This amendment, limiting the extent to which Congress could raise their salaries, was nearly 200 years in the making.
FROM: ARCHIVESFOUNDATION.ORG:
(Very) Early Origins
The text of the 27th Amendment reads: “No law, varying the compensation for the services of the Senators and Representatives, shall take effect, until an election of Representatives shall have intervened.” The issue of lawmakers’ salaries was quite contentious during the Constitutional Convention. The framers held competing visions about the extent to which congressmen should be paid, if at all. One of the most vocal opponents to congressional pay altogether was Benjamin Franklin.
Franklin argued that public servants should work without pay, believing that they should be virtuous in their commitment to governmental service. Ultimately, his view was on the more extreme end and did not make its way into the draft constitution. While representation in the early iterations of Congress was still quite limited to white landowning men, the provision for a salary at least opened the opportunity to more than the wealthy. While the inclusion of compensation was eventually agreed upon, many framers and the general public still worried that people would greedily enter public office to enrich themselves. James Madison foresaw the complication of allowing Congress to adjust its own salary without some guidelines. He also worried that having the President control congressional salaries could lead to bitter politicking and corruption.
In 1789, Madison and other framers submitted 12 amendments to the U.S. Constitution to the first Congress. The first 10, known as the Bill of Rights, were fully ratified in 1791. The congressional pay provision, however, was only ratified at the time by six states. Because there was no time limit on ratification, what eventually became the 27th Amendment lay dormant for nearly two centuries.
An Unexpected Voice for Change
Gregory Watson was a sophomore studying political science at the University of Texas at Austin in 1982. In a class on constitutional law, students were asked to write about constitutional change and process. Watson’s paper argued that since time limits on ratification were not enumerated anywhere in the Constitution, the congressional pay provision was still “live” and thus could be ratified and implemented. While Watson received a grade of C for his argument, he did not let that stop his momentum. He initiated a letter-writing campaign to various state legislatures in the hopes of closing the loop on ratification. Starting with Maine and Colorado, states began ratifying the amendment. Watson’s movement gained quite a bit of traction and media attention nationwide. By 1992, three-quarters of the states reached the necessary consensus as laid out in Article V of the Constitution to legitimize the 27th Amendment. For the first time in history, the Archivist of the United States certified the amendment.
Concerns were raised about the legality of the ratification process after its passage, since the first six states signed on in the 18th century. Some scholars interpret the process of ratification laid out in Article V as needing to be a simultaneous event, with state-by-state ratification taking place within a short time span. This is in sharp contrast to the elongated timeline for the 27th Amendment. The Speaker of the House at the time even proposed litigating its legitimacy until it was clear that the provision had gained widespread popularity among the general public.
The amendment process is an important cornerstone of checks and balances inherent to our democratic system. During every two-year term in the House of Representatives, members of Congress typically propose about 200 amendments, although few ever make it out of committees. Despite its unusual path to ratification, the 27th amendment’s saga is the realization of the framers’ wishes for a participatory and engaged citizenry.
May 2, 2011, Operation Neptune Spear killed Osama Bin Laden. This article, found on Facts.net, details 28 facts about the operation.
The Operation That Ended It All
On May 2, 2011, the world witnessed the end of a chapter in the fight against terrorism. The death of Osama bin Laden marked a significant moment in history. Here are some intriguing facts about that fateful day.
Operation Neptune Spear: The mission to capture or kill Osama bin Laden was named Operation Neptune Spear. It was carried out by the United States Navy SEALs.
Location: Bin Laden was found in a compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan, a city known for its military academy.
SEAL Team 6: The elite SEAL Team 6, also known as DEVGRU, executed the mission.
Helicopter Crash: One of the helicopters used in the raid crashed due to a vortex created by the high walls of the compound. Fortunately, no one was injured.
Stealth Technology: The helicopters used in the raid were modified with stealth technology to avoid detection by Pakistani radar.
40 Minutes: The entire operation lasted approximately 40 minutes from start to finish.
Code Name: Bin Laden’s code name during the operation was “Geronimo.”
DNA Confirmation: Bin Laden’s identity was confirmed through DNA testing, comparing his DNA to that of his sister who had died in Boston.
The Aftermath and Global Reaction
The death of Osama bin Laden had a profound impact globally. Nations reacted, and the world watched closely as details emerged.
Immediate Burial: Bin Laden’s body was buried at sea within 24 hours of his death to adhere to Islamic traditions and prevent his grave from becoming a shrine.
Global Reactions: Countries around the world had mixed reactions. Some celebrated, while others condemned the operation as a violation of Pakistan’s sovereignty.
Security Alerts: Following the raid, the U.S. and other countries heightened security alerts, anticipating possible retaliatory attacks.
Al-Qaeda’s Response: Al-Qaeda confirmed bin Laden’s death and vowed to continue their fight against the West.
Impact on Terrorism: Bin Laden’s death was a significant blow to Al-Qaeda, but it did not mark the end of terrorism. New leaders emerged, and the fight continued.
The Compound and Its Secrets
The compound where bin Laden was hiding held many secrets and provided valuable intelligence.
High Walls: The compound had unusually high walls, some reaching up to 18 feet, topped with barbed wire.
No Internet or Phone: To avoid detection, the compound had no internet or phone connections.
Burning Trash: Residents of the compound burned their trash instead of putting it out for collection, a practice that raised suspicions.
Intelligence Cache: The raid yielded a treasure trove of intelligence, including computers, hard drives, and documents.
Family Presence: Bin Laden’s family, including his youngest wife and several children, were living with him in the compound.
The Planning and Execution
The planning and execution of the raid were meticulous and involved numerous agencies and months of preparation.
CIA’s Role: The CIA played a crucial role in tracking bin Laden’s courier, which eventually led them to the Abbottabad compound.
Mock Compound: A full-scale replica of the compound was built in the U.S. for SEAL Team 6 to practice the raid.
President’s Decision: President Barack Obama gave the final go-ahead for the operation after months of deliberation and intelligence gathering.
Night Vision Goggles: The SEALs used night vision goggles to navigate the compound in the dark.
Silent Entry: The SEALs used suppressed weapons to maintain the element of surprise.
The Legacy of the Raid
The raid left a lasting legacy, influencing future counter-terrorism operations and shaping public perception.
Hollywood Adaptation: The raid inspired the Hollywood movie “Zero Dark Thirty,” which depicted the hunt for bin Laden.
Public Opinion: The successful operation boosted President Obama’s approval ratings and was seen as a significant achievement of his administration.
Training and Tactics: The raid’s success influenced military training and tactics for future counter-terrorism missions.
Memorials and Tributes: Memorials and tributes were held across the U.S. to honor the victims of 9/11 and the soldiers who carried out the mission.
Ongoing Debate: The legality and ethics of the raid continue to be debated, with discussions about sovereignty, international law, and the use of force.
The ‘Sultana’ was carrying some 2,000 freed Union soldiers from Confederate prisons when three of its four boilers blew, sending the ship into flame and chaos. On April 27, 1865, the United States experiences its worst maritime disaster in history. Mere weeks after the Civil War came to an end, the steamboat, Sultana exploded and sank in the Mississippi River, killing an estimated 1,200 to 1,800 Union soldiers who were released from prison and on their way home.
The sinking of the Sultana claimed more victims than the Titanic, yet the tragedy remains largely forgotten in American history. But behind the devastation lurked conspiracy, foul-play, and negligence, that perhaps suggest the disaster could have been avoided.
Corruption Aboard The Sultana
Following the end of the Civil War in 1865, both Confederates and Unionists scrambled to pick up the pieces left over by the bloody conflict. This included the release of war prisoners from both sides. Thousands of newly paroled Union soldiers who had been held in the Confederate prison camps of Cahaba near Selma, Alabama, and Andersonville, in southwest Georgia, had all been brought to a smaller camp outside of Vicksburg, Mississippi. They needed passage north.
Meanwhile, Captain James Cass Mason of St. Louis was in command of a paddle-wheeler called Sultana headed for Missouri. The small wooden steamboat typically carried a crew of 85 and was intended for cotton transport before it was commissioned to transport troops instead.
During a stop in Vicksburg to address a boiler issue, the steamboat skipper received word that the U.S. government was willing to pay a princely fee — $5 for each released soldier and $10 for each officer — for the transport of former Union prisoners back North.
Captain Mason, lured by the promise of a handsome payday, seized the opportunity and accepted a bribe from an officer to transport as many paroled Union prisoners as he could fit onto the Sultana. In his haste, Captain Mason chose not to repair the ship’s boiler as extensively as it required and chose instead to settle with a quick, temporary fix.
The captain worried had he waited to fix the boiler as it required, the Union soldiers would find alternative passage northbound.
According to Jerry Potter, a lawyer-turned-author who wrote The Sultana Tragedy: America’s Greatest Maritime Disaster, the captain loaded on more men than the boat was meant to carry.
“The boat had a legal carrying capacity of 376 passengers,” Potter explained. “On its up-river trip, it had over 2,500 aboard.”
The Sinking Of The Sultana
On April 24, 1865, the Sultana departed from Vicksburg northbound. Aboard her overcrowded decks were some 1,960 paroled prisoners, 22 guards from the 58th Ohio Volunteer Infantry, 70 paying cabin passengers, and 85 crew members. Many of the paroled soldiers were in poor condition having just left Confederate hospitals or prisons.
Additionally, it was a particularly bad day to be out on the water. The Mississippi River was experiencing high water levels as melting snow from up north flooded its banks. Fallen trees and other debris mixed into the fast-moving waterways. It was difficult to navigate these clogged and swirling waters come nightfall, but Captain Mason was determined to make his shipment of soldiers. They stopped briefly in Memphis and continued on their journey by nighttime.
At approximately 2 a.m. on April 27, several miles from Memphis, Tennessee, one of the Sultana’s boilers exploded. Because the boat had been so packed, many of the passengers were crammed right by the boilers.
The explosion instantly killed hundreds, mostly soldiers from Kentucky and Tennessee who had been packed in right against the boilers. Many of them instantly died from shrapnel, steam, and the boiling water released from the explosion.
Then, another two boilers exploded.
“One minute they were sleeping and the next they found themselves struggling to swim in the very cold Mississippi River. Some passengers burned on the boat,” wrote Potter.
He wrote further that “the fortunate ones clung to debris in the river, or to horses and mules that had escaped the boat, hoping to make it to shore, which they could not see because it was dark and the flooded river was at that point almost five miles wide.”
The Sultana descended into chaos. Passengers aboard the 260-foot-long boat were torn between two choices: stay on the boat and possibly die from the fire or jump into the water to face the possibility of drowning. Either way, the odds of survival were slim. Soldiers having just left war now found themselves again fighting for their lives.
Accounts From Victims Of The Sultana Sinking
As the Sultana began to sink nearby the small town of Marion deep in southern Confederacy territory, passing boats and local residents began a chaotic rescue operation to save the soldiers on board.
Newspaper reports indicate that a local man, John Fogelman, and his sons were among these rescuers. Fogelman’s descendant, current Marion Mayor Frank Fogelman said that the boat’s direction had caused the wind to blow fire toward the rear of the ship.
The paddle wheel on one side fell off and caused the boat to turn sideways before the other paddle wheel succumbed as well.
“I understand that the Fogelmans were able to put together some logs to make a raft and go out and take people off the boat as it drifted back this way,” Mayor Frank Fogelman shared about his ancestor’s heroic action. “In order to save time, they would set the people off in treetops, and go back to the boat to take more off.”
The soldiers aboard the Sultana, having just survived a bloody Civil War and horrendous conditions during their imprisonment as prisoners, were now dealt with another traumatic blow as the boat continued to catch fire and disappear into the Mississippi River.
“When I came to my senses I found myself… surrounded by wreckage, and in the midst of smoke and fire,” wrote one Ohio soldier in a collection of survivor essays titled, Loss of the Sultana and Reminiscences of Survivors.
The same Union soldier continued, “The agonizing shrieks and groans of the injured and dying were heart-rending, and the stench of burning flesh was intolerable and beyond my power of description.”
Another survivor, also from Ohio, wrote “There were some killed in the explosion, lying in the bottom of the boat, being trampled upon, while some were crying and praying, many were cursing while others were singing… That sight I shall never forget; I often see it in my sleep, and wake with a start.”
It only took a few hours before the Sultana reached the bottom of the Mississippi.
Some of the rescuers had been Confederate soldiers who lived in the area by the river near where the Sultana had sunk. It is incredible to think that only a few weeks before the incident these men would have been at each other’s throats. But amid the wreckage of the Sultana disaster, they were on each other’s sides.
Bodies from the Sultana wreckage had horrifyingly continued to surface downriver even months after the accident. While some were recovered, many were never found. Captain Mason was among the dead.
Conspiracy And Corruption, Aboard The Disaster
Arguably many of the factors which contributed to the destruction of the Sultana could likely have been avoided. Most obvious is the extreme overcrowding on board made possible by a bribe to officials and the severe weather conditions that the boat then faced. Then, there was the improper handling of a damaged boiler. Apparently, Captain Mason and his chief engineer ordered one of their mechanics to do a quick (and likely faulty) repair in order to resume their voyage on the river. “He told the captain and the chief engineer the boiler was not safe, but the engineer said he would have a complete repair job done when the boat made it to St. Louis,” Potter said. But these explanations have not stopped internet sleuths and their imaginations from running amok. For example, many believe that the incident was not heard of because the government had intentionally downplayed the number of casualties. There were so many mistakes that could have been prevented by government oversight, it is possible that officials wanted to keep things quiet.
A more extreme conspiracy posits that the whole incident had been a part of a master plan concocted by the Confederacy to sabotage Unionists on board. By one account, a known Confederate saboteur named Robert Louden had claimed to have actually launched a coal torpedo at the ship in an attempt to kill the enemy Union soldiers aboard. This claim was, however, mostly disproved.
But a more reasonable explanation as to why the disaster was so easily forgotten is that it had been overshadowed by a bigger, more historically significant tragedy — the assassination of then-president Abraham Lincoln.
While Lincoln’s shocking murder occurred nearly two weeks prior to the Sultana’s demise, the ripples of his assassination lingered long after.
In a way, the public had also been desensitized to extreme suffering after having endured a bloody Civil War that lasted for four years. To some, the lost lives of another 2,000 or so men perhaps seemed incomparable at the time.
Ultimately, no one was charged for the deaths of those on board the Sultana, even after an investigation and military tribunal was held.
An estimated 1,800 men were lost by the Sultana. By comparison, the sinking of the Titanic took a little over 1,500 lives. The Sultana disaster remains an unresolved tragedy and the worst in American maritime history.
There is a silver lining to this tragedy, however. More than two decades later, survivors of the Sultana from across the country have met annually around the anniversary of the ship’s sinking to pay hommage.
After the last survivor died in 1936, the children and grandchildren of survivors who had grown up listening to the incredible survival stories of their forefathers picked up the tradition. These annual reunions are still held today.
For instance, Mary Beth Mason, the granddaughter of Sultana survivor William Carter Warner, remembers his bravery today. Warner had joined the Union Army’s 9th Indiana Cavalry as a teenager before he was imprisoned during the Civil War and eventually landed aboard the Sultana. When the tragedy struck, Warner managed to swim to the shore of the Mississippi River.
“My grandfather could have died in Cahaba prison when he was 16,” Mason said. “He could have died on the Sultana, but he didn’t…Of course, it’s important in my family. My father would have never been born. I would have never been born.”
To this day, Mason holds on to her late grandfather’s official survivor’s certificate that he received in September 1888 from the Sultana Survivors Association.
For the descendants of Sultana survivors like Mary Beth Mason, keeping the memory of what happened alive is an important way to honor their ancestors. Roughly 100 of the survivors’ grandchildren and great-grandchildren meet every year on their behalf.
“We’ve done a lot to keep the story and to spread the story,” said Norman Shaw, who founded the Association of Sultana Descendants and Friends.
“These fellows felt history forgot about them… We’re following the wishes of the original survivors to keep the story alive.”
A tense miners’ strike escalated to violence on April 20, 1914 at a Rockefeller-owned Colorado Fuel & Iron Mine in Las Animas County, involving Colorado National Guard raiding a camp of striking coal miners.
Today, the Ludlow Massacre is widely recognized as a pivotal turning point in the struggle for workers’ rights in the United States.
Miners and their families had previously been evicted from their homes after CF&I rejected the miners’ requests for hourly pay, collective bargaining rights, and safer working conditions. CF&I’s rejection of the miners’ demands led to the strike, and workers and their families were forced to create a tent colony in Ludlow.
CF&I was one of the most powerful mining companies during the period, with 7,000 workers and control of nearly 70,000 acres of land. The company was also one of the worst violators of existing mine safety rules, according to the National Park Service (NPS).
The strike came to a breaking point when Colorado National Guardsmen were mobilized in an effort to break the strike and attacked the Ludlow Tent Colony. A gun battle between the miners and company guards and Colorado National Guardsmen broke out. When miners fled to the hills, the militia led a raid that ended in the burning of the camp. Tragically, this resulted in the deaths of 13 women and children who were trapped in a hiding place in a tent cellar.
In total, 21 people were killed in the massacre.
The Ludlow Massacre triggered 10 days of ongoing conflict in Colorado as miners attacked a series of mines on a 40-mile stretch between Trinidad and Walsenburg. According to a previous article from The Gazette, more than 70 people died in conflicts along the Front Range between 1913 and 1914 in what is now known as the Colorado Coalfield War.
The public outcry that followed the massacre spurred Congress into action, leading the House Committee to launch an investigation into the tragedy. Their 1915 report helped drive the adoption of child labor laws and the enforcement of the eight-hour workday.
According to NPS, the landscape where the tent colony was located is designated as a National Historic Landmark.
The Ludlow Massacre Memorial was vandalized in 2003 and later repaired in 2005. The United Mine Workers of America established the memorial, which invites visitors to walk down the stairs to where the women and children were found.
Today, the Ludlow Massacre represents a pivotal moment that helped to reshape workers’ rights in the U.S.
Apollo 13 was NASA’s third moon-landing mission but didn’t reach the lunar surface. A series of problems plagued the Odyssey spacecraft which was designed to bring them home, causing the crew to abandon all thoughts of reaching the moon.
A fire ripped through one of Odyssey’s oxygen tanks and damaged another. Oxygen fed the fuel cells in the spacecraft, so power was also reduced. Fortunately, the spacecraft Aquarius — designed to land on the moon — was still in working order. But Aquarius didn’t have a heat shield so it would not survive the reentry back to Earth. So, the crew crammed themselves into Aquarius — which was designed for two people, not three — and began the long cold journey home. Without a source of heat, cabin temperatures quickly dropped close to freezing. Some food became inedible. The crew also rationed water to make sure Aquarius — operating for longer than it was designed — would have enough liquid to cool its hardware down. In the hours before splashdown, the exhausted crew scrambled back over to the Odyssey and powered it up. Thanks to a monumental effort from the crew, mission control and spacecraft manufacturers helping with the mission, Lovell, Haise and Swigert safely splashed down in the Pacific Ocean near Samoa, on April 17, 1970.
How did Apollo 13 get back to Earth safely?
The Apollo 13 crew used their lunar lander — Aquarius — as a makeshift ‘lifeboat’ to survive the long cold journey back to Earth. It was a rough journey home. The entire spaceflight crew lost weight, and Fred Haise developed a kidney infection. But the small vessel protected and carried the crew long enough to reach Earth’s atmosphere. The crew only returned to Odyssey in the hours before splashdown to power it up and begin their reentry to Earth. Apollo 13: “Houston, we’ve had a problem” Apollo 13 launched on April 11, 1970. The Apollo spacecraft was made up of two independent spacecraft joined by a tunnel: orbiter Odyssey, and lander Aquarius. The crew lived in Odyssey on the journey to the moon.
On the evening of April 13, when the crew was nearly 322,000 kilometers (200,000 miles) from Earth and closing in on the moon, mission controller Sy Liebergot saw a low-pressure warning signal on a hydrogen tank in Odyssey.
The signal could have shown a problem, or could have indicated the hydrogen just needed to be resettled by heating and fanning the gas inside the tank. That procedure was called a “cryo stir”, and was supposed to stop the supercold gas from settling into layers.
Swigert flipped the switch for the routine procedure. A moment later, the entire spacecraft shook. Alarm lights lit up in Odyssey and in Mission Control as oxygen pressure fell and power disappeared. The crew notified Mission Control, with Swigert famously saying, “Houston, we’ve had a problem.” (Note that the 1995 movie “Apollo 13” took some creative license with the phrase, changing it to “Houston, we have a problem” and having the words come out of Apollo 13 commander James Lovell’s mouth).
Much later, a NASA accident investigation board determined wires were exposed in the oxygen tank because of a combination of manufacturing and testing errors before flight. That fateful night, a spark from an exposed wire in the oxygen tank caused a fire, ripping apart one oxygen tank and damaging another inside the spacecraft.
Since oxygen fed Odyssey’s fuel cells, power was reduced as well. The spacecraft’s attitude control thrusters, sensing the venting oxygen, tried to stabilize the spacecraft by firing small jets. The system wasn’t very successful given several of the jets were slammed shut by the explosion.
Fortunately for Apollo 13, the damaged Odyssey had a healthy backup: Aquarius, which wasn’t supposed to be turned on until the crew was close to landing on the moon. Haise and Lovell frantically worked to boot Aquarius up in less time than designed. Aquarius didn’t have a heat shield to survive the drop back to Earth, so as Lovell and Haise got the lunar module up and running, Swigert remained in Odyssey to shut down its systems to conserve power for splashdown.
Apollo 13’s cold, miserable trip home
The crew had to balance the challenge of getting home with the challenge of preserving power on Aquarius. After they performed a crucial burn to point the spacecraft back toward Earth, the crew powered down every nonessential system in the spacecraft.
Without a source of heat, cabin temperatures quickly dropped down close to freezing. Some food became inedible. The crew also rationed water to make sure Aquarius — operating for longer than it was designed — would have enough liquid to cool its hardware down. And Aquarius was pretty cramped as it was designed to hold two people, not three.
On Earth, flight director Gene Kranz pulled his shift of controllers off regular rotation to focus on managing consumables like water and power. Other mission control teams helped the crew with its daily activities. Spacecraft manufacturers worked around the clock to support NASA and the crew.
It was a rough journey home. The entire spaceflight crew lost weight, and Haise developed a kidney infection. But the small vessel protected and carried the crew long enough to reach Earth’s atmosphere.
In the hours before splashdown, the exhausted crew scrambled back over to the Odyssey and powered it up. The craft had essentially been in a cold water soak for days and could have shorted out, but thanks to safeguards put in place after the Apollo 1 disaster, there were no issues.
Lovell, Haise and Swigert safely splashed down in the Pacific Ocean near Samoa, on April 17.
I found this great site—15 facts—that lists 15 facts on a variety of subjects. Today’s 15 facts are about Thomas Jefferson (in honor of his birthday—born in 1743 and died July 4, 1826).
From 15funfacts.com:
He popularized macaroni and cheese in the United States. He famously brought a pasta machine back from France to satisfy his craving for the dish.
Thomas Jefferson died on July 4, 1826. Remarkably, this was the exact same day that his friend and rival John Adams passed away.
He kept pet mockingbirds in the White House. He loved the birds so much that he often let them fly freely around his office.
He sold his personal collection of 6,487 books to the government. This massive sale effectively restarted the Library of Congress after the British burned the original one.
Surprisingly, he was obsessed with finding living mastodons. He laid out giant fossil bones in the East Room of the White House for guests to see. He invented the swivel chair. He modified a regular chair with an iron spindle so he could rotate while he worked at his desk. Thomas Jefferson stood at a height of 6 feet 2 inches (1.89 meters). Therefore, he towered over most other men of his era. He wrote his own epitaph but left off his presidency. He wanted to be remembered as the author of the Declaration of Independence instead. He recorded the weather every single day of his adult life. Thus, historians have a perfect record of the temperature in Virginia for decades. He spent a fortune on wine. In fact, he once ordered 20,000 bottles from France for his personal cellar.
Thomas Jefferson reportedly broke his wrist while trying to impress a woman. He attempted to jump over a fence in Paris but fell awkwardly.
He wrote down the first known recipe for ice cream in America. Specifically, he created a vanilla custard version that became a favorite at his dinner parties.
He designed a “Great Clock” for his home at Monticello. The weights are so long they have to drop through holes in the floor.
Thomas Jefferson could read and write in six different languages. He mastered Greek, Latin, French, Italian, Spanish, and English.
Finally, he introduced the French fry to America. He served “potatoes fried in the raw” at a White House dinner in 1802.
No, that’s not a misspelling…LOL. Here’s, according to TRAC, the origin of the IRS—the agency we all hate.
From TRAC:
One of the first actions of any new nation is to collect taxes. This was true for the United States when in March of 1791, shortly after George Washington became president, the brand new Congress approved a law establishing a tariff system on selected imports and an internal excise tax on whiskey. In the next year, under the authority of that law, Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton established the Office of the Commissioner of Revenue, the predecessor to what is today the Internal Revenue Service.
Washington’s tax shortly led to the new nation’s first serious tax protest movement — the Whiskey Rebellion of 1793-1795 that required the dispatch of a ragtag army of about 13,000 federalized state militiamen to suppress.
The Civil War, and the Union’s insatiable demand for revenue, led to the re-creation of the Office of the Commissioner of Revenue, that by 1863 included about 4,000 tax collectors. Federal tax collections soared — from $28.5 million the year before the war to more than $300 million towards its end. One measure helping swell the revenues was the establishment of the nation’s first income tax which was sufficiently complex that eight years after Lincoln’s assassination it was discovered that in 1864, the then-president had overpaid his taxes by $1,250.
The end of the civil war led to the end of that era’s income tax. But in 1894, under heavy political pressure from the populists, Congress approved a modest new income tax. The Supreme Court immediately declared the tax unconstitutional. But broad political pressure for a more muscular federal government led to the ratification of the constitution’s Sixteenth Amendment on February 13, 1913: “The Congress shall have the power to lay and collect taxes on incomes, from whatever source derived, without apportionment among the several states, and without regard to any census or enumeration.”
The creation of the Office of the Commissioner of Revenue in 1862, followed in 1913 by the permanent establishment of the income tax, are two of the three legs that support today’s federal tax system. The third leg came in the middle of World War II when Congress approved a law requiring employees to withhold from salaries and wages the taxes owed by their employees.
Following the war, the IRS was engulfed in a massive corruption scandal that touched almost every level of the agency. After extensive Congressional hearings, the IRS underwent a basic re-organization while at the same time, installing what was then considered one of the most advanced computerized management systems in the world.
In the mid-1990s, the overall performance of the IRS — particularly the way it dealt with individual taxpayers — again became the subject of widespread public concern. The concern led to the formation of a special IRS study commission, a series of oversight hearing by the Senate Finance Committee and the passage by Congress of the IRS Restructuring and Reform Act of 1998. This law authorized a major spending program to improve the agency’s computers.
Just as significant was a basic change in the IRS’s structure. For many decades, the agency had been divided into scores of different districts along geographical lines. Most taxpayers — individual, business, farm, corporation and tax exempt — were processed by the districts where they were located. The 1998 law called for the elimination of this basic geographical system and its replacement by four functional units. In theory, one unit would deal with wage and investment returns filed by individual taxpayers, a second with the returns of small businesses and the self-employed, a third with those of large and mid-sized businesses and the fourth with tax exempt organizations.
In May of 2003, the Senate confirmed the nomination of Mark W. Everson as the 46th commissioner of the IRS. Everson, a Texas business executive who had held several senior positions in the Reagan and Bush Administrations, took over from Charles O. Rossotti.
Reflecting in part the changes that had occurred in the nation’s economic and political situations, the initial vision of the two men about the role of IRS agency was quite different. Rossotti — appointed in the wake of a series of sharply critical Senate hearings and in a boom period when budget deficits were melting — had sought to lead the agency away from its heavy emphasis on enforcement to a more balanced policy where enforcement would be complemented with a systematic effort to make the IRS more hospitable to the taxpayer. The basic idea was that by if it was easier for taxpayers to meet their obligations, that voluntary compliance would significantly improve. Rossotti, however, also argued that enforcement must be an essential component of the government’s tax collection strategy. Just before his 2002 retirement, for example, he said the government would need a massive increase in new employees — 35,000 of them — just to pursue the tax cases it was aware of.
Neither Congress, the outgoing Clinton team nor the Bush Administration were prepared to seriously consider Rossotti’s warning. The dramatic decline in the nation’s economy and the resulting surge in federal budget deficits, however, was a looming reality that demanded some kind of response. (The billions of additional dollars required for homeland security and the war in Iraq may have further contributed to the pressures on the IRS).
So, almost from the first day of Everson’s five-year term, his official statements have reflected the belief that tougher enforcement was required to recover the “many billions of dollars of lost tax revenues.” “We are correcting our course and re-centering the agency,” he told an audience at the National Press Club on March 15, repeating earlier calls for action. The commissioner then outlined his priorities, starting with a a focused attack on the corporations and high income taxpayers who did not abide by the law.
As Everson’s first year in office drew to a close, however, neither the Bush Administration who had appointed him nor Congress had so far seen fit to provide the IRS the substantial boost in financial resources that many experts — in and out of the government — believe the IRS must receive to effectively and fairly enforce the nation.
During the early spring of 1863 in Richmond, Virginia—the capital of the Confederacy—thousands of working-class Southern women were struggling as their husbands were either off fighting the Civil War or had died in battle. Then, hyperinflation from spending and a weak Confederate currency drove the prices of food and other goods way up, and families started to go hungry.
The nation had convulsed in division and the lives and futures of America’s enslaved hung in the balance, but frustration also simmered among white people within the Confederacy. Seething class resentment was building among working-class white women at the seemingly fruitless sacrifices they were making. Wealthy, families who owned several enslaved people weren’t affected as much by conscription and the economic struggles. By the beginning of April, it reached a boiling point, leading to one of the largest civilian uprisings during the Civil War. The Richmond Bread Riot became one of several throughout the South led by women.
“They had as many reasons to be mad as possible,” says Edward L. Ayers, a Civil War historian with the University of Richmond and founding chair of the board of the American Civil War Museum in Richmond.
“Not only are they losing their husbands, but they are losing them for a cause that doesn’t seem to offer any award for them,” says Ayers, Tucker-Boatwright Professor of the Humanities.
Richmond Leaders ‘Alarmed’ by Women’s Actions
The women had tried demanding help from the government—to no avail. In fact, the government had recently made things worse with the March 26, 1863 passage of the Impressment Act, which empowered Confederate forces to seize food and other supplies as needed in the field. So, on April 2, the Thursday of Easter week in 1863, hundreds of women (and some men) took to the streets of Richmond and attacked and raided businesses.
Gregg D. Kimball, director of public services and outreach for the Library of Virginia, says that Richmond leaders were alarmed by the women’s actions, and did their best to downplay it and condemn the rioters. Many said the participants “are from the dregs of society.”
“For women to do something this provocative in Southern society was not something that was looked upon positively,” Kimball says. “It went against this whole notion of the Southern woman that was constructed.”
The Bread Riot Ringleaders
History records two main women who planned and instigated the protest: Mary Jackson and Minerva Meredith. Jackson was a 34-year-old mother of four and a huckster who worked in the Richmond open market selling groceries, and loudly complaining about rising food prices to anyone who would listen. Little is known about Meredith, but she had a reputation of being very tall with a robust, and somewhat imposing presence, Kimball says.
Jackson and Meredith initially met with a small group of women on April 1 at Belvidere Hill Baptist Church. They resolved to meet at Capitol Square the next morning and demand to speak to Virginia Governor John Letcher, and word spread. On April 2, Jackson and Meredith and a group of as many as 200 to 300 women went to the George Washington Equestrian Statue, erected in 1857.
The leaders demanded to the governor’s aide that they speak to Letcher. There are some conflicting accounts: Some say the governor refused to see them, while others say he did speak to the women.
Regardless, the women were displeased with the governor’s dismissive attitude and unwillingness to help them. The protesters, many armed with knives and pistols, stormed off down Richmond’s 9th Street, crying out: “We celebrate our right to live! We are starving! Bread or blood!”
They marched along the cobblestones of 9th Street right by the capitol building, both of Virginia and the Confederacy itself. As onlookers watched the march, hundreds joined in. Some men also joined, most likely as opportunistic looters for merchants like jewelry stores rather than crusaders for hungry families, Kimball and Ayers say.
The rioters—at least 400 to 500 of them, by estimates—plundered warehouses where bacon and flour and other foods were stored, along with grocers and other stores. The Bread Riot name reflects stealing flour for baking bread more than stealing loaves of bread, Ayers explains. The word “bread” served as a general word for food.
Although some injuries were reported, nobody was killed during the incident, which was more like a mass looting and protest than a violent riot. The mayhem lasted about two hours, during which both Gov. Letcher and Confederate President Jefferson Davis reportedly went out to the streets to tell the rioters to stop. Richmond Mayor Joseph Mayo read the protesters the Riot Act—a British edict for stopping insurgents that the American government adopted in the Militia Act of 1792, and individual states personalized. Law enforcement then came in to squelch the riot.
Aftermath of the Riot
Many participants later were brought to trial and charged with crimes for their rioting, but fewer than 100 were punished, Kimball says. A lot of the older and poorer women were convicted, but younger, better-dressed women were not.
Douglas O. Tice Jr., author of The Richmond Bread Riot: Women at War, says there are many conflicting accounts about details, and like war battles, it’s not likely any one person witnessed the whole thing. But the Richmond Bread Riot got women noticed, and the effects were lasting.
“Women, up until this event, were basically ignored as far as their needs and desires were concerned,” Tice says. “This was a desperate act, which took great courage and stamina to put in place. It was an enormous act to acquire the very basics for their struggling families and in doing so gave them some attention into the gravity of their circumstances. … They stood up for once and were noticed.”
On January 31, 1930, the 3M Company (then going by the name of Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing) revealed Scotch Tape. This product, consisting of clear cellophane tape with a pressure-sensitive adhesive on one side, would become a household and office necessity.
Digging Deeper
3M has since ridden the success of Scotch Tape to produce many products bearing the Scotch brand that have nothing to do with the original product, one example being the stain repellent Scotchguard. 3M first began advertising with the familiar tartan plaid (Wallace type) in 1945. Today, many manufacturers produce adhesive tape, but most folks generically call these products “Scotch Tape” as well. (Same as the Kleenex phenomenon.)
Pressure-sensitive or adhesive tape was invented by a surgeon in 1845, presumably for medical applications. Since then, all sorts of material have been used as tape, with just as many types of adhesive. These include: medical adhesive tape which comes in both cloth and plastic varieties; package-sealing tape; metal tape, iron-on hem tape; electrical tape; friction tape; sports grip tape; and, of course, the greatest friend of men everywhere, duct tape, which men use to fix EVERYTHING!
Some types of tape have to be moistened for the adhesive to work, while other types have to be heated. Some types come with a layer over the sticky side that must be peeled off before use. There are even double-sided sticky tapes for a variety of uses.
A simple roll of electrical tape, or insulating tape, in your glove compartment, tool box, tackle box, kitchen drawer or pocket can save a life as a temporary wound binder, can temporarily fix a leaky pipe or hose, can be used to make emergency repairs on clothing (especially raincoats), can get you at least double the life out of a wornout baseball and can be used for a million other vital things, including its primary use as an insulator for electrical wiring. Same thing goes for duct tape which is probably the greatest auto body repair product ever made! (On a budget, anyway…)
Not only is Scotch Tape handy for taping pieces of paper together, it makes a dandy light-duty lamination material for preserving clippings or small photos; and it can be used for posting toddler art on the fridge, labeling things, removing pet hair and lint from clothing and for all sorts of arts and crafts. Available in numerous varieties, one of the most popular ones is the “invisible” type that seems to disappear when pressed firmly onto paper or an object.
It is hard to imagine what modern life would be like without all these types of tape, especially Scotch Tape, the king of them all.
On his birthday, I present, from History.com, surprising facts about Benjamin Franklin.
He only had two years of formal education.
The man considered the most brilliant American of his age rarely saw the inside of a classroom. Franklin spent just two years attending Boston Latin School and a private academy before joining the family candle and soap-making business. By age 12, he was serving as an indentured apprentice at a printing shop owned by his brother, James. Young Benjamin made up for his lack of schooling by spending what little money he earned on books, often going without food to afford new volumes. He also honed his composition skills by reading essays and articles and then rewriting them from memory. Despite being almost entirely self-taught, Franklin later helped found the school that became the University of Pennsylvania and received honorary degrees from Harvard, Yale, the College of William and Mary, the University of St. Andrews and Oxford.
Franklin became a hit writer as a teenager.
After his brother James founded a weekly newspaper called the New England Courant in the 1720s, a 16-year-old Franklin began secretly submitting essays and commentary as “Silence Dogood,” a fictitious widow who offered homespun musings on everything from fashion and marriage to women’s rights and religion. The letters were hugely popular, and Mrs. Dogood soon received several marriage proposals from eligible bachelors in Boston. Franklin penned 14 Dogood essays before unmasking himself as their author, much to his jealous brother’s chagrin. Sick of the toil and beatings he endured as James’ apprentice, the teenaged sensation then fled Boston the following year and settled in Philadelphia, the city that would remain his adopted hometown for the rest of his life.
He spent half his life in unofficial retirement.
Franklin arrived in Philadelphia in 1723 practically penniless, but over the next two decades he became enormously wealthy as a print shop owner, land speculator and publisher of the popular “Poor Richard’s Almanack.” By 1748, the 42-year-old was rich enough to hang up his printer’s apron and become a “gentleman of leisure.” Franklin’s retirement allowed him to spend his remaining 42 years studying science and devising inventions such as the lightning rod, bifocal glasses and a more efficient heating stove. It also gave him the freedom to devote himself to public service. Despite never running for elected office, he served as a delegate to the Continental Congress and the Constitutional Convention, diplomat and ambassador to France and Sweden, the first postmaster general and the president of the Supreme Executive Council of Pennsylvania.
Franklin designed a musical instrument used by Mozart and Beethoven.
Among Franklin’s more unusual inventions is his “glass armonica,” an instrument designed to replicate the otherworldly sound that a wet finger makes when rubbed along the rim of a glass. He made his first prototype in 1761 by having a London glassmaker build him 37 glass orbs of different sizes and pitches, which he then mounted on a spindle controlled by a foot pedal. To play the instrument, the user would simply wet their fingers, rotate the apparatus and then touch the glass pieces to create individual tones or melodies. The armonica would go on to amass a considerable following during the 18th and early 19th centuries. Thousands were manufactured, and the likes of Mozart, Beethoven and Strauss all composed music for it. Franklin would later write that “Of all my inventions, the glass armonica has given me the greatest personal satisfaction.”
He was a reluctant revolutionary.
Franklin was among the last of the Founding Fathers to come out in favor of full separation from Britain. Having lived in London for several years and held royal appointments, he instead pushed for peaceful compromise and the preservation of the empire, once writing that, “every encroachment on rights is not worth a rebellion.” When the Boston Tea Party took place in 1773, he dubbed it an “act of violent injustice on our part” and insisted that the East India Company should be compensated for its losses. Franklin had soured on the monarchy by the time he returned to the United States for the Second Continental Congress in 1775, but his past support for King George III earned him the suspicion of many of his fellow patriots. Before he publicly announced his support for American independence, a few even suspected he might be a British spy.
Franklin created a phonetic alphabet.
While living in London in 1768, Franklin embarked on a project “to give the alphabet a more natural order.” Annoyed by the many inconsistencies in English spelling, he devised his own phonetic system that ditched the redundant consonants C, J, Q, W, X and Y and added six new letters, each designed to represent its own specific vocal sound. Franklin unveiled his “Scheme for a new Alphabet and a Reformed Mode of Spelling” in an essay published in 1779, but later scrapped the project after it failed to arouse public interest.
His son was a British loyalist.
Along with the two children he had with his wife, Deborah Read, Franklin also fathered an illegitimate son named William around 1730. The two were once close friends and partners—William helped Franklin with his famous kite experiment—but they later had a major falling out over the American Revolution. While Franklin joined in calling for independence from the mother country, William remained a staunch Tory who branded the patriots “intemperate zealots” and refused to resign his post as the royal governor of New Jersey. He spent two years in a colonial prison for opposing the revolution and later became a leader in a loyalist group before moving to England at the end of the war. The elder Franklin never forgave his son for “taking up arms against me.” He all but cut William out of his will, arguing, “the part he acted against me in the late war…will account for my leaving him no more of an estate he endeavored to deprive me of.”
Franklin was a fashion icon in France.
In 1776, the Continental Congress sent Franklin to France to seek military aid for the revolution. The 70-year-old was already world-renowned for his lighting experiments—the French even called their electrical experimenters “Franklinistes”—but his fame soared to new heights after his arrival in Paris. Franklin capitalized on the French conception of Americans as rustic frontiersmen by dressing plainly and wearing a fur hat, which soon became his trademark and appeared in countless French portraits and medallions. Women even took to imitating the cap with oversized wigs in a style called “coiffure a la Franklin.” When Franklin later traded the fur cap for a white hat during the signing of the 1778 treaty between France and the United States, white-colored headgear instantly became a fashion trend among the men of Paris.
He spent his later years as an abolitionist.
Franklin owned at least two slaves during his life, both of whom worked as household servants, but in his old age, he came to view slavery as a vile institution that ran counter to the principles of the American Revolution. He took over as president of a Pennsylvania abolitionist society in 1787, and in 1790 he presented a petition to Congress urging it to grant liberty “to those unhappy men who alone in this land of freedom are degraded into perpetual bondage.” While the petition was ignored, Franklin kept up the fight until his death a few months later and even included a provision in his will that required his daughter and son-in-law to free their slave to get their inheritance.
Franklin left Boston and Philadelphia an unusual gift in his will.
When he died in April 1790, Franklin willed 2,000 pounds sterling to his birthplace of Boston and his adopted home of Philadelphia. The largesse came with an unusual caveat: for its first 100 years, the money was to be placed in a trust and only used to provide loans to local tradesmen. A portion could then be spent, but the rest would remain off-limits for another 100 years, at which point the cities could use it as they saw fit. Boston and Philadelphia followed Franklin’s wishes, and by 1990 their funds were worth $4.5 million and $2 million, respectively. The two towns have since used the windfall to help finance the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia and the Benjamin Franklin Institute of Technology in Boston. Philadelphia also put some of its funds toward scholarships for students attending trade schools.
He’s a member of the International Swimming Hall of Fame.
Franklin had a lifelong love of swimming that began during his childhood in Boston. One of his first inventions was a pair of wooden hand paddles that he used to propel himself through the Charles River, and he wrote of once using a kite to skim across a pond. While living in England in the 1760s, he displayed such an impressive array of swimming strokes during a dip in Thames that a friend offered to help him open his own swimming school. Franklin declined the offer, but he remained a proponent of swimming instruction for the rest of his life, once writing, “every parent would be glad to have their children skilled in swimming.” His aquatic exploits have since earned him an honorary induction into the International Swimming Hall of Fame.