The Case for Fiction Part 2
The call is coming from inside the park.
The Case for Fiction part 2: Fiction in Place of—no—Fiction Alongside and within.
Last week, I didn’t write one of these because it was a holiday weekend. When the article was scheduled to come out, I was running my first DND one shot with an amazing group of friends and family, and only messing up a couple mechanics. Before the article was scheduled to release, I hadn’t written it either, due to the cram of Thanksgiving cooking, attempts to squeeze in conversations and also to eat, and a hurried rush of behind-the-scenes deadlines that I won’t talk about anymore unless something happens!
I also had the opportunity to tour Mammoth Cave with a couple of said family and friends. The second time on the same tour, but with a different guide. It’s always nice to hear the different perspectives and stories that stick with different rangers who give tours. As an incredibly simplistic example, some may focus more on the history of a place, some more on the geology, and some more on the mystery.
Oh no, I’m doing a thing… This was going to be the blog about Fiction in Place of reality, the postitives… but I’ve reminded myself of a topic I was going to save for later down the line.
Two weeks ago, the blog established one important fact. I daydreamed about imaginary vending machines. Wait, what I was really was hoping to establish was something much more generic. People daydream, and in the fertile historic and natural ground of a national park it’s almost impossible to stop. So why not embrace it?
Fiction is additive, engaging, and might lead to learning more about the truths preserved within the park. Which is what I hope my books do. I don’t want anyone to read them and take everything written within as fact (more on that in the future.) I want people to read my stories and become inspired to learn more. I want the Junior Rangers Investigative Club novels to provide, simply, another perspective on the parks.
Another perspective,
If I could for a several long moments speak (type) as someone who has lived in, visited and has done, is doing and will continue to research National Parks, has heard from guides, interested tourists, past park rangers, current park rangers, and has reviewed articles written about parks by Doctors, Masters Students, rangers, and tourists, and who has spoken to people who have lived in parks their whole lives, and others who have lived near them but never visited, and every potential between, then I would like to note how perspective can shift, stories can change, and the facts and figures we hold so dear are not always as concrete as we would like.
Mentioned a couple weeks ago, when I was still on my ghost kick: I found a ghost hunting show which investigated the Dry Tortugas. What shocked me the most about the show (other than an apparent archeological indiscretion the likes of which would have Dr. Carmen Benitez fuming,) was the fact that I recognized some of the ghost stories, but only in parts. A ghost that moved pencils, pens, and papers around-check. A cemetery full of yellow fever victims washed away by storms and time-check. Shadows, whispers, and spooky lights-check.
However, these came with details drastically different from the haunting tales I remember. The supposed pencil, paper, and pen incidents happened beneath the harbor light. Impossible! (There is a powder magazine on the second floor under the harbor light, but it hasn’t been used since the fort was abandoned by the military. No one was using that dark and decayed room to draw maps, paint or hang out in.) The pencil and pens incident, which were spoken of by several people while I lived out there, occurred around Private Winter’s corner. (Where the 2nd floor powder magazine has been converted into a useful room.) The creepy lights that were singled out in the video were actually lights from Fort Jefferson’s modern generators, which can be seen from Bird Key (the sunken ghost cemetery) at night. The only “ghosts” mentioned in the video were Dr. Mudd who was freed and died at home with his family years after leaving Fort Jefferson, and, maybe, Dr. Smith, one of the early victims of the yellow fever outbreak. The monument to his, and his son’s death was mistaken as a headstone, although he was not buried on Garden Key. (An easy mistake to make, used to think it was a headstone too.)
There was no mention of Private Winters. The most famous ghost while I was out at the Dry Tortugas. He doesn’t even get a namedrop, and the ghost hunters spend their vacation exploring the wrong section of the fort. It was as though the ‘true’ ghost stories of my childhood had been mangled by a game of telephone, ghost stories changed through the whispers of people passing them along half-heard.
Sticking with ghosts, I find similar discrepancies 1,600 miles north, in Mammoth Cave. I’ve now heard, read, and researched the story of a ghost named Melissa so many times that I could turn those stories into self-contained episode of my own. (There’s no reason to do that, as an amalgamation of all of those stories will appear in book two and is being illustrated by Bailey as we speak.) But I will not because. . . she is nothing but a story to begin with. Her origins are from a letter published anonymously in the Knickerbocker magazine in February of 1858. (You can look it up today, as the entire magazine is archived online. Although I have trouble linking to it.)
But Knickerbocker was a literary magazine, and the letter—story— is widely believed to be false. Smarter people than I have done a better job of uncovering this information, and this is an article about it I can link: Murder by Darkness: Does Mammoth Cave’s Specter Harbor a Secret? | Skeptical Inquirer)
My point is Melissa the ghost, who lured a man into the depths of Mammoth Cave, probably isn’t real. Yet her story is inextricably linked now to Mammoth Cave. And although it changes with time, it has persisted. Rangers have stories about hearing her dress flutter in the darkness around Echo River. People report voices calling out as though to lovers are seeking each other in the rarely explored depths of the cave. Various hauntings have been attributed to this fictional ghost. And it is easy to find her, in searches of Mammoth Cave, despite her fictitious origins.
Let’s move on to other fictions linked to parks. I’ve been researching two ‘historical’ pirates associated with Biscayne National Park. Black Caesar, and Henri Caesar. Both are, according to accounts online pirates of strong repute associated with Elliot Key. Both amassed and hid vast fortunes in or around the island, despite living a century apart and being otherwise unrelated.
Black Caesar was, supposedly a pirate with his own tales of glory and terror before he teamed up with Blackbeard. His tale came an abrupt end when he was captured with most of Blackbeard’s Crew and hanged. You can find many stories about him online, and rumors of treasure still to be found in southern Florida. One problem. Delve into the history of this notorious pirate, and there are few credible sources. Most of those simply list a black man named Caesar amongst the crew of captives from the Queen Anne’s Revenge, who was executed for his pirate affiliation. The rest of his terrible exploits seem to come from a book written, and believed vastly fantasized, decades after his death.
As for Henri Caesar. His origin was in the Haitian Rebellion. A fight for the freedom of the people enslaved by the French in Haiti, that should be researched and talked about more. Henri Caesar, a young boy who took up arms in that fight before taking to sail and privateering/pirating, and using Elliot Key as his base of operations, until the US Navy began their war with Caribbean pirates, sank his boat and captured him. He was executed in Key West.
One of many problems: The timelines don’t match historic records. Key West was once the capital of Florida, and one would expect record of any such prominent execution, but I haven’t found one yet. (still looking.) Instead of historical documents, Henri Caesar’s origins seem to come from a line of fiction books. One a novel written in the 1920’s that I cannot recommend* which seems to pull the story of Black Caesar a hundred years into his future, (into the 1800’s,) and a book that I haven’t been able to read because it’s typically priced way above my research budget about the titular Henri Caesar. – where most of his legend seems to come from.
* The novel not only gets the geology of Florida wrong, (suggesting a tunnel could be dug between islands without flooding.) It also is very of it’s time. There’s some interesting historical places named, but having learned about some of the real history of the upper keys at this time, at best he writer was ignorant of the real people who lived there, at worst he was indirectly slandering them.
Caesar’s Rock, in Caesar’s Creek. Rumored at one point to contain a metal hook so one of the Pirates Caesar could swamp their vessel and hide it in the shallow fast moving channel.
Ahh! Too many possible asides. The point is: look up Biscayne Bay and you will, hopefully, find lots of useful and correct information. But you will also discover stories about these two pirates. Real or not their legacy is maintained in the names Caesar’s Creek and Caesars Rock. Two locations which can be visited to this day. And a legacy of treasure searches and pirate tales, a legacy probably based in fiction, and more charitably based in embellishment.
Let’s briefly mention some other areas rife for speculation in parks: cryptozoology and unsolved mysteries of those who have gone missing in national parks. I don’t want to linger here long, as I feel these often toe the line between enriching problematic engagement with national parks, and I want to save that for a later blog article. But many a hiker discovers the wonders of the northwestern parks while searching for bigfoot. And entire podcasts have been spun out of speculative supposition about people who have vanished from national parks. (These should serve, if nothing else, as a reminder to take a friend, let people know where you are going, and always approach the outdoors prepared and informed.)
Modern map of Biscayne National Park, showing the location of Caesar’s Creek and Caesar’s Rock.
Fiction exists alongside truths in parks in ways beyond mistaken ghost stories and actual literary fiction. There are the fictions told by mistake, stories transliterated through the telephone game of time, and the assumptions and guesses we make to fill in the gaps in our knowledge. There are fictions told by the people who came before us (such as the stories told about the mummies ‘discovered’ in Mammoth Cave.) There are fictions told when people make mistaken assumptions about the past. There is the less recognizable fiction of prominence which will get it’s own blog post later down the line. There’s fiction as our best possible theory for history/geological past built of the scattered evidence we still have. And so much more.
Researching these parks, I find all of these. Online I find evidence of these fictions and appetite for them. Talking to people interested in parks, I hear about many mysteries, speculations, and ideas of intrigue. There are many ghost stories about Mammoth Cave. (and now a few more about the Dry Tortugas.) There are many pirate stories about the Florida Keys and treasure. (Real ones too, but also a lot based in fiction.) There are many a page dedicated to bigfoot, aliens, and more in various national parks.
An old chart of the upper keys from the 1800’s. “Caesar’s Creek” is instead labeled as Black Sarah’s Creek. Interestingly, I’m pretty sure I’ve found older charts where it is called Caesar’s Creek. Still need to do more research.
I’m sure some of these fictions annoy or frustrate people who try share the real history and nature of a park. Questions about Caesar’s Treasure might be a thorn in the side to people who have read the articles and understand it probably isn’t real and would rather talk about the real people who lived in Biscayne. Questions about ghosts on a cave tour might make a ranger roll their eyes. (although I have heard a surprising amount of ghost stories from rangers themselves.) Stumbling upon a group hunting bigfoot while trying to talk about the majesty of a thousand-year-old redwood might be annoying. However, that audience exists. That appetite for these stories is there.
Fiction already exists in our national parks. I challenge you to present a park whose stories subsist entirely in the realm of reality, or whose audience isn’t also discussing the potential for secrets, ghosts, hidden intrigue or more. What we choose to do with these fictions matters. We can ignore them, and not engage. We can indulge them. We can acknowledge them and use them. Or we can make our own fictions based upon the daydreams, potential, and based within what we know hoping not to misinform but instead to kindle interest in.
I am crafting my own fiction. But if I do that while ignoring the fiction already existing, I am simply ignoring part of what makes each park distinct at the risk of ignoring an audience which obviously exists. How can I write about the Redwoods without mentioning bigfoot hunters? How can I write about White Sands without talking about the UFO highway nearby? How can write about the history of southern Florida without mentioning pirates and treasure? Easily, I guess, but at the expense of people who are interested in those things.
Fiction about national parks shouldn’t masquerade as truth. I don’t want people to come away from my books believing that they will find a pirate treasure which doesn’t exists, speak to a ghost written into existence by another fiction author, or thinking that they can safely navigate the depths of the earth based upon my hasty descriptions of a cave. I want people to come away from my books interested in learning more about the parks, interested in exploring them, interested in doing more research, interested in asking questions. Much of what I do is research. Much of what I do is imagination. Some of what I write engages with other fictions.
All of what I do is just my way of providing another perspective on our National Parks. One which will hopefully interest some, (hopefully many.) One which may inform a bit. One which should never be taken as a complete authority. And one which under the best of circumstances, with the best will of intention, with a lot of inexpert hard work and time, might add another fiction to some of our national parks, but hopefully one worth reading.
Did I betray my thoughts on Bigfoot here? Oh well, I wont count him out entirely. I’m just saying, that a big bear-like creature in a place known to have bears is not the most engaging cryptid. I’m not too worried about bigfoot hunters revenge anyway, who will read this far into this long and rambling 3rd part of an ongoing disorganized essay anyway? Speaking of Cryptids, Have you heard of the Mokele - Mbembe?