Alfred Jacob Miller, Crossing the River: Moonlight (1858-1860). Courtesy Walters Art Museum.
Named Dr. Ralph & Edna Wooster Professor of History, September 6, 2024
Courtesy of the Department of History, Lamar University.
I am honored that the Lamar University College of Arts and Sciences and the Department of History selected me for the 2024-2026 Dr. Ralph and Edna Wooster Endowed Professorship in History. I follow my colleagues Rebecca Boone and Jeff Forret in receiving this distinction. In 2019, the Wooster Family created this endowment to “promote excellence in teaching and research” within the faculty of the Department of History and in so doing, “perpetuate Ralph Wooster’s reputation for distinguished scholarship, collegial and responsible academic citizenship, and outstanding teaching.”
Ralph Wooster was the son of John and Cleo Wooster and grew up in Wooster, Texas, outside of Baytown, where his father operated a service station. After graduating high school, he married Edna Jones and worked his way through college, earning his PhD in 1953 from the University of Texas. The US Army drafted Wooster, and he joined the Historical Division serving in Germany. In 1955, he and his wife returned to Texas, and he began his fifty-one-year career at Lamar University. In addition to chair of the Department of History, Wooster served as Dean of Graduate Studies, Dean of Faculties, and Associate Vice President for Academic Affairs. Despite these administrative duties, he published prodigiously, writing and editing eleven books, seventy articles, and more one hundred book reviews. He was an expert on secession and the Civil War, the World Wars, and Texas history. With his Lamar colleague Adrian Anderson, he co-authored Texas and Texans (1972-2003, Texas History 2016) which has been the standard seventh-grade textbook since its original publication in 1972. In 2006, Wooster retired as professor emeritus from Lamar. He passed away in Corpus Christi in 2018.
I did not get to know Ralph Wooster as much as I would have liked, but he had a significant impact on my career. He was one of the peer reviewers of my first book manuscript, More Zeal than Discretion (2008). His notes and revision recommendations were extensive and saved me from numerous embarrassing missteps. I joined the Lamar history faculty the year after Dr. Wooster retired, and for the first few years, he often came to his office, and I enjoyed the opportunity to talk history with him. Although Lamar hired me to teach the Civil War class that he taught for half a century, my conversations with him alerted me to how little I knew about the subject. Before he moved from Beaumont, he gave me his copy of the entire run of the journal Civil War History—which contains many of his articles and book reviews. Although we have long since moved into a digital world, I still hold this collection in the History Department.
Although I knew well and relied upon Ralph Wooster’s work as a scholar of Texas Civil War history, I did not fully appreciate his true legacy until I came to Lamar. Many times in the last twenty years, I encountered former students who were eager—insistent really—to share their memories of “Dr. Wooster.” With few exceptions, they declared that Dr. Wooster was their favorite professor at Lamar. Some of them were non-history majors. They not only remembered how he brought history to life for them, but also how his demand for excellence made them better students.
I am grateful to Dr. Wooster and the Wooster family. I will use the time and resources accorded by the professorship to wrap up the research and writing of my current book manuscript This Empire Grim, and it will provide me the opportunity to launch headlong into the next project.
Ralph Wooster was the son of John and Cleo Wooster and grew up in Wooster, Texas, outside of Baytown, where his father operated a service station. After graduating high school, he married Edna Jones and worked his way through college, earning his PhD in 1953 from the University of Texas. The US Army drafted Wooster, and he joined the Historical Division serving in Germany. In 1955, he and his wife returned to Texas, and he began his fifty-one-year career at Lamar University. In addition to chair of the Department of History, Wooster served as Dean of Graduate Studies, Dean of Faculties, and Associate Vice President for Academic Affairs. Despite these administrative duties, he published prodigiously, writing and editing eleven books, seventy articles, and more one hundred book reviews. He was an expert on secession and the Civil War, the World Wars, and Texas history. With his Lamar colleague Adrian Anderson, he co-authored Texas and Texans (1972-2003, Texas History 2016) which has been the standard seventh-grade textbook since its original publication in 1972. In 2006, Wooster retired as professor emeritus from Lamar. He passed away in Corpus Christi in 2018.
I did not get to know Ralph Wooster as much as I would have liked, but he had a significant impact on my career. He was one of the peer reviewers of my first book manuscript, More Zeal than Discretion (2008). His notes and revision recommendations were extensive and saved me from numerous embarrassing missteps. I joined the Lamar history faculty the year after Dr. Wooster retired, and for the first few years, he often came to his office, and I enjoyed the opportunity to talk history with him. Although Lamar hired me to teach the Civil War class that he taught for half a century, my conversations with him alerted me to how little I knew about the subject. Before he moved from Beaumont, he gave me his copy of the entire run of the journal Civil War History—which contains many of his articles and book reviews. Although we have long since moved into a digital world, I still hold this collection in the History Department.
Although I knew well and relied upon Ralph Wooster’s work as a scholar of Texas Civil War history, I did not fully appreciate his true legacy until I came to Lamar. Many times in the last twenty years, I encountered former students who were eager—insistent really—to share their memories of “Dr. Wooster.” With few exceptions, they declared that Dr. Wooster was their favorite professor at Lamar. Some of them were non-history majors. They not only remembered how he brought history to life for them, but also how his demand for excellence made them better students.
I am grateful to Dr. Wooster and the Wooster family. I will use the time and resources accorded by the professorship to wrap up the research and writing of my current book manuscript This Empire Grim, and it will provide me the opportunity to launch headlong into the next project.
Marking Twenty Years Teaching History, August 22, 2024
Western Washington University, Sehome Hill in the background, Spring 2005.
With the start of classes this semester, I mark the twentieth year that I have taught history full time at the university of level. In the fall of 2004, I started a one-year visiting position at Western Washington University in Bellingham. I was still an ABD at SMU living in the Metroplex, when my mentor Sherry Smith informed me of the opportunity, and I believe I owe her for a good word to Chris Friday, a fellow historian of the US West and chair of the department at WWU at the time.
I was fortunate that Chris treated my time at WWU like an apprenticeship—and a much needed one. He appointed Steven Garfinkel as my faculty mentor, and both were generous with their time and offering advice that I still use today. In addition to US survey courses, Chris gave me the opportunity to teach upper-level courses on early North America and the American Revolution as well as permitted me to develop my own course on gender and the borderlands. At the time, WWU needed someone to cover Alan Gallay’s classes. He had just won the Bancroft Award for his fantastic The Indian Slave Trade, and he was on leave that year. Fortunately for me, he was often in his office, and he graciously shared his notes and assignments from his American Revolution class. I enjoyed numerous conversations with Kathleen Kennedy and learned much from her as I began to better understand myself as a culture historian. We later worked together when she contributed an article on Francis Parkman to The Martial Imagination, an anthology I edited for TAMU Press. Jim Rohrer was also there on a one-year appointment, and I remember him fondly for his support and comradery. We often shared dinner and watched movies together.
How could one not fall in love with the Pacific Northwest like I did? I don’t know if a more beautiful campus exists than WWU—situated on the slopes of Sehome Hill with gorgeous views of Bellingham Bay to the west and the imposing snow-capped Mount Baker to the east. I often graded blue books in a carrel at the library with a window that opened out onto the bay with views of the Canadian Cascades in the distance. I enjoyed excursions through the northern Cascades, the Chuckanuts, Puget Sound, and the Olympic peninsula. For the first time, I saw wild bald and golden eagles. Seattle became my favorite US city. I have yet to make it back although I often daydream of retiring to the region. After WWU, I went on to one-year positions at Nevada-Reno and UT Dallas before coming to Lamar in the fall of 2007.
The people I met at WWU probably will not remember me, and even less likely would recognize me. I have much more mass these days. My hair is white, and I have much less of it. Nevertheless, thanks to their welcoming generosity and professionalism, I discovered that I enjoyed teaching history—a surprise to me at the time, and if I have enjoyed any success in that area, I owe a significant debt to those who were my friends and colleagues for a year.
I was fortunate that Chris treated my time at WWU like an apprenticeship—and a much needed one. He appointed Steven Garfinkel as my faculty mentor, and both were generous with their time and offering advice that I still use today. In addition to US survey courses, Chris gave me the opportunity to teach upper-level courses on early North America and the American Revolution as well as permitted me to develop my own course on gender and the borderlands. At the time, WWU needed someone to cover Alan Gallay’s classes. He had just won the Bancroft Award for his fantastic The Indian Slave Trade, and he was on leave that year. Fortunately for me, he was often in his office, and he graciously shared his notes and assignments from his American Revolution class. I enjoyed numerous conversations with Kathleen Kennedy and learned much from her as I began to better understand myself as a culture historian. We later worked together when she contributed an article on Francis Parkman to The Martial Imagination, an anthology I edited for TAMU Press. Jim Rohrer was also there on a one-year appointment, and I remember him fondly for his support and comradery. We often shared dinner and watched movies together.
How could one not fall in love with the Pacific Northwest like I did? I don’t know if a more beautiful campus exists than WWU—situated on the slopes of Sehome Hill with gorgeous views of Bellingham Bay to the west and the imposing snow-capped Mount Baker to the east. I often graded blue books in a carrel at the library with a window that opened out onto the bay with views of the Canadian Cascades in the distance. I enjoyed excursions through the northern Cascades, the Chuckanuts, Puget Sound, and the Olympic peninsula. For the first time, I saw wild bald and golden eagles. Seattle became my favorite US city. I have yet to make it back although I often daydream of retiring to the region. After WWU, I went on to one-year positions at Nevada-Reno and UT Dallas before coming to Lamar in the fall of 2007.
The people I met at WWU probably will not remember me, and even less likely would recognize me. I have much more mass these days. My hair is white, and I have much less of it. Nevertheless, thanks to their welcoming generosity and professionalism, I discovered that I enjoyed teaching history—a surprise to me at the time, and if I have enjoyed any success in that area, I owe a significant debt to those who were my friends and colleagues for a year.
Convened the Greater Gulf Symposium, April 15-16, 2024
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The highlight of my academic year is convening the Third Annual Greater Gulf Symposium as director of the Center for History and Culture and Lamar University. This year, we coordinated with Symposium Chair Tara Dudley (UT Austin) and invited six Symposium Fellows--Timothy Grieve-Carlson (Westminster College. PA), Asma Mehan (Texas Tech), Andrea Ringer (Tennessee State), Kelley Robinson (Florida State), Barry Stiefel (College of Charleston), and Jermaine Thibodeaux (University of Oklahoma)--to workshop their projects on the built and unbuilt culture of the greater Gulf region. As in past symposiums, we enjoyed a warm spirit collegiality and camaraderie. I felt privileged to spend these several days with intelligent and curious people who ask interesting questions about important subjects and who enthusiastically support each other's work.
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Presented at the Society for the Study of the American Gothic, March 22, 2024
I presented at the inaugural symposium of the Society for the Study of the American Gothic at Salem, Massachusetts. My paper entitled "I Tore Out All Their Hearts: Maniac Fathers on the Expansionist Frontier" is part of my larger book project This Empire Grim (for more information click here). In the frontier literature of the early nineteenth-century, the Indian Hater figures as a kind of antihero whose vengeance for the loss of family members justifies the violence against Native Americans and thereby sanctions the territorial expansion of the United States. But viewed as a gothic madman, the Indian Hater becomes a dark warning to those fathers who follow their avarice into contested borderlands and sacrifice their wives and children on the altar of manifest destiny. Driven insane by their severe shame for having failed their roles as protectors of their families, the maniac fathers found in the works of James Hall, Robert Montgomery Bird, Charles Wilkins Webber, and others are tragic characters whose violence appalls and demands condemnation.