Why The Treaty Of Paris Left Lingering Questions

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Treaty of Paris

Marinus Willett, ca 1791, by Ralph Earl, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Colonel Marinus Willett sloshed through the icy marsh with growing concern. It had been two hours since midnight. They should have seen the fort by now.

Even as the Treaty of Paris was being crafted to end the Revolutionary War, the frigid night of February 9, 1783, gave way to the frozen morning of February 10. On New York’s western frontier, Willett found himself leading one final secret mission for George Washington.

Willett pushed his way to the head of the column. “Where’s the guide?” he asked. The lead soldier shrugged. They had not seen the guide in quite some time and were doing their best to follow his tracks. The soldier pointed forward as the last light of the setting moon shone upon the footprints in the silvery, shadowed snow ahead of them.

With urgent impatience, Willett hurriedly followed the freshly made steps. It took him thirty minutes to catch up to the Oneida scout. The Indian stood like a statue, frozen as the snow around him. He was scared. Worse than that, he was lost.

Washington’s words reverberated in Willett’s head. “You can always waste time, but never recover it… in such an enterprise as yours, want of time will be a certain defeat.”1 The misdirection delayed them. They were late. The element of surprise was gone.

Willett was forced to abort and return to Fort Rensselaer.

*     *     *     *     *

George Washington wanted one last victory before the war officially ended. With the defeat of Cornwallis at Yorktown in October 1781, the British lost any taste for further fighting. In March 1782, Parliament effectively abandoned further offensive operations in America. With the exception of their Indian allies, the year remained relatively quiet.

Yet, there was no formal peace treaty.

Was the war really over?

In Philadelphia, many assumed the clash with King George was coming to an end. Along New York’s murky western frontier, however, such certainty remained elusive.

British regulars may have been quiet in 1782, but that didn’t mean the soldiers weren’t at work. They busied themselves rebuilding Fort Ontario. Abandoned in 1778, early in the Revolutionary War, it was located on the east bank of the mouth of the Oswego River, high above Lake Ontario. Clearly, the British weren’t taking chances. Whatever diplomats might eventually agree upon, military planners on the frontier still prepared for war. At a minimum, they intended to protect their lucrative fur trade.

The possibility of renewed conflict remained. Washington also wished to take no chances. With his army camped in New Windsor, New York, the Continental’s Commander-in-Chief decided upon one final military gamble. His target: Fort Ontario.

The prominent fortress represented Britain’s closest and most formidable stronghold on the frontier. Unlike Fort Niagara, which guarded the Confederacy’s western gateway, Fort Ontario lay deep within the former territory of the Six Nations, just beyond New York’s western-most settlements.

In January 1783, Washington developed a plan to surprise the British and take Fort Ontario. He selected Colonel Marinus Willett to lead the operation. Willett was in command when his troops pursued and killed “the notorious Captain Walter Butler” on October 20, 1781, just ten days after the surrender of Cornwallis.2 So vilified was Butler that it’s been said news of his death brought more cheers in the Mohawk Valley than Washington’s victory at Yorktown.3

Despite the apparent finality of Cornwallis’ defeat, Washington wasn’t going to be lulled into a false sense of security. He presented the Colonel with strict instructions to operate under sealed orders. The fewer who knew the purpose of the mission, the better they could conceal it from the enemy.

Alas, an errant Oneida scout lost his way guiding Willett’s troops to the fort. Forced to forsake the mission, Washington’s hand-picked man returned to Fort Rensselaer and soon learned that American leaders had received Lafayette’s letter reporting a treaty had been agreed to.

Was Lafayette negotiating on America’s behalf? The short answer is “No.” That responsibility fell to Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, John Jay, and Henry Laurens. The longer answer is a bit more complicated. If you thought the competing European claims and the Royal mess surrounding Western New York were complex, ending the Revolutionary War required just as many moving parts.

For peace to become reality, not only did Great Britain and the United States have to agree, but so did France (hence, Lafayette) and Spain.

(Did you notice who was missing from the negotiating table?)

It was the preliminary multinational agreement reached in January 1783 that Lafayette reported to American leaders. The formal Treaty of Paris would be finalized later that year and officially ratified in 1784.

Much to America’s delight, George III agreed to cede all British territory south of the Great Lakes, including lands extending to the Mississippi River. Naturally, this would include Western New York.

On paper.

It’s one thing to draw a map showing boundaries. It’s quite another thing to turn that map into reality. And for the Greater Western New York region, that reality remained as murky as the night of February 9th was to Colonel Willett.

For one thing, the British still occupied their chain of forts within what was now nominally the United States of America. These included both Fort Ontario and Fort Niagara.

This wasn’t an oversight. Article 7 of the Treaty of Paris specifically said “his Britannic Majesty shall with all convenient speed…withdraw… from every Post, Place and Harbour…”4 The wording in the Treaty was clear. Despite this, when asked to comply, General Sir Frederick Haldimand, Governor of the Province of Quebec and Commander-in-Chief of British forces in North America, stated that he was aware of the Treaty but had not yet received orders to evacuate the forts.5

Whether he admitted it or not, Haldimand had several reasons for this delaying tactic. Occupying the forts provided the British with leverage over the Americans.6 It protected British trade interests.7 It helped ameliorate the restless Iroquois who felt betrayed when the British ceded lands they felt were theirs.8 Finally, the British understood the United States was too weak to enforce the Treaty9, so there was little downside in breaching it.

The Treaty changed the maps, but it didn’t change the reality on the ground. The British still held the forts. Their former allies, particularly the Seneca, remained a powerful presence on the frontier. There also remained the question of the precise boundary along the Niagara River.

This reality posed a challenge to the new nation of America. A new nation bound by the fragile Articles of Confederation. The Articles offered little money and little authority. In short, they provided the United States with no practical ability to enforce its frontier claims.

Not that New York State was in any better position. In fact, it was worse.

By the end of the Revolutionary War, most of the other competing colonial claims for this territory had been resolved. Massachusetts, however, continued to rely on the wording of its provincial charter. The Bay State insisted those provisions still conveyed rights in the Greater Western New York region.

The Treaty of Paris may have settled the war between Britain and the United States, but it left too many matters unresolved. For the coastal cities, independence had been indisputably achieved. For the frontier of Western New York, it only created more questions.

And a vast void of authority.

Into that void rushed old claims, forgotten charters, and competing visions of who possessed the right to the frontier. One dispute in particular would shape the future of Western New York forever.

1 Willett, William M., “Washington Letter to Willett, February 2d, 1783,” A Narrative of the Military Actions of Colonel Marinus Willett, G.&C.&H. Carvill, New York, 1831, p.147.
2 Halsey, Francis Whiting, The Old New York Frontier, Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York, 1902, p. 306.
3 David A. Charters, “BUTLER, WALTER,” in Dictionary of Canadian Biography, vol. 4, University of Toronto/Université Laval, 2003–, https://www.biographi.ca/en/bio/butler_walter_4E.html, retrieved June 8, 2026.
4 Article 7, Treaty of Paris (1783), National Archives, https://www.archives.gov/milestone-documents/treaty-of-paris, retrieved June 3, 2026.
5 Collections of the New York Historical Society for the year 1878, Publication Fund Series Vol XI, New York, 1879, p. 193.
6 Broadhead, John Romeyn, Documents Relative to the Colonial History of the State of New York V10, E.B. O’Callaghan, ed, Weed, Parsons & Co., 1858, p. 1004.
7 Sessional Papers Volume 5, Second Session of the Parliament of the Dominion of Canada, A. Senecal, Ottawa, 1888, p. xx.
8 Stone, William L., Life of Joseph Brant – Thayendenegea Including the Border Wars of the American Rev, H.&E. Phinney, Cooperstown, 1838, p. 271.
9 Ibid., p. 263.

Washington’s Gamble – The Sullivan–Clinton Campaign

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Washington’s GambleWashington’s Gamble began when frontier war threatened the survival of the Revolution itself. The growing violence on the western frontiers of Pennsylvania and New York left him little choice. It was one he had hoped to avoid. But it was the response demanded by Congress. The steady stream of reports from the frontier forced them to act.

Zebulon Butler, who led the defense (and retreat) during the Wyoming Massacre, attested to continued incursions. In a letter to General Hand on March 23, 1779, the Pennsylvanian wrote, “…after severe skirmishing for two hours and a half, the enemy carried off sixty head of horned cattle, 20 horses, and shot my riding horse, which they could not catch, and burnt five barns that were partly full of grain and hay, and 10 houses, which the inhabitants had deserted. They shot a number of hogs and sheep, that they left lying.” He asked that the information be relayed to General Washington.1

Even before Butler’s letter to Hand, Congress had received letters from the governors of Connecticut, Pennsylvania, and New York. On February 25, 1779, they appointed their Commander-in-Chief to raise five companies of rangers. The resolution directed Washington to Continue Reading “Washington’s Gamble – The Sullivan–Clinton Campaign”

Democracy Dies On The Blackboard

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democracy dies“Democracy dies in darkness.” When the Washington Post formally adopted this phrase in 2017, critics immediately questioned the implication hidden within it. Why?

Perhaps because the phrase originated in a judicial ruling that echoed a modern myth about the role of newspapers in our country’s history. Judge Damon J. Keith of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit wrote in his opinion for the court in Detroit Free Press v. Ashcroft, 303 F.3d 681 (6th Cir. 2002): “Democracies die behind closed doors. The First Amendment, through a free press, protects the people’s right to know that their government acts fairly, lawfully, and accurately in deportation proceedings. When government begins closing doors, it selectively controls information rightfully belonging to the people.”

The opinion, and many subsequent interpretations of it, overstate the importance of Continue Reading “Democracy Dies On The Blackboard”

America’s Forgotten First Frontier

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America’s forgotten first frontierBefore America looked west, it looked here.

Before the wild wilderness of Alaska, before the trans-Mississippi west, even before the Appalachian forests and the Cumberland Gap, the Greater Western New York region stood as America’s First Frontier. It was a rugged place where individuals could test the fruits of its promise—and sometimes discover its limits.

But it was tamed.
Quickly tamed.
Too quick for history books to notice.

And so, it slipped quietly out of the national memory.

Until a sportscaster unintentionally reframed its true origin story.

When Chris Berman proclaimed, “Nobody circles the wagons like the Buffalo Bills,” he wasn’t merely referring to a professional football team. He was describing a people. Perhaps without realizing it, he was echoing the rich experience of the region’s earliest pioneers—men and women who braved brutal winters to build permanent homes in the post-Revolutionary War virgin arboreal woodlands and lush valleys of the Greater Western New York Region.

Far beyond the settled coastal cities of the Atlantic, this was the first true frontier of the new nation. Unlike what would later become Kentucky and Ohio, it lay within an original state rather than a federal territory. That distinction mattered more than history remembers.

Europeans called Western New York “terra incognita” during the colonial era. It was, however, home to the Seneca and Cayuga, two member nations of the Iroquois Confederacy. The French were the first Europeans to pass through. Their explorers camped here. Their missionaries converted here. Their soldiers fought and built forts here.

But they didn’t settle here.

That omission was not accidental. Western New York was too valuable to ignore—and too dangerous to control without alliances.

It became a critical artery in the economy of New France, later brokered by the Dutch, and ultimately claimed by the British. That final transfer was secured not by force alone, but through alliance with the Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy.

The Seneca served as “Keepers of the Western Door.” Ostensibly defensive, that door became a gateway to expansion. During the Beaver Wars, the Confederacy used it to eliminate the Erie tribe and to push its Algonquin adversaries off the map. This left the lands west of the Genesee River wholly vacated a century before the Revolutionary War.

The consequences were profound. French trappers lost their allies. British traders gained control of the valuable fur routes along the fertile waters that flow through western New York and beyond. And America’s First Frontier became one of the earliest battlegrounds for European supremacy in upper North America.

The Western New York region has always been a strategic crossroads.

Long before French missionaries first set foot in the New World, the feud between the Confederacy and its Iroquoian and Algonquin neighbors had been ongoing. The arrival of the Europeans didn’t change the dynamic. It intensified it.

At one time or another, all four Old World powers laid claim to the region. Ambitious Spanish claims, the French fur trade, the Netherlands river-based financial colonies, and the British desire for Empire, all collided here (and elsewhere).

Spain’s claim existed only on paper. They never came close. The Dutch, on the other hand, made the unfortunate decision to choose the Erie as their partners. When the Cat Nation disappeared, New Netherlands shortly followed, mostly without a fight. Mostly.

The French and the British, however, did what the French and the British always did. They went to war. Whether you call it “The French and Indian War” (as North Americans do) or the “Seven Years’ War” (as Europeans do), its outcome determined the fate of American colonies.

Decades later, before Horace Greeley championed Manifest Destiny when his New York Tribune pronounced, “Go West, young man,” New Englanders loaded up their wagons and headed down the ancient Central Trail of the Iroquois Confederacy. They looked past Geneva, at that time, the westernmost settlement in New York State (which itself became a point of controversy).

The Greater Western New York Region promised opportunity and risk in equal measure. It became the proving ground for a new nation’s first attempts to settle undeveloped land.

But it was more than that.

As George Washington quickly learned, America’s first frontier wasn’t just about the pioneers; in true mythic form, this west also posed diplomatic challenges regarding the conquered peoples who had previously claimed the land. The dance between state and federal power in the infant United States proved precarious. Fortunately, Washington’s wisdom and restraint helped protect both the State of New York and the Seneca Nation.

Still, uncertainty lingered.

Though technically part of New York State, the western portion of this original colony lacked clearly defined boundaries. Not until the War of 1812 would the dispute of the “Mile Strip” on the Niagara River be resolved.

Before then, however, the future of the Greater Western New York Region was cloudy at best. It stood on the cusp of history, on the edge of possibility.

Would that history be British, as part of Upper Canada?
Would it remain tethered to America and New York State?
Or would it become an independent state, following Vermont’s example?

Indeed, within a decade of the Paris Treaty that ended the Revolutionary War, no fewer than three attempts were made to separate Greater Western New York from New York State. What was the motivation for this? Why did they fail? How did state and local leaders respond? And what does that response reveal about the fragile architecture of the early republic?

Those unanswered questions are not historical curiosities.

They are the central mystery of our own backyard.

As we celebrate America’s 250th, perhaps now is a good time to rediscover a chapter of our past that unfolded quietly, quickly, and almost invisibly.

After all, history is not what survives in a bland textbook. It is more alive than that. More contingent. More human. And to the attentive ear, the all-seeing eye, and the genuinely curious, it often reveals far more than we were ever taught to notice.

A history too often skipped in classrooms.
A history unfamiliar to many elected officials.
A history even seasoned historians sometimes overlook.

It’s the history of America’s forgotten first frontier.

And it leads, inevitably, to one enduring question that can finally be revealed to you:

Why did Vermont become a state—
but Greater Western New York did not?

To understand why that question was ever asked—and why it was never answered—we must return to the moments when authority was uncertain, allegiance was fluid, and the future of this frontier was still undecided.

Interested? Have you joined the 1786 Project yet? Go to http://1786project.com/ to access cool stuff about the history of the Greater Western New York Region! (And find out how to participate in the hidden treasure hunt!)

From Tun To Tripoli, Happy 250th U.S. Marines!

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250th U.S. Marine Corps

Samuel Nicholas, First Commissioned Marine Officer, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Happy 250th U.S. Marines! Two hundred fifty years of storied tradition and patriotic inspiration. Wow. If only they made a movie about them. Or a TV series.

I always wanted to be a Marine. I don’t know why. Maybe it was the dress blues. That’s the uniform I wanted for my G.I. Joe. I was just the right age to get the first run of G.I. Joe action figures. Mine was the “Action Soldier.” It came in Government Issue regular army green fatigues, not the camo fatigues of the Marine version. Still, I insisted he was a Marine. My family allowed it; after all, I was only five years old. (FYI: My uncles and great uncles were in the Army and Air Force. They didn’t seem to mind.)

Naturally, I still have my Gomer Pyle U.S.M.C. lunchbox. The thermos was broken when we purchased it. Those were the days when it was hard to return things. Besides, I would never use it as the school sold milk for lunch. To prevent confusion, my brother got the Rat Patrol lunchbox. His thermos worked. Maybe he used it once or twice.

Back then, the Marines weren’t yet 200 years old. This year, on November 10, 2025, will be the 250th birthday of the Marines. At least that’s the official birthday according to the official website of the United States Marine Corps.1

It’s true that the Second Continental Congress passed a resolution establishing the “American Marines” on the cold afternoon of Friday, November 10, 1775. The resolution reads plain as day (from the official journal):

“Resolved, That two Battalions of marines be raised, consisting of one Colonel, two Lieutenant Colonels, two Majors, and other officers as usual in other regiments; and that they consist of an equal number of privates with other battalions; that particular care be taken, that no persons be appointed to office, or enlisted into said Battalions, but such as are good seamen, or so acquainted with maritime affairs as to be able to serve to advantage by sea when required; that they be enlisted and commissioned to serve for and during the present war between Great Britain and the colonies, unless dismissed by order of Congress: that they be distinguished by the names of the first and second battalions of American Marines, and that they be considered as part of the number which the continental Army before Boston is ordered to consist of.”2

Two entries just before that order hint at a bolder strategy. They reveal an intriguing story that, if it worked, might have shortened the war and pushed America’s border farther north.

The committee responsible for offering the resolution spent a week working on it. It was in response to a letter received from the inhabitants of Passamaquoddy, Nova Scotia, who “applied to the Congress to be admitted into the association of the North Americans, for the preservation of their rights and liberties”3

The first resolution authorized sending two persons “to Nova Scotia to enquire into the state of that colony, the disposition of the inhabitants towards the American cause…”4 The second directed General George Washington to attack Nova Scotia should he judge it “practicable and expedient.”5 Congress then ordered a copy of the three resolutions to be sent to Washington.

The General was miffed. As politely as possible, he returned his reply to Congress on November 19, 1775. He wrote, “I beg leave to submit it to the consideration of Congress, if those two battalions can be formed out of this army, whether this is a time to weaken our lines, by employing any of the officers appointed to defend them on any other service? … would it not be eligible to raise two battalions of marines in New York and Philadelphia, where there must be numbers of sailors now unemployed?”6

Congress received and read the letter on November 27. By November 30, they agreed with Washington and passed a resolution to suspend the raising of two battalions of Marines from the army.7 Oddly, they likely made their decision on November 28. That was the day they commissioned Samuel Nicholas as the first officer of the Marines.8

With an amphibious assault of Nova Scotia off the books, attention turned elsewhere. The British suspected the Marines would target New York or Boston. The Marines made the move in Nassau. Not the one in Long Island, but the one in the Bahamas. They seized the British armaments there without firing a single shot.

Legend has it that Nicholas was responsible for recruiting the first few companies of Marines at Tun Tavern. It’s more likely he used his connections with the Schuykill Fishing Company and the Fox Hunting Club to recruit. A look at the membership rolls of those two organizations shows some overlap with the first group of Marines.9

After the success of Nassau, Nicholas returned to Philadelphia. In the summer of 1776, Congress tasked him to recruit four companies of Marines. He did something smart. He recruited the recruiters. One of those men, Robert Mullen, inherited Tun Tavern (a.k.a. “sign of the Old Tun”10) from his father in 1775, Thomas “Mullan” (yes, the names were spelled differently in the primary source material).11 Other contemporary sources spell Robert’s last name as “Mullan.”12

Mullen (or “Mullan”) not only ran the Tun, but he was also a member of the Masonic lodge that met there. Between being an innkeeper and active in a fraternal organization with more than 300 members, Mullen was the perfect man to recruit Marines. 13

Many histories (including that of the Marine Corps itself) incorrectly associate Mullen and the Tun Tavern with the November 10, 1775, birthdate of the Marines. Some even place Nicholas at the Tun, but he clearly recruited from his sportsman clubs. He may have also recruited from the Tun, especially since it was located on Water Street and frequented by the many sailors from the nearby docks.

While the Tun may be legend—or, more accurately, misplaced history—the shores of Tripoli ring true. Following the end of the Revolutionary War in 1783, Congress disbanded the Continental Marines. Their retirement was brief due to the harassment by the French; Congress reestablished the Marines as the United States Marine Corps on July 11, 1798.

The U.S.M.C. earned its stripes—actually, its sword—during the Barbary Wars in 1805. 1st Lieutenant Presley O’Bannon and only eight Marines (but with 500 mercenaries), captured the city of Derna, just outside of Tripoli. Following that battle, the defeated Ottoman Prince presented O’Bannon with a Mameluke sword. Twenty years later, a replica of that sword became part of the ceremonial dress of all Marine officers.

That victory also inspired the line “shores of Tripoli” in the Marine Hymn (which wasn’t made official until 1929). Speaking of songs, “Semper Fidelis” is not only the motto of the U.S.M.C. (adopted in 1883), but it is also the title of the official Marine march. Composed by John Philip Sousa in 1889, it’s featured prominently during the movie Patton. Ironically, the movie is about the Third Army, not about Marines.

It’s funny. I recently shared the Tun Tavern story with an audience. I started by asking any Marines to raise their hands. No one did. Among the several dozen sitting before me, there were plenty of veterans, just no Marines. I guess they really are “the few.”

I never became a Marine. The closest I came—vicariously at least—was my freshman year college roommate. I was such a great roommate that he left school and joined the Marines. He served in Lebanon (but was reassigned before the Beirut barracks attack). Got his picture in Newsweek in some anonymous B-roll shot.

He’s one of the few.

And he’s proud of it.

1 https://www.marines.mil/Marines250/ [Retrieved November 1, 2025]
2 Journals of the Continental Congress 1174-1789, Volume III. 1775 September 21 – December 30, Washington, 1905, p.348 Journals of the Continental Congress, 1774-1789 [Retrieved November 1, 2025]
3 Ibid., p. 316
4 Ibid.
5 Ibid.
6 Ford, Worthington Chauncey, ed., The Writings of George Washington Vol. III. 1775-1776, G.P. Putnam’s Sons, The Knickerbocker Press, 1889, p225-226
7 Journals of the Continental Congress 1174-1789, Volume III. 1775 September 21 – December 30, p.393
8 Image of actual commission letter from the Marine Corps Museum. https://destroyerhistory.org/fletcherclass/0_449nicholas/commission.html [Retrieved November 2, 2025]
9 A History of the Schuylkill Fishing Company of the State in Schuylkill, 1732-1888, Philadelphia: Members of the State in Schuylkill, 1889, pp. 367, 407.
10 The Pennsylvania Gazette, Wednesday, September 6, 1770, p.4
11 The Pennsylvania Journal and Weekly Advertiser, Wednesday, April 26, 1775, p.4
12 The Pennsylvania Gazette, Wednesday, May 10, 1775, p.5
13 Moore, Rev. Henry D., The Masonic Review, Vol. 77 No. 1, February 1892, p.154

Sails of Discovery, Anchors of Defense Celebrate Two Birthdays, One Destiny

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U.S. NavyThe U.S. Navy celebrates its 250th birthday this Monday, October 13. Coincidentally, that day also marks the official celebration of Christopher Columbus’s discovery of America on October 12, 1492. These two events, centuries apart, show how this month celebrates our nation’s connection to the water, first through exploration and then through protection.

Columbus has long been revered as a patron saint of our country, long before he became the symbol of pride for Italian immigrants. By the 400th anniversary of his landing in 1892, you’d be hard-pressed not to find evidence of Continue Reading “Sails of Discovery, Anchors of Defense Celebrate Two Birthdays, One Destiny”

Eerie Echoes Today of Daniel Shays, the Forgotten Patriot Who Sparked the Constitution

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Daniel ShaysDid you know that we have a heroic Revolutionary War veteran buried right here in our own backyard? Well, not precisely our backyard, but close enough to call it that.

His heroism, however, isn’t limited to fighting against the British. He took the ideals espoused by the Founding Fathers to heart. So much so that he felt it was his duty to promote those ideals at great personal sacrifice. In fact, the reason he died in Livingston County is that he was chased out of Massachusetts. He knew his family would be safe here in America’s First Frontier.

Without Daniel Shays, America might not have its Constitution. The story behind his plight so worried George Washington that America’s future first president came out of retirement and agreed to preside over the Constitutional Convention.

What follows is an excerpt from a chapter in my book, 50 Hidden Gems of Greater Western New York (Pandamensional Solutions, 2012), that reveals the true story behind this Revolutionary War veteran. It may have happened more than two centuries ago, but as you read the events, don’t be surprised if it seems this could happen (and maybe has happened) even today…Continue Reading “Eerie Echoes Today of Daniel Shays, the Forgotten Patriot Who Sparked the Constitution”

The Force of 1776 Enlightens Graduates Choosing New Paths

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1776 Enlightenment

This is a high-resolution image of the United States Declaration of Independence. This image is a version of the 1823 William Stone facsimile — Stone may well have used a wet pressing process (that removed ink from the original document onto a contact sheet for the purpose of making the engraving). via Wikimedia Commons

To the Class of 2025: Congratulations, you’ve just inherited the most powerful force in human history! As we celebrate America’s 250th anniversary, let us also honor your passage into self-determination. Like our Founding Fathers in 1776, Enlightenment principles guide you.

Of course, you might not think the Enlightenment is particularly relevant today, or to you personally. The dazzling philosophy that once sparked revolutions seems dated by today’s standards. However, your enlightenment is real, very personal, and no less profound.

Consider those graduating with you. The moment you share isn’t just about the diploma a school administrator hands you. It’s about the door that’s opening to reveal a brilliant light, beaming with a sudden surge of knowledge, freedom, and potential.

Sound familiar? It should.

The Light Side of 1776 Enlightenment

If you see why America’s 250th excites us, you’ll recognize the same ideals that powered our Continue Reading “The Force of 1776 Enlightens Graduates Choosing New Paths”

The Flame of Duty: U.S. Army Celebrates 250 Years of Enduring Spirit, Service, and Unity

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U.S. ArmyWhat makes a farmer grab a musket and risk it all?

Before the sun set on April 19, 1775, the rag-tag ruffians couldn’t believe what they had just accomplished. The British, that well-trained army of international fame, had retreated to Boston. Soon, thousands of militiamen from all the New England colonies would surround what John Winthrop had called 145 years earlier “the city on the hill.” The Revolutionary War had begun.

But it wasn’t that simple.

Two-and-a-half centuries ago, if we had remained divided, we would have fallen. The rag-tag ruffians may have won the day in Lexington and Concord, but they could not have sustained an extended military campaign. Our nation’s Founding Fathers knew that winning the Continue Reading “The Flame of Duty: U.S. Army Celebrates 250 Years of Enduring Spirit, Service, and Unity”

The Red Jacket Medal Mystery: Lost. Found? Still Unsolved.

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Red Jacket

Red Jacket, lithograph by Corbould from 1835 painting by C.B. King, printed by C. Hallmandel, via Wikipedia Commons

“Against Red Jacket Club,” blared the 1910 headline.1 Marking the beginning of the end, it referred to the exclusive Canandaigua social club that defined elite prestige in grand, well-appointed fashion for two decades. Everyone who was anyone sought an invitation to its annual party, which the group limited to 100 guests.

By 1910, its days were numbered. Unlike the earlier move to disband in 1908, this would be the final nail in the organization that had formed in 1888. The financial burden of operating with dwindling membership and maintaining the nearly century-old Federal-style mansion on the corner of Main and Gorham proved to be too heavy.2 Trustees representing the bondholders had no choice but to sell everything.

“All of the personal property of the famous Red Jacket Club, once the ‘swell’ organization of this village, was sold at auction… the club possesses among its relics a silver medal presented by President George Washington to the famous Indian chief, Red Jacket…”3

But the story of that shiny token goes back much further, well before the Club first laid eyes Continue Reading “The Red Jacket Medal Mystery: Lost. Found? Still Unsolved.”

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