We have Daniel Boone’s ADHD to thank for the western two-thirds of the United States. June 7 is a day that lives in glorious Disney colors or one that lives in infamy, depending on whether you were not or were a Native American.
On June 7, 1769, Daniel Boone crested a summit in the Appalachians and looked down upon the present-day Kentucky.
Not a breeze shook the most tremulous leaf. I had gained the summit of a commanding ridge, and, looking round with astonishing delight, beheld the ample plains, the beauteous tracts below.
Because of these words, how many raccoon-tail hats have been sold in the continental United States alone?
How many people were uprooted and massacred? How many people left home and family to search for beaver pelts, gold, uranium, the silver screen? How many people tried their hand at homesteading, ranching, cowboying, mining, teaching, farming, oil rigging, acting, tricking, gambling, computing, green jobbing…?
Being asked “why he had left that dear Kentucke, which he had discovered and won from the wild Indian, for the wilderness of Missouri,” [Boone’s] memorable reply betrays the leading feature of his character, the primum mobile of the man: “Too crowded! too crowded! I want elbow-room!”