I learned the word “ana” in graduate school as I focused on early U.S. history. Secretary of State Thomas Jefferson penned a series of short notes titled “The Anas.” Gossip, slanderous digs, frustrations, and observations he was not willing to publicize at the time. (Which became the subject of my master’s thesis.) In dictionary speak, an “ana” is both: a collection of miscellaneous information about a particular subject, person, place, or thing; or an item in such a collection, as an anecdote, a memorable saying, etc. We’re more familiar with the word as a suffix: Americana, arcana, railroadiana.
I adopt “Anas” as a category now in my Still Learning How to Fly blog–finding myself full of opinions but not necessarily hundreds of words about them. I might be lazy. I might be victim of our era’s short attention spa. But I’ve grown to love economy in writing. To value those who do not belabor their points.So, you’ll be seeing more “Anas” here and linked to those in my blog.
Ana #1 – Tour Train Babble
A couple weeks ago, I insisted that my visiting friend and I take our local “Last Chance Tour Train.” It’s a batch of small open-air carriages pulled by a struggling engine and dolled up with old-timey railroad features. The driver’s required to be the tour guide—talking through a dynamite speaker system.
The narration—never the same twice—has always been a mix of truth and fantasy – the script evolving like a game of “telephone-gossip” over the years. I can’t guess how many times Dave sent the private owners (who despised Dave) corrections. They did not “take.”
With grandchildren who love the experience, I’ve grown mental calluses about twisted or fabricated stories. And just enjoy bumping around Helena without a windshield between me and the sights. But . . .
Ben and I happened to climb aboard when our “engineer” was a substitute –a young woman—long on a shrill, nonstop, over-the-top, cute and often seriously fallacious recital.
She appeared to believe that her job was pure entertainment. And reviews suggest that when she orchestrated the crowd to sing “happy birthday” to a young passenger—the birthday boy loved it.
Right now, though, I’m not so forgiving. First off, style and voice. Politicians learn to pitch their tones deeper and often slower to be understood. There’s a reason for that. Second, most passengers are not kindergartners and kindergartners don’t listen much anyway. They look and bounce. Why pitch your spiel to kindergartners. Third, real history—with salient details—is always more fascinating and believable than half truths or silly stories. Fourth, everybody—everybody—needs context. It only takes about four sentences to set the stage for Helena:
**We came into being as a mining camp in 1864 toward the end of the Civil War. We were one of dozens of quickly-created gold camps.
**Most Montana mining camps turned into ghost towns. We didn’t. Instead, the arrival of the Northern Pacific railroad and our proximity to the Missouri River and its steamboats gave us a major commercial edge. We became the center of business in the Montana territory.
**Helena then became Montana’s capital after a huge fight between two copper “kings.” Copper being the treasure that outlasted gold. Both copper barons tried to “buy” supporters. Helena won the capital fight by 1,600 votes—deemed “fair enough” by the state’s leaders.
**Helena experienced a major earthquake in 1935.
For what it’s worth, most of Helena’s scenery and buildings “hang” on those four pieces of knowledge. We got no such information. At all. Nothing close.
And my fifth and last point: periodic silence in any public presentation is worth its weight in gold!!! ©
