Historically Speaking

What Our Kids Don’t Know About

History & Geography Is Dangerous

By Tom Morrow           Our schools today, from kindergarten through high school and beyond, are increasingly putting less emphasis on history and geography and more on science and math. While the latter certainly are keys to leading a successful life, young people of all ages have to know where we’ve been and where they’re going, as well as directions (maps) on how to get there.          You’ve heard the saying, (or words to the effect), “If we don’t study history and learn from it, we’re bound to repeat it.” The Roman Empire comes to mind when I look at where our nation is headed. If you’ve studied history and you keep up with current affairs, you’ll know what I mean.          For those of you who watched Jeff Foxworthy’s “Smarter Than A 5^th Grader” a few years back, you’ll recall just how ignorant many adults are, especially when it comes to history and geography. I recall one man, who had a doctorate degree in mathematics, didn’t know that New Mexico wasn’t on an ocean. He guessed “The Pacific.”          A few years ago when I was in the daily newspaper grind, I passed a lead onto one of our advertising representatives about a restaurant in San Marcos, whose owner was interested in our paper. The saleswoman was a twenty-something, bright, cheerful, and eager to be a success. She replied to my tip by asking, “Where’s San Marcos?”          Now, for those of you who don’t remember, I was a daily columnist for the Blade-Citizen. San Marcos is relatively close by to the east of Oceanside. I asked this young woman how long she had been in San Diego County?          “Oh, all my life. I was born and raised in Del Mar.”          Go figure…          Whenever I get the chance, I ask assorted questions of my grandchildren about what they’re studying in school, and I’ll toss in a couple of questions about history and geography. I’m amazed by the homework loads our youngsters are saddled with almost on a daily basis – and, it starts in kindergarten. Recently, I was talking to a fifth-grader in Arizona, who told me that in his class they have some history, but geography wasn’t among his subjects. I asked if he knew what direction San Diego was from Phoenix. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t know the capital of Arizona or California, nor how many states in the union.          I recall having geography classes beginning in third grade and going all through eighth grade. By the time I was in sixth grade, I not only knew the annual wheat yield of the Ukraine, but I knew where it was on the map. I don’t mean for that statement to be a boast, but a fact – we received a well-rounded education when I was growing up in Iowa.          From a young age, the only thing I ever wanted out of Iowa was me. I figured I needed a good education about the rest of the world so I could know where I was going. That grounding I received in history and geography came in handy when I joined the Navy. For the next four years I island-hopped from Oahu to Wake Island, to Kwajalein, to Guam, Iwo Jima, Midway, Okinawa, Japan, the Philippines, the Aleutians and I could appreciate the historical significance these places held.          Here’s a test for you: ask your grandchildren or great-grandchildren what body of water is associated with any or all of the above? I won’t insult readers by giving the answer because if you’re reading this, you probably know the answer. But, if your youngsters don’t know, then how sad is that? It’s not their fault, it’s the short-comings of our educational system and it isn’t just here in California, but all across the nation.          As long as school curriculum is dictated from Washington, D.C., then our nation’s educational system will continue to short-change our youngsters in history and geography. But, why should a student have to wait until college to find out the important elements of where we’ve been in history, how to locate the world’s southern-most national capital city and who founded it.

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Below, the next chapter of my novella, "Dark Angel."

Chapter

12

       Detective Danny Saenz was juggling three murders at once, but it was the Dobbins’ case that kept him awake at night. While the two recent sniper killings were disturbing in an interesting sort of way, something kept gnawing at him concerning the Dobbins case. Danny told Lt. Brad Hastings, head of homicide, he wanted to bring in a criminologist from USC to take a reading of the blood spatters.

       “The answers to this case lie in the spatters,” Danny told his boss.

       “That’s gonna cost the department some big bucks,” Hastings said.

       “Well, I think I can wrap up that case in a nice neat bow if I can get someone to verify my conclusion.”

       “And, what might that be?”

       “I think the old man did it,” Danny replied. “But, I need an expert to read the tea leaves – in this case, the blood spatters.”

       In forensic science, reading blood spatters has become an intricate tool in solving many violent crimes. Most of the experts are university professors and researchers. Only the largest of law enforcement agencies can afford to keep a full-time criminologist on staff.

       Danny hesitated from going to a private university such as Southern Cal, but the state criminologist is so much in demand from the hundreds of small departments around this state of 38 million souls, he didn’t want to wait in line in order to solve the case.

       “Give USC a call,” Hastings said. “I’ll figure out how to get it paid for, but the chief isn’t gonna like it.”

       Within two days Danny was informed a USC criminologist would be in Oceanside on Friday afternoon. As promised, Prof. David Cho walked into the squad room, asking for Detective Saenz.

       “That’d be me,” Danny said, extending his hand to the university expert.

       The detective spent the next hour bringing Professor Cho up to speed on the Dobbins’ case. He then took Cho out to the crime scene to point out the various blood spatters, faint as they were. Danny gave the professor his assessment, that the murderer used some sort of club to beat Harriett Dobbins to death. He pointed out a line of spatters up the side of the wall.

       “Have you used the ultra-violet light on the ceiling?” Cho asked.

       “No,” Danny said somewhat sheepishly. “I was trying to put everything together with the spatters going up the wall.”

       A forensic tech was summoned to the Dobbins’ home. The ultra-violet light revealed small, faint spatters on the ceiling.

       “Your perpetrator probably caused the victim’s blood to be sprayed up the wall and onto the ceiling as he beat her in an arcing motion,” Cho explained, demonstrating by swinging his arms into the bed and back over his head.

       “Do you have a suspect?” Cho asked.

       “Well, the husband is recuperating in the hospital from a gunshot wound,” Danny replied.

       “Who shot him if you think he killed his wife?”

       “That’s just it. I can’t prove he did it. He claims an intruder shot him, then beat his wife. We found a golf driver that might be the murder weapon, but as yet, there has been no gun found,” Danny explained.

       “I’d like to see what evidence you’ve collected from the crime scene,” Cho requested.

       Back at the station, Danny escorted Cho to the evidence room. All of the evidence was laid out on a long table. The blood soaked bedding, the victim’s night gown, photographs taken at the scene, and the husband’s dark red silk pajamas.

       “Get me an ultra-violet light,” Cho directed. When it arrived from down the hall where the field technicians keep their equipment, the lights were turned out in the room and the criminologist went over all of the clothing. He paid particular attention to Doctor Dobbins’ pajamas.

       “See this?” Cho said, pointing out faint blood spatters on the shoulder and back of the pajama tops. “This is proof the husband is the killer.”

       “Damn. How’d we miss that?”

       “Don’t worry. If you hadn’t of been suspecting the husband in the first place, no one would ever think to examine his clothing,” Cho said. “There was a case some years ago back in the Midwest under similar circumstances. I remembered it when I saw the line of blood spatters going up the wall.

       “As the suspect beat the victim, his swings with the murder weapon collected blood on it and it was flung off onto the pajama top, wall and ceiling in an arc. It matches exactly the motion the suspect must have used in beating the victim.”

       Danny had his evidence, now all he had to do was get the good doctor to confess his crime so as to save a long, drawn out trial. With only blood spatters on the pajama tops as evidence, a good defense lawyer could say it was caused when the doctor was attacked by the intruder. No, without the doctor’s confession, it still was a shaky case.

       Danny thanked Professor Cho for his help.

       “Is there anything else I can do for you, detective?”

       “Yeah, I got a couple of sniper murders to solve, but I’m nowhere near having you look at them at this time. In fact, I may never be where I need to in order to figure out who the shooter might be.”

       “Good luck to you,” Cho said has he left the squad room.

       It was Friday evening. Danny told Stein he’d buy the beer. It was time for a kick-back, but he knew the only topic of conversation would be the cases they were trying to solve, particularly the Dobbins murder.

       “Even if we can prove the old man did it, we’re gonna have a tough time convincing the DA to take it forward,” Danny sighed.

       “Yeah and the forensics techs got to the scene after the doc was taken to the hospital,” said Stein. “The uniform on the scene didn’t think to bag his hands for powder residue.”

       Stein added, “According to a neighbor, Mrs. Dobbins’ brother was in North Africa during the big one. Supposedly, an Italian major surrendered his Baretta pistol to him and he brought it home.”

       “Could that be the reason we never found any record of gun ownership?” Danny asked.

       “Could very well be,” Stein said, shaking his head in agreement.

       “We need to go talk with the doc again,” Danny said.