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World War I Centennial: Wilson Takes The White House

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The First World War was an unprecedented catastrophe that killed millions and set the continent of Europe on the path to further calamity two decades later. But it didn’t come out of nowhere.

With the centennial of the outbreak of hostilities coming up in 2014, Erik Sass will be looking back at the lead-up to the war, when seemingly minor moments of friction accumulated until the situation was ready to explode. He'll be covering those events 100 years after they occurred. This is the 42nd installment in the series. (See all entries here.)

November 5, 1912: Wilson Takes the White House

There aren’t many times in U.S. history when a candidate for president could take 41.8 percent of the popular vote and have it called a landslide victory, but that’s exactly what happened in the bizarre four-way election of 1912, when Democrat Woodrow Wilson swept to power with considerably less than half the vote.

The election of 1912 occurred in a time of economic, social, and political upheaval. Thanks to high birth rates, an improving standard of living, and massive immigration from Europe, the U.S. population soared from 63 million in 1890 to 76.2 million in 1900 and 95.3 million in 1912, a 51 percent jump in just over two decades (for comparison, from 1990 to 2012, the U.S. population increased 26.5 percent from 248.7 million to 314.7 million).

While the population was growing fast, voting rights were still confined to a relatively small number of Americans. On November 5, 1912, just over 14.8 million American men turned out to vote across the 48 continental United States. Because women and most immigrant non-citizens couldn’t vote in federal elections, and African-Americans were widely prevented from voting by Jim Crow laws or simple intimidation, the participating electorate represented just 15.5 percent of the total U.S. population of 95.3 million in 1912; that compares to a popular vote tally of 43.2 percent of the total population in 2008.

Although activists for women’s suffrage and black civil rights were already demanding reform, gender and race were still mostly background issues in 1912: the most prominent social divisions of the era pitted the city against the countryside, and labor against business. These tensions resulted from rapid, sweeping change and were the source of mounting popular anxiety.

From 1880 to 1910, the United States completed its transition from a mostly agrarian economy, based on farm production, to a mostly industrial economy based on manufacturing. While industry’s share of gross domestic product had been increasing throughout the 19th century, its contribution to GDP passed agriculture’s for the first time in the 1880s. Subsequently farming’s contribution to GDP slipped from around a third in 1890 to a quarter in 1909, while the proportion of the American work force engaged in agricultural work fell from 50 percent in 1870 to 32 percent in 1910, and the share of the population living in rural areas fell from 64.9 percent in 1890 to 54.4 percent in 1910.

Accompanying all these changes was the sense that America’s traditional self-image as a rustic Arcadia was fading, and the countryside was in retreat (as indeed it was in the Northeast, where the number of acres under cultivation fell from 23.5 million in 1900 to 22 million in 1910 and 21.3 million in 1920). This transition also gave rise to growing political tension between urban and rural America. In 1896, for example, William Jennings Bryan won the Democratic nomination with his famous “Cross of Gold” speech calling for free coinage of silver to inflate the money supply and reduce the burden on indebted farmers, even if it hurt big business: “The merchant at the crossroads store is as much a businessman as the merchant of New York. The farmer who goes forth in the morning and toils all day… is as much a businessman as the man who goes upon the Board of Trade and bets upon the price of grain.”

At the same time there was also growing tension within the cities themselves, as factory workers confronted wealthy industrialists and the government with demands for better pay and working conditions. As the industrial economy expanded, wages often failed to keep pace with the cost of living—although the average yearly income of a factory worker increased from $426 in 1899 to $579 in 1914, this actually represented a 10 percent decline in terms of real purchasing power. Unsurprisingly, labor disputes were commonplace, and around this time they reached a boiling point: According to the New York State Department of Labor, the number of employees involved in strikes and lockouts in New York (the most populous and industrialized state) soared from 23,236 in 1908 to 206,922 in 1910 and 304,301 in 1913.

The presidential election of 1912 reflected all the conflicts at work in a society undergoing rapid transformation. Aggrieved workers were represented by Eugene Debs, a radical socialist who had helped found the “Wobblies” (the Industrial Workers of the World) and already run for president on three previous occasions, in 1900, 1904, and 1908; a fiery speaker, Debs would succeed in attracting 6 percent of the popular vote—the most ever garnered by a Socialist candidate in U.S. history. During the Great War, which few if any foresaw, Debs’ opposition to U.S. involvement would land him in prison. At his sentencing in November 1918, Debs famously declared that “while there is a lower class, I am in it, and while there is a criminal element I am of it, and while there is a soul in prison, I am not free.”

Among the mainstream parties, the Republicans were split by former President Teddy Roosevelt’s decision to run again. Roosevelt had fallen out with fellow Republican William Howard Taft, his friend and successor, over a variety of social and economic issues. As the leader of the “progressive” Republicans, Roosevelt wanted to pursue social reforms and improve conditions for industrial workers, which put him on the side of unions; indeed, in October 1912, he declared, “It is essential that there should be organizations of labor. This is an era of organization. Capital organizes and therefore labor must organize.” Meanwhile, Taft and the “conservative” Republicans sided with the captains of industry against the unions, which Taft criticized for “lawlessness in labor disputes,” and opposed any further legislation protecting organized labor. There was some common ground, however, as both conservatives and progressives tended to support tariffs to protect American industry.

The split in the Republican Party ended up handing the White House to the Democratic contender, Woodrow Wilson—a professor of political science who previously served as president of Princeton and then governor of New Jersey. In a rancorous national convention, Wilson clinched the Democratic nomination only after receiving the endorsement of William Jennings Bryan, who continued to speak for the interests of American farmers. Wilson’s platform reflected the desires of this rural base, including cotton growers in the Deep South: Like Bryan, he opposed protective tariffs which favored industry at the expense of agriculture, and in 1916 he signed the Federal Farm Loan Act. But he also co-opted the Republicans by adopting key progressive policies, including trust-busting and social reforms.

In the end, the divided Republicans together took 50.6 percent of the popular vote, with 27.4 percent going to the Progressive Teddy Roosevelt and 23.2 percent going to Taft, the actual Republican nominee. Roosevelt won considerably more states, however, including Pennsylvania, Michigan, Minnesota, Iowa, Washington, and most of California (which could divide its Electoral College votes, as Maine and Nebraska do today), giving him a total 88 votes in the Electoral College; Taft only managed to win Vermont and Utah, giving him a grand total of eight votes in the Electoral College (he even lost his home state of Ohio).

Thus Wilson managed to win a huge victory in the Electoral College despite getting less than half the popular vote. His 41.8 percent of the popular vote translated into victories in 40 out of 48 states, for a whopping 435 votes in the Electoral College.

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U.S. National Archives and Records Administration, Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons
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5 Things You Didn't Know About Sally Ride
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U.S. National Archives and Records Administration, Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons

You know Sally Ride as the first American woman to travel into space. But here are five things you might not know about the astronaut, who passed away five years ago today—on July 23, 2012—at the age of 61.

1. SHE PROVED THERE IS SUCH THING AS A STUPID QUESTION.

When Sally Ride made her first space flight in 1983, she was both the first American woman and the youngest American to make the journey to the final frontier. Both of those distinctions show just how qualified and devoted Ride was to her career, but they also opened her up to a slew of absurd questions from the media.

Journalist Michael Ryan recounted some of the sillier questions that had been posed to Ride in a June 1983 profile for People. Among the highlights:

Q: “Will the flight affect your reproductive organs?”
A: “There’s no evidence of that.”

Q: “Do you weep when things go wrong on the job?”
A: “How come nobody ever asks (a male fellow astronaut) those questions?"

Forget going into space; Ride’s most impressive achievement might have been maintaining her composure in the face of such offensive questions.

2. SHE MIGHT HAVE BEEN A TENNIS PRO.

When Ride was growing up near Los Angeles, she played more than a little tennis, and she was seriously good at it. She was a nationally ranked juniors player, and by the time she turned 18 in 1969, she was ranked 18th in the whole country. Tennis legend Billie Jean King personally encouraged Ride to turn pro, but she went to Swarthmore instead before eventually transferring to Stanford to finish her undergrad work, a master’s, and a PhD in physics.

King didn’t forget about the young tennis prodigy she had encouraged, though. In 1984 an interviewer playfully asked the tennis star who she’d take to the moon with her, to which King replied, “Tom Selleck, my family, and Sally Ride to get us all back.”

3. HOME ECONOMICS WAS NOT HER BEST SUBJECT.

After retiring from space flight, Ride became a vocal advocate for math and science education, particularly for girls. In 2001 she founded Sally Ride Science, a San Diego-based company that creates fun and interesting opportunities for elementary and middle school students to learn about math and science.

Though Ride was an iconic female scientist who earned her doctorate in physics, just like so many other youngsters, she did hit some academic road bumps when she was growing up. In a 2006 interview with USA Today, Ride revealed her weakest subject in school: a seventh-grade home economics class that all girls had to take. As Ride put it, "Can you imagine having to cook and eat tuna casserole at 8 a.m.?"

4. SHE HAD A STRONG TIE TO THE CHALLENGER.

Ride’s two space flights were aboard the doomed shuttle Challenger, and she was eight months deep into her training program for a third flight aboard the shuttle when it tragically exploded in 1986. Ride learned of that disaster at the worst possible time: she was on a plane when the pilot announced the news.

Ride later told AARP the Magazine that when she heard the midflight announcement, she got out her NASA badge and went to the cockpit so she could listen to radio reports about the fallen shuttle. The disaster meant that Ride wouldn’t make it back into space, but the personal toll was tough to swallow, too. Four of the lost members of Challenger’s crew had been in Ride’s astronaut training class.

5. SHE DIDN'T SELL OUT.

A 2003 profile in The New York Times called Ride one of the most famous women on Earth after her two space flights, and it was hard to argue with that statement. Ride could easily have cashed in on the slew of endorsements, movie deals, and ghostwritten book offers that came her way, but she passed on most opportunities to turn a quick buck.

Ride later made a few forays into publishing and endorsements, though. She wrote or co-wrote more than a half-dozen children’s books on scientific themes, including To Space and Back, and in 2009 she appeared in a print ad for Louis Vuitton. Even appearing in an ad wasn’t an effort to pad her bank account, though; the ad featured an Annie Leibovitz photo of Ride with fellow astronauts Buzz Aldrin and Jim Lovell gazing at the moon and stars. According to a spokesperson, all three astronauts donated a “significant portion” of their modeling fees to Al Gore’s Climate Project.

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Remembering Comet Hale-Bopp's Unlikely Discovery
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Comet Hale-Bopp was a sensation in the mid-1990s. It was visible to the naked eye for 18 months, shattering a nine-month record previously set in 1811. It inspired a doomsday cult, wild late-night radio theories about extraterrestrials, and plenty of actual science. But a year before it became visible to normal observers, two men independently and simultaneously discovered it in a coincidence of astronomical proportions.

On the night of July 22-23, 1995, Alan Hale was engaged in his favorite hobby: looking at comets. It was the first clear night in his area for about 10 days, so he decided to haul out his telescope and see what he could see. In the driveway of his New Mexico home, he set up his Meade DS-16 telescope and located Periodic Comet Clark, a known comet. He planned to wait a few hours and observe another known comet (Periodic Comet d'Arrest) when it came into view. To kill time, he pointed his telescope at M70, a globular cluster in the Sagittarius system.

Comet Hale-Bopp streaks through a starry night sky.
Comet Hale-Bopp streaks through the sky over Merrit Island, Florida, south of Kennedy Space Center.
George Shelton // AFP // Getty Images

Hale was both an amateur astronomer and a professional. His interest in spotting comets was actually the amateur part, thought it would make his name famous. Hale's day jobs included stints at JPL in Pasadena and the Southwest Institute for Space Research in Cloudcroft, New Mexico. But that night, peering at M70, he wrote, "I immediately noticed a fuzzy object in the field that hadn't been there when I had looked at M70 two weeks earlier." He double-checked that he was looking in the right place, and then started to get excited.

In order to verify that the fuzzy object wasn't something astronomers already knew about, Hale consulted his deep-sky catalogues and also ran a computer search using the International Astronomical Union's computer at Harvard University. Convinced that he had found something new, Hale fired off an email very early on the morning of July 23 to the IAU's Central Bureau for Astronomical Telegrams, telling them what he had found, along with detailed instructions on how to verify it themselves. Hale also tracked the object as it moved, until it moved out of view. It was definitely a comet, and it was definitely new.

Meanwhile, Tom Bopp was in Arizona, also hunting for comets. At the time, Bopp was working at a construction materials company in Phoenix, but he was also an accomplished amateur astronomer, with decades of experience observing deep-sky objects. That night, Bopp vas visiting the remote Vekol Ranch, 90 miles south of Phoenix, known as a great location for dark-sky viewing. He was with a group of friends, which was important because Bopp didn't actually own a telescope.

The Bopp group looked through their various telescopes, observing all sorts of deep-sky objects late into the night. Bopp's friend Jim Stevens had set up his homemade 17.5-inch Dobsonian reflector telescope and made some observations. Stevens finished an observation, then left his telescope to consult a star atlas and figure out what to aim at next. While Stevens was occupied, Bopp peered into Stevens's telescope and saw a fuzzy object enter the field of view, near M70. He called his friends over to have a look.

The Bopp group proceeded to track the fuzzy object for several hours, just as Hale was doing over in New Mexico. By tracking its movement relative to background stars, they (like Hale) concluded that it was a comet. When the comet left his view, Bopp drove to a Western Union and sent a telegram to the Central Bureau for Astronomical Telegrams. (For historical perspective, telegrams were extremely outdated in 1995, but technically they were still a thing.)

Brian Marsden at the Central Bureau received Bopp's telegram hours later, after getting a few followup emails from Hale with additional details. Comparing the times of discovery, Marsden realized that the two men had discovered the comet simultaneously. According to NASA, it was the farthest comet ever to be discovered by amateur astronomers—it was 7.15 Astronomical Units (AU) from our sun. That's 665 million miles. Not bad for a pair of amateurs, one using a homemade telescope!

The Central Bureau verified the findings and about 12 hours after the initial discovery, issued IAU Circular 6187, designating it C/1995 O1 Hale-Bopp. The circular read, in part: "All observers note the comet to be diffuse with some condensation and no tail, motion toward the west-northwest."

Four men smile, posing outdoors next to a large telescope at night.
Comet hunters (L to R): David Levy, Dr. Don Yeomans, Dr. Alan Hale and Thomas Bopp pose next to a telescope during a public viewing of the Hale-Bopp and Wild-2 comets.
Mike Nelson // AFP // Getty Images

Less than a year later, Comet Hale-Bopp came into plain view, and the rest is history. It was a thousand times brighter than Halley's Comet, which had caused a major stir in its most recent appearance in the 1980s. Comet Hale-Bopp will return, much like Halley's Comet, but it won't be until the year 4385. (And incidentally, it was previously visible circa 2200 BCE.)

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