The intersection of history and environmental geography is only one of many laudable qualities of Scott Reynolds Nelson's work, Steel Drivin' Man, John Henry: The Untold Story of an American Legend. In his narrative, geoforms have agency (to use a word that likely doesn't appear in Nelson's highly readable narrative), and to those who look closely, the history of our move to dominate natural surroundings is written on every landscape.
But this is one of Nelson's anecdotes that had me laughing out loud from the end of a long line of automobiles waiting for emission inspections. Nelson was speeding toward West Virginia on his historical quest when he noticed a state trooper lying in wait. Pulling over on demand, Nelson tells the story:
When he walked over to my window I quickly blurted out, "I'm glad you stopped. I thought I was in Millboro, but I can't find it from the signs." He looked puzzled. "Millboro is just an old town with three or four families. Why would you want to go there, sir? I told him that I was a historian following the construction of the Chesapeake & Ohio Railroad and that convicts owned by the railroad had escaped from there in 1870. "Let me see your map," he said pointing to the photocopy on the dashboard. When I confessed that my map was drawn in 1872, he smirked and shook his head.
Nelson got away with a warning rather than a ticket.
