Category: History

The unenchanted travel of the here and now


A medieval inn. Source: ChatGPT 5.1. Click here for high-resolution version.

It’s an odd paradox — to very much want to know what’s happening in the world, but very much not to want to be in that world. When you’re both introverted and old, like me, then all the more does one want to be away from the world. It’s why I live in the woods now. This almost certainly has something to do with why I no longer read stories set in the here and now.

It wasn’t always that way. Back in the 1970s, Armistead Maupin’s series of Tales of the City novels changed my life. They were very much set in the here and now, in San Francisco. Those novels were a big factor in my deciding to move to San Francisco back in the late 1980s. And by the way, by an unplanned stroke of fortune, I ended up at the San Francisco Chronicle, where Maupin wrote those novels in serial form in the Chronicle. I even, at last, met Maupin at an office Christmas party. By that time Maupin was rich enough from the novels that he no longer had to work at the Chronicle.

Still, the urge to travel has never completely left me, and I hope it never does. I’ve seen most of the places that I ever wanted to see, so it’s Scotland now that best suits my anything-but-the-here-and-now attitude. In Scotland, especially in certain places, the realities of today’s world can easily be imagined away — pubs, little villages, farmland that probably looked very little different 400 years ago, moors and bogs, castles, and the sea crashing against rocky cliffs. San Francisco suited me well when I was younger, but not anymore.

But: one has to get there from here. From where I am in the Appalachian foothills, that’s 24 hours or more of the most miserable sort of immersion in the here and now — the noise and discomforts of airports, being packed into airplanes, paying through the nose for a taxi or Uber ride, and sometimes an ugly and time-wasting layover in an airport hotel. No doubt this is inevitable in an era when people travel by the millions, requiring great efficiency. The economics of travel today, it seems, have been fine-tuned to keep the level of misery just short of the level at which people will refuse to bear it. The misery is twice as great on the way home, because everything that one was looking forward to is now behind rather than ahead. Though, to be sure, being home at last is awfully nice, too.

I was unable to find any new fiction that interests me, so once again I’m re-reading The Lord of the Rings. My favorite parts, really, are the traveling parts, especially in Book 1 when Frodo and friends set out from Hobbiton and travel cross-country to Bree and to the inn named the Prancing Pony.

I’ve often been curious about what travel was like in medieval times. There were Roman roads, of course, going in all directions from Italy into the heart of Europe as well as into Britain. There were a good many people on those roads, which means that there had to be a support system for travelers. For what reasons did people travel? How safe was it? Were there a great many inns, or too few? Who walked, and who rode? What kind of wagons and other conveyances did they use? Did they travel much during the winter?

It seemed very likely to me that scholars have a great deal of information about medieval travel, so I asked ChatGPT for suggestions. I’ve ordered a 1997 reprint of Norbert Ohler’s The Medieval Traveller. It’s an English translation of the original German, Reisen im Mittelalter.

I’m hoping the book will provide some fuel for my imagination — staying right here in the woods while traveling in my imagination, and not in the here and now.

Vietnam: Quo Vadis? — the full text


Wallace Carroll interviewing young Royal Air Force pilots during the Battle of Britain. Source: Wake Forest Magazine, Wake Forest University.

Histories of the Vietnam War always refer to an editorial in the Winston-Salem Journal published on March 17, 1968, arguing for an end to the war. The editorial was written by Wallace Carroll, then editor and publisher of the Journal. In Wallace Carroll’s obituary, published July 30, 2002, the New York Times wrote:

“On March 17, 1968, he published a signed editorial in Winston-Salem under the headline “Vietnam — Quo Vadis?” that argued that United States policy in Southeast Asia was misguided and irrelevant to the goal of thwarting Soviet expansion.

“Dean Acheson, the former secretary of state and an adviser to President Lyndon B. Johnson, showed the editorial to Johnson and stood by while the president read it. Later that month, Johnson announced that he would not run for re-election and would begin peace negotiations with North Vietnam. In an article about events leading to Johnson’s announcement, the Washington Post reported that Mr. Carroll’s editorial had influenced his thinking.”

Who was Wallace Carroll?

In 1939, Carroll became editor of the United Press International Bureau in London. He covered both the London Blitz and the Battle of Britain. From Wikipedia: “From 1942 to 1945 he headed the European division of the United States Office of War Information, charged with all propaganda efforts aimed at Nazi-conquered Europe during World War II.” In 1955, he became head of the Washington Bureau of the New York Times. In 1963, he moved to Winston-Salem to become editor and publisher of the Winston-Salem Journal, which, under Carroll, won the Pulitzer Prize for public service in 1971.

Mary Llewellyn McNeil, who was in one of Carroll’s classes at Wake Forest University and who later published a biography of Carroll, wrote for Wake Forest Magazine:

“Wallace Carroll was not just the editor and publisher of the local news­paper. He was present and reported on most of the major events of the 20th century. He knew, befriended or advised nearly all the mid-century’s key decision-makers — from Winston Churchill to Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhow­er. As a correspondent for United Press he covered the League of Nations in the mid-1930s, sent dispatches on the bombing of Madrid during the Spanish Civil War, interviewed Field Marshal Ber­nard Montgomery following the British army’s narrow escape from Dunkirk and reported nightly from his office rooftop on the bombs falling on London during The Blitz. He was on the first convoy into the Soviet Union following the Nazi in­vasion in 1941 and remained to cover the Nazi’s initial assault on Moscow. Barely making it out, on his way home via Persia (now known as Iran), Singapore and the Philippines, he landed in Hawaii seven days after the Dec. 7, 1941, Japanese attack and filed among the first reports from the field. He eventually became the first director of the U.S. Office of War Information in London, specializing in psychological warfare operations during World War II.”

Carroll wrote a book about his work for the U.S. Office of War Information, Persuade or Perish.

I was too young then to really appreciate someone of Carroll’s stature, but I knew Carroll when I was only a whipper-snapper summer intern at the Winston-Salem Journal, and, later, a rookie copy editor.

Online at last

Until now, the text of this editorial existed only on microfilm. A few years ago, I had facsimile made from microfilm with the intention of keying in the editorial so that it would at last exist in digital form. I never quite finished that job until recently. I uploaded the page image to ChatGPT, and ChatGPT helped me with the transcription. Update: May Llewellyn McNeil includes the text of “Vietnam: Quo Vadis” in her 2022 biography of Carroll, Century’s Witness.

Here is the link to the full text of Vietnam: Quo Vadis


Carroll introduces Dean Acheson, former U.S. Secretary of State. I believe this photo is from Shirley Auditorium at Salem College in Winston-Salem. Source: Wake Forest Magazine, Wake Forest University.