. He was a colorful flimflam man. A high roller. A con artist who lived lavishly. Eleven cars at one time. Big houses. He traveled with Hollywood movie personalities. 

And he held the bonds for the Lake Forest Company. Let me read from my text here, okay? In 1922, Arnold by this time is discovered. Bernie Chapman realizes in 1921-1922 that they're broke. They're broke. They have no more money. They can't continue with the development. Arnold skips town, and he heads to New York City. I'll pick it up there. About a year later, no, in November 1922, the New York Times began reporting on Arnold's exemplary religious mission to assist New York's poor. The Times, unaware of his criminal dealings in Madison, lionized him as the banker preacher and the November 6th story's headline in boldface capital letters read "BANKER IN SERMON CALLS THE POOR TO HIM." Arnold had begun to offer a series of Sunday morning religious services in town hall, 43rd Street east of Broadway, where, the headline continued, "rent exceeds collection." Arnold, it seems, had magnanimously decided during the service to dispense with the collection, but the appreciative audience in a gesture of support vowed to make an offering anyway. 

So by the end of 1922, the flimflam man who had built thousands in Madison and Chicago had become in New York an evangelizing hero, a street preacher. If you know, I'm quoting him now, "if you know of any poor or sick," he told the Times reporters, "if you know of any poor or sick, please give me their names and addresses, and I will visit them and try to help." And he just embezzled money, a huge amount of money from the Lake Forest Land Company. Arnold, the Times story reported, retired, that's what he told him, retired from business in order to devote all his time to Christian work. On December 27, 1922, the morning after his arrest, the federal authorities finally caught up with him. His wife was quoted as insisting he had been victimized by a Madison political ring that was jealous and was doing all in its power to undo him. She told the Times reporters that she was in the process of trying to raise bail to get Arnold out of jail, but we are penniless. And then she added as an afterthought so ludicrous that it's hard to believe that she may actually have meant it, "My husband telephoned me from the jail tonight," she said, to tell her that perhaps he can do some good while he's there in jail. Well, anyway, so that was what happened, and that is why the Lake Forest Land Company stopped work on the project. Arnold had squandered before he finished up with his embezzlement and his thievery, he had squandered all the money, $14 million worth of money. That's six zeroes. 

No capital. No construction. The Lake Forest Company was bankrupt. Arnold was arrested in late December 1922 on a federal warrant listing 31 charges, including embezzlement, taking flight to avoid arrest, and he was brought back to Wisconsin where he was tried in Superior, Wisconsin. In October 1923, the town hall preacher was sentenced to five years in Leavenworth. Five years is a pretty light sentence. I sort of think around today he would have gotten more than five years. But I did some following up on him, you can do this with Leavenworth prisoners I discovered. He was prisoner number 23967. He was released in 1928. 

He went to Chicago. He sold electrical supplies in Chicago for a while, until 1935 when he went to Connecticut where he died in 1947.  But, as early as 1932, that was when the Arboretum was founded, who else but Jackson had started acquiring Lake Forest plots of land from Bernie Chapman for the Arboretum. And it's a fascinating story, and it's in the book. All of the experiences that Bud Jackson had with some of the people he was dealing with. Some of it's funny, some of it's not, but it's really very, very interesting. It took him 30 years, Bud Jackson, working almost solely by himself, folks. By himself. 30 years. Finally in 1963, Jackson managed to acquire the last parcels, and the land became known, now famously, as the Lost City Forest. 

Let's see, well, I'm running out of time I can see. We've got about a little more than five minutes. I was hoping I might be able to say something or read a little about the 1953 jet crash in the Redwing Marsh. That's an interesting story too, believe me. It symbolizes what was happening in the 1950s to the Arboretum, threats from outside. Suddenly, out of the blue, I mean the blue, literally, comes this thing, this jet from Truax Field with a pilot and his radar officer. They've lost control and they were heading for St. Mary's hospital. I won't even go any farther. It's a good story. Also, I wanted to tell you about Louis Gardner. 

What a generous guy who made the purchase of the Gardner Marsh possible in 1936. Let me get on with this. That's the plane crash. There's Louis. There's Louis Gardner. Louis Gardner owned Gardner Bakery on East Wash. You probably know about him. But he was a very generous guy. Gardner Marsh was acquired in 1936 by Bud Jackson, and what it did, folks, it really then, speaking of, there we go, speaking of the road, it made, you can see that the acquisition of Gardner Marsh made the construction of the road possible. So, consequently, as a result of that, it was tough getting the property out of Bernie Chapman's hands, but Bud Jackson was relentless. 

Believe me, it's a great story. And Bud Jackson finally got Bernie Chapman to make a deal. They couldn't get all the money they needed. Finally they got it and they got it because Louis Gardner came forward and gave them, I think, 15,000 bucks to really clinch the deal. He was always doing stuff like that. The Arboretum owes him, Madison owes Louis Gardner a tremendous debt. We got five minutes. I was going to read some reflections, some thoughts I had after writing this wonderful history. We don't have time for that. I'd like to take the last five minutes and just entertain some questions. 

But let me move on with this. So, I have a chapter at the end, a section at the end called reflections, and it gives me the opportunity to reflect at the advice of the wonderful editors, by the way, from the Wisconsin University Press who recommended this. I wasn't going to do it, and I was glad now. I'm glad, so glad that I did. It's a good fitting conclusion to that history. And so this is it. The end. Thank you very much. [APPLAUSE]