Here on the Edge answers the growing interest in a long-neglected element of World War II history: the role of pacifism in what is often called “The Good War.” Steve McQuiddy shares the fascinating story of one conscientious objector camp located on the rain-soaked Oregon Coast, Civilian Public Service (CPS) Camp #56. As home to the Fine Arts Group at Waldport, the camp became a center of activity where artists and writers from across the country focused their work not so much on the current war, but on what kind of society might be possible when the shooting finally stopped.
They worked six days a week—planting trees, crushing rock, building roads, and fighting forest fires—in exchange for only room and board. At night, they published books under the imprint of the Untide Press. They produced plays, art, and music—all during their limited non-work hours, with little money and few resources. This influential group included poet William Everson, later known as Brother Antoninus, “the Beat Friar”; violinist Broadus Erle, founder of the New Music Quartet; fine arts printer Adrian Wilson; Kermit Sheets, co-founder of San Francisco’s Interplayers theater group; architect Kemper Nomland, Jr.; and internationally renowned sculptor Clayton James.
After the war, camp members went on to participate in the San Francisco Poetry Renaissance of the 1950s, which heavily influenced the Beat Generation of Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, and Gary Snyder—who in turn inspired Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters, leading the way to the 1960s upheavals epitomized by San Francisco’s Summer of Love.
As camp members engaged in creative acts, they were plowing ground for the next generation, when a new set of young people, facing a war of their own in Vietnam, would populate the massive peace movements of the 1960s.
Twenty years in the making and packed with original research, Here on the Edge is the definitive history of the Fine Arts Group at Waldport, documenting how their actions resonated far beyond the borders of the camp. It will appeal to readers interested in peace studies, World War II history, influences on the 1960s generation, and in the rich social and cultural history of the West Coast.
Broadus "Bus" Erle, a violin virtuoso and the husband of my dad's cousin Hildegard Rees, was a WWII conscientious objector (CO) in the Civilian Public Service (CPS). He served in four different CPS camps, including Camp #56, aka Camp Angel, near the coastal village of Waldport, OR. This book is about the School of Fine Arts established there by CO's in 1944. It drew in not only Bus, but also Hildegarde, herself an accomplished pianist and stage actress, who was able to live in a nearby cabin. Both were integral to the school's rich artistic and social fabric. McQuiddy says the school, especially its writers, were part of creative currents that nurtured 1950s and 1960s counterculture on the West Coast. He also provides interesting insights into COs during "The Good War" and the CPS, whose camps were run by pacifistic religious organizations. On a more personal level, it was wonderful to learn more about Bus, but especially Hildegarde, whom I met a few times while growing up. While with the School of Fine Arts, Bus performed in at least four concerts in a string quartet, Hildegarde in plays by Shaw and Chekhov, and both them as a duet in two concerts, the latter of which was at the Portland Public Library. All in all, McQuiddy has put together a highly compelling microhistory.
"Bus Erle had been joined by his wife, Hildegarde, and their young daughter, and they all moved into a cabin just behind the Tillie the Whale skeleton at the entrance to the court. Bus and Hildegarde were East Coast intellectuals, and a favorite pastime of theirs, which they called simply 'The Game,' quickly caught on. It was a kind of charades, with someone acting out the parts of a song or book title - which could get quite complicated for items like the collection of essays written about James Joyce's Finnegan's Wake, titled 'Our Examination Round his Factifaction for Incamination of Work in Progress,' or the Glenn Miller hit, 'It Must Be Jelly ('Cause Jam Don't Shake Like That)' — accompanied by much laughing and shouting as their daughter slept soundly in the other room. One night in the Harvey cabin, as the radio played and the wine no doubt flowed, the group heard a thumping in the kitchen, where the Rubins were dancing-heavy-set Jerry and the much lighter Jan-prompting Kermit to quip, 'It must be Jerry 'cause Jan don't shake like that!.'" p193
An absolutely riveting read! I had no idea there were 150 Civilian Public Service camps in the United States, including four in Oregon––Cascade Locks/Wyeth, Elkton, LaPine and #56 in Waldport (Camp Angel, Camp Waldport) for Conscientious Objectors. The boys and young men came from all over the United States, most of who had never ventured far, and camp room and board was paid for by three historic peace churches, including Friends (Quakers), Mennonites and the Brethren.
In Waldport, camp residents worked in brutal rains and mud, planted over a million trees, built roads and fought forest fires. Loved watching the social organizations among the camp members come to life as the camp began, with the official camp newsletter, the Tide, followed by the underground newsletter, the Untide. Then the blossoming of the arts and poetry, literature, drawing, theatre and more. The Fine Arts Group alumni, were amazing, and influenced all sorts of people involved in the Beat Generation and the San Francisco Renaissance of the 1950s and '60s.
Meticulously researched, author Steve McQuiddy (bravo!) has brought to life a chapter of WWII that has largely been overlooked. Someone needs to make the movie (come in, Ethan Hawke)!
This is the kind of drill-down by an outside observer that has generally been lacking in histories of Civilian Public Service, one of the most important experiments in democracy that our country has ever undertaken. From 1940 to 1947, some 12,000 conscientious objectors to war were classified 4-E and assigned to work camps run by CPS, a collaboration of the USA's three major historic peace churches - Mennonites, Church of the Brethren, and Quakers.
McQuiddy's book is valuable because he's fascinated by the idea of CPS and conveys his interest on every page, including the kind of detail that may eventually lose some readers despite his best efforts. But it's also valuable because of the CPS camp he chose to profile: Waldport #56, a converted CCC camp located 200 yards from the Oregon coast, which as Lewis & Clark's men discovered can be a miserable place to spend the winter. There some 120 "conchies" chopped wood for fuel, put out forest fires in the summer, and did their best to set a good example for their suspicious neighbors.
They also, McQuiddy makes clear, had a lot of fun. The author focuses his book on the kind of CO who was emerging at this time, the political on non-religious objector to war, and on the Waldport group's efforts to make the best of their shared internment through a Fine Arts group. This group, which eats up the middle third of the book, published a number of poetry and literary journals that circulated among the CPS camps across the land, and put on Shakespeare plays and whatnot. They also partied and had sex with the few young women who graced their camp, and got into scrapes with the same townsfolk their more pious campmates (and supervisors) were trying to impress. McQuiddy clearly enjoys telling of the bohemian ways of this group. After all, this was wartime, and as anyone who has read the story of CBS news reporters in London, The Murrow Boys, knows, war was a time when the conventional rules did not apply, especially to noncombatants.
Still, it is a lot of detail, and I don't want anyone diving in to think this is a scintillating read start to finish. And I never really got any of the flavor of the camp outside the remnant that eschewed religion or took part in Fine Arts. The opening chapters give a very good overview of COs and life at a CPS camp, and in general the book is going to be a valuable record of a time that was never really that well documented outside of the participating churches.
I grew up in Oregon and although my parents weren’t in the Northwest during WWII, they shared some stories of what happened here during the war: the shelling of Fort Stevens, the internment of the Japanese and Japanese-Americans, the incendiary balloons that Japan launched toward the Northwest forests, the beach patrols and black outs. But, if they knew about the Civilian Public Service camps, I don’t remember them sharing that information.
McQuiddy has written about a fascinating piece of WWII history. The peace churches, Friends, Mennonites and Brethren went to President Franklin Roosevelt with a proposal to run camps for conscientious objectors (CO’s) who refused to serve in the military in noncombatant roles. The proposal was for the CO’s to do work of “national importance” in camps run by the churches. In the Northwest that mostly meant forestry work—tree planting, trail and road building and maintenance, fire fighting, etc. McQuiddy tells the story of Angel Camp near Waldport, Oregon, and of the men who lived and worked there. The camp, #56, became a nexus for the arts. One of their publications offered this mission statement, “These are the years of destruction; we offer against them the creative act.”
This is an amazing story and McQuiddy does a very good job of writing it. I think he goes a little far in intimating that this small band of men (and a few women) was the seed from which grew the San Francisco renaissance and peace movement of 60’s.
This book, which I picked up at the Cloud & Leaf boosktore at Manzanita Beach this summer, was soul-quenching on so many levels. I felt as if I had found my people-- the conscientious objectors of World War II who were also artists, writers, musicians, craftspeople, designers, and actors --too bad they lived in a previous generation and I couldn't get to know them personally. Where are we now? We need to come together again and form a new revolution...Thank you Steve McQuidddy for bringing this group back to life.
Here on the Edge: How a small group of World War II conscientious objectors took art and peace from the margins to the mainstream (Paperback) by Steve McQuiddy
inscribed by author, "To Elizabeth-- Thanks for your dedication to peace! Steve McQuiddy." xref author event, Sat. 11/15/2014, Newport Visual Arts Center.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The subject is covered with incredible detail, but what is lost is an overall picture of how this small group of conscientious objectors fits in the broader cultural context. Best for a reader with a particular rather than broad interest in the subject.
When I started this book, I was afrid it was going to be too academic. It was very detailed, but also very readable and interesting. I learned about so many interesting ideas and events.