To Spell Check or Not To Spell Check
by
Ken Bushnell
As the pace of the information age heats up there is
a low level debate going on as to whether or not we
should invest time spell checking and generally proofing
our material before we show it to others. The two
factions have viable arguments. On the one hand, we
invest time developing ideas, projects, programs, and
what have you, with the feeling it's important to get the
information out quickly rather than polish it and dote
over it. On the other hand we have the purists, who may
be right in that anything worth reading has been fully
prepared and well crafted by its creators. Even though
the non purists are fond of using the modifier
`retentive' to describe the purist's intentions, a
glaring example was set forth almost two hundred years
ago when Lewis and Clark returned from their expedition
of discovery looking for the northwest passage. History
has recorded Clark, who was responsible for keeping the
log books, to be a `notoriously' bad speller. Actually
the events that occurred may be familiar to all of us and
might have gone something like this:
Meriwether Lewis, William Clark and the Corps of
Discovery are in St. Louis making last minute
preparations for their trip before starting up the
Missouri River. They're inspecting the keelboats, or at
least Lewis is. Clark is tying a fly (fishing). Lewis
reaches into a duffel bag. "What's this?" He inquires of
Clark holding up a heavy looking book.
"A dictionary," Clark responds.
Lewis is adamant. "I thought we agreed we wouldn't bring
anything extra."
"That's right." Clark was a bit of an antagonist.
"Well then, what's," he lifts it up and down a couple of
times estimating the weight, "a four pound book doing in
this duffel bag?"
"I couldn't find a three pounder?" Clark turns away as he
says it, adding a note of sarcasm.
"I realize I asked you to be my co-captain on this
venture, but you know the President appointed me, so I
have to remind you of my orders: no extras, only the
essentials." Lewis starts to throw the dictionary in the
water.
"Wait a minute." Clark stands up and grabs it. They're
both holding onto it. "That's a two dollar book." Lewis
relinquishes his grasp.
"Two dollars. Two dollars. Lewis starts to turn red. "You
spent two dollars on a book just before you were going on
a journey, and a dangerous one at that."
"I didn't buy it. You did. Or I mean the Corps did. I put
it on the expense account."
Lewis is now ready to explode. Fuming mad he advances and
grabs the book from Clark's hand. "You, you..." He could
barely get the words out. "You are going to return this."
"Why?" Clark, always the cool headed one, was egging him
on.
"Look Will. Up to now we've been pretty good friends. But
I get the feeling you've been dogging me all the way.
First there was that fiasco with the folding boat. [Lewis
had invented a folding canoe giving instructions to have
it manufactured under Clark's guidance] I told you what I
wanted, but no, you had to get in there with the black
smith and make a few changes. Did I care? Did I complain?
No! But we got our boat, and only two months late because
of your `expertise'." He added as much mockery as he
could to the last word. "And what about the beads? I told
you blue beads. [the Indians preferred trading blue beads
because they had no natural dye for that color. ] Lots of
them. But did you listen. No, you got a good deal on red.
Okay, okay, but if you keep giving me trouble, friendship
or no friendship, I'm going to have to exercise my
authority. Is that clear?"
"Authority. What authority?" Clark was getting wound up.
"Ever since we started this mission you've been acting
like you're King George, or something. You give me a
list, and not a very good list, to go to Hubbell and get
supplies. It says beads, I got you some beads. It didn't
say anything about blue beads."
"Okay. So I didn't write it down. Do I have to write
everything down? I told you blue beads because that's
what Jefferson said the natives would like. Do you
remember?" Lewis was trying to mend the rift.
Clark knew the tone. "Yea. I guess. Blue beads, sure. But
I forgot, in the heat of moment, and there was a good
deal on red beads, from China. I just thought, what the
heck; Red, blue, white, what's the difference?"
"It doesn't matter now, but this dictionary, I'm going to
send it back and you can have it when we get there."
"No way. No way Meri. We need that book. You don't want
us to look like idiots who can't spell do you? Your
name's going to be on this thing too. Jefferson asked you
to keep a record of everything. I can draw maps so you
put me in charge of the log books and I want to take this
dictionary. You don't think I'm going to ask you
everytime I think something's spelled wrong, do you? What
about Colter? [A fellow discoverer] Do you think he can
spell? I don't even know if he can read? Look. I don't
know about you, but I have to look things up. I'm not
much of a reader. Besides you know I never went to any of
those fancy schools."
"York's a pretty good speller, isn't he?" Lewis was
trying another tact.
"My man servant? [Clark was talking about a family slave,
who he'd grown up with and now was joining him on the
expedition.] Oh, yea sure. But I try not to let him know
he's better than me, that way. I got to keep discipline
and all, you know."
"Look Will. How's this? You don't want to portage this
thing around the next set of falls we encounter, or carry
it up some big mountain do you? That's when you're going
to be glad that we aren't carrying extra weight. So how
about if I send it back with Hopkins and when we get back
you can go over the journals and check the spelling then,
in the comfort of your own home?"
"Well, I guess. That makes sense. But I thought we were
going to hire natives to help us carry stuff around the
falls." Clark was hesitant.
"I'll help you check the spelling when we get back."
Lewis threw in the deal maker.
"Okay. You're right. We can do this thing together."
Clark gets up, puts his arm around Lewis, pulls him in
for a hug and grinds a knuckle into his ribs, kiddingly.
"Pals?"
"Oh all right, Pals," Lewis responds.
Clark reaches into the same duffel bag and pulls out
another book. "Here! It was a two volume set."
All's well that ends well except we know the road to bean
town is paved with good intentions. When Clark got back,
Jefferson, who was maybe the most prolific reader of his
time, was anxious to read about the journey, so he asked
for the journals directly. He wanted to read every word.
We can only imagine what happened when Clark reported to
the President. "Here are the journals," Clark enters the
presidents office. He is hurried because he's a little
late and is juggling a stack of books or in this case
journals.
"Marvelous. Marvelous. Did you have a nice trip?"
Jefferson waited for his response. "Just kidding. Just
kidding. Captain Lewis sent message back from Wood River
when you guys landed."
"Yes sir. I just wanted to point out we lost some of the
journals coming down the Missouri. Also I haven't had a
chance to go over them and check the spelling and all. It
was no party, you know, trying to write things down in
the mud, rain, with mosquitos, wild animals, and Indians
attacking. There were times when I was lucky to get
anything down on paper at all."
"I understand." Jefferson starts paging through the
journals. "I thought you were going to tell me the dog
ate them." Again the President waits for his response.
"As soon as I can I will try to reconstruct the ones we
lost."
"Yes, yes. That'll be good. And don't forget the speech
you and Meriwether are going to give next week when the
House gets together. Oh, and that Indian affairs
position, I need an answer by next week as well."
Jefferson keeps heaping the work on. "You don't mind if I
have my scribe make copies of some of these passages do
you? There are some people I'd like to show them to."
"No, no. Copies? Please." Clark is thinking about
something else. "Oh the speech. I forgot about the
speech. Thanks for reminding me. I better start writing
it. I've also got to take care of some things for the
farm. Can you give me a couple of more days on that
appointment? I don't know where I'm going to find the
time."
And so we leave Clark trying to find time as his schedule
gets busier and busier with his knew found celebrity. He
never did get the time to correct his original journals.
History books later went on to recall Clark to be a
`notoriously' bad speller. The question is: would you
rather have had a perfectly manicured document or a
detailed record of one of the greatest sagas of the
American West? We now have unique insight. In this modern
information age we know you can get too busy. So why
bother to spell check? History is just going to repeat
itself.
