Trifter

George Washington Carver Monument, Diamond, Mo.

George Washington Carver was born during the American Civil War to a slave girl that had been purchased by Moses and Susan Carver, German immigrants.  During a raid on the farm, Mary (his mother), George and a sister were stolen and resold in Kentucky.  Moses Carver hired a man to track down his stolen property, but only George was returned.  Susan and Moses raised George and his older brother, James, as their own children.  Susan taught the boys to read and write.

Blacks were not allowed to attend most of the schools run for white people, even after the Civil war had ended.  George left home at around age 13, and rambled around looking for schools that would accept him.  (To describe his travels is beyond the scope of this article.)  He finally graduated from Minneapolis High School in Minneapolis, Kansas.

After many false starts–including being rejected from one college when they saw the color of his skin–he attended Iowa State, getting both his under-graduate and Master’s degree in Agriculture there.  It was here he was first recognized for his work in plant pathology and mycology.  For a time he was a member of the faculty.

George Washington Carver is best known for his work with peanuts, yams and similar plants.  However, he was also a skilled artist, a musician, and exhibited a deep and abiding faith.  He dedicated his life to “his people” and to improving farming methods for everyone.

The Carver Monument is a little way off Highway 71, between Joplin and Neosho.  The countryside around it is farmland, and the Monument grounds are a worthy setting for commemorating the man who was born there.  As you turn into the park, you enter a grove of Walnut and Cherry trees.  By the drive, just before reaching the parking lot, there is a beautiful median of native and herbal plants.  Along the walk of the main building is  a hedge of red, white and pink roses; on this second day of July, they are in bloom.  My grandson sighs, but waits for me to get pictures.

Inside, an attendant gives us a precis of Carver’s life, as well as directions for the attractions inside the museum.  There are numerous exhibits concerning Carver’s life, as well as a school room set up with tables, benches and slates.  Next door, is a very functional lab, including sinks, Bunsen burners and business-like counters.

Near this area, is a section dedicated to plant life, plant diseases, and an account of free classes Carver once held for area farmers.  My grandson becomes absorbed in the “microscopes” showing micro-organisms that infest plants.

I had not brought the younger children to visit the Carver farm thinking they would be bored.  But as we rounded the corner from the science section, two toddlers were exclaiming over an animal display with buttons to press for animal sounds.  Pseudo-file trays labeled with letters of the alphabet proclaim that Carver “had inventions from A to Z”.

We wander on outside, and follow the walking trail.  This passes first the foundation frame, showing how small the house was where Mary, Carver’s mother, had lived.  It goes on down to an overlook, where we can see two bridges.  It is possible that one is intended to be able to view the statue of young George, located below, but the greenery is too thick to see it.

We wend our way on down the trail, get a couple of snapshots of the statue and some interesting vegetation before following the trail on across the bridge.  We decide to take the “spirit walk” around the backside of the spring-fed pond.  Small plaques with quotations from Carver sprinkle the path.

We admire the pond, examining the over-flow set up.  Grandson spots a snake in the water.  I admire the reflections of trees and sky in the algae-grown waters.  Little fish dart through this greenery.  As the trail winds on around, I attempt to get pictures of where the over-flow returns the water to it’s accustomed bed, but it is obscured by the under growth. 

I do get a shot of the water snake Grandson spotted.

The trail exits the wood near the Carver cemetery.  The simple grave markers are surrounded by a massive stone fence, similar to one that marked the boundary of my great-grandfather’s farm.  Once, this was a common way of building fences in Missouri, since my native state has no shortage of rocks.

The trail ends at a sculpture of George’s head.  There are benches here, and the area is clean and well kept.  A couple of peeling patches on the head, however, testify to the persistent wear of Missouri weather, and possibly a shortage of help.  A button at the base of the statue allows visitors to listen to a commencement presentation given by George Washington Carver near the end of his life.  The recording of his clear, flute-like tenor reminds us that we all come into the world with the same equipment; it is how we use it that counts.