One Fine, Lazy Summer Nearly Gone

It's August 10, 2025. Public schools and Amarillo College will begin a new year within days. Educators are reporting earlier than students. That means our lives are starting to get very busy again.

Nearing the end of our summer, I have to say it's been pretty nice for us the last several weeks. This year, it didn't come close to 100 degrees until a few days ago. (The last time Amarillo went a calendar year without reaching 100 was in 2015). Also, for this part of the country we've received a good bit of rain this year. I don't know the current statistics, but it's certain that we are way ahead for the amount of rainfall we usually see by early August. With the exception of Spring it hasn't been very windy this year, and the rain has come fairly consistently. All that to say, weatherwise it's been mild and pleasant in Amarillo. We really haven't seen many "dog days of Summer" like we sometimes do.

Back in June, we traveled up to Springfield, Illinois, where I conducted the wedding of the couple who live two doors down from us. We had never spent much time in "the Land of Lincoln." I got to see the

Lincoln Presidential Library. I also got to tour the Lincoln Home. It was the only house Abraham Lincoln ever owned.

More recently, we've spent some time just eating out at local restaurants. A place called Hoffbrau Steak and Grill House has become a favorite of ours. We also watched a crime drama series on Netflix called Seven Seconds. It's dark, not exactly edifying, and not for the faint of heart. It kept us entertained over the course of several nights. Earlier in the summer, we went to see the latest Mission Impossible movie, The Final Reckoning, which was well worth it. I know, Tom Cruise seems awfully weird and even creepy to some people. But the guy is a bona fide movie star who goes all out when it comes to entertaining audiences. This latest of his is pure movie escapism at its best.

Starting back in late June, I began teaching a summer course in post-1877 American History. I meet with the students 9:30 to 11:20, Monday through Thursday. It was a relatively small class, about sixteen students. 

Ever since I was in college, I've always enjoyed summer sessions. Not many people are on campus. The common extra-curricular activities aren't happening. So the whole thing feels both more relaxed and more focused on what we're presumably there to do. I like it. Last week was the sixth and final week. Nowadays, I'm getting a ten-day break before returning faculty have to report.

Back on the Fourth of July, the two of us went to a home game of the Sod Poodles, our very own Double-A baseball team. The Soddies won, and the concert and fireworks afterward were great. As it turned out, we had the chance to go to another game with a group from church on Sunday, July 13. A member of the congregation who's part of a law firm here in Amarillo managed to get us the firm's sky box, a great venue for the twenty or so people who went.

Oh, and back on August 3, we got to see Bachman-Turner Overdrive with opening act the Marshall Tucker Band. A friend was able to get tickets at his workplace. We got to have a nice supper just before the show, which was really great. Randy Bachman is 81-years old these days and still touring. What a treat to see him perform.

Pre-History of Jackson County, Oklahoma (3)

By 1891, a few short years after its founding, the town of Frazer was home to several businesses. These included a hotel, drug store, a general merchandise store, and even a jewelry store. A medical doctor, J. E. Fowler, and his family lived in the drug store. The proprietor of the general store was C. C. Hightower, for whom the Altus High School football stadium is named: Hightower Memorial Stadium. In 1887, J. R. McMahan came to Frazer and became the first school teacher in Greer County, Texas. Eventually, he would replace Mrs. P. H. Holt as postmaster.[1]

Residents of Frazer likely knew their town was in a vulnerable spot. Although it was nice to have the Frazer River (known today as the Salt Fork of the Red River) and Bitter Creek nearby, Frazer stood where the creek and the river met. The dangerous potential turned into reality in 1891. On the night of June 4, torrential rains fell just north of Frazer, in the area that feeds Bitter Creek and the Salt Fork. The two currents overflowed and formed one very wide and swift river running at least three feet deep. Decades later, Dr. Fowler's daughter, only four years old in 1891, recalled: "I remember Mama walking from bed to bed on chairs because there was so much water on the floor." Townspeople got up in the middle of the night, gathered what they could, and moved to safety on higher ground. For many years after the flood, old-timers would say, "The average rainfall here is twenty inches a year and I remember the day it fell."[2]

When residents of Frazer fled their homes, they knew of a higher settlement just two and a half miles to the east-northeast. A post office had been established there the year before, in 1890. At some point, W. R. Baucum, who had formerly lived in Altus, Arkansas, and who knew the Latin word Altus meant "high," suggested that name for the new town.[3]

This traditional telling of the story about how and why Altus got its name leaves a question: if a post office was established there the year before the flood at Frazer, then what was the name of Altus prior to that event? The story assumes that Altus was given that name only after the people of Frazer moved to "higher ground." However, every U.S. post office has a registered name. So, again, what was the name of Altus in 1890, the year before the flood? If the original name of the settlement was Altus, then the story about the town being given that name after the flood doesn't add up.

Notes

[1] Chesser, Across the Lonely Years, 139, 179; Barbara Kay Shelton, "Altus on the Hill Above Frazer in Old Greer County," Chronicles of Oklahoma 40, no, 4 (Winter 1962-63): 390-92.

[2] Chesser, Across the Lonely Years, 139-40; Shelton, "Altus on the Hill Above Frazer," 392.

[3] George H. Shirk, Oklahoma Place Names, 2nd ed. (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1974), 8; Chesser, Across the Lonely Years, 141.

Pre-History of Jackson County, Oklahoma (2)

Among the most important pioneers in what is now Jackson County, Oklahoma, were the family of John and Susan McClearen. In 1885, the McClearens, along with their two daughters and two sons-in-law--the J. B. Walkers and P. H. Holts--moved from Grayson County to Greer County, Texas (present-day southwest Oklahoma). At first, they lived in tents, a half dug-out, and a log cabin about three miles south and east of present-day Altus. Soon, they were joined by the family of Tom Eaton.[1]

Frazer, the fledgling town they began, took its name from the nearby Frazer River, known today as the Salt Fork of the Red River. In February 1886, John McClearen established a post office at Frazer. That spring, he began farming. Cowboys driving cattle along the Western Trail would sometimes venture over to Frazer to pick up mail and drink some of the McClearen's fresh buttermilk, kept cold in a well. The cowboys called the place "Buttermilk Station."[2]

Notes

[1] Cecil R. Chesser, Across the Lonely Years: The Story of Jackson County (Altus, OK: Altus Printing Company, 1971), 137-38.

[2] Ibid., 138; George H. Shirk, Oklahoma Place Names, 2nd ed. (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1974), 95.

Pre-History of Jackson County, Oklahoma (1)

Spanish explorers were the first Europeans to pass through what is now southwest Oklahoma. But they never stayed in the region. Later, in the nineteenth century, members of the U.S. Army also came to this place. One of them was George Armstrong Custer, who traveled through what is now Jackson County in 1869. It was not until the 1870s that people began to take interest in permanently settling in what was then Greer County, Texas.[1] Around that time, the Western Trail began to replace the Chisholm Trail as the best, most direct route for cattle drives going from Texas to railheads in Kansas and Nebraska. The Western Trail was blazed by John T. Lytle in 1874 and crossed the Red River ten miles north of Vernon, Texas. Cowboys who came through on cattle drives following the Western Trail noticed the potential of present-day Jackson County, Oklahoma.[2]

Cattle ranchers came to southwest Oklahoma more than a quarter century before Jackson County was established. As early as 1881, L. Z. Eddleman started the Cross S Ranch around present-day Olustee. About that same time, Cornelius T. Herring began the Herring Ranch near what is now Navajoe. Another operation, the H Cross N Ranch, was established south of present-day Altus.[3] In 1885, the Day Land and Cattle Company leased 203,000 acres in Greer County, Texas (which eventually formed Jackson, Greer, Harmon, and parts of Tillman and Beckham Counties in today's Oklahoma). Livestock was becoming one of America's largest industries, and Greer County, Texas, was home to some 60,000 cattle.[4]

Notes

[1] Cecil R. Chesser, Across the Lonely Years: The Story of Jackson County (Altus, OK: Altus Printing Company, 1971), 137-38; Webb L. Moore, "Greer County,," Handbook of Texas Online, accessed May 5, 2025. https://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/entries/greer-county.

[2] Chesser, Across the Lonely Years, 137; Carl N. Tyson, “Western Trail,” The Encyclopedia of Oklahoma History and Culture, https://www.okhistory.org/publications/enc/entry?entry=WE025.

[3] Linda D. Wilson, "Jackson County," Encyclopedia of Oklahoma History and Culture, https://www.okhistory.org/publications/enc/entry?entry=JA001; Cecil R. Chesser, Across the Lonely Years, 137.

[4] Anonymous, “Day Land and Cattle Company,” Handbook of Texas Online, accessed May 15, 2025, https://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/entries/day-land-and-cattle-company; John D. Heisch, “Old Greer County,” The Encyclopedia of Oklahoma History and Culture, https://www.okhistory.org/publications/enc/entry?entry=OL002; Moore, “Greer County."

Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple

The most recent issue of the Stone-Campbell Journal includes an article by Kelly Tyrrell titled "Strange Bedfellows: Jim Jones and the Disciples of Christ."

Tyrrell tells the story of the Peoples Temple. It was a popular church in 1960s and 70s California with thousands of members. But when Jim Jones, the church's charismatic pastor, was placed under investigation, he convinced hundreds of church members to move with him to Guyana, South America. There in the jungle they established an enclave called Jonestown.

When concerned U.S. officials visited Jonestown, several in their entourage were shot and killed. Shortly after that, 918 residents of Jonestown died in a mass suicide orchestrated by Jones himself. The pastor convinced church members to drink a beverage laced with cyanide. More than 300 of the dead were children.

While the news media often identified Jones as the leader of a cult, they overlooked the fact that Peoples Temple was affiliated with the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) denomination. That's the point this article emphasizes. Tyrrell notes that the Stone-Campbell Restoration Movement has historically been characterized by independent, autonomous congregations. Only in the twentieth century did the most liberal branch of the movement, the Disciples of Christ, establish something of a denominational structure. However, even after doing that, the network of congregations was loose.

This was something Jim Jones had noticed. And he took advantage. On the one hand, connections to a recognized denomination would lend Peoples Temple status and credibility. How could someone be pegged as a cult leader when his church was in good standing with a major denomination? On the other hand, the Disciples of Christ was the denomination least likely to keep tabs on its member churches and their pastors. So affiliation with the Disciples was perfect for Jones: credibility without oversight.

Anyway, a few of the sources in this article could have been stronger. But aside from that, it's a fine piece that makes an overlooked point about Jones and his church.

J. W. McGarvey on the Elders in Acts 14:23

Acts chapters 13 and 14 narrate what is often called Paul's First Missionary Journey. In this story, the Apostle is accompanied another great New Testament character, Barnabas. For a time, a relative of Barnabas, John, was with them (13:5 and 13).

The missionaries traveled from their home church in Syrian Antioch (modern Antakya, Turkey) to the island of Cyprus. From there, they sailed to south-central Anatolia where they taught many people about what God had recently done through Jesus of Nazareth.

Once they started back home, Paul and Barnabas retraced their steps and visited many of the newly-formed congregations of those who believed in Jesus. As they did so, they "appointed elders for them in each church and, with prayer and fasting, committed them to the Lord, in whom they had put their trust" (14:23). But, someone might ask, if according to 1 Timothy 3:6, an elder "must not be a recent convert," how does that square with the appointment of new Christians to this role in Acts 14:23?

Back in the nineteenth century, this question had occurred to J. W. McGarvey (pictured here) one of the best biblical scholars the Disciples movement ever produced. In commenting on Acts 14:23, McGarvey wrote:

If anyone is surprised that men were found in these newly founded congregations possessed of the high qualifications for the office laid down by Paul in his epistles to Titus and Timothy, he should remember that although these disciples had been but a comparatively short time in the church, may of them were, in character and knowledge of the Scriptures, the ripest fruits of the Jewish synagogue; and they needed only additional knowledge which the gospel brought, in order to be models of wisdom and piety for the churches. They were not "novices" (I Tim. III. 6) in the sense of being newly turned away from wickedness. [1]

Here we see deep understanding, an appreciation for ancient Judaism as the primary matrix from which earliest Christian grew. McGarvey's knowledge and good judgment shine through in this and so many other sections of his classic commentary.

Note

[1] J. W. McGarvey, New Commentary on Acts of Apostles (Cincinnati: Standard Publishing Company, 1892), vol. 2: pages 50-51.

Below is a link to an online copy of volume 2 of McGarvey's commentary, the one quoted in this post:

https://archive.org/details/newcommentaryona02mcga/page/50/mode/2up

Is "Revisionist History" Redundant? Not Always.

At first glance, this title seems to contradict my previous post, where I argued that revisionist history is redundant because all historical writing revises existing interpretations. Without change or new perspectives, what would be the point of writing history?

Now I’m saying revisionist history isn’t always redundant. Why? In some fields, the term revisionist has evolved into a label for historians who take a distinct and often controversial new direction in their research. Here are two examples: the English Reformation and America in Vietnam.

The English Reformation: A Revisionist Turn

For many years, historians of the English Reformation portrayed it as inevitable, overdue, and widely welcomed. They argued that Roman Catholicism had grown stale and oppressive, making the Reformation a relief. Prominent historians in this tradition include A.G. Dickens and G.R. Elton.

But starting in the 1980s, historians like J.J. Scarisbrick and Eamon Duffy challenged this narrative. They focused instead on what was lost during the Reformation, presenting evidence that many English people resisted or lamented the changes. They argued the old system was effective, meaningful, and didn’t need replacing.

These historians embraced the label revisionists. Over time, their arguments reshaped the conversation so thoroughly that scholars now describe the field as post-revisionist. The key point is that revisionist wasn’t used as a slur in this context—it became an accepted term for a distinct school of thought.

U.S. Involvement in Vietnam: Another Revisionist Turn

A similar dynamic exists in the historiography of America’s involvement in Vietnam. The dominant view—advocated by journalists like Neil Sheehan and historians like John Prados—holds that U.S. intervention was a mistake: poorly planned, poorly executed, and ultimately disastrous. This perspective is exemplified in Ken Burns’ The Vietnam War documentary.

However, a small group of historians, described as revisionists, offer a different take. They argue that U.S. involvement in Vietnam was justified to prevent the spread of communism, that the war was winnable, and that the United States withdrew prematurely. Among these historians, Mark Moyar stands out with works like Triumph Forsaken and Triumph Regained.

My Take

In both cases, I find myself siding with the older, traditional interpretations. At the same time, I recognize that the revisionists often make insightful points. What’s important here is that the term revisionist history isn’t always redundant or pejorative. Sometimes, it’s a meaningful label for a specific approach embraced by its proponents.

In these contexts, revisionist history is not just about change—it’s about redefining the conversation entirely.

Why "Revisionist History" is Redundant

I want to make a case: The expression revisionist history is redundant. It's like tooth dentist.

The origin of the phrase seems clear enough. It's come along as part of the history front of the culture wars in the United States, and perhaps in other parts of the world, too. In my experience, the expression is used in the following imaginary statement:

When I was a kid, we learned basic history. You know, Ben Franklin, George Washington, the American Revolution, and the U.S. Constitution. But today, the schools are teaching revisionist history. They've changed things.

There is no doubt that standard or typical narratives of American history are different now than they were forty and fifty years ago. For example, today, compared to decades ago, it is much more common for American historians to include in their narratives information about Native Americans, women, African-Americans, Hispanics, and all sorts of minority or outsider groups.

Of course, those people were there all along. But in previous generations, the contributions of those people to our collective past were not often acknowledged or even noticed. That is a big part of what has changed, which is mainly why some complain about revisionist history.

My point is not that recent changes in the way historians investigate and write about the past are either good or bad. (It's a mixed bag, I think. Pluses and minuses). My point is that what people sometimes call revisionism is just another name for the next generation of people writing about and teaching the subject of history. In the Introduction to his 1972 book, The World Turned Upside Down: Radical Ideas during the English Revolution, historian Christopher Hill captured the idea:

History has to be rewritten in every generation, because although the past does not change the present does; each generation asks new questions, and finds new areas of sympathy as it re-lives different aspects of the experiences of its predecessors (13).

In other words, revision is the essence of writing history. It is not the case that an older generation of historians was right and the current generation is wrong. It is not that an earlier approach, necessarily superior, has been abandoned for a new approach, which is obviously inferior. Nor is the difference the result of current historians fudging on the facts. Again, Hill: "No amount of detailed working over the evidence is going to change the factual essentials of the story." The difference stems from the fact that every generation is, in at least some ways, unique, like the uniqueness of every individual no matter how much she might look like her grandmother. "But," says Hill, "the interpretation will vary with our attitudes, with our lives in the present. So reinterpretation is not only possible but necessary" (13).

Much more recently Ned Blackhawk, in his book The Rediscovery of America: Native Peoples and the Unmaking of U.S. History, has expressed the same ideas:

Revising interpretations of the past is an inherent part of the study of history, and as each generation reinterprets, it does so in response to new circumstances, ideas, and conditions (4).

And that is why revisionist history is redundant. If someone's interpretation is just wrong, then we should say so, and say why. But it will never do to dismiss someone's interpretation of the past simply because it is different from something one has heard and believed before.

Sources: 

Ned Blackhawk, The Rediscovery of America: Native Peoples and the Unmaking of U.S. History. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2023.

Christopher Hill, The World Turned Upside Down: Radical Ideas during the English Revolution. New York: Viking Press, 1972.

El Meta and the Church of Christ at Minco in 1919

In 1919, the newspapers in Minco were mostly quiet about El Meta Bond College. The local school system and business colleges in the area appeared to be in full swing. At the end of August, for example, the Minco Herald reported that local public schools would open on September 2 and that the teachers for the coming term had all been employed. The next page of the paper contained an advertisement for the Chickasha Business College, which had been operating for sixteen years.[1] In nearby El Reno, Oklahoma, there was another business school, apparently with wild aspirations. In a city of 8,000, it was called Metropolitan Commercial College.[2]

Finally, on September 19, a notice appeared in the Minco Herald: "Thirtieth Re-Union El Meta Bond College." That night, the college would host a community gathering at which the grounds would be "lighted and decorated." The faculty and students would provide entertainment. Locals were encouraged to "come and welcome the old students back, and to let the new ones know that you are glad to have them in your community." The notice concluded with a nod towards the near future: "This might be your last opportunity to attend such an occasion as no one can tell what a year will bring forth."[3] Meta would soon complete three decades of nearly non-stop work in Oklahoma, and it seems the Sagers were already thinking about closing the school the following spring.

Meanwhile, Minco public schools started the year with 229 students. Superintendent J. W. Morgan warned parents that a new law made it "compulsory for all children between ages eight and sixteen to attend school six months," and he was determined to enforce that law.[4]

Both the Methodist and Baptist churches in Minco held revivals at the end of the summer.[5] But the papers made no mention of the congregation that met on Sundays at El Meta Bond College.

Notes

[1] "Schools Opens September 2," Minco Herald, August 29, 1919, 4, 5.

[2] Minco Herald, September 5, 1919, 3.

[3] "Thirtieth Re-Union El Meta Bond College," Minco Herald, September 19, 1919, 1.

[4] J.W. Morgan, "The Minco Schools," Minco Herald, October 10, 1919, 1.

[5] "Baptist Revival to Begin Sunday," Minco Herald, September 12, 1919, 1; "Revival Meeting at the Methodist Church," Minco Herald, September 19, 1919, 1.

Alexander Campbell on the Biblical Tabernacle

Campbell published his four-part series on the biblical Tabernacle in the Millennial Harbinger 1861, the year he turned seventy-three. By that point in his life, Campbell was not nearly as sharp or focused as he had been when he was younger.

Perhaps his disappointments and heartaches, not to mention the distress of the unfolding war, were taking their toll. Whatever the causes, the articles in the series are rambling and disjointed. Lauding the glories of Creation, at other times chiding skeptics, Campbell sometimes writes several paragraphs that never mention his subject. At other points, he includes long quotes from other sources. In the second installment, Campbell quotes almost all of Psalm 72, again, without an obvious need or a necessary connection to his subject.

Nevertheless, the series contains a few particulars about Campbell's understanding of the Tabernacle. For example, regarding the three sections of the Tabernacle and its precincts, Campbell wrote:

"The outer court, at the proper angle of vision, represents the world, dead in trespasses and in sins; the holy place, the church; and the holiest of all, heaven itself." (No. 2, p. 151)

On the great significance of the Tabernacle and the rituals that took place there, Campbell said:

"Were we to enter into all the details of the Tabernacle and its worship, we should need a small volume rather than a short essay. We generally, in our college duties, deliver annually a series of lectures on this institution, and our opinion is, that the Tabernacle and its worship, thoroughly developed, is the best system of theology, properly so called, known to us in all the theologies of our country." (No. 2, p. 156)

David Lipscomb on the Roles of Christian Women, 1892

In October 1892, David Lipscomb set out to define what Churches of Christ should teach and practice regarding the roles of Christian women in church and society. He began by quoting New Testament passages restricting the activities of women in Christian assemblies (1 Corinthians 14:34-35 and 1 Timothy 2:11), and passages that call on Christian wives to submit to their husbands (Ephesians 5:22; Colossians 3:18; and 1 Peter 3:1-6). Lipscomb insisted that the teaching of these verses "does not degrade woman." He also insisted that, aside from contemporary influence to the contrary, the divine teaching must be obeyed. To see what can happen when women lead churches, one would need to look no further than the Congregationalists of New England who had drifted far from their staid Puritan past. Lipscomb concluded by referring to the Disciples' General Christian Missionary Convention, held that year in Nashville, where women had spoken from the stage in full assemblies. "That meeting," he said, "should be regarded a sin against God and an offense to the Christian womanhood of Nashville and of the South."[1]

Note

[1] David Lipscomb, "Woman and Her Work," Gospel Advocate 34 (October 13, 1892), 644.

Reaction to Meta Sager's 1936 Speech in Minco

The reaction to Meta's speech that night was a fond memory of hers for the rest of her life. A few days after the event, she wrote to Clara:

"I sold the old College ground in Minco, and a United States Armory has been built on part of it. I was asked to make a dinner speech at the Dedication Banquet . . . I was on the program with all of the biggest Generals . . . in the state. I was given the last speech . . . and when I had finished the whole house stood to cheer, led by all of those high officials. I was surprised that my little speech was so well received by those army grandees. I had been introduced at the laying of the Corner Stone in the afternoon, and at night in the Armory exercises was introduced on the platform as the most honored guest of the evening."[1]

Note

[1] Meta Chestnutt Sager to Clara Sager, December 20, 1936, MCSC, box 3, folder 26.