When it comes to making a mountain out of a mole hill, those accusing President Obama of overreach by officially restoring an Alaskan native name to North America's highest peak could take a tip from West Virginia.
In 1949, the advertising company representing Borden Milk, which hosted a popular radio show at the time, learned that a town named Mole Hill could be found in north central West Virginia. The staff at Borden's Madison Avenue agency came up with the publicity stunt of changing the name of the burg to Mountain during a ceremony that would be broadcast live from the Ritchie County metropolis, thus making a Mountain out of a Mole Hill.
Several movers and shakers in the rural community signed on to the name change, or at least the temporary fame and excitement it would bring, as did a host of state political leaders. The town, which started out as Federal Hill, had already gone through one name change, and its residents apparently thought another wouldn't hurt all that much, especially since Mountain sounds a bit more majestic than either of its first two names.
The name change went through, thanks in no small part to the support, or at least ambivalence, of the townspeople and their elected officials.
In Alaska, support for restoring the native name of Denali to the peak officially known as Mount McKinley is powerful and includes its entire, three-person, all-Republican congressional delegation, along with Independent Gov. Bill Walker, who formerly ran as a Republican. Alaska's native population, which has called the mountain Denali, or "the great one," for generations, sees the name change as a cultural slight -- another example of an American Indian name with historical roots being discarded for a European American name with no connection to the site.
Leading the attack on Obama's McKinley-Denali name switch are the Republican members of the congressional delegation representing Ohio, President William McKinley's home state, Rep. Bob Gibbs called the name change "constitutional overreach" and a "political stunt insulting to all Ohioans." House Speaker John Boehner said he was "deeply disappointed" in the name change, since the peak's former handle was "a testament to (McKinley's) great legacy." Sen. Rob Portman said the name change "is yet another example of the president going around Congress," and described McKinley as "a proud Ohioan, and the mountain was named after him as a way to remember his rich legacy after his assassination."
In reality, the mountain was named McKinley before the noted Ohioan was elected president, let alone assassinated.
William A. Dickey, a Princeton grad and a wealthy Seattle merchant, was exploring the interior of Alaska in 1896 when he and his party reached the village of Talkeetna and gazed upon the lofty peak. "We named our great peak Mount McKinley after William McKinley of Ohio who had been nominated for the presidency, and that fact was the first news we received on our way out of that wonderful wilderness," Dickey wrote.
Dickey and his party weren't even the first white people to gaze upon the mountain. English explorer George Vancouver reported seeing Denali in his journal in 1794. Other white Americans had spotted the peak during the 25 years of exploration and prospecting preceding Dickey's trip to Alaska's interior. Congress didn't get around to officially naming the peak Mount McKinley until 1917.
Perhaps a better choice for naming a peak after McKinley can be found here in Charleston, where McKinley, an enlisted man who was promoted to lieutenant for bravery under fire at Antietam, spent much of 1863 under the command of another future Ohio-born president, Rutherford Hayes.
McKinley and Hayes were both stationed at Fort Scammon atop Charleston's Fort Hill. When not on duty, they were known to go horseback riding along Davis Creek Road and boating on the Kanawha River.
Why not rename Fort Hill after a Civil War hero and president who spent time here and seemed to enjoy it?
Since Fort Hill remains fairly flat on top, thanks to Fort Scammon, may I suggest McKinley Mesa?