Hue and Cry

By history and reputation Rhode Island should display and revere certain colors: Black, brown, gold, gray, green, red and silver.

Blackstone River flowed firsts and startups for which state is still famous. Black bears are spotted occasionally on outskirts. Not even getting into 1st RI Regiment of Revolutionary War Blacks, first state to abolish slavery, nor the triangle trade of Africans and blackstrap molasses upon which state was founded. Black always represented primordial ooze, current color of Mosshasuck, Pawtuxet, and Woonsasquatucket Rivers, the ink of polluted tattoos that trace livelihoods through local veins.

Brown University is indubitably Ivy League down to its green twining vines, but James, John, Joseph, Moses and Nicholas all made indelible marks on district culture. You could once list Brown & Sharpe among nation's biggest manufacturers; its former brown brick edifice glowers across I-95 from local blush limestone statehouse. Besides, much of state's industrial past left a legacy of EPA brownfields, while agricultural remnants are literally fields of brown muck for much of the year. Lush verdancy only describes the scores of faux and toxic golf courses. Brown recluse spiders and brown snakes might require a visit to Jane Brown Hospital. Mercy L. Brown will always be the favorite reputed resident vampire. Archives indicate 5,487,000 records of Browns in Rhode Island alone. Nationwide, it's the 4th most common name; of the other top 100 surnames, only Gray and White are also colors.

Tolkien twisted an old adage, "All that is gold does not glitter. Not all who wander are lost." Yet Rhody’s Independent Man has been gilt and stands rigid atop capitol dome. Indeed, from Durfee Hill to Foster Center they find and mine deposits in pyrite and quartz. Costume adornments sparkle of phony glitter, though limited fine jewelry is also made. More businesses here deal in than fabricate from precious metals, though aluminum, copper and steel scrap are mostly collected. Bathed in brackish fog, bundles and heaps of riparian iron noticeably oxidize into shades of black and brown. Despite empty hotel rooms and hospitality investments, rust never sleeps here. Out-of-state workers do; 15% of residents work in CT and MA, since state’s alleged Economic Development made so few opportunities unemployment resembles levels of The Great Depression.

Greene Homestead Spell Hall is on National Register of Historic Sites, one of many colonial houses across state.

A section of SW Coventry is named for Revolutionary War General Nathanael Greene. Although born in Potowomut, he's more associated with Savannah, Georgia. Second in Command to Commander-in-Chief George Washington, Greene enlisted as a private and rapidly rose through ranks on his avid bookishness, innate wit, and savage aggression. Hero of the Southern Campaign, Greene practiced tactics that secured an American victory, though you hardly ever hear his name mentioned other than as one of many localities that bear his misspelt and nondescript surname. Rather, denizens raised verdigris bronzes of Burnside, President Lincoln’s most inept Civil War general, and several other notables to celebrate immigrant nationalities. Local airport PVD was later named after native son and US Senator Theodore Francis Green.

Rhode Island Reds were not only a hockey team, it’s also the name of state’s official bird, an embarrassing breed of chicken that lays brown eggs. Though many localities for some odd reason fondly recall British fiefdoms, colonists settled for hundreds of names given by indigenous red race: Apponaug (where you roast oysters), Aquidneck (on an island), Ashaway, Connimicut, Cowesett (pine place), Kickamuit, Louisquisset (meeting place), Meshanticut (many tall trees), Narragansett (narrow river), Niantic, Occupessuatuxet (whence Hoxie), Pascoag (river divide), Pawcatuck (open stream), Pawtucket (water falls), Pawtuxet (little falls), Quonset (long place), Sakonnet (rocky outlet), Shannock (salmon fishing), Usquepaug (end of pond), Wampanoag, Weekapaug (head of pond), Weybosset, Woonasquatucket, Woonsocket (steep descent), Yawgoog (fire pond). Despite suburban myth, rhododendrons (means "rose tree") are neither named for Little Rhody nor native to New England, but they do reliably bring shades from magenta to rose every spring, since they thrive in acid soil, as did asters, goldenrod, Joe-Pye weed, violets, witch hazel, and worthy precolonial flora. Cumberlandite, state's official rock, contains reddish iron ore. Plentiful swamp maples turn vivid red each autumn.

Famous smithies have become scarce, so silver has no cache anymore. State's flag features an anchor, blue banner of hope, and gold stars on a white field with yellow fringe that hark back to Cromwell and King Charles II, nothing for which state now stands. Anchorages are few; navy is gone; quahogs were ignored. If you wave a pristine flag through state's polluted air or water, it will stain as slate gray as surrounding ocean. So little sun shines here, solar power isn't as viable as in Arizona and Vitamin D deficiency is pandemic. Folks look forward to snow because it brightens outlook. You'd think photovoltaic panels could repurpose fanged farmland that no longer produces. White supposedly stands for purity, not besmirched corruption or tarnished complexity, as inappropriate as a whore in a bridal gown. Blue is for sky, unseen most of the time. “Blue sky” connote corporations that pay big dividends, not something you're ever likely to see here. But “the blues” do describe depression and seasonal affective disorder, so that might fit a bit. Yellow is a curious color, craven yet driven, so one to approve.

State's flag ought to be a brown and gray herringbone field with black veins and green or red edges trimmed in gold leaf, and yellow lettering, thereby admixing artificial with natural. Any rainbow expectations have always been crushed by old time elite, who still cling to privileges bestowed by monarchs. Yeah, things were simpler then; one died or lived upon an inbred idiot’s whims, never had to compete among thousands of other candidates, set up shops to exploit and tax impudently. Unless enough residents take up the “hue and cry” against, all are judged just as much to blame as in old English law.