NY 2003

Putting Knowledge to Work®
June 7-12, 2003

By Leslie Shaver

A Painter of Words About the Past

In talking about David McCullough's work, it's hard to know where to begin. There are the two Pulitzers (for works about Harry Truman and John Adams), two National Book Awards (for books about the Panama Canal and Theodore Roosevelt), and accolades from all over, including academia. If this is not enough to show the depth and importance of his work, there may be one other good indication: He has no books out of print.

In addition to writing, McCullough has been an editor, essayist, teacher, lecturer, former president of the American Society of Historians, and a regular on television, appearing on "Smithsonian World" and "The American Experience," and narrating numerous documentaries. He has also become a well-respected speaker, all over the world and even in the White House presidential lecture series. SLA members will get a chance to hear McCullough speak at the annual conference in June.

Leslie Shaver: How did your love of history begin?

David McCullough: I've always loved to read. Before I could read, my mother and grandmother would read to me. Some history was read to me as a child. It was not very difficult, but much of it was very appealing. I continued to read through school. In college, I became pretty sure that I wanted to become a writer, if not a painter. I majored in English. Though I always liked history, I decided I really wanted to make English literature my specialty.

After I graduated from college, I wound up with a job at Time-Life. When President Kennedy was elected, I went to Washington. While I was in Washington, my wife and I happened to go by a table one Saturday afternoon at the Library of Congress. On the table were pictures that had been taken by a Pittsburgh photographer in the 19th century. They were out on display before they were going to be cataloged. They had been given to the Library of Congress by the descendents of the photographer. The pictures were all of the Johnstown flood and its aftermath. Having grown up in western Pennsylvania, I had heard about the disaster, but I didn't know very much about it. I took a book out of the library to read about it, and I thought that book was quite unsatisfactory. I took another one out and, if anything, it was even less well done. I began to think that maybe this was a subject for me to try to write about. I had the privilege of being at Yale at a time when many writers were there as guests or fellows of one of the colleges.

One of them was Thornton Wilder, who had made a big impression on me. I remember in one of his interviews he was asked how he got the ideas for the books and plays he wrote. He said, "I imagine a story I would like to read or see performed on stage. If nobody has written it, I write it so I can read it or see it performed on stage."

Well, I decided to take that as my guide and try to write the book I would like to read about the Johnstown flood. That's how it began. I quickly found that not only was I absorbed in the subject, but I also loved the work. After Kennedy was killed, I went back to work at American Heritage, and there, of course, I was dealing with history all the time for six years. It was a marvelous experience, and I worked with some of the best people in the field. It was during that time that I wrote the book, using the 42nd Street Library during my lunch hour, at nights, and over weekends. Writing that book, I learned how to use a library for the first time. I am enormously indebted to the Library of Congress and the 42nd Street LibraryI've used both ever since for every book I worked on.

LS: Did this help you decide that writing was your life's work?

DM: Oh, yes, I'd found what I wanted to do. I couldn't imagine doing anything that I would enjoy more or find more absorbing. I also greatly liked the people I got to know the people who were also writing history, or who were scholars, or who were librarians. I couldn't do what I do without librarians. Whenever I get the chance, I like to stress how important librarians are and that one should not judge a library only by the collections, but also by the people who are employed there and serve in the library. I can't tell you how many times I've had problems worked out or discoveries made possible by librarians who've taken an interest in what I'm doing. When I'm talking to students, I always say, "Don't try to hide what you don't know from a librarian. Make it very clear what you are trying to do and, if you don't know how to go about doing it, say that. They are there to help you."

When I first started working on the Johnstown book, I thought you don't tell anybody about what you're doing because they'll come along and steal your wonderful idea. Well, I very quickly learned that the best thing you can do is tell as many people as possible what you're working on, because you never know when someone is going to know something about some piece of information that could be of great help.

LS: You followed the Johnstown book up with The Great Bridge. Where did that idea come from?

DM: The Johnstown book is primarily a lesson in the human failure of shortsightedness and irresponsibility. The theme is that it is dangerous and perhaps perilous to assume that the people in positions of responsibility are behaving responsibly. The Johnstown flood was not an act of God or nature. It was brought by human failure human shortsightedness and selfishness. When I was finished with that book, I had two different publishers come to me, one of whom wanted me to write my next book about the Chicago fire. The other one wanted me to write about the San Francisco earthquake. I was being typecast as "Bad News McCullough" at a very young age, and I didn't like that. In fact, what I really wanted to write was a book about a subject that would show that people were not always foolish and inept or irresponsible. While that's part of the human story, there is another part which signifies again and again that we human beings can solve very difficult problems, often far beyond what we think we can do. What I was after was a symbol of affirmation as a counter voice to the Johnstown story.

It came by accident. One never knows where these ideas are going to come from. This one came from two friends in New York one a writer and the other an engineer. They began talking about what the builders of the Brooklyn Bridge didn't know when they set out to build that structure, and I knew right away that was it. The Roeblings [primary characters in the book] came from Pittsburgh, near where I had grown up. My wife and I, when we were first married, lived in Brooklyn Heights, where the Roeblings had been. We walked the Brooklyn Bridge. I love bridges. I've always loved them architecturally.

I came out of that restaurant, went to the 42nd Street Library, and went upstairs to the card catalog set. I was propelled by an idea that was already taking form in my head. My only question was whether someone else had already written the book that I knew I was going to write. There were over 100 cards in the file under the category "Brooklyn Bridge," but none of them described the book that I had in mind. I was on my way.

LS: I thought it was interesting that three of your books dealt with water, whether it was a canal, a bridge, or a flood. Is there anything behind that?

DM: I've gotten some kidding about that, but I don't think so. Maybe there is some psychological feeling I have about water that I don't understand. I think that I felt compelled by both the Brooklyn Bridge and the Panama Canal to show that great constructive projects can be as powerful a story and as revealing of human nature as can such great destructive events as wars. I don't really know why I pick the subjects that I do. Something just clicks, and I just know this is the one I have to do. It's never based on publishers' market studies or the fact that it's going to fill a niche in some scholarly specialty that has not been done before. It's very subjective and visceral. I think it has to be that way, because if you're going to devote all that time and be marinated in it for two, three, five, or even 10 years, you have to have that desire. It's what moves you.

I couldn't understand why these subjects had not been done in the spirit that I wanted to approach them. I think that both of those stories were very American. In each of these big events, there is much to be seen about who we are and what we aspire to do. The cast of characters ranges all over the human spectrum. I found the principals extremely interesting characters. The people are what interested me. I know nothing about bridge engineering, hydraulics, strength of materials, or civil engineering, but I very quickly found that it's possible to understand them and they can be extremely interesting, particularly if you can find someone who will put them in the English language for you. I have had enormous good fortune in the help that I've received in all of my books. There are people who have explained things or looked over what I've written. I like all of that. I have not found being a writer a lonely pursuit, because there are so many people you must work with and interview. With the Brooklyn Bridge book, I had several civil engineers look at what I'd done, because sometimes you don't get it right.

I spent five and a half years in magazine writing and editorial work, and all the who, what, when, and why questions are part of what I do. I'm grateful I had that experience, because I think it taught me to work with a storycast a net that's larger than academic historians are accustomed to. I use photographs as a resource. I try to go to the place where things happened and walk the walk, listen to the sounds, smell the air at night, or whatever it is. I try to study paintings, which are very revealing. For my book on John Adams, I spent days in galleries in London and here just looking at portraits and paintings of the multitude of characters I was dealing with.

LS: You went to great lengths to put yourself in the shoes of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson when you were researching that book. Why did you do that?

DM: I think you only really know something when you feel it. With the Panama book, it was all well and good to sit in a nice, comfortable study and write about the difficulties of working in the heat and the rain of Panama, but you have to go down and feel and see what it was like in human terms. Find out what they were up against in a way that maybe you've never experienced before. And what did the world they struggled in look like? To me, that's part of the fun of it and the joy of it. Some people think there's diplomatic history and there's life, and there's business history and there's life, or there's presidential history and there's life. Life is always mixed up with it. And personality is always a determinant. Always. If you don't understand the natures, the personalities, the failings, the backgrounds of the people involved, you don't understand why things happened the way they did. History is about life. It's awful when the life is squeezed out of it and there's no flavor left, no uncertainties, no horsing around. It always disturbed me how many biographers never gave their subjects a chance to eat. You can tell a lot about people by how they eat, what they eat, and what kind of table manners they have.

LS: Your first biography was about Theodore Roosevelt. You had already done seven books. What drew you into biography?

DM: I had become quite interested in Roosevelt. I began looking into his childhood and the formative time of his life. It was his metamorphosis that fascinated me. This frightened little boy, who was afraid of his shadow, went through this extraordinary transformation to become the symbol of American vitality in the early part of the 20th century. How did that happen? Who did it, and what made it happen? He didn't do it alone. There's no such thing as a self-made person. We're shaped by lots of influences, including other people of all kinds. That interested me.

LS: What were the common bonds between Roosevelt, Truman, and Adams?

DM: None of the three appeared, in a conspicuous way,to be a sure winner. The little, frightened, asthmatic child who is not expected to win and surprises everybody, including himself. It was the idea that Harry Truman of Independence, Missouri the failed haberdasher, the stooge of Pendergast machine, etc.would follow in the footsteps of the great Franklin Roosevelt. Somebody once said that my books were all about courage. Maybe that's so, but I'm not sure. I certainly admire courage in people, particularly people who have the courage of their convictions.

My books are also about fathers and sons. That's a big subject with me. I'm not sure exactly why, but it has been. I think that probably has to do with my having had the experience of being a father more than a son. The Roeblings were father and son, the Gillespes were father and son, and the Adamses were father and son. My books are also about strong womenEmily Roebling, in the book about the Brooklyn Bridge, and, certainly, Abigail Adams, who is one of the most interesting and admirable people I have ever written about from that time.

I don't mean to say I just want to write about admirable people. None of these people was perfect. None was a saint, thank God. They made mistakes and they did stupid things, each and every one of them. I also loved writing about Boss Tweed and writing about some of the scamps and downright scoundrels. I like to write about life and about the human condition.

LS: I read once that you think students don't appreciate history anymore. What do you think of the way history is taught in schools now?

DM: We have a generation of young people who are historically illiterate. This is a serious problem, and it's been apparent for about 20 years. Fortunately, there's some progress now. There's going to be a major federal government effort to improve the teaching of teachers in our schools. We have too many young teachers from schools of education who major in education and then are assigned to teach subjects in which they have no knowledge. We have to go back to encouraging our schools of education and universities and colleges in general to have our future teachers major in a subject, so they know what they're talking about and they have the kind of enthusiasm that comes from knowledge of a subject. We've got to do something to improve the textbooks so many of which are so deadly dull that they were designed to kill one's interest in history.

The example also has to be set at home. That may be the most important thing. We've got to start talking about history with our children and in front of our children. We've got to encourage them to read good books about historybooks that a person would want to read. We have to take children to historic sitespresidential homes or battlefields or whatever. And we can all do that. We can also talk about that part of American history that has interested us most and who our historic heroes are in front of our children. I think the major emphasis should be on children in grade school, because that's when their minds are open and ready to absorb things. They want to learn, and there's no problem getting young people interested in history. Barbara Tuchman said it perfectly in two words, "Tell stories."

To hear more from David McCullough, attend his speech on Monday, June 9, at the 2003 SLA Conference in New York.