Remembering Gordon Wood

When a history-loving Marine hung out with a Pulitzer winning historian.

Inspiration

Though writing is a solitary pursuit, I find inspiration from friends and family, coaches and teammates, writers and warriors. Most I’ve known, some I haven’t, and a few I’ve met momentarily along the way. One of those brief visitors into my life was the great American scholar who died earlier this week at age 92. His name was Gordon Wood. He was a Pulitzer winning historian, and nineteen years ago he gave a wayward Marine (me) two hours of his time while expecting nothing in return.

As I’m sure it is with you, brief interactions with influential people whose work we admire can inspire us to chase our dreams. Gordon Wood remains one of those people for me.

Bahrain

During my final six months in the Marine Corps, I lived in Bahrain, an island kingdom in the Persian Gulf. Connected to Saudi Arabia by a fifteen-mile causeway, Bahrain is widely known in military circles as a place where “good Saudis” go to spend a weekend being “bad Saudis.”

In plenty of Bahrain’s bars (alcohol is illegal in Saudi Arabia), I’d see Saudi men dressed in their white ankle length robes holding prayer beads in one hand and an ice-cold Heineken in the other. But unlike these fun-loving dudes and many others frequenting the Irish pubs of Bahrain, my weekend nights during that final deployment were spent with coffee rather than beer, and books rather than expats and the flight attendants who love them.

Before you think I’m lame, consider this: First, I was engaged to be married. Second, I would soon be unemployed. Third, I had some reading to do! And in a few months I’d be pursuing a master’s degree in Early American History.

With caffeinated eyes and a quiver of highlighters and pens at the ready, each night I tore into books about the American Revolution and the decades of political and social change that followed. Zipping through the historiography, I soon came upon Gordon Wood’s famous work, The Creation of the American Republic. About fifty pages in, I knew this book was special.

Suddenly my zip turned to a crawl. Highlighting passages, tabbing pages, and writing in and out of the margins, I consumed Wood’s masterpiece like no book before. Like a song that touches your heart, his book hit me deep.  Within its 600-plus pages, Wood wrote about the Founders’ ancient influences—men like Tacitus, Plutarch, and Polybius. He described how Saxon law influenced Jefferson and Blackstone’s Commentaries inspired Madison. He dove head-first into the Enlightenment, awakening me to the ideas of Locke, Hume, and Montesquieu. It was a celebration of two-thousand years of Western thought—all coming to a head in late eighteenth century America.  

Opening that bountiful book was like unlocking a stocked refrigerator after a fast. Each night I gorged myself on the tasty ideas Professor Wood fed me. As I read about the radicalism our Revolution incited and the conservative backlash that ensured its success, I became mesmerized by the words, movements, and beliefs swirling from Wood’s book.

I learned about “democratic despotism” and the “licentious state legislatures” threatening American liberty in the 1780s and how the US Constitution rescued our liberties from anarchy. Wood also taught me that America offered two truly unique contributions to world history: federalism and popular sovereignty.   

As I slowly and methodically made my way through The Creation of the American Republic, I felt like I had climbed into the book. I didn’t just read about what happened, I felt it, grasped it, and began to forge my own ideas about our nation’s founding—that great men are fueled by passion and practice restraint. Thanks to Gordon Wood, I began to realize how Adams, Hamilton, and Madison thread the political needle—protecting our freedoms from the whims of the people and the controls of government.

Before leaving Bahrain and the Marine Corps, I decided to write Mr. Wood, thanking him for such a brilliant book. Finding his email address on the Brown University website, where he’d taught history since 1983, I said I was a Marine Captain about to leave the service and pursue my MA in History. I added that I’d be passing through Providence in a month and would love to stop by his office to meet him. I’ll never forget seeing his email the next day: “Sure Captain. Come on by and I’d be happy to talk with you. Best, Gordon Wood.”  

History is the Coolest

One of the coolest things about being a history nerd is the accessibility and availability of your writing heroes. I’ve exchanged DMs, emails, and/or meals with Tom Holland, Tom Ricks, Colin Woodard, Steven Pressfield, Gordon Wood, and many more. Unlike the idols of pop culture, spectator sports, and scrolling politics, writers of history aren’t worshipped; instead, they’re revered by a core group of well-informed readers who share their passion for the past.

Here’s another reason history is the coolest: You need vigor to write it, wonder to read it, and fellowship to discuss it. And lucky me because I felt that fellowship with the one and only Gordon Wood.

Brown University

After parking my black corvette on the Brown campus. I walked towards your classic nineteenth-century New England college building with sturdy gray stones, decorate ledges, and a stuffy staircase inside. As I climbed that staircase to the fourth and final floor, I noticed how the building tapered at the top.

As my footsteps echoed across the hardwood floor, I entered what felt like a high-ceiling attic. There was no security, no secretary, no access badges, and the spring semester had just ended. I don’t think I saw a single person in the entire building. It was empty except for Gordon and me.

Knocking on his door at the end of the hall, I thought, this is my door to the past, my portal to Revolutionary America.  

“Come in,” I heard.   

Stepping into a sprawling office right out of a Norman Rockwell painting. I saw volumes of books on shelves, papers scattered across his desk and rectangular center table, and a few historical portraits on the wall. I had entered the mind of Gordon Wood.

I soon approached the vehicle of that mind. With shaggy gray hair, large reading glasses, and a tattered jacket on the back of his chair, he rose to his feet and knew it was me. “Welcome, Ed!”

After shaking hands, he showed me around the office and even hoisted a 1500-page manuscript from his desk. It was his upcoming book, Empire of Liberty. Naively, I asked, “Your book is going to be 1500 pages?!” He laughed and said, “No. The publisher might let me keep half of that.”

Settling into leather chairs, we talked about history for nearly two hours. We discussed the pros and cons of pursuing a PHD, the incessant whining of his academic colleagues, and his belief that George Washington felt he was chosen by God to lead the Continental Army and our infant nation.

As we discussed Washington—whose greatness, like the US Constitution, lies in his restraint—I’d never felt closer to the father of our country.  As Gordon described Washington, it felt like I was speaking with someone who had met the man. It was a magical moment where the past had come alive. I was talking to a primary source.   

After thanking Gordon and saying goodbye, I walked to my car and sat inside it for a while. I was shaking with wonder and exhilaration. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. For the next two years, all I'd do is read about, write about, and speak about history.

Looking towards that sturdy stone building, I saw a 73-year-old Gordon Wood race out the front door in his elbow-patched jacket while jostling papers into his bag. He walked at a double-time. He had somewhere to go.  

He’s going to be late because he made time for me, I thought with gratitude.

I would never see him again. Now that he’s gone, I never will. Yet, Gordon Wood lives on in my heart and head. Every time I crack open one of his books I feel like I’m up in his attic office--except now and for the rest of my life I have more than just two hours of his time.

Born to Write

One final note. During our talk, I asked Gordon what made a great writer. He said, “I truly believe you’re either born a writer or you’re not.” I nodded along thankful he had not read anything I had written.

As I drove off campus towards Boston, I thought more about Gordon’s comment. He’d been a professor for forty years and likely read a lot of bad writing from his students. I thought of when I was a bad student at the Naval Academy. I recall when a professor wrote in red ink (and I swear this is true), “It took me over an hour to read this piece of crap.” I also thought about a Commanding Officer who once mocked my writing in front of other officers.

But then I thought about a professor in grad school encouraging me to pursue a PHD. Then another professor announcing to the entire class that I got the only 100% score on an assigned essay. Years later, the Washington Post published something I wrote. A few years later, I started this blog with the goal of writing a book.

Though Gordon Wood is probably right that great writers are born, I proved to myself that anyone with a passion for their subject can write a book. So with the love, support, and encouragement from so many of you, that’s exactly what I did.