Tag archives for National Geographic founders
In 1879, National Geographic founder George Melville boarded a ship called the Jeannette for what would become one of the epic stories in early American Arctic exploration. The men on the expedition hoped to find a warm current that might take them to the North Pole; instead the ship was caught in the polar ice pack and drifted nearly two years before it was crushed.
As a U. S. Navy commander, National Geographic founder Winfield Scott Schley performed several daring feats, including the rescue of fellow National Geographic founder Adolphus W. Greely after Greely and his men became stranded in the Arctic during their disastrous 1881 expedition. But Schley’s conduct in battle left some critics questioning his judgment, calling him not brave, but impetuous.
National Geographic founder A.W. Greely’s expedition to Lady Franklin Bay in 1881 tragically demonstrated the hardships and deadliness of attempts to explore the Arctic. Despite his many other achievements — including leading the relief efforts after the 1906 San Francisco earthquake — his reputation would forever be tainted.
National Geographic founder Gardiner Greene Hubbard was not a scientist, but he was a forward-thinking man in a still-young country brimming over with promise and a belief in the marvels of the industrial age. When he met Alexander Graham Bell, something new and bold was bound to result.
Otto Tittmann may be one of National Geographic’s lesser-known founders, but his contributions to the Society were held in high regard. So much so that Gilbert H. Grosvenor pulled strings to get a relief bill from Congress that paid Tittmann $150 per month for the rest of his life. Grosvenor told him: “It is not possible to measure the benefits conferred on The Society by your faith in the purposes of The Society and your wise counsels given these forty-seven years without remuneration.”
One of National Geographic’s least-known founders, Herbert Gouverneur Ogden was long associated with the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey. Over the course of his career he compiled several U.S. Coast Pilots for the Atlantic, providing lists of lighthouses, fog signals, and information regarding tides.
From its earliest days, the National Geographic magazine has covered earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, and all manner of violent weather. It was National Geographic founder Edward Everett Hayden who set the tone for these dramatic stories with his riveting account of a storm that sunk 185 vessels on the east coast of the U.S. in 1888.
National Geographic founder J. Howard Gore liked to keep busy. He was a man of many talents, including geography, astronomy and geodesy. (That last one, in case you were wondering, is defined as “using mathematics to determine exact positions of points and the figures and areas of large portions of the earth’s surface.”) He was also a man with literary connections. His mother happened to be a great-aunt of the novelist Willa Cather and appeared as the abolitionist Mrs. Bywaters in the novel, Sapphira.
National Geographic founder Willard Drake Johnson learned from the best, assisting the famous geologist Grove Karl Gilbert on his Lake Bonneville research when only 19 years old. Johnson was so enthralled by drama of the natural world that he once wrote fan mail to John Muir, telling him that if he (Muir) were to write a popular physical geography book it would “usurp the place of the novel in the public library.”
A friend of Henry Henshaw’s described him as having an “innate shyness and personal dignity,” along with a “ready wit and a whimsical sense of humor [that] gave him a most attractive personality.” Along with his quiet charm, the ornithologist was a passionate advocate for America’s birds. When he resigned as Chief of the Biological Survey in 1916, he left as his legacy not only the Migratory Bird Bill, but also the Migratory Bird Treaty with Great Britain, the mother of all subsequent pieces of international conservation legislation. He also left nearly 70 bird sanctuaries.
National Geographic founder William B. Powell may not have had the colorful exuberance of his famous brother, John Wesley, but he was not by any means a timid man. On the contrary, he was a passionate and fierce critic of public and secondary school education. His reformist zeal prompted him to make sweeping changes in outmoded teaching methods and curricula garnered him both acclaim and disapproval. But his legacy to the Society was an early and insistent emphasis on the importance of education, including geography education, in America’s classrooms
Almon Thompson didn’t set out to become an explorer. When he began his career in 1864, after a brief stint as a soldier in the Civil War, it was as a school superintendent in Illinois. It wasn’t until his famous brother-in-law, John Wesley Powell, began inviting him along on his expeditions to the Rocky Mountains that Thompson found his true calling. Diligent and imperturbable, Thompson eventually became a cartographer who was not deterred by gold rushes, Indian scares, and other distractions. He was, as one historian put it, “a man who liked to get things done.”
He wrote engagingly of his many expeditions to the American West–from the otherworldly realm of California’s Mono Lake with its strange tufa formations to the majesty of Alaska’s Mt. St. Elias. But apart from the scientific writings he left behind, the rest of his life remained somewhat hidden from view. Although he was a National Geographic Society founder, he was not prominent in its early activities–with one very important exception. Israel Russell led the first scientific field expedition in National Geographic history.
Biology was a passion of National Geographic founder Clinton Hart Merriam from an early age. One of his early taxidermy specimens was, unfortunately, his sister Florence’s pet cat. But the rifle-toting, teenage naturalist grew up into a well-respected scientist who carried out fieldwork well into his eighties. His colleagues considered him “a splendid fellow” to camp with despite his tendency for serving questionable meals consisting of eagle (his favorite), wildcat, and skunk.
Asked once where he was educated, George Kennan supposedly replied, “Russia.” That one word sufficed, for he was not quite 20 years old when he decided to make his first journey there, a journey that resulted in his first book, in a series of difficult assignments in dangerous places, and in his being a founder of the National Geographic Society. From the horrors of the Russian prison system to the volcanic destruction of Martinique, Kennan was one of the pre-eminent globetrotting journalists of his day–one who wrote with such authority that his words have had far-reaching impact.
Grove Karl Gilbert was considered by his own and future generations to be the greatest of all American geologists, and “a captain bold,” according to Australian geologist E.C. Andrews. But his contributions went beyond field geology. He was the first scientist to hypothesize that the moon’s craters were caused by meteor strikes. (History proved him right.) And in 1888, he helped found the National Geographic Society…
Clarence Dutton was chairman of the now-historic meeting on January 13, 1888, when 33 men agreed to found a geographical society. He was also chairman the following week, when an even larger crowd voted to formalize it as the National Geographic Society. But as the years have passed, Captain Clarence Dutton has slipped from memory. He deserves better. Dutton was a complex mixture — a soldier, geologist, and poet — and his mind and character reflects the judgment he himself passed on the Grand Canyon: that it “first bewilders, and at length overpowers.”
George Brown Goode seemed destined for scientific greatness — either as Secretary of the Smithsonian or as president of the National Geographic Society. An untimely death at the age of 45 kept him from fulfilling these expectations. Nevertheless, the National Geographic founder had a list of accomplishments that would have been impressive for a man twice his age, and he played a crucial role in helping the nation’s capital to become a magnet for scientists and intellectuals in the years leading up to the 20th century.
National Geographic founder John Russell Bartlett began his lifelong career as a naval officer when he was ordered into service at the beginning of the Civil War. But his legacy ended up being less military and more scientific. Accurate high-density soundings taken by his ship lead to the first modern bathymetric map, and the Bartlett Deep was named in his honor, a tribute to the man who had sounded its deepest depths.
For being related to such a famous character as John Wesley Powell, National Geographic founder Arthur Powell Davis has proven somewhat of an elusive figure. A dedicated scientist, Davis made his career where hydrography and civil engineering meet, and his ability and expertise carried him to many different countries around the globe.
When National Geographic founder Gilbert Thompson enlisted in the Union Army, a clerical error identified him as a painter instead of a printer. The typo proved to be serendipitous, leading to his work as an engineer, then a cartographer, and then on to a lifetime of adventures as he explored and surveyed the western United States.
Robert Muldrow II, a geologist, was the youngest man among the National Geographic Society’s founders. He won long-lasting fame (of a sort) by having a glacier named after him. In the 1890s, he was one of the earliest explorers of Mt. McKinley–now Denali–in Alaska.
In 1871, James Clarke Welling was offered the presidency of a small academy on the northern outskirts of Washington, D.C. The college later became known as George Washington University, and Welling would become not just a champion of education in the nation’s capital, but one of the founders of the National Geographic Society.
At one point on their June 1875 expedition, National Geographic founder Rogers Birnie and his men rode 38 miles without a drop of water for themselves or a blade of grass for their animals. They barely got their animals across. One of them died, and others had been without water for 48 hours. One lesson Birnie always remembered about Death Valley: Don’t bring animals. There was never enough water for both animals and men.
In 1881 National Geographic founder Frank Baker was one of the numerous scientific men involved in the treatment of President James A. Garfield, who had been shot in July by a would-be assassin. No one knew for certain where the bullet had finally lodged. For over two months Garfield lingered on his deathbed while doctors sought some means of finding and removing the slug. Dr. Baker drew up a diagram that proved to be remarkably accurate. However, Dr. D. Willard Bliss, the physician in charge, was adamantly opposed to second opinions, and Baker did not press to have his theory presented. At the same time, Alexander Graham Bell, the inventor of the telephone, tried to locate the projectile using a magnet, while George Kennan, a young journalist, was in charge of all the telegraphic reports describing the President’s condition that were sent out to the world . But it was all to no avail, and President Garfield died in September.