"Frederick Douglass's American Founding," Dennis Rasmussen

 A quote often misattributed to Albert Einstein has applicability: “The measure of intelligence is the ability to change.” Too often, we are rigid in our beliefs, even as we despair of those with equal rigidity for opposing beliefs. In this book, the reader is witness to one of the most brilliant minds of the 19^thCentury undergo change.

 

Sydney M. Williams

 

Burrowing into Books

Frederick Douglass’s American Founding, Dennis Rasmussen

October 31, 2026

 

“Opinion shapers create the horizon within which politicians are able to act.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Dennis Rasmussen (1978-)

                                                                                                                                                                                                                               Frederick Douglass’s American Founding, 2026

 

Frederick Douglass, born a slave on Maryland’s Eastern Shore in 1818, was a forceful speaker, a brilliant writer, and an advocate for abolition and social reform from 1838 until his death in 1895. The author of this short (170 pages of text and 24 pages of notes) assumes the reader has some knowledge of Douglass. Dennis Rasmussen’s, a professor of history at Syracuse University, purpose is to examine Douglass’s change of opinion regarding the Constitution. This he does.

 

In 1840, Douglass, who had taught himself to read while a child and who had escaped slavery at age twenty, came under the influence of William Lloyd Garrison and Wendell Phillips in Boston. Both were abolitionists who believed the Constitution protected and promoted slavery. Douglass accepted their interpretation. In May he published his first book, Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave, Written by Himself. He then spent two years in Great Britain, speaking against slavery in the United States. He later wrote: “Whilst America asserted the doctrine that everyone was born equal, he would denounce her hypocrisy.”

 

He wrote and spoke of the four clauses he felt promoted slavery: the 3/5 Clause, the Slave Trade Clause, the Fugitive Slave Clause, and the Suppressing National Domestic Violence Clause. Abolitionists were divided regarding the Constitution. On one side were those who felt it was pro-slavery – men like Garrison and Phillips (who, ironically, were joined by southern slave owners who believed the Constitution justified their practice). On the other side were Abolitionists like William Goodell, Lysander Spooner and Gerit Smith who saw it as a document for liberty – that it should be read for its words, what it says, not for what it does not say. And there those like Lincoln, in the years before the Civil War, who believed that the Constitution was neither pro-slavery nor anti-slavery. 

 

Around 1850, Douglass came under the influence of Goodell, Spooner and Smith, and he began to read the Constitution more carefully. On July 5, 1852 he delivered one of his best-known speeches: “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?” It was, as Rasmussen writes “a devastating critique of America, but it is not a critique of America’s founding. “Far from regarding the founding and the founders as the source of the problem, as he once had, Douglass now saw them as a resource that could be used to remedy the problem.” 

 

All the clauses that he had once said supported slavery he now read as explaining why the Constitution was the “very vehicle for abolition.” The Nation needed not new principles, but a more rigorous adherence to those laid out in the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. 

 

In their 1983 book Without Me You’re Nothing, authors Frank Herbert and Max Bernard wrote: “We define intelligence as the ability to adapt to change.” It is rare when we witness an individual with the intellectual abilities of Federick Douglass change his mind on so important a matter. Professor Rasmussen has done an admirable job.

"Trump Redux"

 The photo is from the October 12 edition of The Spectator World.

If Democrats and Republicans offered sensible alternatives, choices would be easier for those like me. But we live in the world as it is, not as we would wish it to be.

 

Sydney M. Williams

 

Thought of the Day

“Trump Redux”

October 30, 2026

 

“The unanswered riddle of Trump redux seems to be what combination of the belligerent and the

pacific in his political programme and personal make-up will find expression in his foreign policy.” 

                                                             John Harper

                                                            “American Isolationism and the Riddle of Trump Redux”

                                                             Survival: Global Politics and Strategy, 07/02/2025

 

Two years into Mr. Trump’s second term, confusion and chaos reign where I had hopes clarity and order might rule. While tariffs have always existed, they have become more controversial, especially when applied to neighbors like Canada and Mexico. Iran has long threatened Israel, the United States and western nations, but the war against them lingers. Talking is almost always better than fighting, but if the President, Mr. Putin and Mr. Xi meet at the APEC summit in Shenzhen, China next month, and they carve up the world, the United States will become an accessory to our enemies and even more of an unreliable ally to our friends in the Pacific and Europe.

 

Politics at home have become ugly. Mr. Trump is loose with his language, but the Socialist policies of Democrats on the far left – those that seem to be in ascendancy – would sink our economy and markets. Corruption permeates both parties. Bernie Sanders, an avowed Socialist (and politician since age 40) has an estimated net worth two and a half times that of the constituents he represents in Vermont. It is doubtful that he made any money in the private sector, as his jobs before he became the Mayor of Burlington in 1981 included carpentry, psychiatric aide and teacher. While President Trump, according to Forbes, lost about a billion dollars during his first term, he has more than made up for it in his second term. NPR (admittedly a biased source) puts his gain thus far at $2.7 billion. Contrast the accumulated wealth of Clinton and Obama to Truman.

 

With the exception of John McCain’s bid for the Presidency in 2008, I have been unhappy about our choices for President thus far in the 21^st century. I had hopes that Mr. Obama might heal persistent racial divisions, but instead he widened them. I voted for Mitt Romney in 2012 but perfunctorily. I voted for Mr. Trump in 2016 against the spiteful Hillary Clinton but without enthusiasm. In 2020, President Trump, who I felt had done well (except for his initial handling of Covid), got my nod against a mentally diminished Mr. Biden. And in 2024, with President Biden’s failing mental faculties becoming more obvious and an unhinged Ms. Harris replacing him, I saw no choice but to pull the lever for Mr. Trump a third time, even though disturbed by his January 6, 2021 antics.

 

Now, here we are, less than a week away from mid-term elections. Elections in the “deep blue state” of Connecticut are a Sisyphean task for Republicans. Both U.S. Senators and all five Representatives are Democrats. Both gubernatorial candidates for governor of Connecticut are from Greenwich, which does not seem to be representative of the state. But Ned Lamont is seeking a third term, while I believe governors should be limited to two terms. 

 

I believe the primary purpose of government is to protect citizens natural rights; to uphold a Lockean Social Contract where citizens give up certain rights for safety and stability, while allowing them to pursue their self-interests; and to provide a public education and the infrastructure necessary for individuals and private businesses to flourish. I believe that people are equal before the law and in their rights, but I recognize we are not equal in abilities – physical or mental – or in wants. I believe society should strive for equal opportunity yet we should not be blind to the elusiveness of that goal. Government assistance should be reserved for those truly unable to care for themselves, because of age, illness, infirmities or poverty. 

 

The country drifted after the defeat of Soviet Communism in December 1991. The United States found itself the sole super power in a disharmonious world. Yet a false belief that world peace was possible prevailed. The percent of the U.S. federal budget spent of defense fell from almost 24% in 1990 to less than 13% in 2024. (It is expected to rise to 18% in fiscal 2027). But history did not end and enemies to democracy did not disappear, as 9/11 demonstrated, and as Israel has always known. Dictators did not surrender. The nexus of China, Russia, Iran, North Korea and Cuba represent a more powerful adversary than did the old Soviet Union. Cyber threats are more likely than nuclear annihilation.

 

From what I have seen and read, Mr. Trump has no ideological beliefs. He prides himself as a deal maker. I doubt he has read either Adam Smith or Karl Marx. He is a disruptor. His antics and ill-manners upset many of our European allies. Yet those allies have responded by increasing defense budgets. On the other hand, their destructive social welfare system, lagging demographics, restrictive regulations, open borders (made worse by a failure to assimilate a growing migrant population) have resulted in civil unrest and anemic economic growth. 

 

Mr. Trump’s unpredictability can be a strength when dealing with the likes of Vladimir Putin or Xi Jinping, but his lack of social graces and respect for his opponents are off-putting in a world where steadfastness regarding principles is necessary, and compromise is essential to both domestic and foreign policy. His biggest failure is his unbridled egotism; one consequence is that his approval rankings are among the lowest for any modern president. Will those statistics be reflected in next week’s election? Mr. Trump is expected to campaign (or has campaigned) across 35 locations in the three weeks prior to election. He is not trying to convert independents or undecided voters; he is trying to ensure his believers actually go out and vote. Personally, I never respond to polls and I am suspicious of their accuracy; by next Wednesday we will know. 

 

I find myself in agreement with the conclusion of an essay by Christopher Caldwell in the October 12, 2026 issue of The Spectator World: “In contrast to his first term, which was craftily undermined by his Washington adversaries, Trump’s second term has been carelessly destroyed by his own flawed character.” Need one say more.

 

...........................................................................

 

Ideally, we need a leader with character – one who leads by example, is honest with the people, is self-deprecating and takes responsibility when things go wrong. We want an individual who restrains government spending, yet keeps us safe from enemies, while promoting personal and economic liberty. Is there such an individual?

"Being 'Bailey'"

 Dogs have been part of my life, since aged two when I crawled into ‘Rollo’s dog house. He was my grandmother’s Great Dane. At about 150 pounds, he was roughly six times my weight – me, a tasty morsel! While my parents were unnerved they knew they planned to have plenty more children, so weren’t overly concerned. At any rate, I escaped unharmed. As a child our dogs were, ‘George,’ an Irish Terrier and ‘Mopsa,’ an Irish Setter. Caroline and I had a total of five dogs – from ‘Susie,’ a Dachshund to ‘Dakota,’ mostly a Lab. Our children have (or have had) five dogs. While we no longer have a dog, we are happy that many of our neighbors do.   

 

 

Sydney M. Williams

 

More Essays from Essex

“Being ‘Bailey’”

October 24, 2026

 

“Now, I’m a mixer. I can’t help it. It’s my nature. I like men. I like the

taste of their boots, the smell of their legs, and the sound of their voices.”

                                                                                                                       P.G. Wodehouse (1881-1975)

                                                                                                                       “The Mixer”

                                                                                                                         The Man With Two Left Feet, 1917

 

To start, I was born a Beagle – or, more precisely, mostly Beagle; my heritage is a mystery. I come from Virginia’s Appalachian hills and was consigned to an animal shelter. Unexpectedly, at least to me, I gave birth to a litter before the age of one. It was a rough start.

 

But my luck changed when a young family in Greenwich, Connecticut adopted me; though I had to leave my offspring. The year was 2014, and the family had four children, aged five to twelve. Two cats resented my appearance. Once, when confronted by a hissing ‘Clover,’ I simply slipped away. The children and their parents, however, are wonderful, but Greenwich was a culture shock. Other dogs in the neighborhood looked down their snouts at my country accent. After a year or so of being snubbed, I prevailed upon the family to move to rural Connecticut. The town I chose was Lyme, which is where we now live. Here I chase squirrels, observe deer, and avoid the occasional coyote. While it isn’t western Virginia, neither is it suburban Greenwich. 

 

Most days I go for a walk, bringing with me whoever is available. In off-season I go to the beach, anywhere from Hammonasset to Watch Hill. If the weather is bad – and humans dislike being out in the rain, cold, or snow – I take them to the end of Ely’s Ferry Road, or perhaps a short walk on Smith Neck where the children’s grandparents once lived.

 

Now I am getting older – 14 next month. My hearing is going; my sight is not what it was, nor is my stamina, and the family still insists I use the outside loo. Nevertheless, except for the two cats, I remain content. I enjoy looking at the pictures of my cousin ‘Snoopy’ and thinking of the missed opportunity to go after the Fed Ex driver. And I do miss the four children who are working or in college, and I can never remember who is where. 

 

But I am thankful for my life. My eyes may look sad – and sometimes guilty – but I am not sad. Years ago, when a pup, I read Mark Twain’s Pudd’nhead Wilson, and I have always remembered his line: “If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and a man.” And that is a lesson I have followed.

 

So I spend more time on the sofa, and even – sometimes – invite whoever is around to join me. After all, next month I will be 98 in human years. Nevertheless, I am positive for the future. I look out the window, wonder about my pups and dream of past chases. I cherish the family that took me in, and I think of the Appalachian hills where my journey began so many years ago.

"Things We Think About at Night"

 

 

Sydney M. Williams

 

More Essays from Essex

“Things We Think About at Night”

October 20, 2026

 

“Night is purer than day; it is better for thinking, loving and

dreaming. At night everything is more intense, more true.”

Elie Wiesel (1928-2016)

Dawn, 1961

 

Like many of you, I sometimes lie awake at night, reliving past experiences, considering alternatives, even thinking of some episodes that should not be recalled in a family-friendly essay. I ponder questions that seem silly when the morning sun pours through the open window – silly even for someone like me who likes to contemplate unimportant questions. For example, I once found myself wondering if aristocracy was a necessary step in the evolution from the divine rights of kings to a democracy. 

 

Usually, though, my mind wanders to more mundane matters – to retorts I might have made had I been prepared. Or was I rude in the dining room the other night. Or things I should have said but did not; or something I did say when I should have kept quiet.

 

Once, upon returning from a trip to the loo, the clock read 2:37am. Interesting. Two was month my daughter was born, and seven the month my wife was born. Two times three is six, the month our youngest son was born, and two plus seven equal nine, the month our oldest arrived. I could even get to one, the month I was born, by multiplying two times three and subtracting it from seven. In fact, I realized, in a moment of rare illumination, I could arrive at the numbers for all twelve months by adding, subtracting or multiplying. Happy, I fell to sleep.

 

Waking in the night, I am reminded of lines from A.A. Milne in The House at Pooh Corner: “When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain and you Think of Things, you find that a Thing that seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it.” 

 

The other night I found myself in that trance-like state between awake and asleep. This time it was the English language and how difficult it is for non-natives. Some words like ‘there,’ ‘to’ and ‘four’ have at least three definitions, are spelt differently but sound the same. Could I put three definitions of each word into sentences? What would be the shortest sentence I could produce? My answers: “They’re there in their house,” “two is too old to pamper” and “four for the fore.” Upon waking, my Apple watch showed my sleep score to be low. If wasted brain power were measurable, I would be at the top of the list.

 

Those minutes before we fall asleep can feel like hours and they can be, as Mr. Wiesel wrote, intense. The absence of sound, sight, taste and odor magnify imagination and memory.  However, on rare occasions they can be productive, which is why I keep a pen and pad on my bedside table, praying that in the morning any words won’t be ‘Thingish.’

"My First Car...And a Lesson Learned"

 Some of the most important lessons we learn are quietly and thoughtfully offered with no fanfare. The key is, do they stay with us for the rest of our lives? This one has.

This is a short essay (about 280 words) of a minor incident that had a long-lasting impact on my life. The photo is one I downloaded from the internet of a ’47 Ford coupe, similar to the one my sister and I had. Sadly, I was unable to find a photo of our actual car.

 

 

Sydney M. Williams

 

More Essays from Essex

“My First Car...And a Lesson Learned”

October 17, 2026

 

“You’ll always remember your first car and the 

 memories that come with it — that sense of adventure!” 

                                                                                                                                             Paddy McGuinness (1973-)

                                                                                                                                             English comedian and actor

 

In late spring 1957 the local Ford dealership in Peterborough, NH, then owned by Milt Fontaine, had for sale a blue 1947 Ford four-door sedan. The price was $95.00 – above my budget. But splitting the cost with my older sister made the purchase possible.

 

While the back seat looked like Jack the Ripper had spent an afternoon locked inside, the engine ran smoothly, and it even had a radio – a necessity for teenagers in the mid-1950s. My sister named it the “Blue Bus,” as it became a means for conveying friends.

 

We lived four miles from the village, so the car provided independence – at least when it was my turn at the wheel. As I was in boarding school and my sister was in college in Boston, the “Blue Bus” was primarily a summer and holiday vehicle for the two years we had it. I used to enjoy driving the back roads, sometimes with friends but often alone – trying to add to what few skills I possessed.

 

One day at our local gas station, a man walked over, leaned into the driver’s side window. He spoke gently but gravely:

 

“I wouldn’t drive this car so fast on back roads.” He turned and walked back to his car.

 

Startled, I said nothing. I never learned his name. However, I have never forgotten what he said – wise words to a young, over-confident, but inexperienced young driver.

"The Boy Who Cried Wolf"

 I yearn for a Ronald Reagan-type figure to emerge from our political landscape. The idea of doing a deal with Putin that would satisfy a few days demand for diesel fuel, and at the same time bad-mouthing Mr. Zelensky who has done miracles for the people of Ukraine, strikes me as dangerous and the height of idiocy. And certainly I would never buy a watch stamped “Trump.” And the idea that we should make a martyr, through a public execution, of U.S. Army major Nidal Hasan, an Islamic terrorist who killed 13 people at Fort Hood in Texas seven years ago is unnecessarily provocative and just plain stupid.

 

What has happened to us, or, I should say to our political leaders. The loudest voices on the left are advocating a path toward Socialism. Are there any common-sensical politicians out there? 

 

Perhaps. I read with admiration Secretary of State Marco Rubio’s speech last Wednesday in Athens – a call for Western nations to reconnect with their civilizational and historical roots. I just hope his wisdom and decency prevail. If you have not read it, pull it up on the internet.

 

 

Sydney M. Williams

 

Thought of the Day

“The Boy Who Cried Wolf”

October 14, 2026

 

“The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populous alarmed (and hence clamorous

to be led to safety) by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary.”

                                                                                                                                    H.L. Mencken (1880-1956)

                                                                                                                                    In Defense of Women, 1918

 

Almost sixty years before Mencken wrote the line quoted above, Ralph Waldo Emerson, in his essay “Self-Reliance,” expressed similar concerns: “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines.” In his dystopian novels Animal Farm and 1984, George Orwell wrote of his misgivings for “groupthink” and “doublethink” – where the desire for group harmony overrides critical thinking and reasoned debate.

 

In last Tuesday’s The Wall Street Journal, Steven Koonin and Dr. Scott Atlas wrote analogously, in an op-ed titled “Covid, Climate and the ‘Consensus Trap:’” “We should neither be wholly distrustful of expertise nor subservient to it without critical challenge. We must institute safeguards that make expertise trustworthy: transparency about uncertainty, protection for those who test it, and real consequences when things go wrong.”

 

While Koonin and Atlas were writing of global warming scares, the 2008 credit crisis and Covid, they could have included the recent reaction of many, including mainstream media, politicians and some industry leaders to potential dangers stemming from AI. This is not to suggest that the planet is not in a warming cycle, that debt does not pose risks, that contagious respiratory diseases should be ignored, or that artificial intelligence cannot be used for nefarious purposes. Life is filled with risks, which must be carefully assessed. But sensible risk-taking is integral to a free society that seeks advancement. A police state promises security, but at a price no lover of freedom wants to pay. 

 

There are natural risks over which we have little control. Paleontologists tell us that during the Mesozoic Era (250 to 60 million years ago) the Earth’s temperature was ten to fourteen degrees warmer than it is today. During the peak of the last ice age (10,000 to 11,000 years ago), the temperature was ten to twelve degrees colder than today. Paleoclimatologists attribute those changes to small adjustments in the Earth’s orbit, the tilt on its axis, atmospheric greenhouse gasses, volcanic eruptions and ocean currents. However, these same people estimate that the Earth will survive another four to five billion years. Certainly, man has had an effect on the environment and the weather, but are his effects existential? When I note a ten degree upward (or downward) change in the outside temperature in 24 hours, I marvel at the power of nature – the energy required to warm (or cool) millions of cubic feet of the Earth’s atmosphere in a relatively short time. We face many challenges, but I doubt climate catastrophe is in our immediate future. 

 

The 2008 credit crisis was largely a consequence of political pressure to increase home ownership through government guaranteed loans, while encouraging rating agencies to make subprime mortgages appear safe to lenders. When the economy turned down jobs were lost and foreclosures increased. Yet no one – not politicians, Wall Street bankers, or homebuyers who took on more debt than they should have – assumed responsibility. Largely ignored today by both media and politicians is a real crisis – the size of the federal government’s debt and its entitlement obligations. 

 

Lockdowns of schools were seen as one answer to Covid, even as the lethality was largely centered on the elderly. The human cost can be seen in declines in student academic performance, but have we seen or heard any mea culpas?

 

Mencken was right. Alarming voters propels some politicians into seats of power. As well, such tactics enrich others. Artificial intelligence seems to be the latest target. We have been told that mankind could become extinct in a few years, that a billion people might die. What they mean – but what gets little press – is that a bad actor (a human) could gain control. That is true, as it would be if, for example, Iran got an atomic bomb, and as it was when Mohamed Atta took control of American Airlines Flight 11 on 9/11. Good and evil are not characteristics of weather, markets, pathogens or software. They are traits of humans. The technology already exists to shut down our banking system, close our power grid and interrupt air control. It is critical that we stay ahead of those individuals and nations who would do us harm. Regulation may be needed; for that reason President Trump appointed National Intelligence Director Jay Clayton, former Chair of the SEC, to serve as the Administration’s AI leader.

 

To the best of my knowledge there is no magic formula that erases evil from mankind. But the teaching of ethics is not a bad place to start. The Bible teaches that all humans have the capacity to do harm and good. Morality is not relative; it is universal, as the Ten Commandments make clear. Artificial Intelligence, in the wrong hands, makes easier the ability to cause harm, which is why it is imperative we, as a nation, stay in the lead in its development. Democracy may not be the perfect form of government and free-market capitalism may not be the most equitable economic system, but history shows that no better system has ever been devised.

 

The title of this essay comes from Aesop Fables. Its moral: Because the boy had shown himself a liar, when a wolf did appear no one believed him, and the sheep were scattered. A few of those who warn of the evil of Artificial Intelligence may truly believe in the Frankenstein traits of what they have created. Others fear liability suits or want to discourage competition. Some see warnings as a way to enhance their profile. Politicians see virtue in scaring the public, as it sends people running for the cover of a benevolent government. And there will be a small number whose interest is in having U.S. companies slow their research and development, which would allow China and others to surge ahead.

 

Beware the alarmists.

"My Love for Children's Books and "Why You Should Read Children's Books...", by Katherine Rundell

This is my second essay of the weekend. There are a couple of others simmering on the cooker, but not yet ready for the table.

As a fan (and modest collector) of children’s books, I had fun with this essay. While all children’s stories may not be politically correct, there is wisdom inthem. To censor or ban children’s books, because their content may not accord with today’s moral teachings, is to deprive a child the ability to understand how his country’s culture changed and evolved over the years.

 

C.S. Lewis, author of the Narnia books, famously stated that a book worth reading at age ten is often equally – or even more – worth reading at age fifty. In the past ten years I have read (or re-read) such classics as Moby Dick, Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy, Huckleberry Finn, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Lewis’s Narnia Tales, and Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden. None have done me harm. All have done me good. If you do not read Ms. Rundell’s book – which I hope you do – perhaps, my essay will cause you to re-read some of your favorites from childhood. 

 

Sydney M. Williams

 

Burrowing into Books

“My Love for Children’s Books and...

Why You Should Read Children’s Books, Even Though You Are So Old And Wise”

By Katherine Rundell

October 4, 2026

 

“The more that you read, the more things you will know.

The more that you learn, the more places you will go.”

                                                                                                            Theodor Geisel (Dr. Seuss), 1904-1991

                                                                                                             I Can Read With My Eyes Shut, 1978

 

For most of our married life I have collected books. In the late 1960s, while living in Durham, CT. we had a neighbor, Keith Hutchison. A retired editor of The Nation, he had been born in England in 1901, moved to New York, and retired to rural Connecticut. In Durham, he operated a search service for college libraries and a small used bookstore. Most important for me, he stimulated my interest. Forty-seven years later, when we sold our house in Old Lyme, I had more than 5,000 books, including several first editions of children’s books. Moving to Essex Meadows, we converted one room into a library, which houses about 700 books. I brought my favorites, gave my children what they wanted, and donated the balance to the town library.

 

I still buy books, but no longer as a collector. Today’s purchases are mostly given away once read. Not so Katherine Rundell’s wonderful short book. It has found a home on my shelves. Children’s books have long been favorites. I have first and/or signed editions of many, from Huckleberry Finn (bought from Mr. Hutchison) to Winnie the Pooh, Through the Looking Glass, Stuart Little and The Crock of Gold. Many years ago, in a second-hand Philadelphia bookstore, I found a first edition of one of my childhood favorites, Wolf Story by Willam McCleery. It was written in 1947 at the MacDowell Colony, in Peterborough, New Hampshire, the town where I grew up. 

 

Katherine Rundell is a Fellow at St. Catherine’s College, Oxford (where she completed her doctoral thesis on John Donne), and she is author of best-selling books for children and adults. In this brief (66 pages) book, Ms. Rundell takes us through her childhood reading experiences, a brief history of fairy tales, which “...were never just for children,” to the “Golden Age” of children’s literature that includes Lewis Carroll, Rudyard Kipling, J. M. Barrie and others. Separately, she writes of American authors, like Louisa May Alcott, Mark Twain, L. Frank Baum, Kay Thompson and Judy Blume. This is an informative, lively book.

 

“Children’s books,” she writes, “are not a hiding place; they are a seeking place...Remember what it was to long for impossible and perhaps-not-impossible things.” As E.B. White, in a 1969 interview with The Paris Review, said: “Anybody who shifts gears when he writes for children is likely to wind up stripping his gears.”

 

Like many, I have a predilection for children’s books. C.S. Lewis once wrote that a children’s story should be written simply because it is the best art-form for the story you have to tell. Ms. Rundell’s book will return you to your childhood, to the books you then read and to the dreams you once had.  

"A Family Story"

 As you may have noted, my output of essays has declined, especially those of a political nature. While there is much for which I am thankful – the border is secure; Iran has been deprived of a nuclear weapon; the economy appears robust; interest rates seem to be normalizing; "Wokeness" in the workplace and universities seems to be in remission; businesses and people appear to be adjusting to the inevitable changes that will be wrought by changes in technology – I am dismayed by the behavior many of our politicians on both sides of the aisle. Perhaps I am getting old, but I yearn for a time when civility and tolerance were more prominent, and less hatred was being expressed. 

Nevertheless, the pull of writing essays remains strong. This one is short about a single, but amusing, incident many years ago. And tomorrow I shall have a review of a short but delightful book.

 

The photo is of me and my five siblings (I am on the left), taken around 1950, outside of our home in Peterborough. Three more boys would be born before the family was complete.

 

Sydney M. Williams

 

More Essays from Essex

        “A Family Story”

October 3, 2026

 

“I was lucky to be born abnormal. It ran in the family.”

                                                                                                                                    E.B. White

                                                                                                                                    Letter to Mrs. Dorothy Guth

                                                                                                                                    March 16, 1984

 

We had pulled into a gas station somewhere near Athol, Massachusetts.

 

“Where you headed?” the attendant inquired.

 

“My mother-in-law’s,” my father replied.

 

He surveyed the car and trailer: “Does she know you’re coming?” was his dubious response.

 

My mother laughed.

 

It was around 1950. In our 1941 Ford station wagon, pulling a one-horse trailer in which were a Shetland pony and two goats, we were driving from Peterborough, New Hampshire to Madison, Connecticut to visit my grandmother. Besides my parents, in the car were six children, a couple of dogs and a cat.

 

My mother and father were artists – sculptors – who a few years earlier had started a small toy business, Red Shed Rubber Animals. My mother had grown up in New Haven and Madison, and my father in Wellesley, Massachusetts and Peterborough. They had married during the Depression and chosen to live lives quite different from that in which they had been raised. They created a close-knit family that included their love for family, horses and skiing. 

 

We saw a lot of my paternal grandparents, as they summered on property adjacent to ours. On the other hand, my maternal grandmother – widowed in 1947 – lived in the East River section of Madison; so we would spend a couple of weeks with her every summer. She had a barn; so the animals would not have to bed down in the house.

 

My mother’s response was infectious; my father saw the humor, as did we. They had grown up in the 1920s, were young adults during the 1930s Depression years, and my father went to war in 1944. The post-War years were filled with hope for peace and prosperity. But this moment at the gas station was funny. As E. B. White described his family in the epigraph above, we were an abnormally strange sight – a cacophonous station wagon, filled with voices of children – crying and laughing, and the sounds of animals – barking, mewing, neighing and bleating.

 

As we drove off, the attendant smiled.