Select Page
A Story of Persistence: Black Educators and the Founding of the Gloucester Training School in 1921

A Story of Persistence: Black Educators and the Founding of the Gloucester Training School in 1921

By:

Olivia Brubaker, B.A. in History, Christopher Newport University (Class of 2024)

Sheri Shuck-Hall, Ph.D., Professor of History, Christopher Newport University

Housed in Virginia’s Gloucester Museum of History, there is a special collection of Black educators’ applications for teaching positions at the Gloucester Training School. Local Black leader, T.C. Walker, and fellow community members founded the Rosenwald school in 1921 to improve the lives of Black children for generations. It was the first public secondary school to provide free education for Blacks in Gloucester County in a time when access to schools was not guaranteed. Featuring these teacher applications, this exhibit reveals a story of persistence—a history of Black educators in Virginia who fought for equal access to education.

T.C. Walker and the Gloucester Training School

Thomas Calhoun Walker was born into slavery on June 16, 1862, in Gloucester County, Virginia. On January 1, 1863, the Emancipation Proclamation freed him and his family, but they remained in Gloucester. Walker assumed many roles over the course of his lifetime; he was a teacher, principal, lawyer, and government official. While these are significant accomplishments on their own, their weight is elevated with the knowledge that Walker received a very minimal education during his childhood. Yet, despite the barriers, Walker persisted in securing his education. Although he failed the entrance exam, Walker worked out a deal with Samuel Chapman Armstrong, founder of the Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute (1868), to take classes at night in exchange for working on the campus farm during the day. Following his graduation from the Hampton Institute, Walker returned to Gloucester County and taught at Old Poplar School for six years.[1]

Photograph of T.C. Walker. “Frontispiece Photograph in Thomas Calhoun Walker Manuscript (ca.1950).” Special Collections Research Center, Earl Gregg Swem Library, College of William and Mary.

Even after leaving the classroom, Walker remained committed to improving Black education. Prior to the founding of the Gloucester Training School, very few Blacks in the county received an education past the 5th grade. Walker sought to build a new school that would teach students through the 7th grade. However, Walker was met with some resistance from the county’s school board, emphasizing that Blacks did not require an education beyond basic literacy, let alone exposure to more advanced material. The school board consequently denied Walker monetary assistance. Walker had to find funding on his own.[2]

Julius Rosenwald and Booker T. Washington at Tuskegee Institute, 1915. Courtesy of Special Collections Research Center, University of Chicago Library.

In 1917, Julius Rosenwald, a Progressive Jewish American businessman, philanthropist, and the president and CEO of Sears, Roebuck, established the Rosenwald Fund that provided matching funds for the construction of Black schools in Southern communities that needed it the most. The Rosenwald school building program initially began in Alabama with the help of Rosenwald’s trusted friend and colleague, Booker T. Washington, who had been T.C. Walker’s mentor at Hampton Institute. After Washington’s death, the program developed into a fund that continued to help Black communities build schools despite continuing discrimination in the South. Walker convinced Rosenwald that Blacks in Gloucester County would benefit immensely with advanced education and secured the grant.[3]

Superintendent Kelly, Mr. Gresham, Principal T. C. Walker, Miss Smith, and others standing outside of Gloucester Training School (c. 1923). Jackson Davis, photographer. “Rosenwald School Superintendent Kenney, Mr. Gresham, Principal Walker, Miss Smith. Building Construction. Gloucester County Training School.” Photograph, c. 1923. Jackson Davis Collection of African American Photographs. Courtesy of the University of Virginia Special Collections.

The Rosenwald Fund required community buy-in and local government support. To receive the money, the white school board had to manage it once built and work with the local Black community to raise matching funds. Blacks also had to contribute their own money or provide labor towards the building’s construction. Rosenwald’s challenge grants motivated Black and white cooperation, as well as aid from local governments and school boards. T.C. Walker took the lead and obtained large private donations and fundraised within the Black community to help secure the matching funds necessary to open the school. Fundraising was significant in that it acutely depicts the extent to which Black schools relied upon financial support from benefactors and the local community.[4]

Students and teachers standing in front of the finished Gloucester Training School, 1921. Courtesy of the Gloucester Museum of History.

With the support of the Rosenwald Fund, it was the first time that Black children in the county could receive free education at the secondary level. A quote from Walker best summarizes the significance that this school had on Gloucester’s Black community:

The Training School was the only place in Gloucester where our boys and girls could go beyond the seventh grade…. But so eager were our people to take advantage of what the school offered that many pupils came from twenty or twenty-five miles in motor trucks or automobiles. Others drove from twelve to fifteen miles a day in buggies.[5]

This willingness to travel such distances to the Gloucester Training School displays not only the need for the school in the area, but also the widespread desire for advanced education.[6]

T.C. Walker and a group of builders from both the Black and white Gloucester community outside of the Gloucester Training School. Jackson Davis, photographer. “Gloucester County Training School, Group of builders at work,” Photograph, c. 1921. Jackson Davis Collection of African American Photographs. Courtesy of the University of Virginia Special Collections.

Struggle in the Pursuit of Expanding Education

The barriers in establishing the Gloucester Training School were deeply imbedded in a separate but unequal system of education that had roots in the early 1800s. The topic of Black education was highly convoluted and opinions on the matter varied greatly. The 19th century witnessed many policies and beliefs that produced varying results including, but not limited to, state laws prohibiting the education of enslaved people, the establishment of public and private schools for Black children, and white campaigns in support of and in opposition to Black access to education.  The mixed messages expressed by white reformers reveals their opposing beliefs that education would foster the transformation of freed people into responsible citizens and their fear of creating a system in which Blacks would lack self-reliance and depend upon whites. Yet even with their emancipation secured with the passage of the 13th Amendment in 1865, Blacks were denied the same educational opportunities as their white counterparts moving forward.[7]

Charles Paxton, photographer. “[Learning is wealth. Wilson, Charley, Rebecca, and Rosa. Slaves from New Orleans.]” Photograph. New York, 1880. Courtesy of the Library of Congress, Gladstone Collection of African American Photographs.

The federal government during the Reconstruction era (1865-1877) reserved some funds towards the education of newly emancipated Blacks. However, providing a proper education proved to be an uphill battle because of the lack of school buildings, educational materials, and available teachers, let alone animosity from many white communities throughout the rest of the 19th century. In the Supreme Court ruling, Homer A. Plessy v. John H. Ferguson in 1896, the “separate but equal” clause legitimized separating Blacks and whites if accommodations were comparable, which they were not. School segregation along with Jim Crow laws continued to deepen the disparity. Blacks also had little to no voice in the oversight of their own schools. The naming of the Gloucester Training School demonstrates this imbalance. Many schools specializing in the higher education of Blacks used terms such as “training school” or “institute” in their names rather than high school or secondary school to distinguish them from white high schools, which received substantially more funding and support.[8]

Students outside of Gloucester Training School dormitory. Jackson Davis, photographer. “[Dormitory, Gloucester Training School.]” Photograph, c. 1925. Jackson Davis Collection of African American Photographs. Courtesy of the University of Virginia Special Collections.

Once built, institutional and financial barriers created many obstacles for Black schools, and the educators experienced these difficulties first-hand. Black educators lacked sufficient supplies, taught in dilapidated and overcrowded classrooms, and received substantially less pay than their white counterparts. Although the wage gap differed from district to district, there was a connection between teachers’ salaries and their level of training. Educational backgrounds and prior experience were often significant factors in the hiring process. In the case of the Gloucester Training School, applications asked candidates for their education, including high school, university, and summer schools attended, as well as their prior teaching experience in terms of grade levels and subjects. In the American South, white teachers often had more years of education compared to Black teachers based on access, providing school authorities with justification for the discrepancy in pay among teachers. However, these disparities were not proportional to the differences in years of training received, meaning that Black teachers were still comparatively underpaid in their positions.[9]

Lillian Lemon’s application for a teaching position at the Gloucester Training School, 1922. She had 19 years of teaching experience. She had to indicate whether she could teach sewing, cooking, basketry, drawing, and singing, as well as provide references to her “moral character.” Courtesy of the Gloucester Museum of History.

White school authorities were not ignorant of their control over the Black education system. This much is evident in a statement from Jackson Davis, the white supervisor of rural elementary schools in Virginia, when he declared in 1913: “The school is almost the only point where conscious effort is made by the white people to influence and develop the Negro race, and here is a great opportunity for constructive work.”[10] Though these words seemed to demonstrate white commitment to Black education, they contained pejorative and condescending assumptions. Such leaders used control over the school system to their advantage, particularly in the hiring process of Black teachers. Common instances of misconduct included hiring candidates for personal reasons, or purposefully rejecting educators with more training experience to justify the discriminatory wage gap present between white and Black teachers. The immense emphasis that was placed on teacher salary is evident in the Gloucester Training School applications that asked candidates to provide information such as their present, expected, and lowest salaries that they would accept. In the American South, these corrupt hiring practices and low wages drove many qualified teachers from the profession, adding to the overall poor impressions of Black educators and the distrust of their qualifications.[11]

Lucile Lowry’s application for a teaching position at the Gloucester Training School, 1922. Note the questions asking, “present monthly salary, monthly salary expected, and least you will except.” Courtesy of the Gloucester Museum of History.

In addition to tackling underfunding and discriminatory salaries, Black teachers also served their community beyond the classroom. They had the responsibility of not only advocating for improvements to the school, but also convincing Black families to send their children there. Black activists and politicians, including T.C. Walker, placed these expectations on educators. Grounded in the principle of self-help, a popular philosophy during the early 20th century, it promoted the idea that the best way for Blacks to advance in society was to advocate for themselves. Many Black teachers therefore sought to uphold these principles through education, showing positive outcomes of Blacks working to transform their communities. Walker also stressed that Black educators should act as ambassadors for their race, seeking affluent whites for support. Yet these educators were not always successful in transforming the ideals into reality as many of their efforts fell on deaf ears.[12]

Teachers at the Gloucester Training School and Principal Walker (far right) in front of the school. Jackson Davis, photographer. “Gloucester County Training School, Group of Teachers.” Photograph, c. 1921. Jackson Davis Collection of African American Photographs. Courtesy of the University of Virginia Special Collections.
Education Politics

Black educators often found themselves caught in a Catch-22, between the competing sides of expanding opportunities for Blacks and keeping the status quo. Black educators’ positions promoted change towards an equal education system, but the fate of their jobs still rested in the hands of white school authorities who often resisted. These authorities discouraged progressive changes and sometimes would call upon teachers to act as informers in the Black community. As a result, there was no consensus among schoolteachers. Rather, some attempted to exert influence and promote progress, producing little change, while others begrudgingly accepted the status quo and abandoned—at least temporarily—the movement for equality. In addition to this difficult situation, some Black teachers also faced criticism in their own Black communities. Key reasons included the general fear of white backlash, or the lack of education compared to Black teachers. Reports described how some Blacks viewed teachers as pretentious, especially when they adopted a manner of speech that was too much like that of whites. As a result, some teachers felt alienated and encountered resistance when trying to convince parents to send their children to school. No matter what road teachers took, it was full of obstacles and a long way towards equality.[13]

“Gloucester County Training School.” Photograph. c. 1928. Courtesy of the Library of Virginia: School Buildings Service Photographs Collection.

By the end of World War II, separate but unequal remained the norm. Yet in 1948, the NAACP (National Association for the Advancement of Colored People) supported three legal cases in Virginia, claiming that school systems fostered racial inequality and violated the Fourteenth Amendment. In the Supreme Court case, Alice Lorraine Ashley v. School Board of Gloucester County, Virginia, and J. Walter Kenny, Division Superintendent, the plaintiff sued over the lack of equitable facilities at the Gloucester Training School compared to nearby white schools. Compelling pictures submitted in the case included the lack of indoor plumbing and a clean water source, and an outhouse instead of indoor stalls. The ruling acknowledged that discrimination against Blacks had occurred but failed to offer solutions or enforce any changes.[14]    

“Student drawing water from unsanitary well at Gloucester County Training School (note pool of dirty water at entrance that drains back into the well).” Photograph, 1948. Plaintiff’s Exhibit No. 9 for the civil rights case, Alice Lorraine Ashley, et al. v. School Board of Gloucester Co. and J. Walter Kenny, Division Superintendent. Courtesy of the National Archives.

Photograph of a bathroom at Gloucester Training School, 1948. Plaintiff’s Exhibit No. 42 for the civil rights case, Alice Lorraine Ashley, et al. v. School Board of Gloucester Co. and J. Walter Kenny, Division Superintendent. Courtesy of the National Archives.

Photograph of girl’s bathroom at Botetourt High School, Gloucester, Virginia, 1948.” Plaintiff’s Exhibit No. 28 for the civil rights case, Alice Lorraine Ashley, et al. v. School Board of Gloucester Co. and J. Walter Kenny, Division Superintendent. Courtesy of the National Archives.

It would take more trials in the latter half of the 20th century to begin to uproot the deeply embedded system of discrimination and inequality in Black education—eventually moving towards social progress. In 1954, the Supreme Court ruled in Oliver Brown, et al. v. Board of Education of Topeka, et al. that the segregation of schools was unconstitutional because of its inherent inequality. The slow integration of schools began shortly after, with Blacks facing a new set of challenges, eventually leading to greater, positive changes with the Civil Rights Movement. Yet educational inequalities in the U.S. remain. According to a study in 2019, many schools are not yet fully integrated; over half of K-12 students nationwide live in racially based school districts, many of which continue to struggle with funding disparities.[15]

“Nettie Hunt and daughter Nickie sit on steps of the Supreme Court building on May 18, 1954, the day following the Court’s historic decision in Brown v. Board of Education. Nettie is holding a newspaper with the headline “High Court Bans Segregation in Public Schools.” Courtesy of Brown v. Board (tmcsh.org).

Many of the experiences told here mirror those around the country, yet we do not know the full history due to a general lack of records. The educators’ accounts and their applications serve as important documents, working to tell the stories of individuals who faced many hardships, yet persevered in the effort to improve Black education and the lives of so many children and future generations. To learn more about the history of this school or to view one of the applications in person, please visit the Gloucester Museum of History located at 6539 Main Street in Gloucester, Virginia.

Acknowledgements

We would like to give special thanks to Robert Kelly, Director of the Gloucester Museum of History, for inspiring this exhibit. He graciously allowed Olivia to search through the museum’s special collections to research this service-learning project. We would also like to thank Dr. Beth Wood, Instructor of History at Christopher Newport University, who kindly offered her expertise and peer-reviewed this exhibit.  

About the Author

Olivia Brubaker will earn her B.A. in History with minors in Literature, Leadership, and Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies in Spring 2024. She completed this exhibit as a service-learning project in partnership with the Gloucester Museum of History and CNU’s Public History Center. While earning her degree, Olivia interned at Ivy Creek Natural Area and Historic River View Farm in Charlottesville, Virginia, where she gave tours and researched the Carr-Greer family and the farm’s history. She plans to pursue a career in public history.

Notes

[1] T.C. Walker, “Thomas Calhoun Walker Autobiography.” Manuscript. Special Collections Research Center, College of William and Mary Libraries, 22-3, 36, 72.

[2] Walker, “Thomas Calhoun Walker Autobiography,” 171-2.

[3] Peter M. Ascoli, Julius Rosenwald: The Man Who Built Sears, Roebuck and Advanced the Cause of Black Education in the American South (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2006), 149-151, 297-299; Walker, “Thomas Calhoun Walker Autobiography,” 171-2.

[4] Ascoli, Julius Rosenwald, 151-152.

[5] Walker, “Thomas Calhoun Walker Autobiography,” 172.

[6] Walker, “Thomas Calhoun Walker Autobiography,” 170-172.

[7] James D. Anderson, The Education of Blacks in the South, 1860-1935 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1988), 2; See Evelyn Brooks Higgenbotham, Righteous Discontent: The Women’s Movement in the Black Baptist Church, 1880-1920 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2003).

[8] Lester C. Lamon, “Black Public Education in the South, 1861-1920: By Whom, For Whom and Under Whose Control?” Journal of Thought 18, no. 3 (Fall 1983): 76-90, 84-5; Walker, “Thomas Calhoun Walker Autobiography,” 172; Michael Fultz, “Teacher Training and African American Education in the South, 1900-1940.” The Journal of Negro Education 64, no. 2 (Spring 1995): 196-210, 203; Case File for Homer A. Plessy v. John H. Ferguson, in National Archives NextGen Catalog. Accessed 19 February 2024.

[9] Michael Fultz, “African American Teachers in the South, 1890-1940: Powerlessness and the Ironies of Expectations and Protest.” History of Education Quarterly 35, no. 4 (Winter 1995): 401-422, 403-404; Fultz, “Teacher Training and African American Education in the South,” 200-201.

[10] Jackson Davis, “Practical Training in Rural Negro Schools,” The Hampton Bulletin 9, no. 6 (1913).

[11] Fultz, “African American Teachers in the South,” 414-416.

[12] Fultz, “African American Teachers in the South,” 409-411; Eric Anderson, Alfred A. Moss, and Alfred A. Moss Jr., Dangerous Donations: Northern Philanthropy and Southern Black Education, 1902-1930 (Columbia: University of Missouri, 1999), 38.

[13] Fultz, “African American Teachers in the South, 417-418; Adam Fairclough, A Class of Their Own: Black Teachers in the Segregated South (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2007), 15-17.

[14] Case File for Alice Lorraine Ashley, et al. v. School Board of Gloucester Co. and J. Walter Kenny, Division Superintendent in National Archives NextGen Catalog. Accessed 20 February 2024.

[15] Case File for Brown et al. v. Board of Education of Topeka et al., in National Archives NextGen Catalog. Accessed 20 February 2024; Grace Schultz, “Equalization and its Role in Dismantling Racial Segregation in Virginia Public Schools,” in Equalization and its Role in Dismantling Racial Segregation in Virginia Public Schools – Rediscovering Black History (archives.gov), 4 May 2022. Accessed 19 February 2024; “$23 Billion,” EdBuild, (February 2019), edbuild.org/content/23-billion. Accessed 20 February 2024.

A Spoonful of Opium Helps the Medicine Sell Faster:       The Origins of American Pharmaceuticals and Patent Medicines

A Spoonful of Opium Helps the Medicine Sell Faster: The Origins of American Pharmaceuticals and Patent Medicines

By:

Brooke Patten, B.A. in History (Class of 2024), Christopher Newport University

Sheri Shuck-Hall, Ph.D., Professor of History, Christopher Newport University

Did you know that the distribution of American pharmaceuticals has been a developing industry since the colonial period? Yet we often overlook how various cultural groups influenced American medicine and why in 1906 the United States developed government standards and regulations of products to treat illness and disease. Until then, sellers of patent medicines, sometimes referred to as quack doctors, were able to provide pharmaceuticals that had dangerous and addictive side-effects. This exhibit examines how the American pharmaceutical industry developed from the colonial period to the early 20th century and its impact on the public. Featuring artifacts from the Isle of Wight County Museum in Smithfield, Virginia, we will explore the origins of pharmaceuticals in early American medicinal practices, the roles of doctors and pharmacists in the 19th century, and the hazards of unregulated patent medicines that led to U.S. legislative action to protect consumers.[1]

Early Influencers

Drawing labeled, “A man holding his nose to avoid breathing in a miasma.” Miasma 17th Century, Courtesy of the Wellcome Collection.

A significant influence on colonial and early American medicine was the knowledge brought by European colonizers. Throughout the 17th century, many people believed in a popular scientific theory that miasmas – or poisonous air – harmed those close to it and caused diseases. The earliest references of this hypothesis could be traced all the way back to ancient Greece. Greek philosopher Hippocrates argued that a person’s environment, the proximity to certain waters, and overall geographic location all played a role in why someone fell ill. The miasma theory ultimately led most people to believe that their bodies became infected when miasmatic air entered their system and therefore needed to remove the toxins to be cured. Coincidentally, herbs that naturally increased the excretion of urine (diuretics) and feces (laxatives) appeared in many popular early medicines. Americans favored this reasonable understanding of disease through the late 19th century, gravitating towards pharmaceutical products that provided the quickest and simplest way to cure themselves.[2]

Rare Book Division, The New York Public Library. Jacob Bigelow, “Laurus Sassafras. (Sassafras tree),” 1817-1820. New York Public Library Digital Collections.

Europeans also acquired medicinal knowledge from Indigenous communities and incorporated native plants and herbs into prescribed remedies and treatments. Sassafras, which is native to the present-day eastern United States, was a popular herbal remedy throughout many tribes. The Lenape (the original inhabitants of Manhattan) used sassafras in spring as a cleansing tonic and its root to thin the blood. The Cherokee, Creek, Koasati, Iroquois, Delaware, Chippewa and others treated many ailments like bladder pain, coughing, bruising, and eye disorders with sassafras bark, roots, and leaves.[3] In the West, the Tewa (a linguistic group within the Pueblo people of modern-day New Mexico) traditionally used the juniper plant for a variety of medical benefits. It reduced pain and swelling, aided childbirth recovery, and functioned as a filling for teeth and as a diuretic. American colonists widely adopted the medical use of native sassafras and juniper (and countless others), and eventually medical manufacturers profited off this knowledge.[4]

Photos of Ramon’s Brownie Pills. These were advertised as a “diuretic stimulant to the kidneys” and contained oil from juniper berries. Courtesy of the Isle of Wight County Museum, Virginia (264.99).

Other influencers of American medicine were Black medical practitioners in the 18th century, known as herb doctors. Informal apprentices trained with elders as they learned and used plants to produce medicine based on family traditions and knowledge. For example, herb doctors used balmony (a white flowering plant native to North America) and bittersweet nightshade in a medical drink known as “bitters.” Black herb doctors prescribed it not only to cure and strengthen the body, but also to purify the blood. Black families handed down such practices and recipes over generations, which expanded the medical knowledge available to those enslaved in the South. In the American colonies, then, medical practitioners benefitted from the abundance of new medicinal plant life around them and learned from the neighboring Indigenous and enslaved African communities.[5]

Balmony, or turtlehead (Chelone glabra), is a perennial plant from the figwort family that grows in the eastern half of the United States and Canada. For generations, herbalists have used it to aid digestion and relieve constipation and inflammation. For more information, see Chelone glabra L., United States Department of Agriculture, Natural Resources Conservation Service.

Physicians vs. Pharmacists

In colonial America, doctors not only cared for sick patients, but also prepared medical remedies and sold them in “doctors’ shops”—the precursor to modern-day pharmacies.[6] Physicians who practiced in the colonial period could receive either formal or informal training in the field. Yet most colonial doctors lacked a licensed education; they instead established their medical knowledge based on family records and experience as an apprentice. Some of the informal medical experts were women in the communities as they were responsible for their family’s medical care, including managing births. Other practitioners earned respect through costly (often prohibitive) doctoral research at established universities in Great Britain or at the early American medical colleges.[7]

Apothecary at Colonial Williamsburg. Courtesy of The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation

Men who could afford the expense attended the first medical school at the College of Philadelphia (now the University of Philadelphia), established in 1765. Schools that followed included Harvard Medical School (1782), Dartmouth Medical School (1797), the Medical Institution of Yale College (1810), and Columbia University’s College of Physicians and Surgeons (1814). By the early 19th century, a nationwide surge in scientific endeavors led to the growth of professional medical training at these institutions. As the United States was still in its early years, medical and healthcare advancements progressed slowly. Yet increased knowledge and professionalization from these universities lead to the eventual divide between physicians who diagnosed the ailments and the pharmacists who distributed the actual medicine.[8]

Photo of a Virginia Medical License from 1894. Courtesy of the Isle of Wight County Museum (1728-87).

While apothecary and pharmacy are often used interchangeably, the separation of both from professional medical experts started in the early 18th century. The colonial apothecary owner was someone involved and knowledgeable in both the pharmaceutical and medical fields, with responsibilities ranging from prescribing treatments to administering them. However, as exclusiveness of the medical field developed, colonial legislative acts eventually solidified the pharmaceutical industry as a subfield of medicine. For example, an early Virginia law from 1736 separated the physician from “any apothecary making up the prescription of another.”[9] Later on, the establishment of the American Pharmaceutical Association in 1852 led to further professionalization and standardization of pharmacists, which became the preferred title. Yet the medical industry headed for a revolution full of hidden dangers with industrialization and deregulation.[10]

“Palatable Poison” for the People

Front cover of Collier’s: The National Weekly, 3 June 1905, featuring E. W. Kemble’s illustration for “Death’s Laboratory,” an exposé of patent medicine fraud. The description reads: Cartoon shows a skull surrounded by money bags. Inside the nose of the skull a skeleton pours Laudanum and alcohol from barrels in the skull’s eyes into bottles labeled with various types of patent medicine. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.

After the American Revolution, a populist movement rejected elitist, traditional physicians and even pharmacists—both associated with British colonialism—in favor of do-it-yourself medicine that was reminiscent of the frontier mentality. By the 1840s, U.S. manufacturers began producing their own medicinal products to match this growing trend. Companies secured trademarks of their concoctions, protecting their brands. These goods, known as patent medicines, often included opium, cocaine, and nightshade. Manufacturers avoided the full disclosure of the ingredients in their products (and therefore were not officially patented). Patent medicines appeared in newspaper advertisements, featuring drugs and special remedies to heal even the worst ailments without a doctor’s prescription. The medical profession warned against these claims, but many Americans ignored them. Congress instead supported a free market without government control in the hopes of encouraging innovation and entrepreneurship.[11]  

Trademark registration by Weismann & Muellenbach for Comanti Victoria brand, “Fluid Extract Taraxicum, Olive Oil, Tincture of Laudanum, and Insect Powders.” Notice that the exact amount of each ingredient is missing. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.

Until 1906, there were no federal regulations protecting the health and safety of Americans regarding the food and medical products that citizens purchased. Americans subsequently fell prey to the deceptions and exaggerations of patent medicines because of the shortage of healthcare options. Many communities, especially in more rural areas, lacked a doctor within a safe distance, and even more people could not afford a doctor’s visit, let alone the additional medication needed. This desperate lower-class population hoped to find cheap and convenient remedies for their painful ailments, leading them towards the potentially dangerous, untested concoctions. The public purchased patent medicines at local shops and even on the streets from travelling salesmen. Profiting on pain, unscrupulous companies built and expanded the market full of questionable and sometimes toxic products.[12]

This political cartoon is titled, “The Quack Doctor Superseding the Faculty.” It depicts an upset, “gouty” patient who traditional doctors cannot offer an immediate cure. Instead, he sees an advertisement for an expedient “universal medicine” from a quack doctor. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Opium was a popular additive of patent medicines. As early as 1753, Scottish doctor and surgeon George Young published A Treatise on Opium, which observed the effects of opium on over thirty-five ailments. He argued that the drug was far more effective than many had previously thought when given in larger doses. Though Dr. Young prefaced his work by mentioning that his research might increase the demand and consumption of the drug, he nonetheless felt it necessary to share his knowledge on opium’s productive uses. After the United States began the formal importation of opium in the early 19th century, the availability and popularity of the drug began to flood the American market, along with its addictive consequences. Despite opium’s effectiveness on pain relief, millions of people became addicted and abused the drug. Patent medicines offered elixirs or pills containing opium without a prescription, so Americans consumed these drugs without knowing how deadly they could be over time.[13]

This image shows an advertisement from Dr. Pierce’s brand of patent medicines. Some of these “family medicines” contained unknown amounts of opium. All sorts of products for a multitude of ailments claimed to be safe for adults as well as children.  Courtesy of the Library of Congress.

Cocaine was another popular drug in patent medicines, but its consumption began long before its use as a popular anesthetic in the late 1800’s. For generations, Indigenous peoples of South America had used the coca leaf to lessen the effects of living in high altitudes and to stimulate the mind, much like caffeine does today. Medical observations of cocaine’s benefits had been circulating since the mid-19th century. During the age of patent medicines, cocaine was a popular additive, advertised to produce “strength, vigor, and new life into all parts of the system.”[14] The most commercially successful cocaine tonic was Vin Mariani, a mix of red wine and cocaine. It claimed to treat many maladies, including the following: “malaria, fever, chills, nervous disability, mental and physical depression, and consumption.”[15] Other companies soon followed with their own concoctions, including the now world-renowned Coca-Cola. Its original recipe contained cocaine (omitted in the early 1900s) and rose in popularity as a tonic to increase energy and even as a cure for opium or coffee addictions. Yet the addictive nature of the drug was not immediately apparent to consumers.[16]

“VIN MARIANI, Report by Council on Pharmacy and Chemistry – With Comments Thereon.” in Propaganda for Reform in Proprietary Medicines (Chicago: Council on Pharmacy & Chemistry: 1908), 63.

Commonly known in America as deadly nightshade, belladonna also found its way into patent medicines. Nightshade consumption had its origins since antiquity as a hallucinogenic. In colonial America, nightshade had associations with witchcraft. As the name suggests, deadly nightshade harbors a toxicity fatal to humans in a large enough quantity. Those who ingested too much belladonna medicinal elixirs experienced dry throat and hazy vision, followed by restlessness, hallucinations, and convulsions. Those who died of belladonna overdose appeared to suffer from asphyxia and heart failure. Yet these dangerous side effects did little to stop the population from consuming belladonna by using lesser amounts as medicine. The limited medical science available left many illnesses unidentified, so patent medicine bottles often advertised a wide range of remedies; the grossly exaggerated claims to cure many ailments increased sales. Despite its potentially threatening effect, belladonna was sold in bottles like the one below for the purpose of treating constipation, muscle pain, whooping cough, epilepsy, and asthma.[17]

Photo of a bottle labeled “Belladonna Leaves.” Courtesy of the Isle of Wight County Museum (2022.003.0011).

The late 19th century patent medicine industry ranged from large companies that were deliberately dishonest about their treatments’ success, to small entrepreneurs attempting to scam vulnerable, uneducated people in need of a quick cure. Despite the sometimes comedic or exaggerated advertisements, these medications were often far cheaper and easier to procure than possibly safer, more effective alternatives from a traditional doctor or apothecary. How could so many Americans be duped so easily? With much of the science surrounding medicine still left to be discovered and accepted by the public, unscrupulous businesses continued to profit from deceiving their customers in an unrestricted market.[18]

Photo of a liniment bottle advertised “for Man or Beast” and labeled to give pain relief to ailments in men, cattle, or horses. Courtesy of the Isle of Wight County Museum (2011.168.1).

The Death of Patent Medicines

While England spearheaded research towards a better understanding of how and why people contracted diseases, the American medical community lagged. Many American students attended European medical schools because they were well-established with good reputations compared to their American counterparts, where there were “few laboratories, little decent equipment, and no funds for hiring capable assistants.”[19] Coinciding with the American Civil War (1861-1865), the number of international graduates declined – lowering American access to current medical knowledge. During the mid-19th century, European medical experts contributed to the germ theory, whereby germs (microorganisms) caused illness or disease. Yet the germ theory held little credibility to the American people until the end of the century. Instead, patent medicine manufacturers and sellers made a fortune on citizens’ desperation and subsequently prevented advancements in medical knowledge.[20]

The Johns Hopkins Hospital in the late 19th century. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Beginning in the 1870s, the longstanding skepticism about the germ theory had finally declined in the United States and Europe. New research conducted on diseases by influential scientists who studied bacteria like Louis Pasteur transformed the perceptions on how to treat illnesses. Manufacturers started to mass produce anti-toxins for diseases, including diphtheria and tetanus. Coinciding with these changes, Johns Hopkins University opened in 1876 and was the first American college that ran its research based on the established European model. The nation slowly expanded its medical research capabilities compared to previous decades. By the turn of the century, there was a national initiative led by reformers—labeled as Progressives—who focused on ending corruption and improving medical research and knowledge so that American citizens could make more informed decisions rather than trusting quack doctors and their untested, cure-all elixirs.[21]

This political cartoon celebrates Dr. Harvey Wiley, Chief Chemist of the U.S. Bureau of Chemistry, who led a crusade against patent medicines and their dangers to the public. His work, along with the support of President Theodore Roosevelt, ultimately led to the passage of the Pure Food and Drugs Act in 1906 that outlawed “adulterated and mis-branded food and drugs.” Courtesy of the U.S. Food and Drug Administration.

Despite patent medicine companies rallying against national legislation to regulate products, Progressives like Dr. Harvey Wiley, a chief chemist who led the U.S. Bureau of Chemistry (later named the Food and Drug Administration in 1931) and other reformers pushed to end quack medicine. President Theodore Roosevelt signed into law the Pure Food and Drug Act in 1906 (also known as Dr. Wiley’s law). It demanded that manufacturers label medicines with dangerous ingredients such as opium, morphine, chloroform, alcohol, and cocaine, and it prevented manufacturers from displaying false statements regarding their products. This regulatory law ultimately decreased the sales of patent medicines. Though medical scams and patent medicines still exist in the United States today and prey on those who lack access to proper healthcare or life-saving medicines even in the 21st century, the numbers have greatly decreased.[22]

This medicine bottle represents the decline of the use of cocaine in patent medicines. It reads: “This tablet is the same as our very popular Throat No. 3 except that the Cocaine is omitted. Many practitioners prefer to discontinue the use of Cocaine in any form.” Courtesy of the Isle of Wight County Museum (2022.003.0009).

Learning from the Past

It would be easy to focus on the absurdity of advertisements for quack medicines. Yet to do so would overlook the larger problem. The popularity of dangerous patent medicines demonstrated the need for proper healthcare. A large population of American citizens lacked the resources or funding to afford traditional, educated physicians and treatment, which still plagues many American communities today. Instead, these people obtained the limited medical knowledge available to them and the popular remedies within their society and culture, regardless of their sometimes-dangerous perceptions and side-effects. If you wish to see more of these medicines for yourself, consider a visit the Isle of Wight County Museum in Smithfield, Virginia where you can place yourself in an early American country store and learn more about the popular brands and ingredients in pharmaceuticals.[23] See https://www.historicisleofwight.com/ for more details on events and exhibits.

Acknowledgements

We would like to give a special thanks to CNU history alumna Rachel Popp, curator of the Isle of Wight County Museum, who not only inspired and helped guide this project, but also allowed Brooke to access their artifacts, special collections, and galleries. We would also like to thank Dr. Sara Black, Assistant Professor of History at Christopher Newport University and author of Drugging France: Mind-Altering Medicine in the Long Nineteenth Century, who kindly provided her expertise by peer-reviewing this exhibit.

About the Author

Brooke Patten is a history major and political science and leadership minor at Christopher Newport University (Class of 2024). Brooke completed this exhibit as a service-learning project for the Isle of Wight County Museum in partnership with the CNU Public History Center. In addition to volunteering at many non-profits, she is currently working as an intern at the Mariners’ Museum Library and hopes to pursue a career in archives and special collections.

Notes

[1] J. Worth Estes, “The Pharmacology of Nineteenth-Century Patent Medicines.” Pharmacy in History 30, no. 1 (1988): 3.

[2] Marianna Karamanou, George Panayiotakopoulos, Gregory Tsoucalas, Antonis A. Kousoulis, and George Androutsos, “From Miasmas to Germs: A Historical Approach to Theories of Infectious Disease Transmission” Infez Med 20, no. 1 (2012): 58; Phyllis Allen Richmond, “American Attitudes Toward the Germ Theory of Disease (1860-1880)” Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences 9, no. 4 (1954): 439.

[3] Rebecca Tannenbaum, Health and Wellness in Colonial America, (Greenwood, 2012), 156.

[4] Rebecca Tannenbaum, Health and Wellness in Colonial America, (Greenwood, 2012), 156; United States Department of Agriculture, “Sassafras Plant Guide: Nature Resources Conservation Service,” National Plant Data Center https://plants.usda.gov/DocumentLibrary/plantguide/pdf/pg_saal5.pdf; Plants as Medicine: Lenape Healing Traditions Continue Today | Columbia School of Nursing, Columbia University Irving Medical Center, 20 April 2021; Wilfred William Robbins, Harrington, John Peabody, and Barbara Freire-Marreco, “Ethnobotany of the Tewa Indians,” Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin. 55 (1916): 1–124; Tannenbaum, Health and Wellness in Colonial America, 156.

[5] Tannenbaum, Health and Wellness in Colonial America, 158.

[6] Bob Zebroski, A Brief History of Pharmacy: Humanity’s Search for Wellness (New York: Routledge, 2016), 114.

[7] Ibid.; Tannenbaum, Health and Wellness in Colonial America, 21-22.

[8] Wyndham B. Blanton, Medicine in Virginia in The Eighteenth Century (Richmond: Garrett and Massie, Incorporated, 1931), 437.

[9] Gregory J. Higby, “Professionalism and the Nineteenth-Century American Pharmacist,” Pharmacy in History 28, no. 3 (1986): 117.

[10] Higby, “Professionalism and the Nineteenth-Century American Pharmacist,” 117; Tannenbaum, Health and Wellness in Colonial America, 161.

[11] Zebroski, A Brief History of Pharmacy, 138; Arthur Joseph Cramp, Nostrums and Quackery: Articles on the Nostrum Evil and Quackery (Chicago: Press of American Medical Association, 1912), 9.

Volume 1 of Nostrums and Quackery, American Medical Association

[12] Norman Gevitz, “Domestic Medical Guides and the Drug Trade in Nineteenth-Century America,” Pharmacy in History 32, no. 2 (1990): 51.

[13] Jacques M. Downs, “American Merchants and the China Opium Trade, 1800-1840.” The Business History Review 42, no. 4 (1968): 421; George Young, A Treatise on Opium: Founded upon Practical Observations (A. Millar, 1753), v-vii; Zebroski, A Brief History of Pharmacy, 108-109.

[14] Estes, “The Pharmacology of Nineteenth-Century Patent Medicines,” 4.; Henry Kraemer, Fred B Kilmer, and Johnson & Johnson, Belladonna: A Study of Its History Action and Uses in Medicine (New York: Johnson & Johnson, 1893), 13.

[15] Estes, “The Pharmacology of Nineteenth-Century Patent Medicines,” 12-13.

[16] Estes, “The Pharmacology of Nineteenth-Century Patent Medicines,” 4.

[17] Jurgen Leo Müller, “Love Potions and the Ointment of Witches: Historical Aspects of the Nightshade Alkaloids,” Journal of Toxicology: Clinical Toxicology, 36:6, (1998), 617-627, DOI: 10.3109/15563659809028060; Kraemer, et al. Belladonna: A Study of Its History Action and Uses in Medicine, 38; Estes, “The Pharmacology of Nineteenth-Century Patent Medicines,” 38.

[18] Despite our current medical advancements and state-of-the-art technologies to treat illness and disease, during the pandemic in 2020, the drug hydroxychloroquine became a sought-after remedy to Covid-19.  Medical experts warned against its consumption due to its harmful side-effects, but some Americans ignored the dangers and suffered deadly consequences. https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/coronavirus/in-depth/hydroxychloroquine-treatment-covid-19/art-20555331; Estes, “The Pharmacology of Nineteenth-Century Patent Medicines,” 3-18

[19] Richmond, “American Attitudes Toward the Germ Theory of Disease (1860-1880),” 438.

[20] Steven M. Opal, “A Brief History of Microbiology and Immunology,” Vaccines: A biography (2010): 31-56; Richmond, “American Attitudes Toward the Germ Theory of Disease (1860-1880),” 437.

[21] Richmond, “American Attitudes Toward the Germ Theory of Disease (1860-1880),” 438; Zebroski, A Brief History of Pharmacy, 188; J. M. Cavaillon and S. Legout, “Louis Pasteur: Between Myth and Reality” Biomolecules 12:4 (2022), 596. https://doi.org/10.3390/biom12040596

[22] Estes, “The Pharmacology of Nineteenth-Century Patent Medicines,” 3; Zebroski, A Brief History of Pharmacy, 212.

[23] Estes, “The Pharmacology of Nineteenth-Century Patent Medicines,” 4.

Inside the Balloon: A Snapshot of Lee Hall Balloon School at Camp Eustis During World War I

Inside the Balloon: A Snapshot of Lee Hall Balloon School at Camp Eustis During World War I

By:

Anna Lynn Thornsberry, B.A. in History, Christopher Newport University

Sheri Shuck-Hall, Ph.D., Professor of History, Christopher Newport University

World War I, known as the Great War—the war to end all wars—was an unprecedented international conflict. Beginning in 1914, the war pitted the Allied and Central Powers against each other with shocking numbers of casualties, both military and civilian. The United States entered the war in 1917, and it was Newport News, Virginia that boomed and expanded because of this global battle. The city was strategically situated; it had a large harbor, excellent rail transportation, and a suitable shipbuilding facility. The government therefore purchased land to build military training facilities in Newport News, one named Camp Eustis.[1]  

Building a Balloon School at Camp Eustis

With no immediate end to World War I in sight, the U.S. government created Camp Eustis, named after General Abraham Eustis, a veteran of the War of 1812 who founded the Artillery School of Practice at Fort Monroe. When choosing the land, location was an important factor in the government’s decision; it had to be close to Fort Monroe and possess qualities that could safeguard national defense. They eventually purchased Mulberry Island to transform into Camp Eustis. Mulberry Island attracted the government because of its proximity to the Warwick and James Rivers. It was the only location that had land and water access, which allowed for the men to train in surveillance over both—a rare and unique quality. The camp also had access to rail, the Lee Hall Train Depot (build in 1883), which was part of the C&O Railway on the peninsula.[2]

United States. Army. Corps of Engineers, “Mulberry Island, Virginia, Camp Abraham Eustis: special military map.” [Washington, DC]: U.S. Geological Survey, 1918. Mulberry Island, Virginia, Camp Abraham Eustis : special military map | Library of Congress (loc.gov)

Camp Eustis accommodated over 20,000 soldiers, who trained regularly, learned a variety of skills, and then left for the Western Front at the Point of Embarkation nearby. The main purpose of building the camp was for an artillery firing range and training schools, including the Army Air Service Balloon Observation School, later named the Lee Hall Balloon School due to the camp’s proximity to Lee Hall Mansion and the surrounding village. Coincidentally, Lee Hall was home to one of the first observation balloon launches. During the Civil War, a hot air balloon was launched by Confederate forces on the land between Lee Hall and Wynne’s Mill.[3]   

Site of the first hot air balloon observation launch at Lee Hall Mansion. Visitors to the site today can see the spot from the grounds. Anna Lynn Thornsberry, November 2021.

The Lee Hall Balloon School, founded in 1918, taught soldiers balloon observation and artillery skills. Little did they know that the war would end later that year. While the balloon school stayed open for a few more years, it eventually closed in the 1920s. Despite its short-lived time as a balloon school, Camp Eustis, renamed Fort Eustis in 1923, would go on to be a central part of Newport News and would have a significant impact on the United States Army Air Service and Transportation during World War II and the ensuing Cold War.[4]  

A group of Lee Hall Balloon School students pose for a picture. One student is reading Current History, a magazine started in World War I that provided in-depth coverage of the war. Group picture. 1918. Photograph. Virginia War Museum.

The cooks of the 22nd Balloon Company pose with the turkeys they are preparing for Thanksgiving dinner. Thanksgiving-1918. 1918. Photograph. Virginia War Museum.

Wartime Balloons

America’s first manned hot air hydrogen gas balloon flight launched from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania in 1793. Hot air balloons became a significant part of reconnaissance when the Union and the Confederacy used them for surveillance during the American Civil War. By World War I, technology had advanced, and balloons (commonly known as dirigibles, or rigid airships like the German Zeppelins) had even more versatility. The use of aircraft for military purposes such as bombing, strafing, and observation of enemy movements grew in popularity, beginning with the Wright brother’s first flight in 1903 to the first use of fighter planes in World War I. Aerial balloon observation found its place in the war for its ability to be a mobile observation station from a substantial height that could be taken to and used on the battlefield. The observations provided insight into the condition of the battlefield and could help commanders be aware of their current situation. Observation balloons could also be used to gain a general understanding of what artillery firing had occurred during the battle. In the right weather conditions, these balloons would take two men up so that they could record their findings and report them back to their commanders. Below are three images are taken from the Lee Hall Balloon School during observation.[5]  

   

Aerial Observation Picture-Wooded area. 1918. Photograph. Virginia War Museum.

Aerial Observation Picture-Town. 1918. Photograph. Virginia War Museum.

Aerial Observation Picture-City. 1918. Photograph. Virginia War Museum.

During World War I, aerial observation started moving away from using hot air balloons and instead began to favor kite balloons. A kite balloon is a long cylindrical balloon, with two rounded ends. An airbag inside the balloon, called a ballonet, fills it with gas and helps to maintain its shape. Captive balloons, which are balloons tethered to the ground, sit at a thirty-to-forty-degree angle from the ground. Like a kite, they face the wind at a diagonal, which is how they got their name. Balloon observers would be stationed in the cage, which was a basket that hung underneath the balloon made from woven willow and bamboo. At the rear end of the balloon and on both sides, sails prevented the tail from dragging the balloon down, and kept it stable.[6]    

A Lee Hall Balloon School soldier stands inside a partially inflated kite balloon. Inside the balloon. 1918. Photograph. Virginia War Museum.   

The crew for a kite balloon included a balloon officer, pilot, officer in charge, commander to the ground station, and a ground crew. The balloon officer was the man stationed in the car of the balloon and was responsible for taking the reports of what he observed. The pilot of the car squad helped with the installation and maintenance of the telephone line and other equipment. He also assisted the balloon officer. The officer in charge supervised and instructed the workers on the balloon, and the commander of the ground station led the men of the ground crew. This group consisted of at least forty-five men—eight groups with five men and one leader. They were divided up, and each group was responsible for the balloon, the car, or the mooring cables, which kept the balloon connected to the ground.[7]

The balloon officer and observer faced many challenges as they were responsible for making the report. Many obstacles made it difficult for them to see clearly or led them to misinterpret the scene, which could cost many soldiers’ lives. Moreover, a wooded area with many trees prevented the observer from getting a clear view of the ground. He also had to worry about the position of the sun. Ideally, the sun would be located behind the observer to avoid a backlit picture. Dust and smoke, as well as other dark backgrounds, made it difficult to see. Even if the view was clear, troops that were well-hidden or not moving could be very difficult to spot. Below is an image of the grounds crew standing ready next to a kite balloon.[8]    

The crew of a kite balloon stand ready and at attention. Ground crew and kite balloon. 1918. Photograph. Virginia War Museum.

The Lee Hall Balloon School was one of only three schools of its kind. Of these three, Lee Hall was the only one to offer land and water observation training. Neither balloon observation nor artillery firing was a new concept. Yet Lee Hall Balloon School was the first to combine them. Students at the Lee Hall Balloon School also became familiar with using the Holt tractor. Holt tractors were used to carry heavy loads of artillery and ammunition that would originally take twelve horses to manage. By the time the war ended, thousands of Holt tractors were used by Allied forces, including those at the Lee Hall Balloon School. Pictures taken in 1918, such as the one below, show the soldiers using this piece of equipment. One of these tractors can be seen on display today at the Virginia War Museum.[9]  

  

Holt tractor. 1918. Photograph. Virginia War Museum.

Legacies

World War I and the creation of Camp Eustis played a significant part in the expansion of Newport News, but the city’s progress did not come without sacrifices on the part of the community. Out of all the land purchased by the government for the formation of training camps, none displaced as many families as Camp Eustis. The government purchased 5,672 acres of land on Mulberry Island for $538,000. This displaced 200 families, the majority of whom were African Americans. In 1918, roughly sixty percent of the land on Mulberry Island was owned by African American families. The government gave the people thirty days to move as much as they could from their homes. Unfortunately, many people were forced to leave their deceased loved ones behind as most of the families living on Mulberry Island had been there for generations and had created family gravesites. There are currently nine of these known abandoned gravesites. After construction of Camp Eustis began, the abandoned homes were used by the army for artillery training.[10]  

Before World War I, Newport News was simply a small town in Virginia. However, the impact of the war would elevate Newport News to a modern city. In 1917, the rapid population growth required the government to provide better utilities, highways, and infrastructure to its citizens. Due to its location, Newport News became a massive point of embarkation, as thousands of soldiers were shipped off to Europe to fight in the war. The increased population and the need for more facilities led to job opportunities, and even more population growth. Eventually, as the numbers reached ten thousand, real estate prices doubled. World War I led to the construction of the first highway on the peninsula, which went from Fort Monroe to Newport News, and on to Richmond. In 1923, Camp Eustis became a permanent fixture of Newport News and changed its name to Fort Eustis. Embarkation, training schools, and the need for new infrastructure caused the population of the area to increase from 26,246 to 47,013 in only ten years. With the success of Camp Eustis and the Lee Hall Balloon School, Newport News transformed into the busy city we know today.[11]

Folks visiting Newport News or residents of Hampton Roads can all enjoy learning about the history of our city. To learn more about Camp Eustis and the Lee Hall Balloon School and view a real Holt Tractor, please stop by the Virginia War Museum.

Acknowledgements

We would like to give special thanks to Jerry Coggeshall, Registrar at the Virginia War Museum, and CNU History Alumnus, J. Michael Moore, Curator at Lee Hall and Historic Endview, who gave their time and expertise to this project, as well as Dr. Chris McDaid, Archaeologist/Cultural Resources Manager at Fort Eustis, who provided invaluable resources for this research. We also greatly appreciate these historical experts and practitioners who peer-reviewed this exhibit.

About the Author

Anna Lynn Thornsberry received her BA in history and museum studies at Christopher Newport University in 2023. She completed this exhibit as a service-learning project for the Virginia War Museum. She also interned at the Mariners’ Museum and currently works at the American Revolution Museum at Yorktown. She plans to pursue a career in museum education.

Notes


[1] John V. Quarstein and Parke Rouse, Newport News: A Centennial History (Newport News, VA: City of Newport News, 1996), 7-8, 87. For information on Newport News Shipbuilding and Huntington Ingalls Industries, see: ABOUT US – Company | HII

[2] Interview with J. Michael Moore, Lee Hall Mansion; N.a. “History of Fort Eustis.” Joint Base Langley-Eustis. United States of America Department of Defense. Accessed 20 September 2022, https://www.jble.af.mil/About-Us/Fort-Eustis-History/.

[3] Interview with J. Michael Moore, Lee Hall Mansion, Newport News, Virginia.

[4] Interview with J. Michael Moore, Lee Hall Mansion, Newport News, Virginia. For a concise history of Fort Eustis, see: History of Fort Eustis (af.mil)

[5] Interview with J. Michael Moore, Lee Hall Mansion; Emil Widmer, Military Observation Balloons (Captive and Free): A Complete Treatise on Their Manufacture, Equipment, Inspection, and Handling, with Special Instructions for the Training of a Field Balloon Company (New York: D. Van Nostrand Company, 1917), 80.

[6] Widmer, “Military Observation Balloons (Captive and Free): A Complete Treatise on Their Manufacture, Equipment, Inspection, and Handling, with Special Instructions for the Training of a Field Balloon Company,” 1-4; Lee Kennett, The First Air War 1914-1918, (New York: The Free Press, 1991), 6.

[7] Widmer, “Military Observation Balloons,” 28, 81.

[8] Widmer, “Military Observation Balloons,” 28, 81.

[9] N.a. “History of Fort Eustis,” Joint Base Langley-Eustis (United States of America Department of Defense), accessed 14 November 2021, https://www.jble.af.mil/About-Us/Fort-Eustis-History/; Artillery, Virginia War Museum.

[10] Pete Regan, Bound in a Brilliant Tide: The History of Mulberry Island, Virginia (Air Force Civil Engineer Center, U.S. Air Force), 32-34; n.a., “Approves Allotment for Balloon School,” The Evening Star, 26 August 1918, (accessed 17 November 2021).

[11] John V. Quarstein and Parke Rouse, “Newport News: A Centennial History,” 7-8, 88, 92, 94.