I just returned from spring break, and while I usually write about space, this post will be a little different.
Athiests are trying to remove the cross of burned steel beams from the World Trade Center Museum. Somehow, the Islamic crescent of red maples at the Flight 93 Memorial is hunky-dory. History has been whitewashed so that God is not mentioned. Mayflower Compact? Washington’s first Inaugural Address? Lincoln’s second Inaugural Address? Fuhgeddaboutit. My husband’s liberal cousin and her friends lamented the Supreme Court decision in the Hobby Lobby case with “Who would want to work for a Christian anyway?” (Uh, me, please.)
So imagine my surprise in finding a national monument, part of the National Parks Service, that was not cleansed by the politically correct. I almost hesitate to talk about it, lest someone in DC yell, “We missed one!” and hustle out there to “fix” it. Still, I think it’s worth bringing to your attention.
10 miles off Interstate 44, near the town of Diamond, Missouri, is the George Washington Carver National Monument. Dig this: (click to embiggen)
Carver’s Formula for Success
Carver believed in God and described his conversion when he was ten years old. He said, “I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station, through which God speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in.”
Now, zoom in on that picture for this:
Tell that to the yahoos on the other side of the state in Ferguson, waiting for Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton to make their lives better. This was said by a man born a slave, who walked eight miles to attend the school in Neosho because the school in Diamond was for whites only. A man who was accepted at Highland College in Kansas, only to be turned away when they found out he was black. A man who went on to earn bachelor’s and master’s degrees from Iowa State (yay, Jay!), the first black man to do so, without quotas, without affirmative action, probably fighting every step of the way. A man who witnessed one lynching and was nearly lynched himself for traveling with a photographer who was a white woman. A man invited to speak at conferences where he had to enter through the service entrance and eat meals with the hired help. A man recognized for his contributions with the establishment of a national monument despite the days of Jim Crow.
A museum true to the man it’s dedicated to – it was indeed a delightful find. I wish we had more like him.