Review of Beyond Control: The Mississippi River’s New Channel to the Gulf of Mexico, by James F. Barnett, Jr.

The Mississippi River has been flowing through the North American continent for hundreds of thousands of years, periodically overflowing its banks and changing its course at will and creating one of the largest and most unique waterway corridors in the world in the process. That people have attempted, much less temporarily conquered, the mighty river is one of the most impressive feats in all of human engineering. Thousands of miles of levees, dams, spillways, diversion canals, and other structures have been placed along the rivers’ course over the centuries in an effort to keep the ever-changing stream in its current channel. That man’s mastery of the river is indeed temporary was graphically revealed in a near-calamitous incident in 1973 which almost resulted in the river radically changing its course and leaving New Orleans high and dry. Capturing the story of that little-known event and placing it in the context of the ongoing fight to control the Mississippi is James F. Barnett, Jr. with Beyond Control: The Mississippi River’s New Channel to the Gulf of Mexico.

Barnett’s book, which I listened to recently to in audiobook form, takes on an inherently scientific topic and attempts to tell it in story form. Despite his best efforts there are many dull sections where phrases such as “cubic feet of water,” “hydrology,” and a range of other technical terms fill the pages. All this is context and prelude to how and why the Mississippi nearly did what it has been doing for thousands of years and almost certainly will do again despite our best efforts during a period of high water in 1973—change its course. The story of the river’s persistent attempts to take a more direct route to the Gulf of Mexico is the event around which the entire book is based, and Barnett tells it in clear and understandable fashion.

The saga centers on the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Control Complex at Old River, which, in a nutshell, prevents the river from diverting itself into the Atchafalaya Basin. As Barnett explains in remarkably clear language, such an occurrence is a natural part of the river’s life cycle, as the silted-in main channel eventually overflows into a lower, steeper channel over time. These changes have happened hundreds of times over the centuries, leaving behind the tangle of oxbows that define the lower Mississippi Valley. But humans have been attempting to intervene in this natural process ever since New Orleans became one of America’s primary commercial hubs. Its port, and the settlements and farms along the river’s course above it, have only become more vital to the U.S. economy over the years, and engineers have been fighting a war with the Mississippi for determination of its course for well over a century. They managed to tame the worst of the effects of the river’s periodic floods, and thus far have successfully shackled the river to its early twentieth century course along its lower reaches.

All that nearly went out the window when the river scoured a hole beneath the main structure at the Control Complex and engineers were forced to helplessly watch to see if the river made the fateful change in course. It was an hour-by-hour drama with enormous financial stakes for the lower river region and the nation at large. Few realize just how close to disaster the region came, and how tenuous remains our control of the river today. Barnett’s book is revelatory for those with an interest in the lower Mississippi River region and a story well told given the circumstances. It is difficult if not impossible, to make such a technical story engrossing as a traditional historical narrative. The book is important, but will no doubt have a rather narrow appeal to historians due to the semi-scientific nature of the subject.

JMB

Review of One Morning in Sarajevo, 1914: The Assassination that Changed the World, by James David Smith

Perhaps the most consequential event in the twentieth  century was the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria-Hungary. His death in 1914 set off events that led to World War I, the eventual second World War, and constant ethnic struggles and atrocities in the Balkans. Author James David Smith chronicles the conspirators, the gruesome killing, and its aftermath in One Morning in Sarajevo, 1914: The Assassination that Changed the World.

This complex story has always been overshadowed by the haunting images of the archduke and his wife boarding their car in Sarajevo prior to the shooting and the sullen images of assassin Gavrilo Princip as well as legends of the mysterious Black Hand organization which orchestrated the entire affair. Longtime British journalist Smith paints a different picture. Princip was one of a few young Serbians living under the yoke of the Hapsburg Empire who dreamed of a unified nation for Slavs and believed killing the heir apparent to the Austrian-Hungarian throne would topple that empire and lead to their dreams coming true.  Smith paints Princip and others as thoughtful, lower class young adults, “a small group of the misled,” who voraciously read news and history and dreamt of a better future for themselves and their people. When news became known of Ferdinand’s visit to Sarajevo, they made the decision to kill him. Smith provides details on all the men’s backgrounds and thoughts, their planning and journey to Belgrade to acquire guns and bombs for the affair, and their harrowing return trip when they tried to avoid authorities.

The book builds in intensity until reaching the chapter entitled “June 1914 – on the Avenue of Assassins.” Smith places the conspirators in their positions and details the Archduke’s journey through the city.  After a failed assassination attempt using with a bomb, many tried to convince the royal party to discontinue their tour as there were fears of such an event in the first place, but the Archduke continued. Eventually, their car took a wrong turn, bringing the unfortunate royal couple right up to where Princip was waiting. Princip should have never gotten the opportunity, but fate intervened, and he fired two shots and altered the course of history. As we all learned in school, events spiraled quickly out of control. Within a month, Austria declared war on Serbia and decades of entangling alliances soon brought all of Europe to war.

Authorities moved quickly to gather those linked to the heinous crime and twenty-five  eventually stood trial the following October. Smith delves into the trial and reports on all the contradicting information that defined the proceedings. Austria really wanted to make the connection with the Serbian government but the connection to Serbian officials and the mysterious Black Hand was thin. In the end, nine defendants were acquitted, three were sentenced to hang and the others were given prison sentences. Princip and many others were initially saved as Austrian law prevented those under the age of twenty from being executed. Princip would later die in prison of tuberculous in 1918.

Smith builds off the monumental study by Vladamir Dedijer (The Road to Sarajevo, published in 1967) with access to more material, including complete transcripts of the trial, that has since become available. It is a highly detailed study and is very intriguing although one must admit difficulties following the action when dealing with so many actors with unfamiliar names and difficult spellings. The entire book leaves the reader with a feeling of sadness, whether it was over the senseless death of the Archduke and his wife or for these young, impressionistic young men or those who got caught up in the affair not knowing its true implications. Smith calls the main plotters a “loosely bound group of ascetic, devoted, single-minded young men [who] hoped to be remembered for their heroic sacrifice. They had planned to die, destroying an empire and creating a nation.”  Ironically enough, Yugoslavia would be established in 1929, but its existence would be marked by horrible ethnic struggles culminating in the late 1990s. One must also believe that none of the players would have guessed their actions would lead to the fall of several empires and the deaths of millions. Anyone interested in World War One’s tragic beginnings with this assassination should read this book.

CPW

Review of The Rise and Decline of the Redneck Riviera: An Insider’s History of the Florida-Alabama Coast, by Harvey H. Jackson, III

Anyone who has ever spent any time along the coast of Alabama and Florida panhandle knows that this vacation destination is defined by both the best and the worst of what nature and the tourism industry can provide. Scenic views of picturesque beaches and some of the most beautiful waters on the Gulf Coast are periodically marred by blistering heat, torrential downpours, and threats of savage hurricanes. Serene afternoons spent enjoying the sea breeze and listening to the waves happen in the shadow of towering condominiums that have transformed once-scenic coastal roads into canyons of development and sprawl. Delicious fresh-catch seafood is served up in iconic establishments sitting alongside kitschy souvenir shops specializing in tacky gifts. Those across the Deep South and beyond nevertheless love “the beach” and set vacation calendars around the coveted opportunity for a few days of sun, sand, and fried seafood in the area and enjoy it for what it is and is not. To the modern visitor it can seem as if this is the way it has always been, a glittering series of accommodations and entertainment crowded along the sandy shores of the Gulf. The fact that the region, the self-proclaimed “Redneck Riviera” to those who know it best, is a relatively new phenomenon with rather shallow roots as a community may come as a surprise to some. Its relative youth is revealed to the historian by the fact that, as a distinct region, it has one of the thinnest historiographies of any area of the South.

Harvey Jackson, one of Alabama’s most respected historians, turned his attention to chronicling this coastal region as a unique place unto itself a decade ago with The Rise and Decline of the Redneck Riviera. A now retired professor at Jacksonville State University and a lifelong frequent visitor to and part-time resident of “the beach,” Jackson is uniquely qualified to chronicle the region’s past from the vantage point of both a scholar and an insider. The book is a testament to his abilities on both counts, featuring as it does an impressive command of sources revealing the major events which have defined the area’s startling development in recent decades to his intimate knowledge of how what is there today came about and how what once was disappeared. I recently had a chance to listen to an audiobook version of the title.

The book follows the development of the beach region from a primitive backwater with few amenities that, in the days prior to air conditioning, was little more than the seasonal haunt of fishermen and the occasional gathering place of primarily Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, and Florida working class families to the modern tourist hub it has become since the 1980s. Jackson brings to life some of the early landmark mom-and-pop establishments around which beach attractions sprang up in the post-World War II era and chronicles in detail the rather sudden rise of the multi-story accommodation complexes which shut them all down. Along the way he studies how spring break became a right of passage for American teens and a cash cow for local business owners, and how the excesses of those teens turned loose on vacation (the sordid saga of “Girls Gone Wild” in Panama City is explored among others) brought sometimes unwanted national attention to the beaches and a reevaluation of what tourism niche they fit that is still in some ways ongoing.

Jackson explores the impact of the numerous real estate ventures which, as much as anything, transformed the look and feel of beach communities including Panama City, Destin, Gulf Shores, and Orange Beach. He also helps frame all this within the context of the transformative hurricanes which have periodically swept away the region’s existing built environments and launched the beginning of new ones. The book is a history of a place with a focus on how and why it stands today as it is, and naturally cannot be complete without some exploration into its troubled natural history. This includes the aforementioned hurricanes and the way their yearly threat hangs over life in the region to the infamous oil spill in 2010 and the way it highlighted the fragile nature of the environment that people so desire to immerse themselves in on their beach vacations. Readers follow this story through both an analysis of the economic and environmental devastation of the oil spill and the wave of federal regulations concerning the habitats of creatures such as sea turtles and beach mice which aroused so much angst all along the Gulf Coast at one time.

In Jackson’s earthy, humorous but insightful writing style, The Rise and Decline of the Redneck Riviera lays out how and why a long-ignored and sparsely populated region which barely figured into Southern history for hundreds of years in just a few decades of booming twentieth-century development emerged as a modern tourism colossus. In an easy-flowing narrative, Jackson paints an approachable portrait of a place he genuinely loves. The book is a mix of scholarly analysis and nostalgia which treats with equal sincerity the stories of real estate speculation, disputes over property rights, natural disasters, unrestrained teenagers, and how unorthodox traditions such as the tossing of dead mullet along the Alabama-Florida state line have combined. In the end, he demonstrates that in some ways, the true sense of place of “the beach” is rooted more in a state of mind than any physical location. The book is worth the time if you have an interest in the stories that lie in the shadow of all those condominiums.

JMB