Ah yes the famous twins of yore. There's no denying that Clegg was an excellent photographer with a good eye for composition.
Beebe was just exactly what he was supposed to be - a supercilious windbag and a great orator of the written word. Just as we don't expect facts from statesmen making political speechs on the Fourth of July, we can, nevertheless, admire, perhaps even appreciate, thier craftsmanship for oratory excess, nonesense and just plain fun.
Read Beebe's tirade tantrums during his pointless struggle to save the Virginia and Truckee. His logic was breathtakingly absurd and his level of rancor was totally beyond the pale. Yet his quixotic excess makes him a hero, at least in our hearts.
Mark Twain, it is said, was run out of Virginia City for flapping his pen a little too mightily. Yet, he made heros of jumping frogs, riverboat captains and whelpy little lads who you'd probably whip with a chainsaw if you ever had to babysit them.
Yes, and they critisize Stewart Holbrook as well. Too many overblown words, too many facts not quite right, too many logging personalities elevated to status far beyond thier due. Too much literary license the bored and desperate will claim.
The story goes that Beebe and Holbrook were walking trough the NW side of downtown Portland when they were accosted by, what Beebe described as a "blowsy" that propositioned them. "Holbrook was like a kid with a firecracker" wrote Beebe, "See what I mean" quoth Holbrook to his guest, "Anything goes in Portland! Widest open G*ddamm town in the West!". Of course Beebe relates this about "poor Stewart" probably because, if anyone knew degradation and excess, it was of course the Master himself. What a glorious pissing contest! And how utterly priceless.
Why is there so much cultural love for cowboys? For gold miners? For mainline trainmen?
It's because those professions have enjoyed a large number of scriptual lackies with tastes for the pen even more outrageous than Beebe or Holbrook. Here we've been trumped by sheer numbers as much as brilliant talent.
Those of us who consider ourselves dry, super accurate "dead right or piss off" historians have our place (a place I think very much more than a bit important) but let's not forget that it takes a lot of laxative to move the masses. Never let the facts get in the way of a good story. And we NEED those who can tell a good story.
As a logging historian-in-training (that inludes the railroads that served them) I wouldn't want it any other way. We could use a little more grand and flowery horse manure and the wonderous cranks like Beebe to spread it. We live in lean, cynical times.
Beebe described himself as a "rennaisance man", an immodest title to give oneself, so it fit him perfectly. And the Grand Bon Bivant could put any dandy, swell or puffer to shame. God bless the King and the legacy he's left us.
Lon Wall
PS - If you dissagree with me you should remember that we're still talking about Beebe and I'll bet not one of you can tell me the name of the guy who wrote the operators manual to the 1951 Oliver 70.
