(Note: This post was written in 2022 but was not posted until 2025.)
I don’t want to oversell this recap of our sprawling
trip across much of the eastern U.S. by suggesting there were biblical connections…but
I will point out that the trip lasted 40 days and (almost) 40 nights. Just
saying.
While there were no ascents of Mt. Sinai, and we
received no commandments from God, I did get plenty of directional guidance
from my co-pilots (both apps and human) as we drove 6,803 miles, across 23
states while attending eight baseball games, a wedding and a baby shower, while
visiting a dozen or so friends and family, and 37 national parks!
Moses would likely agree, we squeezed a lot into our 40
days.
I never tire of getting out to see this great country.
But, as we all know, America is troubled; angry, divided, and on edge. And we
experienced some of that firsthand.
The Buffalo shooting took place while we were
attending our future grandson’s baby shower in Chicago. We were enjoying Acadia
National Park in Maine when the Uvalde shooting happened about 85 miles from
our house back in Texas, in a quiet town we’ve visited many times over the
years. A few days before we got back to San Antonio, the Jan. 6 panel began
unspooling its compelling evidence of the Big Lie. And when we got home, we
found an antisemitic flyer that had been left on the ground outside the house
while we were gone; a first for our neighborhood (to my knowledge) but
something that has occurred periodically in San Antonio neighborhoods in recent
years.
Suffice to say, some of America’s troubles, angers and
divisions were hitting pretty close to home.
Yet, as the days passed and the miles rolled by, there
were also glimmers of hope that maybe things aren’t as bad as they may
sometimes appear.
When the news about the Buffalo shootings at the Tops
supermarket broke my first thought was to change our plans and avoid Buffalo.
But we had a few days to think about it and decided to proceed as planned with
a visit to a national park site, followed by a Buffalo Bisons AAA baseball
game.
The national park we visited is an historic site where
Teddy Roosevelt was sworn in as president after the assassination of William
McKinley. After our stop there, we checked into a downtown hotel on a cool,
rainy afternoon. Buffalo was calm and quiet, with very few people on the
streets.
We grabbed our rain gear, layered up and took a clean,
modern trolley about a mile to the baseball stadium where we learned that the
game had been cancelled. We were surprised by this because it was just a light
drizzle, and if there is anywhere in the country accustomed to playing sporting
events in foul weather it’s Buffalo, right? Apparently not.
So, we recalibrated and made our way to a restaurant, sat
at the bar, and ordered a beer. I asked the guy next to me what he was eating
and that set off an interesting and enlightening supper-long conversation with
our friendly neighbor.
He was a Brooklyn-based cameraman for CBS news, a
first-generation son of Haitian immigrants in town for the coverage of the
shootings. A few weeks earlier he had been at the Poland-Ukraine border,
covering the Russian war.
We engaged with him in an interesting and informative
conversation. He encouraged us, enabled us you might say, to stop by the Tops
Market and pay respects at one of the makeshift memorials. We took his advice
and stopped by the next day on our way out of town.
It was a cool, overcast, damp morning with a light
drizzle. We had both written notes, which we added to the thousands of flowers,
candles, other notes, and various mementos that had piled up in a makeshift
memorial on a street corner at the edge of the large area around the store that
was cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape.
Other than police officers, the only person we saw on
the streets was a 30ish Black guy who had come to the memorial to do the same
thing we were doing. The three of us stared at the store. Betsy asked the guy
for a hug, which he obliged, and he and I hugged too. It was a sad and
sobering, but also oddly uplifting, experience.
I spent a lot of time on this trip contemplating
America and our many problems, while simultaneously noting its many virtues;
toggling between a foreboding sense that the country is spiraling into decline
and possible dissolution, and Pollyanna observations that things aren’t as bad
as they seem.
This debate with myself was informed by many of our
stops at national park sites.
For example, the day before our visit to the memorial
at the Tops Market we had visited the Theodore Roosevelt Inaugural National
Historic Site. Roosevelt’s “inauguration” took place in Buffalo because McKinley
died there after he was shot on the grounds of the Pan-American Exposition in 1901.
There are substantive parallels between McKinley’s assassination
and the murders at the Tops Market 122 years later.
Payton Gendron, the Tops Market murderer, was drawn
into racist hate groups on the internet and believed in the “replacement theory”
that has gained traction with far right-wing groups and been at the core of several
violent protests in recent years. The guy that killed McKinley, Leon Czolgosz, was drawn into the fringe political
philosophy of anarchism that got a foothold in the U.S. on the far-left wing of
the workers rights movements in the late 19th and early 20th
centuries. During this time adherents of anarchism also attempted assassinations
in Europe and instigated violent protests in the U.S.
It seems logical that Americans in 1901, in the wake
of McKinley’s assassination, might have had many of the same feelings of
confusion and anger, and a palpable sense that the country is unraveling, that
many of us have today in the wake of the shootings in Buffalo and Uvalde (and
so many other places across the country).
Two days after leaving Buffalo we visited the Women's
Rights National Historical Park in Seneca Falls, New York, which tells the
story of the first Women’s Rights Convention held there in 1848. When you go to a place like that, it reminds
you not only how far we’ve come, but also how excruciatingly difficult it has
been to get here; and how far we still need to go to achieve something as
seemingly simple as equal rights and the unfettered right to vote, and to have
that vote honestly applied and portrayed.
The next day at Saratoga National Historical Park on
the Hudson River north of Albany we were reminded of our country’s fragile
beginnings. When independence was declared in 1776, the odds were long that the
upstart colonists could defeat the armies and navies of Great Britain, the
world’s unquestioned superpower. Yet it happened, and the Americans’ decisive
victory in the battle at Saratoga in 1777, which included the first-ever
surrender by a British army, played a major role in what ultimately turned out
to be the USA’s successful war for independence.
Speaking of American fragility, if you are intent on
visiting national parks, and you are traveling in the eastern U.S., it is
impossible to avoid thinking about the Civil War. Of the 37 national park sites
we visited on the trip, nine were directly related to the Civil War, most of
them battlefields. In addition, we attended a wedding at the cottage in
Washington D.C. where President Lincoln wrote the Emancipation Proclamation,
and we visited Natchez National Historical Park in Mississippi that focuses, in
part, on the antebellum slave trade. We also stopped at three national parks
that focus on the Civil Rights Movement; the Freedom Riders National Monument
in Anniston, Alabama; the Birmingham Civil Rights National Monument (including
a tour of the 16th Street Baptist Church where the four girls were
killed in a 1963 bombing); and the Medgar and Myrlie Evers Home National
Monument in Jackson, Mississippi.
Collectively, what comes through clearly to me when
visiting the Civil-War-related sites is how perilously close we came to
allowing (at least) 11 states to secede and form a separate country, the
Confederate States of America.
Personally, I don’t think historians have done enough
to help us imagine the impact that acquiescence to the formation of the CSA would
have had on our country and its future; and the devastating impact that it would
have had on each of us today.
By 1865 it was basically a coin flip as to whether our
war-weary union of states would survive intact. Unfortunately, it’s hard not to
draw parallels with that 19th Century Civil War and the insurrection
that is currently underway, in a very different type of civil war. And to
wonder about our chances of surviving these modern-day threats.
There’s a lot that’s wrong in America right now,
that’s for sure. But when you get out there and start poking around this big,
sprawling country you discover that there is still a heck of a lot about
America that looks and feels right. And you’re reminded that we’ve been through
a lot over the years and survived, offering at least a slender reed of hope
that maybe we can do it again.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Here’s a statistical summary of the 40-day trip that
we’re calling The Big East Circle Tour, followed by Betsy’s day-by-day journal
notes (with supplementary comments from Dave).
|
Trip Summary by the Numbers
|
|
Total Miles Driven
|
6,803
|
|
Days on the Road
|
40
|
|
States Traversed
|
23
|
|
Gallons of Gasoline Consumed
|
322.6
|
|
Most Expensive Gallon of Regular Unleaded
|
$4.93
|
|
Total Cost for Gasoline on the Trip
|
$1,422.99
|
|
Average Cost per Gallon
|
$4.41
|
|
Most Expensive Refill
|
$108.90
|
|
Total Cost for Tolls
|
$103.10
|
|
Nights Spent in Hotel/Motel/AirBnB
|
32
|
|
Percent of those nights @ Holiday Inn Express
|
53%
|
|
Total Cost for Lodging on the Trip
|
$5,710.45
|
|
Average Cost for Lodging, per night
|
$178.45
|
|
Cracker Barrel Meals (all takeout)
|
8
|
|
Nights Lodged With Friends & Family
|
7
|
|
National Parks Visited on the Trip
|
37
|
|
Dave's New NPS Total
|
327
|
|
Betsy's New NPS Total
|
306
|
|
State Highpoints Ascended on the Trip
|
1
|
|
Betsy's New Highpoint Total
|
20
|
|
Baseball Games Attended on the Trip (MLB-2, AAA-4, AA-1,
Draft League-1)
|
8
|
|
New MLB Ballparks Visited on the Trip
|
1
|
|
Betsy's New MLB Ballpark Total
|
46
|
|
Dave's New MLB Ballpark Total
|
47
|
Day 1 - Paris, Texas.
Got tour of recent Fannin County Courthouse renovation in Bonham from County
Auditor and project manager Alicia Whipple. Dave went up scary upright ladder
to the top of the cupola. Since the original was demolished, it had been
re-created by a company out of state who manufactured it and delivered it in
three pieces. But it took the construction crew took six hours to get it
fastened and installed - tense moments for the project team, according to
Alicia. Dave was up there when the bells tolled and took a video. Overall, a
wonderful story about taking down a modern façade to re-reveal the historic
structure, although I still can’t believe she let Dave go up that ladder! We
capped our first day off at the 107 restaurant in downtown Paris, with craft
beer and a fried okra taco.
Dave’s Comments: Day
1 and I’m already supplementing! But I must because, wow, the trip got off to a
fabulous start. I’d read about the courthouse renovation on the Texas
Historical Commission website and reached out to Ms. Whipple via Facebook
(something I had never done before, and not realizing she was the County
Auditor) and wowzah, did it pay off. We have received impromptu courthouse
tours over the years from a variety of county officials, including chief
administrators, district judges, precinct commissioners and clerks; but never
anything quite like this. We literally went into every room in the building,
from the basement to the top of the clock tower.
Day 2 - Forrest City, Arkansas. On
the way out of town, we swung by the Texas Eiffel Tower (a miniature replica of
the French monument, instead with a cowboy hat on top). Adjacent to the odd
structure was an illuminating over-the-top veteran’s memorial that highlighted
EVERY conflict in which Texans had participated. The panels were very
informative, but the plaques embossed into the sidewalk included one with a
Confederate flag – an image we would see many times throughout our travels. Earlier
we visited the Texas Historical Commission’s Sam Bell Maxey House, and were led
on a tour by a female Army veteran originally from Minnesota. That evening we
made our first of many future stops to pick up dinner at a Cracker Barrel. I
tried to use the CB phone app but it was lacking.
Dave’s Comments:
A formatting note. The comment headers might be a little misleading because
they refer only to the places where we slept. In this case, we spent the
morning and early afternoon poking around Paris, Texas, and most of the rest of
the day driving. We stopped in Forrest City (named for Confederate general and
KKK founder Nathan Bedford Forrest) only because there is an HIE there,
conveniently located close to I-40. We never went into the town which,
ironically, is majority African American and has had several Black mayors in
recent years (according to Wikipedia).
Days 3 and 4 – Nashville, Tennessee. While in his daily “banishment” to the
Holiday Inn Express breakfast area while Betsy sleeps in, Dave had a
serendipitous encounter with a female athlete. A statuesque African American
woman approached Dave toward the front of the lobby to ask if he could give her
car a jump. I recall hearing him back in the room but didn’t know why. It was
him getting his keys to move the truck and help her out. During the encounter
it slowly leaked out that not only was she taller than him, but she had just
been cut by the WNBA Chicago Sky, had played college ball at UT, and was on her
way back to her home state of California to complete her law studies. Imani
McGee-Stafford’s mom Pamela was a Title IX pioneer and member of the 1984
Olympic Gold medal team, played in the WNBA’s first year in 1997, and is the
only woman Olympic gold medalist to give birth to another Olympian. She did
leave contact info on Dave’s phone, and I’m inclined to try to call the mom for
her Title IX thoughts as I move forward on my project.
 |
| The mascot of the Nashville Sounds is a chicken? |
We ended the day in Nashville for our first of two AAA
Sounds baseball games, which we walked to from our hotel through an evolving
gentrified neighborhood north of the stadium. We first scouted out food on the
way and found a chicken place that had fabulous (not “hot”) Nashville Chicken.
The first game was a 1-0 victory when the Sounds scored in the bottom of the
8th to defeat the Norfolk Tides. Well-pitched on both sides, and I got my
mascot photo with Booster (the hot chicken). The park was pretty nice, although
the guitar-shaped scoreboard was a bit weird.
Sunday was Mother’s Day, and I had scoped out a
barbeque restaurant supposedly owned by a chef from Central Texas. The brunch
wasn’t great but the fantastic popcorn at the game (a 4-0 Sounds shutout) made
up for it. We left early for the day
game and walked around the gorgeous park fronting the state capitol building,
including the first part of a great ranger-led walk before we left for the
game. One highlight was a timeline wall that ran along the grounds, including a
visible break in the civil war years. Great interp. For supper, we had scouted
out a place to order pizza after the game to bring back to the hotel and had a
long illuminating conversation with the female owner, who moved from Chicago to
be with her grandkids and saw the need to open a Chicago pizza restaurant. When
opened in the neighborhood eight years earlier, her husband, (since deceased)
was held up by gunpoint one night. She said the area had been gradually
improving but that mail theft was still rampant. Finally, in a sign that we need to get a
life, we were awestruck by the walk-in shower at the HIE, which had the
controls opposite the shower head and “high-P” water pressure. It got the only
“10” for shower ratings out of our 20 hotel stays.
Dave’s Comments: My
encounter with Ms. McGee-Stafford was crazy, a weird brush with celebrity in
the unlikeliest of places. I was sitting there in the lobby area of the HIE in (Nathan
Bedford) Forrest City, minding my own business, drinking coffee, and reading
the New York Times on my iPad when McGee-Stafford walks up and asks for a jump.
I had to go up to the room to get the car keys and it was only when I got back
and she and I walked outside, side by side, that I realized she was
considerably taller than me (6-7 v 6-5). I’m pretty sure it’s the first time
(as an adult) that I’ve met a woman taller than me. So, I looked up at her and
said (jokingly); “Have you ever considered playing basketball?”. And she laughs
and tells me she’s on her way home to LA after being one of the last players
cut by the Chicago Sky. That sparked a wide-ranging conversation about her
basketball career and experiences playing at UT, in the WNBA (she played in 130
WNBA games over a four-year career after being drafted in the first round in
2016) and then overseas in China and Israel, and about her incredible family.
Her brother, JaVale McGee is a 14-year NBA veteran, three-time NBA champion
and, like their mother, an Olympic gold medalist. In addition to all of this, McGee-Stafford
is a third-year law school student, which led, of course, to a discussion about
Tex and Rachel being attorneys in Chicago, that they were big Sky fans who were
in attendance when the team won the WNBA championship last year and that we
were in route from home to Chicago to visit them just as McGee-Stafford is in
route from Chicago to her home in LA. Suffice to say, it was a very interesting
start to the day. In Nashville, we got an up-close view of gentrification on
steroids as we walked the mile or so from the hotel to the baseball stadium through
a rapidly changing neighborhood. Nashville definitely seems to be a city on the
upswing. For overall comfort and experience, I think I would rank First Horizon
Park in Nashville as the best minor league stadium on the trip and the HIE
MetroCenter ended up being our top ranked HIE (out of 15) on the trip. Not
surprisingly, when the dust finally settled on the trip, Nashville ranked as
one of our favorite stops.
 |
| Woohoo! #300 |
Day 5 – Charit Creek Lodge, Big South Fork
National Recreation Area, Tennessee. Big South Fork NRA
straddles the Tennessee/Kentucky border and was Dave’s 300th National Park
Service Unit visited. We had a nice 1 ½-mile downhill trek to the cabin, made
it in time for a walk to the creek and craft beer happy hour (with free CC
koozies), and a nice homemade family-style dinner in the dining room. It was
only about 1/3 full but fun to chat with other visitors, many from Knoxville. I
finished my “Even as We Breathe” book and handed it to another guest who was
also an avid reader. Nice quiet visit, but heat and humidity on the way soon,
when the Lodge closes for a few weeks. The young couple managing the place were
getting married after the season, so the owner will have to find another
manager or two. Hope they can cook as well as these guys.
Dave’s Comments: Staying
at this remote and rustic lodge seemed like a unique way to visit this park and
bag my 300th NPS unit – and it was! Because it included both meals
and lodging this turned out to be (barely) our most expensive stay for the
entire trip (calculated on a per night basis), but it was well worth the $274.20.
It was just the two of us in a cabin that sleeps 12, the weather was great, and
the food was good. Charit Creek Lodge is a jumble of buildings, some dating to
1817, spread out along the creek in a deep hollow and is, according to the
website, possibly the oldest currently operating lodging facility in the NPS. The
property transitioned into a hunting lodge in the 1960s but prior to that,
dating back the Daniel Boone days, it was a subsistence farm and one of the people
that farmed it was a guy named William Riley Hatfield, as in the Hatfields and McCoys.
Apparently, W. R. Hatfield moved to the Charit Creek property to escape the infamous
family feud and managed to do so, quietly living out his days on the little
farm in the hollow. He’s buried there on the property, maybe a hundred yards or
so from the cabin where we slept.
Days 6 and 7 –Lexington, Kentucky.
Yummy breakfast at the Lodge before hiking out (uphill). On the way to Mark and
Mary’s we were able to swing by two more brand-new NPS units: Mill Springs
Battlefield NM, home of the Union’s first major Civil War victory; and Camp
Nelson NM, a Union supply depot which had an interesting connection to the “Colored
Troops.” Sadly, both visitor centers were closed on this Tuesday. We had a fun
relaxing visit with Mark and Mary, who also let us use their laundry
facilities. On Thursday we tried to
follow them to Chicago, but went off the route so we could experience Carmel,
Indiana, the “roundabout” capital of the U.S.
By our count we went through 10 of them. We settled into our “cozy”
AirBnB studio, which had a queen bed but an incredible view of downtown
Chicago.
Dave’s Comments: Prior
to 2017 and the wedding I’d never been to Lexington, but the more I see of the
place the more I like it. Mark and Mary’s house is in a fabulous location, just
a short walk from the UK campus and various bars and restaurants that cater to the
UK crowd. We, of course, live adjacent to the UTSA campus (which, believe it or
not, has slightly more students than UK). But it’s not the same thing. Two very
different schools with a very different vibe. Bottom line, I was impressed with
Lexington. It seems like a very nice place to live. In her comments Betsy has
committed a slight faux paus by mentioning some things that occurred on Day 8
in the Days 6 and 7 segment. But, instead of making a big deal about it, I’ll
go ahead and discuss our brief side trip to Carmel, Indiana (which occurred on
Day 8) right now. I am, admittedly, intrigued by roundabouts and their pros and
cons as a traffic management tool. While I believe roundabouts are beneficial
in some intersections, I’m not sure they should be used pervasively. A while
back I read an article in the New York Times about Carmel (which is, basically,
a suburb of Indianapolis) and the city’s aggressive (dare I say, pervasive) use
of roundabouts. As Betsy has mentioned, in just a short trip through the
downtown area we went through 10 roundabouts on two arterial streets and they seemed
to work quite well, allowing us to proceed steadily through multiple
intersections without stopping. One of my biggest concerns with roundabouts is
that the continuous flow of vehicles (and multiple potential conflict points)
can make them difficult to negotiate for pedestrians and bicyclists. For us,
driving a vehicle, they worked very well and sped our trip through town.
Unfortunately, as we tried to find our way back to I-65 to resume our drive to
Chicago we ran into a series of confusing road closures and detours that gave
us a very intimate (and un-speedy) perspective on life in rural Indiana. Once
we got back on I-65 we stopped at (by far) the worst rest area on the entire
trip, and one of the worst that I can recall in my extensive travels around the
country. From the parking area to the restrooms everything about this rest area
was either disgusting or dysfunctional (or both). But the coup de grace was the
water. I filled up a water bottle at a drinking fountain and the water tasted
like it had been extracted from toxic sludge at an EPA Super Fund site. Not
only did I dump the water out, I wanted to throw the bottle away too…but I
couldn’t because all the trash cans were full.
Days 8, 9 and 10 – Chicago, Illinois.
We booked an Airbnb south of downtown so we could be close to the location for
Saturday’s baby shower. Friday was a fun day to explore the Pilsen neighborhood
a few blocks south of us, including a Mexican breakfast, and a few hours at the
National Museum of Mexican American Art. Later we walked north toward the
UI-Chicago campus to get to-go Chinese food. On the way we visited a somber
memorial to children abused by Catholic priests, located on the grounds of St.
Ignatius College Prep. Also, we passed a tattoo parlor with a humongous line of
people waiting outside. Maybe 100 or more? It wasn’t until I asked one of the
mostly young crowd what was going on that I realized it was Friday the 13th; so
the group was in line to get their special Friday the 13th tattoos. Not on my
radar but obviously on many others – including, as we learned later – nephews
Brian and David Bowles.
The Saturday shower was fun and mostly from the Simon
clan. But we enjoyed catching up with a few of Tex’s St. John’s buddies John
and Stephen and John’s wife Clare (who is also expecting). The gifts from
Stephen were amusing, including a baby abacus and a bottle of Scotch (for the
parents), but his excuse was that he had missed the other special events and
was trying to catch up. Great kids. We
think Tex and Rachel appreciated the century-old Pasley family kid’s chair that
neighbor Rick had re-glued and re-stained.
Tex gave me my late Mother’s Day gift (a White Sox
t-shirt) and took us to the game against the Yankees that night. I think it was
the Sox only win, as Louis Robert hit a one-out walk-off single to plate Tim
Anderson for the 3-2 victory. Nice night with Tex, although we were a bit
nervous about him accompanying us back to our place before finding transit
connections up to the northside. We are still parents after all. He needed to
get home after learning that one of Rachel’s App State friends died at 29 of Covid-related
issues that night.
Dave’s Comments: Both
our Airbnb and the baby shower venue had incredible views of the downtown
skyline. Say what you will about Chicago, but it has a fantastic skyline and
the tiny (but nearly brand new) efficiency apartment that we rented (the third-most
expensive per night rental on the trip) had floor-to-ceiling windows facing
right at that skyline.
Day 11 – North East, Pennsylvania.
On our longest drive of the trip (460 miles, including losing an hour to
Eastern time) we were finally able to use the EZ Pass transponder that Dave had
researched and had sent to Tex for our trip. Dave will total up the charges
over many states, but the roads were mostly great and worth the extra expense.
Our second Cracker Barrel stop was welcome after a long day.
Dave’s Comments: I
knew that toll roads were going to be a major issue on this trip, but I didn’t
stumble on to the fact that there is a coalition of 19 eastern states using EZ
Pass until a couple of weeks prior to our departure date. Based on a bit of
googling it seemed like the Virginia DOT might be the best state to get an
account with, so I set one up and ordered a transponder from VDOT and had it
sent to Tex in case it arrived after we left home. It was, I must say, a
brilliant move that saved us lots of time, money and stress. We spent $103.10
on tolls in nine states. That includes Texas, which is not part of the EZPass
system but has the TxTag (which works not only on all toll roads in Texas, but
also Oklahoma and Kansas). We already had TxTag and we also have Express Toll
for use in Colorado. Thus, we’ve now got accounts and transponders covering
toll roads in 23 states!
I should also mention that the place we stopped for
the night, North East, Pennsylvania is not a geographic reference, it’s the
actual name of a small town near Erie, Pennsylvania which is, ironically, in
the northwest corner of Pennsylvania.
This might also be a good time to describe our travel
routine on so-called “moving days”, those days when we are mostly driving and
chewing up miles. Over many years of traveling we’ve become, somewhat by
default, brand-loyal to Holiday Inn Express, because they are ubiquitous and usually
deliver a decent, convenient, consistent place to stay at an acceptable price.
We like the HIE breakfast because there’s usually a decent selection of foods
that we both like, and that helps us get off to a quicker start in the morning.
This stop on Day 11 was our fourth HIE and fifth HIE night (out of 15/17 totals)
on the trip.
On moving days, we also like to call ahead (or try to
use the clunky app) and order meals from Cracker Barrel. Similar to HIEs. CBs
are numerous and often conveniently located along interstate highways (often in
close proximity to an HIE). We like the comfort food selections at CBs, and we
especially like the variety and quality of the vegetable offerings.
Thus, our routine is to find a Cracker Barrel along
the route to our pre-reserved HIE, pick up the food (sometimes by curbside
delivery), proceed to the motel, grab our bags, the food and some cold beers
and check-in to our room (which has a microwave to reheat the food and a fridge
to keep the beer cold). Prior to this trip we purchased some new luggage pieces
from REI that are, essentially, suitcase backpacks. We also bought bags to hold
our pillows that can be slung over our shoulders. Thus, between the two of us,
we were able to get all of our luggage, pillows, food and beer into the room in
one trip.
Similar to the EZ Pass, this routine (and the new
luggage) was helpful in making the long driving days more efficient and less
stressful.
Day 12 and 13 – Ithaca, New York.
On the way to stay with Laurel in Ithaca we found a covered bridge and drove
through it before arriving at the “Church of What’s Happening Now.” It turned
out that Laurel had to make a trip to Syracuse, so we let ourselves in. I
attempted a walk but it began to rain and I got soaked. Dave waited and had a
much better jog before Laurel came home to fix up shrimp scampi and some tasty
garlic bread (I got the recipe!) She drove us around to a few tourist stops,
including a great photo at one of the gorges, a visit to a Cornell campus
museum that had a 360-degree view of the town and lakes, and a stop by the
prayer drum (?) at the Buddhist temple still under construction. Lunch at Whole Foods was OK but the steaks
Laurel cooked on her Green Egg smoker were delicious.
Dave’s Comments: For
readers that don’t know, Laurel lives in a church. I should say, a former
church. Imagine a one-room church with seating for maybe 50 or so parishioners located
in an idyllic setting of farms and fields in rural Upstate New York. And then
imagine that this church has been converted, without a whole lot of
modifications, into a residence. That should give you a pretty good mental
image of the “Church of What’s Happening Now”.
Day 14 – Buffalo, New York.
We snagged a tour at Teddy R’s Inauguration site after McKinley’s death and
took some fun “Pasley President photos” in the small but informative house and
exhibits. After arriving at our downtown HIE we learned there was a train that
would take us the several blocks to the Bisons ballpark. So on a drizzly
evening we headed down for the 6 p.m. start, flummoxed as we neared the stadium
that we didn’t see other fans. Of all the cities in the U.S., who would’ve
thought Buffalo would be the one to cancel the game in the light precipitation?
They instead postponed it to the next day for a double-header, but that
conflicted with our Rochester Red Wings day-game plans.
It turned out to be a fortuitous change of plans.
After quaffing a beer at a sparsely attended brewery nearby the stadium, we
took the train back toward the hotel and found a nearby pub. As is our routine,
we sat at the bar, where we often have interesting conversations with locals.
When Dave asked the Black man sitting by him what his dish was (it was Ramen)
we struck up a very sad but interesting dialogue. Just a few days before a
white “replacement theory” believer had traveled hours to a Tops Friendly grocery
store in Buffalo and murdered 10 locals with his AR15 rifle. (In fact, two days
earlier we discussed if it was wise to stay on our schedule if there was some
local backlash; we did.) Our new friend was a cameraman for CBS News and had
traveled from Brooklyn to take part in the coverage. We learned he had two kids
and a wife back home and it was obvious he feared for their safety. After he
mentioned the outpouring of sympathy he saw from visitors – black and white
alike – Dave asked him for the address and said we’d attempt to go by there the
next day. Considering our earlier hesitation, it was definitely an about-face,
but a meaningful one.
Dave’s Comments: The
thing that struck me most about Buffalo was how quiet it was. There weren’t
very many people out on the streets. Maybe it was the weather (cool, overcast,
drizzle), maybe it was the aftermath of the shooting, maybe it was Covid, maybe
this is typical. I’m not sure of the reasons, but Buffalo was very, very quiet.
Day 15 – Geneva, New York.
We did swing by the site of the shooting, which was ringed off by yellow
caution tape and police cruisers. But we found a memorial on the corner and
each laid down a personal note we had written. A young black man also left a
memento while we were there, and I asked if he’d give me a hug. His leather
jacket smelled of smoke, but the hug was heartfelt and very sad. I couldn’t
stop crying. But I am glad the game was cancelled. After that we rushed to
Rochester for the 11:30 game, only to find it in a rain delay. We used the time
to enjoy a Philly Cheesesteak sandwich and get BOTH
mascot photos (Spikes and Mittsey) before the game started about an hour late.
We were glad it was a day game, since it was a 10-9 barnburner, with the Red
Wings beating the Lehigh Valley Iron Pigs on another walk-off, this one a
single after the previous batter walked, stole a base, and advanced to third on
an error. All told my scorebook logged 29 hits (including 21 singles and 4
Texas Leaguers), 9 stolen bases (plus two caught stealing), 7 walks, 4 errors,
11 pitchers, and 17 strikeouts. Also, I notched a rare 9-7 Domino win. Whew! I
did note the last name of the Pigs shortstop Nick Maton. Turns out he is the
younger brother of Astros reliever Phil. Also, it was the alternate team name
marketing day and we couldn’t figure out what the layered food image on the
RW’s jerseys represented, until I asked an usher. Turns out the team calls
itself the “Plates” to commemorate the local “garbage plate” dish which is
apparently an amalgamation of fries, burgers, hot dogs, gravy and who knows
what else. I did bag two more strange tall mascots on the way out. I think four
could be a new record!
On the way to Geneva, we took a detour to drive along
Lake Ontario, and then along about 30 miles of the Erie Canal that I found on
the map. We finally made to Geneva, a touristy-looking place on the top of
Seneca Lake and ate at a mediocre local restaurant.
Dave’s Comments: This was one of the
craziest baseball games I’ve seen, but it was a good one. Speaking of good, the
Philly cheesesteak sandwich that Betsy mentions was, by far, the best ballpark
food (possibly the best food item, period) on the entire trip. A lot of people
simply don’t understand that one of the keys to a “real” Philly cheesesteak
sandwich is Cheez Whiz. Fortunately, the concessionaires at the ballpark in
Rochester got that memo.
Day 16 – Clifton Park, New York.
We hit three NPS sites, all open! I was surprised to learn that Seneca Falls
was not only the site of the birth of the first Women’s Movement, but also the
inspiration for “It’s a Wonderful Life.” I found out too late that we could
have driven across the bridge off which Clarence jumped in the river to save
George. Darn. We did hear a good summary at the Methodist meeting hall where
Stanton et al launched their movement and presented the “Declaration of
Sentiments,” including the intro that “all men AND WOMEN are created equal.”
The (female) ranger told the story well, including the part about a young Black
man in the back of the room who implores the group to focus on just one primary
goal (voting), instead of the multiple ones they laid out. That man was
Frederick Douglass. It took more than 70 years but the efforts of Stanton and
her husband, along Anthony and many others did result in the 19th amendment
giving women the right to vote. I was also pleased to see a historic plaque at
First Presbyterian Church, where the idea of the ERA was first presented by
Alice Paul in 1923. Of course, that was finally approved in 1971 but swatted
down just three states short of ratification.
We then hit the yet-to-be completed Harriett Tubman
site in Auburn, as well as an Equal Rights Center there that had a Harriett
statue. Then it was on to the Fort
Stanwix site in Rome, NY. Great interp of skirmishes involving loyalists,
colonial women, patriots and Native Americans in 1777. The female ranger gave
some good insight into the connection to the Erie Canal, which started nearby in
1817 with “Clinton’s Ditch.” The origin spot was logical, since for centuries a
six-mile stretch had functioned as the “Carrying Place” for the Oneida. Now
they were connecting it for shipping. We crossed back and forth over the canal
numerous times en route to Clifton Park near the Hudson River in the Albany
area.
As an aside, this was one of the few rainy days on our
entire trip.
Dave’s Comments: I’m
pretty sure it was also the last rainy day on the trip.
Days 17 and 18 – Springfield Massachusetts.
We visited four national parks in one day. Saratoga was a good extension of the
previous day’s Rev War visit. We thought the VC was closed but were pleased to
see it wasn’t, and impressed by a female volunteer (former banker) who really
knew her stuff and presented it enthusiastically. The story here was connected
to (then patriot) Benedict Arnold, who took advantage of the delay caused at
Ft. Stanwix to help force the first-ever British surrender in October, 1777.
This was the first of many national parks that we visited on this trip that function
more as local parks for hikers and bikers than historic sites, and the rolling
hills here were gorgeous. But it was a muggy 92 degrees, so we drove part of
the historic road.
We briefly drove by the dilapidated home in Troy, NY
of female labor leader Kate Mullaney. It’s supposed to be made into a park site
but has a ways to go. Finally we hit the Catskills home of painter Thomas Cole.
Had never heard of him but enjoyed his landscapes and learned he was the founder
in the 1860s of a group called the Hudson River Art School, which we would see
again in our NY travels. It cost $16 but was a great tour. To get to the final
stop at Martin Van Buren’s “Lindenwood” house in Kinderhook, we crossed the
Hudson River over the Rip Van Winkle bridge, and would later see the confluence
of the Mohawk (which parallels parts of the Erie Canal) and the Hudson.
We didn’t know what to expect in Springfield, and
weren’t disappointed! We were “downtown” near the Connecticut River, but it was
a sad setup that seemed propped up by the MGM Casino that took up several
blocks near our hotel. Our first morning we made a mile-long drippy hot hike
almost straight uphill to the Springfield Armory, an expansive campus filled
with red brick buildings – many of which we discovered are still in use as a
community college. The Armory itself was the first major manufacturer of muskets,
opening in 1777 (same year as Ft. Stanwix and Saratoga!) and was built by the
U.S. Army at the highest point in town, and evolved into a research facility
before closing after almost two centuries in 1968. It played a huge role in
arming Union troops in the Civil War, briefly as the only armory in the North
after Harpers Ferry was destroyed. Their most famous product was the
“Springfield Rifle,” which was used by Army troops in the first two world wars.
We’re not huge gun fans so didn’t appreciate it as much for the museum portion,
although the manufacturing sections were somewhat interesting. (one Ranger story was a bit creepy as we
viewed an AR-15 semi-automatic through the case. He said some visitors will set
up a stool and gaze at it for hours.) Also, the focal point of the museum was
an “Organ of Muskets” case that vertically housed almost 700 1861 rifles, and
the story of the outside black fence made out of melted-down cannons was pretty
cool. When we talked to the Ranger in the gift shop she mentioned being trained
in historic weapons, so we asked if she knew our buddy Jason Howell from
Moore’s Creek. We shouldn’t have been surprised: it turns out he trained her!
Cool connection.
At least it was a downhill walk to lunch (at the
casino) and then on to our second destination: the Basketball Hall of Fame. We
had to pass by one of the largest, fanciest marijuana stores we’ve ever seen;
it seemed the size of a Target store, but I’m sure it wasn’t. Which reminds me
that one of the most memorable aromas from our Big East trip was the sweet
smell of pot, which was apparently legal for outside recreational use in many
states we visited.
Anyway, we had a few hours to visit the BB HoF and it
was OK with lots of video and interactive stuff, but not terribly nostalgic
(although Dave may disagree.) I was generally interested in the history, but
enthusiastic about how it covered the women’s game since that’s been my focus
the past few years. They did give credit to Senda Berenson as the founder of
the women’s game, inducting her in 1985. It was 7 years later (1992) before
another female made the Hall. The Title
IX mention was pretty lame (as it also was at Seneca Falls), but I did have fun
in the actual Hall locating the Wayland Baptist Flying Queens, the All-American
Redheads, and Jody Conradt, who wrote the foreword for our book. I think my
favorite part of this visit was watching area youth teams playing games on the
Center Court of the museum. The games switched between girls and boys, and I
was amazed how talented these girls were at the age of 9 or 10. We have come a
long way.
Dave’s Comments: We’ve
now been to all three of the “major sports” halls of fame (baseball, football
and basketball) and I’d definitely rank the basketball HOF third on that list…a
distant third. Remember what I said about Nashville being a city on the
upswing? Springfield seems to be a city swinging in the other direction. Springfield
was one of my least favorite stops on the trip.
Day 19, 20, 21 and 22 – Bar Harbor, Maine.
On the way to Acadia, we stopped at the national historic site in Lowell, MA.
It was the first “company town” for textile mills powered by turbines run
through falls in the nearby river and constructed canals throughout the town.
These early industrial age companies first employed mostly women who came to
town from farms around the region. But when they formed a union and protested
the dismal working conditions (12 to 14-hour days, incessant noise and
unhealthy air filled with lint), the owners drafted immigrants instead for
lower pay – a trend that persisted in the era for men and women. I guess today
some would consider it “replacement theory” of immigrants over American
citizens, which has been part of the anti-immigrant mantra since. The site
includes multiple buildings and museums, including one that has a warehouse of
looms set up and runs them periodically. The noise of just a fraction of the
machines running is still deafening; I can’t imagine the din when fully
functioning. The NPS interp is spread along the canals and throughout the town,
which has kept its 19th-century red-brick charm, and also built a plaza
honoring native son Jack Kerouac, who authored “On the Road” in 1957.
After we arrived in Bar Harbor, we ate at a place
recommended by jogging friend Ken Hummel, who thought it seemed more of a local
hangout than tourist. We liked the place OK for our first dinner in BH, but not
sure I’d buy into the “local” part.
Knowing it was probably a tourist trap, we still
decided to stay in Bar Harbor since it seemed ridiculously close to Acadia NP
for my first visit, and Dave’s first one in decades. Months ago we evaluated
the nightly rates, and noticed they almost multiplied the Friday before
Memorial Day. So we chose the cheapest option with halfway decent ratings, and
planned on leaving before the rate hike. It worked well. The Anchorage Motel
was pretty basic and the rooms not terribly big, but we didn’t plan to spend
much time there. When we checked in I asked about a good breakfast place, and
the lady at the desk suggested Jordans, which was a few blocks away from the
touristy scrum by the bay. It was great advice. Their feature breakfast was
fresh Maine blueberry pancakes, and the toast option on a regular meal included
a tasty blueberry muffin. We did ponder if it wasn’t too early for “fresh” and
wondered where the berries came from. Regardless, the food was great and Dave
ate all four breakfasts there. I went three times, and consumed a delicious
popover with “fresh” blueberry jam on Dave’s hiking day.
First thing Tuesday we considered our schedule, since
we learned Brian and Dave were coming to NH on Friday. So we adjusted our
scheduled, cancelling what would have been the most expensive night on our trip
in Portland (and a Sea Dogs game.) It did open up Monday for two more NPS
sites, which worked out well. After those changes, we made tracks to the
visitor center, where we really didn’t get great advice. But we got our maps
and decided to drive the park road, including a trek the top of Cadillac Mountain,
the highest point on the eastern seaboard at 1,500 feet. We had paid for a
Friday pass there, since that would be the start of the busy season that
resulted in long lines to the top, but this worked out much better. It was a
perfect cool and clear blue day to tramp all over the pink monolith (not unlike
Enchanted Rock in Texas) and check out almost 360 degrees of spectacular views.
There were also great historic interp panels on the
mountain, including the new word “rusticators,” representing the rich New
Yorkers who built huge cottages on Mount Desert Island. But some did more. John
D. Rockefeller and George B. Dorr get props for all their work on creating the
first national park in the East. It was first named Lafayette Park and then
renamed Acadia.
The next day we had a fairly easy 8-mile hike around
Jordan Lake and some of the carriage roads around it. We tried to find a less
expensive lobster “pound” (yes, like a dog pound) but the ideas shared by our
motel clerk weren’t open yet. So we went into the heart of the bay scrum and
spent a ridiculous amount of money on fresh Maine Lobster at a kitschy
restaurant. I paid them to do all the
disassembly and it was the best $5 I’ve ever spent! Not sure if it was worth
it, but we felt we had to have fresh lobster while in Maine.
On our final day, Dave hiked 8miles on his own to
Great Head and Beehive and Mt. Gorham at 500’ (a bit shorter than the 14ers he
frequents in CO.) Beehive had ladders and lots of exposure – perfect for Dave.
After eating my popover and strolling around downtown and doing some work in
the motel room, I walked at low tide to Bar Island, the sandbar after which Bar
Harbor is named. It’s about a ½-mile walk across gravel to get there, and
another mile or so to the “top” with a view back to the town. I was joined on
the first part by hundreds of fellow “hikers” but much fewer in the pretty
forested trek onward. We all had about a three-hour window before the tide came
back in, a fact repeated through many signs along the way.
We had made evening plans based on stumbling over a
movie theater the evening before, and Dave said he would be OK in watching the
5 p.m. showing of Downton Abbey, a sequel to the PBS series we enjoyed years
ago. Because of Covid, I haven’t been in a theater in over two years, and was
looking forward to some beer and popcorn in a dark room. But the small place
was understaffed and overwhelmed, and while Dave was standing in the beer line
I told him I wanted to bail. I don’t think he was very disappointed. In search
for a craft beer, we veered off the beaten tourist track and found the Dog and
Pony Tavern. Finally, a true locals pub. We ordered beers, a semi-affordable
lobster roll, and fried haddock. We agreed that aside from Jordan’s breakfast,
it was our best meal on the island.
All in all a fantastic visit, great weather (although
Dave did have to bundle up at night), functional motel room at an affordable
price in that pre-Memorial Day window. We also avoided the cruise ships, which
Dave discovered were in the area but were forced to dock behind the island and
out of sight, so they didn’t affect the “character” of the town. The visitation
is crazy; the motel clerk said the park got 1 million MORE visitors than normal
last season, and they are expecting even more in 2022. Yikes. I hope they don’t
love it to death.
Since we just had three days, we decided not to notch
the two NPS sites to the north (one the only international site) because it
would have killed a day. The current count: Dave 310 and me 285.
(On a down note, we heard on the news that 19 children
and 2 teachers were gunned down in Uvalde, not far from S.A.)
Dave’s Comments: An
excellent summary by Betsy. Bar Harbor and Acadia NP are crowded (even in the
“off” season) and touristy but, wowzah, what a beautiful place. I was surprised
by the patchwork nature of the park, where you cross back and forth from public
to private land, including several enclave towns in addition to Bar Harbor. Our
room at the Anchorage Motel was perfect with a super-convenient location that
allowed us to walk anywhere in town but also quickly drive out of town and into
the park. The parking was easy, the coffee was good, and the staff was friendly
and helpful. Furthermore, with the fourth least expensive per night rate
($140.61) in a notoriously expensive town (Bar Harbor) the Anchorage Motel
easily claimed the title of “Best Value” for the trip. Say what you will about
John D. Rockefeller, Jr. but there are many national parks (Acadia, Grand Teton
and many others) that would not be what they are today without his
contributions, foresight and commitment to preserving open space. Acadia especially
would not exist if not for the efforts of Rockefeller and George Dorr. There’s
no question Acadia was created by rich people (over the objections of other
rich people) and caters to (mostly) relatively wealthy visitors today. So, yes,
it’s elitist; but it’s also a gem, and the American people are fortunate to
have it.
Day 23, 24 and 25 – Sharon, New Hampshire.
We timed it perfectly, arriving in the afternoon at the exact time Brian and
David were unpacking their car. We had a nice pulled pork supper and stayed up
late for great conversation. The next day Sue and I headed to Peterborough and
the boys went the other way on a rainy Saturday. We hit the bookstore the movie
theater (finally, Downton Abbey), and the brewery. That morning we had
researched the IPAs and Dave sent the growler with me for “our town.” But when
we arrived the employee said that was their flagship beer and they didn’t fill
growlers – or even sell it retail beyond pints at the brewery. When I explained
I wasn’t a spy and Sue confirmed I was from out of town, she asked the owner
who made an exception while asking me to keep it quiet. The tag on the growler
even said “shhhh.” The movie theater is quaint and had great popcorn. Nothing
better than a matinee on a rainy afternoon, although the movie wasn’t great. We
also stopped by the local jeweler, who Sue was chatting up. She was the founder’s
daughter, and told a fabulous story about a local “hermit” woman. The woman,
who had no family and had a terminal illness, approached Ms. Hobbs to sell her
jewelry to pay for her funeral. Hobbs
visited the woman’s small cabin, only to find some fabulous pottery art pieces.
When she asked about it, the woman said she just kept them in her house and
didn’t market them. Hobbs started to put some in her store window and raised
money that way too. What a neat story.
I thought the four guys were just going to the store,
but they also visited an Antique store and a Burberry outlet, where Dave found
a gorgeous yellow sweater for 75% off. It came in handy until we headed back
south. On Sunday we made the requisite pilgrimage to Kimbell’s the local ice
cream hangout. But for the first time we also ate a late lunch there, from a
menu that featured a lot of fried seafood. With fried onions, it was pretty
tasty. The boys (and Violet) were such fun to hang out with, and it was a truly
relaxing visit. So glad it worked out.
Dave’s Comments: Another
nice summary by Betsy, but she forgot to mention our stop at the Maine State
Capitol in Augusta on Day 23. It was the Friday before Memorial Day weekend, so
we pretty much had the building to ourselves. It was Betsy’s 44th
state capitol visit (I’m at 49; she’s missing MI, VT, WV, RI, AK and neither of
us have been to HI). My previous visit was in 2003 with Tex. Although we did
miss out on Portland, and we’ve never been to Portland, the adjustment in our
schedule worked out nicely (essentially it was a trade-off that allowed for Day
26), and we had a perfect visit with the Bowles clan at their
just-recently-solar-powered house (not 100% off-the-grid solar, but significantly
solar).
Day 26 – back to New York (Queensbury).
The two NPS sites on our aspirational itinerary, which represented the only
ones in NH and Vermont, became a reality after we altered our plans. Although
they were a little north of Chet and Sue’s and only 20 miles apart, we came to
the realization that there was no way the Bowles would want to venture out. So
on Memorial Day we bid farewell and drove first to Saint-Gaudens, another
artist site that doesn’t fit the stereotype for most NPS sites. Augustus Saint-Gaudens
was an influential American sculptor in the late 1800s who has had several
noteworthy pieces placed around the country. Several replicas dotted the
acreage, which had been made from the original casts. Three examples: “Standing
Lincoln” in Chicago’s Lincoln Park was considered the first that made Abe look
like a normal person; The Admiral David Farragut statue that is in NYC
memorialized the Civil War Naval hero; and the Shaw Memorial that resides on
the Boston Green and took 14 years to complete. Shaw was a white Civil War
captain who led the first African American unit from Massachusetts. He and many
of his soldiers died in a battle soon after. Not unlike the story we heard at
Thomas Cole’s house, Saint-Gaudens led his own artist colony from his house in Cornish,
N.H. that is now a National Historical Park.
Marsh-Billings-Rockefeller may have been one of our
least favorite NPS stops but it did pay tribute to a group of environmentalists
in Vermont who were watching the incoming settlers decimate the forests around
their mansion, which was built in 1869. As the author of the book “Man and
Nature,” Marsh is considered the father of the environmental and sustainable
farming movements. Billings was the founder of the town in Montana, and when
his granddaughter married into John D’s line (he of the Acadia founders), they
continued to use the summer home and support causes like the NPS. One frequent
famous visitor was Lady Bird Johnson, whose favorite room was the guest
quarters with a plaid carpet. [I have a photo.]
On both tours we observed 1) the rusty NPS Rangers’
first tours of the season and 2) Kids. The Tennessee kids at Saint-Gaudens were
7 and 11 and were mildly annoying with their questions and observations about
cobwebs, but I was glad to see they were engaged, like I think Tex used to be
on our outings. At MBR one couple had a wriggly 4-year-old (Dave said it was a
boy, I think it was a girl) who was obviously not eager for the one-hour tour.
We ended the day swinging by Calvin Coolidge’s birthplace, his parents’ house where
he took the oath of office after Harding died (administered by his father, who
was a justice of the peace) – the second on our trip – and, just down the road,
the cemetery where he is buried. From cradle to grave! We took a KFC dinner to
our HIE in Queensbury at the southern tip of Lake George and slept on an awful
mattress. Even though it was Memorial Day we drove by a vacant Six Flags theme
park. Weird.
Dave’s Comments: This
was a good and very interesting day, and it helped by getting us over the
mountains and into New York for pretty much a straight shot south down the
Thruway toward Pennsylvania on Day 27. Also, this was our sixth night spent in
New York, giving that state the clear lead for the trip. Maine came in second
with four nights. Tennessee, Illinois, New Hampshire and Washington DC tied for
third place with three nights each. I’m pretty sure the kid at Marsh-Billings
was a boy that had never had his hair cut. Betsy thinks it was a girl. Either
way, the most annoying thing was that the dad did absolutely nothing to help
out the mom who held the squirmy boy/girl for the entire hour-long tour. It was
like the dad lived on a different planet.
Day 27 – Scranton, Pennsylvania.
Dave noted the odometer was at 4,451 miles. While heading out of NY, Dave said
he had plugged a “surprise” destination into our GPS. Our original goal was
Scranton, with a visit to Steamtown NHP the following day. But our itinerary
adjustment around NH gave us a shorter day, so we decided to knock that off today
and maybe add an extra stop at the Eisenhower Historic Site near Gettysburg. It seems I might have a chance to break 300
sites after all on this trip. Dave’s surprise? The NJ high point, which Dave
and Tex had “summited” in 2002 when they were on the way to Islip airport on
Long Island to pick me up for the U.S. Open at Bethpage. Now we could add my
date to Dave’s Highpointers book, which lives in the side pocket of the back
seat.
Steamtown lived up to its billing. It was a huge
setting with lots of trains and interp about how steam-powered engines worked,
but with the A/C out in the buildings on a hot, steamy (pun intended) day it
wasn’t too comfortable. Some of the trains were still operating and being
maintained by the NPS, and it seems they occasionally run them down the track.
Would be a fun stop for a train enthusiast, and was OK for us. We got to our
Fairfield Inn with time to chill (literally) before heading to the Scranton Wilkes
Barre AAA Railriders game against (again) the Lehigh Valley Iron Pigs. As a
crow flies, the stadium is close to the hotel but it’s down a steep hill on a
busy street, so we drove, and were able to look up at the hotel from our seats.
We got fantastic seats five rows up and saw Didi Gregorious hit the first pitch
for a home. He had been Derek Jeter’s replacement at shortstop for the Yankees,
but that apparently didn’t work out. He’s now in the Phillies system. Wow.
Also, the Pigs put in a reliever named Appel, who I remembered as the No. 1
player overall and picked by the Astros in a former draft. He never came to
terms on a contract, never played for them, and had a few mediocre years in the
minor leagues. Now, nine years later, he’s attempting a comeback. It was a
pretty one-sided game with the Pig’s six-run inning helping them to a 7-3
victory before one of the smallest and deadest crowds I’ve experienced at any
game. The $2 Landshark tall boys helped pass the time.
Dave’s Comments: Steamtown
National Historic Site will not go down as one of my favorite parks, nor will
PNC Field in Moosic, PA go down as one of my favorite baseball stadiums.
Downtown Scranton was surprisingly busy and congested, which surprised me. A
highpoint of Day 27 (pun intended) was Betsy snagging her 20th state
high point in New Jersey. Ohio was Betsy’s HP #19, which she summited in
September 2014. Keep plugging away at em Betsy!
Day 28 and 29 – Frederick, Maryland.
We hit three NPS sites this day! Thanks to our change we made the Eisenhower Historic
Site, Catoctin Mountain Park, and Antietam Battlefield. On another steamy day,
we walked around Ike’s place, including his putting green behind the White
House “retreat.” One visitor in a Lincoln land yacht asked permission to putt
on the surface, and we passed him with his putter for that experience. Cool.
Another presidential retreat was part of our brief visit to Catoctin Mountain
Park, which had been constructed during the Depression by the CCC and WPA. FDR
discovered a section that he also used as a retreat and named it “Shangri-La.”
Dwight renamed it Camp David after his son. When we asked the Ranger where it
was, she put her hands across the entire map and said, “somewhere in there.”
Also, Dave had a spirited conversation with the staff about the brochure
stating Catoctin was the first location for LBJ’s “Job Corps,” which he thought
started in San Marcos. Finally, we visited Antietam, which I’ve been curious about
since our first house in Liberty MO was on Antietam Court, in a subdivision
where all of streets were named for Civil War battles. Antietam was a strange
battle: apparently McClellan had the benefit of a stolen Lee “order 191” copy
but still fought to a bloody draw. It
did repulse Lee’s first foray into Union territory. It was also one of the
first sites of photos of dead soldiers, which presented a side of the war that
civilians hadn’t seen before. Since cameras of the day had long shutter speeds,
they could only capture still objects (or live people standing perfectly
still.) Sobering.
We finished the day in Frederick at another Fairfield
Inn, eating Cracker Barrel and repacking for our DC visit and doing laundry.
Not far from our hotel was a Costco (cheaper gas!) and
the Monocacy Civil War site, which we briefly visited. The interp at Monocacy,
which was significant since it delayed Jubal Early’s Rebel troops for a day,
giving the Union time to build a better defense of DC. I loved this quote in
the exhibits talking about how the Confederate troops were too exhausted from
making a hasty trek to Ft. Stanley and weren’t ready for the morning battle:
“Early was late.” The Confederates were pushed back, and the capital was saved.
The “college draft” wooden bat league game with the Keys was fun, although the
local chatter was about their losing an Orioles franchise in the 2020 minor
league cutbacks. But they still seemed to support the new lower-class team.
While planning our drive to the park, I noticed on
Google Maps that Francis Scott Key’s burial place was just up the street. So we
parked at the stadium, walked uphill into downtown for a quick view of the
historic buildings and pedestrian canal before stopping by the Key monument in
the cemetery to pay homage. It was opening day, and while Dave was checking out
t-shirts a young woman approached us with a notepad. She introduced herself as
Clara from the local paper (the News Post) and asked if she could interview us.
It was fun to see an enthusiastic journalist who was thrilled to have her own
press pass. Our quotes made it into the article she wrote for the newspaper the
next day, near the bottom. I noticed her normal beat was crime and her last
story was about a local man arrested for having more than 20,000 pornographic
images on his computer. Quite the difference in topic. It was a beautiful
evening and fun to see the seventh-inning tradition of patrons shaking their
car keys (get it?).
Dave’s Comments: The
Eisenhower NHS is one of many oddball and somewhat confusing NPS sites.
Although it is a separate park unit it is adjacent to the much more visited
Gettysburg National Military Park. We had already been to Gettysburg and we
were pressed for time but we had to go into the (brand new, very nice and quite
busy) Gettysburg Visitor Center to figure out how to get to the Eisenhower
site, which was, unfortunately, not open for tours the day we were there.
Apparently, the fact that America’s best-known 20th century general had a small
farm adjacent to the Civil War’s best-known battlefield is a complete coincidence.
The battlefield had nothing to do with Ike and Mamie buying the farm. During
his Army career they lived in base housing and never owned their own house. With
retirement on the horizon, a friend recommended the farm near Gettysburg for
its pastoral beauty and the Eisenhower’s bought it in 1950 and then plowed
substantial resources into renovating the house, moving in when he was
president in 1955. When he died Ike donated it to the park service with Mamie allowed
to live there until she died in 1979. It's a relatively modest house (with a large,
well-maintained putting green in the yard, including sand traps) in a beautiful
setting of rolling farmland in southern Pennsylvania. We were disappointed to
miss the tour, but we were able to walk around the grounds, which are quite
lovely.
From there we went to another unusual NPS site (just 20
miles south of Gettysburg), the only one of the 427 NPS units that carries the
designation “Mountain Park”. The federal government bought the property in 1935
to use as a demonstration area for the newly created WPA/CCC.
In 1942 FDR started using a portion of the CCC camp
facilities as a retreat he called Shangri-La. When he was president, Ike
renamed the retreat Camp David (for his grandson and father).
And yes, I stand corrected. The first Job Corps site
was established at Catoctin in 1964 as a test site, and the more robust Gary
Job Corps in San Marcos (where LBJ went to college) was established a few
months later, in 1965 when LBJ rolled out his plans for the War on Poverty.
Gary is the largest Job Corps site in the U.S. and is still operating.
Frederick is an interesting place, sort of a mash up
between a colonial-era town and a modern suburb. The drive from there to Dulles
Airport was surprisingly quick and easy.
Days 30, 31 and 32 – Washington D.C.
After reading the online posting of Clara’s story, we headed to Dulles to park
and take the bus and train into town. We checked into our room, but the A/C
didn’t work. Ultimately, that worked well for us because they moved us to a
nicer suite. Dinner was happy hour tapas at the Teddy and Bully Bar nearby; a
nice nod to our earlier NPS site visit. Tex and the wedding party were at the
rehearsal dinner, and the 8 p.m. drinks turned into them returning an hour
later. We went downstairs to see Tex, but the small bar was overwhelmed so we
didn’t stay long. He did agree to join us for breakfast and a trek to the Mary
McCleod Bethune house before he had to prepare for the wedding. It was a fun
visit where we learned a lot about MMB. She was the 15th of 17 kids born in
Florida. Her parents were offered an education voucher just one child, and they
chose Mary, who then dedicated her life to education and progress for African
American women. She was active in establishing a women’s organization and
worked for four administrations, including FDR. She was a good friend of
Eleanor, and it seems she might have known Frances Perkins, who I was reading
about at that moment, but I couldn’t find a connection. My favorite story was
when a statue of her with children was installed in 1974 in DC’s Lincoln Park.
According to Wikipedia, it’s the first statue erected on public land in
Washington, D.C. to honor an African American and a woman. A Lincoln statue was
located about 100 yards to the west, but when hers was placed they also turned
Abe around 180 degrees, so he’d be facing her.
I also just learned that she will also be the first Black American in
the Capitol’s statuary hall this year, replacing the Confederate general
Florida had used earlier.
Nora and Eric really lucked out with the weather for
their 5:30 outdoor wedding at the Lincoln Cottage north of town. The sun was
unobscured but the temps were low 80s, so manageable. Rachel was resplendent in
her (rented) blue gown as the matron of honor, and the ceremony was very nice.
The drinks inside and outside the cottage preceded a sit-down dinner under a
tent. Mary asked Dave and I to keep an eye out for her friend Roxy. Her
traveling partner had his own plans, so we accompanied her on the bus and at
the event, learning about her fascinating career in corrections as a parole
officer. Interesting lady. It would have been nice had not the organizers
canceled the 9:45 bus when the music switched to loud and unfamiliar. Luckily
the historic site HQ was open so we could wander around the informative
exhibits about the cottage. Although we had visited there in 2017, I still
learned a lot. Finally, at 10:30 the bus ferried us back to the hotel.
The next day we trekked 8 miles to the mall to see the
new Eisenhower outdoor exhibit and check out the Museum of the American Indian,
where we spent more than hour reading about treaties. Not a happy story. We
then took a Metro to a stop near Lincoln Park so we could see the Bethune and
Abe statues facing each other. On the walk back we discovered a Robert Taft
memorial/carillon and the Japanese American Memorial nearby. Long day that
ended with take-home Chinese, but the weather couldn’t have been better.
Dave’s Comments: I
love Washington D.C. So much going on and so many things to do. I think I could
be happy living there.
Day 33 – Manassas, Virginia We’ve
driven by Manassas National Battlefield Park before without stopping, but – now
that I’m focused on getting to 300 – I wasn’t going to pass it up on this trip.
As the first skirmish between the two “green” troops, we learned that Lincoln
had actually prodded his military leaders into this battle, since the
three-month conscription for most of the early militia soldiers was getting
ready to run out in a few days, and he wanted them to taste action. It didn’t
turn out well for either side. More than 5,000 casualties were tallied, the
most one-day losses ever in the nation’s young history. According to our young (and rusty) volunteer
guide, the heat and lack of wind added to the confusion, as the confusing
battle flags, disparate uniforms, and smoke from weapons led to a lot of
“friendly fire” casualties. Also, the story – which I had also read – that DC
residents picnicked nearby to watch what they thought would be the only battle
of the war was partially true. According to the volunteer, they were several
miles away and could only hear the cannon fire or see the smoke in the
distance. Only when they saw the battered and retreating Union troops on retreating
same road to Centreville did they realize the weight of the losses. I’m sure it
lost its entertainment value after that. After we checked in at the HIE right
on the border of the park, Dave took a jog back through the park and picked up
a lot more interp, before walking across the street to pick up our evening meal
at the Cracker Barrel.
Dave’s Comments: I
would be remiss if I didn’t give a shout out to the long-term parking at Dulles
International Airport. This is the second time we’ve used Dulles to store our
vehicle while visiting D.C., safely and economically. And it’s getting better,
with improvements to the parking garages and the extension of the Metro rail
line nearly complete (we used a shuttle to get from the airport to the
nearest Metro
station). Plus, the Dulles toll road is now complete and that makes the drive into
the airport a breeze. Also, given her new-found focus on checking off NPS sites,
I’m surprised Betsy didn’t mention our stop at the Wolf Trap National Park for
the Performing Arts, where we made a brief detour in route from Dulles to
Manassas. Obviously, we couldn’t attend a show, but we got a good look at the
facility and picnicked on the park-like grounds around the theater. The
Manassas HIE is old and dated, but the location was fantastic, with a Cracker
Barrel directly across the street and the national park just a short jog away.
As Betsy mentioned, I jogged through the park with frequent stops at various
interpretive panels. As I’ve previously noted, the battlefield parks are not my
favorite NPS sites, but they often have well-tended open spaces and quiet roads
and pathways that are great for a jog. The Manassas Battlefield was no
exception. The more famous military and battlefield parks, like Vicksburg and
Gettysburg, were magnets in the late 19th and early 20th
centuries for memorial markers commemorating the soldiers that fought and died
there. These markers are typically made of stone and often look a lot like those
you might see in a cemetery, or maybe on a courthouse lawn. Southern states
erected monuments to the confederate soldiers and northern states to the U.S.
soldiers. For some reason, Manassas doesn’t have too many of these monuments
but, as I was jogging along, a relatively small, pink granite marker caught my
eye and I stopped to read it. It turned out to have been provided by the state
of Texas, so I took a keener interest. The inscription on the marker reads, in
part: “Texas remembers the valor and devotion of her soldiers who participated
in the battle of Second Manassas…”, and it goes on to describe the battle in
some detail. It’s the kind of adulation and warm embrace of the cause of the
confederacy that you might expect from a southern state in the 19th
or early 20th century. So, I was a bit taken aback when I got to the
final words chiseled into the stone; “Erected by the State of Texas – 2012”.
Think about that for a minute. Just ten years ago the
powers that be in Texas state government thought it was appropriate to spend
our tax dollars commemorating and, in effect, glorifying soldiers from Texas that
fought and killed United States soldiers, on a battlefield in Virginia, for the
“cause” of seceding from the Union and forming a separate country based on the
institution of slavery.
The Texas Declaration of Secession that was drafted by
a convention of delegates and ratified by a popular vote of the people (white,
male people, of course) in February 1861 read in part:
“We hold as undeniable truths that the governments of
the various States, and of the confederacy itself, were established exclusively
by the white race, for themselves and their posterity; that the African race
had no agency in their establishment; that they were rightfully held and
regarded as an inferior and dependent race, and in that condition only could
their existence in this country be rendered beneficial or tolerable.
That in this free government all white men are and of
right ought to be entitled to equal civil and political rights; that the
servitude of the African race, as existing in these States, is mutually
beneficial to both bond and free, and is abundantly authorized and justified by
the experience of mankind, and the revealed will of the Almighty Creator, as
recognized by all Christian nations; while the destruction of the existing
relations between the two races, as advocated by our sectional enemies, would
bring inevitable calamities upon both and desolation upon the fifteen
slave-holding States.”
That’s the cause these soldiers from Texas fought and
died for at Manassas, Virginia in the summer of 1862. To see them, and their
cause, so warmly remembered by Texas officials, not in the fog of the 20th
century Jim Crow era, but in in the supposed enlightened clarity of the 21st
century, was shocking. But then, after a bit of reflection, it wasn’t all that
surprising.
Day 34 – Smithfield, North Carolina.
The day before we had stayed on the north side of I-66, where the tranquil battlefield
is located. But when we crossed the road, we realized we were just across the
highway from massive suburban sprawl. It was another reminder that much of the
value of these parks is not only preserving these important and historic
natural places for future generations, but also preserving open space in a
dense urban area. That morning we
crossed 5,000 miles on the trip, 298 sites for me, and 321 for Dave. After a
few miles we ventured out of the sprawl through another huge national park
space at Prince William Forest Park. The visitor center was closed but we drove
part of the park road, while learning that, like Catoctin, PWFP was also a
CCC/WPA creation in the 30s (called an NDA or “National Development Area). Prince
William Forest Park abuts Quantico, and it was appropriated during WWII for
wartime training of OSS spies, the precursor to the CIA.
Our next NPS stop was at a sad, dated, understaffed
and non-air-conditioned visitor center at Petersburg National Battlefield. It
was manned by a Ft. Lee IT department retiree who had been volunteering there
since 2012. He was very detailed in his description of the park locations and
road pullouts. Since it marked the sites involved in a year-long siege, it was
pretty spread out. Dave and I were most interested in the “crater” location
where Union soldiers from Pennsylvania used their mining skills to dig a
sophisticated 500-foot-long tunnel beneath enemy lines. There’s a lot more to
the story, including why the initial success turned into bloody defeat for the
Union and the role of the African American troops who took the brunt of the
violence in the debacle that followed the blast, essentially extending the
siege. The rest of the park road was pretty, and we took advantage of a picnic
area to finish our Cracker Barrel fried chicken.
We then drove 15 minutes past Ft. Lee and into the
depressed town of Hopewell to City Point, where Grant spent the last year of
the war leading the siege and the Union campaign. It featured a few structures
at the confluence of the James and Appomattox Rivers, but all were closed
(including the parking lot) because of staffing issues post-Covid. Dominating
the parcel was the mansion of Epps, who owned four plantations all in sight of
the point. Since he owned 150 slaves, it was an ironic location, and his business
was obviously affected by Grant’s success from that location. Grant
headquartered in a small cabin, which had been removed to Philadelphia for
years before the NPS returned it to its original plot in 1981. Dave made the
interesting connection between Grant, who was renowned for his logistical
skills, and Ft. Lee, which is the logistical center for all branches of the
U.S. military. It was a sad but meaningful visit.
Dave’s Comments:
Historians can argue – and many do – about the most important battle or turning
point in the Civil War. But few would dispute that the 292-day siege at
Petersburg – and the presidential election that took place smack in the middle
of that siege – is one of the leading candidates. It’s sad then to see the
neglect and disrepair – perhaps bordering on the edge of disrespect – that has
overtaken this national park unit. It was also interesting to contrast the
crowds we’d seen a few days earlier at the gleaming new visitor center at
Gettysburg with the decrepit, un-air-conditioned visitor center at Petersburg that
we had all to ourselves. As Betsy notes I have great admiration for the
logistical abilities of Grant and the Union army to move men and supplies. The
massive supply depot and distribution system that Grant established at City
Point is, perhaps, the most impressive feat of all. Thus, on the one hand, it
is a wonderful symmetry that Fort Lee (which is adjacent to the battlefield
park) is now the headquarters of the Arms Support Command and hosts the Army’s
Quartermaster School, Transportation School, Logistics University, Defense
Contract Management Agency and Defense Commissary Agency. On the other hand, it
is beyond appalling that the base was named for Robert E. Lee when it should have
been named for Grant. Fortunately, the name is in the process of being changed
to Fort Gregg-Adams, named after Lieutenant General Arthur J. Gregg and
Lieutenant Colonel Charity Adams Earley. Gregg enlisted as a
private and became one of the Army’s preeminent logistics leaders of the 20th
century during his 35-year career. Earley was the first African American
officer in the Women's Army Auxiliary Corps (WACS) and was the commanding
officer of the first battalion of African American women to serve overseas
during World War II.
Day 35 – North Augusta, South Carolina.
I’ve wondered about Congaree National Park since 2017, when I constantly
re-stocked its dark green brochures while we were volunteering at Moore’s Creek
National Battlefield in North Carolina. After our visit, I’m still not clear on
why it merits the same status as the other 61 national parks. Although it was
WAY off the beaten path on a windy rural road slog, and the visitor center was
closed, it was still a nice break. A Ranger was positioned in the breezeway and
was passionately trying to discourage two women (who were liberally applying
bug repellent) from venturing out. I assumed they were headed for a walk beyond
the 2 ½-mile boardwalk, but the ranger said her warnings included that pedestrian
walk since any hint of wind could cause fallen trees and put us in danger. I
glanced up at the gathering clouds, but also noted our weather app showed no
chance of rain so we decided to forge on - after I got my Passport stamp of
course. We packed our bottle of Off and headed out with a printed interp guide.
It was a fun informative walk through what was called Congaree Swamp National
Monument before 2003. It’s an apt title for the murky, dark old-growth forest
of Bald Cypress knees and swoller-trunk Tupelos. We also spotted a heron whose
white feathers stood out from the darkness, as well as two pileated woodpeckers
and lots of turtles in a horseshoe lake that used to be a bend in the Congaree
River. So, thanks to the hunters, fishers, and environmentalists who responded
to increased logging in the 50s and 60s to protect this area. We ended the day
at a North Augusta HIE.
Dave’s Comments:
Sometimes, when we make relatively brief stops at parks like this, I’ll wish we
could stay longer, or vow to return someday for a longer visit. Congaree is not
one of those.
Day 36 – Smyrna, Georgia. Kennesaw
Mountain National Battlefield Park near Atlanta was my 300th
national park. It was cool to get #300 on my NPS list (#323 for Dave) but I was
glad we were almost done with Civil War sites. There are only so many dead
bodies you can view in pictures and videos, especially considering the whole
depressing purpose behind the war. It doesn’t help that we visited a bunch in one
week, and the tone when in the South is becoming harder to stomach. Kennesaw
Mountain was an odd fight, ostensibly the Rebels had multiple victories before
inexplicably retreating back toward Atlanta, setting the stage for the Union
takeover of the town and Sherman’s destructive “march to the sea.” I’m glad we
didn’t visit the nearby “Gone with the Wind” museum, highlighting a movie that
seems to get more tone-deaf by the decade. Kennesaw seemed less an historical
park and more of a hiking getaway for locals in another very busy suburban
setting, although the picnic area was dark with two pretty creepy men situated
at different tables. On our way to our HIE we stopped at a parking area for
Chattahoochee River National Recreation Area. It was a wonderful vertical park
that preserved the area around this lovely river as it wound its way through
Atlanta. There was a shuttle to the new Braves ballpark, but when it didn’t
show up, we made the less than one mile walk to the beautiful new stadium.
Unlike most that are buffeted by huge parking areas, this stadium is nestled in
a business area that offered interesting reuse after workers went home for the
day. It’s a different formula, and I wonder how its affected when there’s a day
game, and if the increase in work from home didn’t already address that
potential issue. We really liked the park. I got seats in the front row of an
upper deck section, and we had a great view of the 3-1 victory over the
Pirates, which turned out to be #7 of what would be a 14-game win streak for
the Braves. I also loved the organ, a
sound you hear less and less these days. Although it was dark on the way home,
there were plenty of other fans around us on the walk back.
Dave’s Comments: My
low expectations for Truist Park (the new home of the Atlanta Braves) were
greatly exceeded. This is great ballpark, easily among the top five in the
majors in my book. The Braves site on MLB.com describes it as; “…the perfect
marriage of classic ballpark feel, modern amenities and southern hospitality…
(in an) intimate setting of 41,000 seats… (that are) designed to maximize
sightlines, making every seat feel like the "best in the house".” I
agree with that assessment. It’s way out in the suburbs, in a different county
than Atlanta, in a dense, multi-use commercial area but the area around the
stadium is hopping with bars and restaurants and lots of people there for more
than the baseball game. And it was an easy walk over there from the HIE. The
Texas Rangers tried to do something similar with their new ballpark in Arlington,
and it’s nice. But not nearly as nice at Truist Park.
Day 37 – Birmingham, Alabama.
We had adjusted our schedule to make tracks for home but thought stops at some
Civil Rights (not Civil War) sites and a Barons game were in order. The first
stop was in the tiny town of Anniston, west of Atlanta, where more recent
tragedies signaled that the Union “victory” was still incomplete. Dave discovered
two new units in the NPS system: the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute and a
multi-site Freedom Riders National Monument were recently added, but their
transition is far from complete. That didn’t make the interpretive panels aside
a mural at the Greyhound bus station in Anniston any less powerful or tragic. I
learned that the “Freedom Riders” movement - like many of the era – wasn’t
capricious but instead a very organized and deliberate effort. The passengers
on the ill-fated bus in 1961 weren’t random; they had been recruited and
trained in peaceful protest techniques, which still didn’t fend off the
beatings and vitriol they faced when the bus pulled in on the way to Birmingham.
The driver refused to re-board, so another was found, but he didn’t realized
the angry white protesters had slashed the vehicle’s tires. While being chased
by the mob, the bus broke down six miles outside of town, and the passengers
barely got off before it was firebombed. Curiously nobody knows what happened
to the burned-out shell, but it was captured in a photo, and the front was
recreated in the museum in Birmingham. The mob and law enforcement refused to
treat the injured riders, so pastor Fred Shuttlesworth came in from Birmingham
to take them back to the hospital there.
In Birmingham, we noticed the Institute was next door
to the 16th Street Baptist Church, the tragic site of a 1963 bombing that
killed four Black girls. We realized it wasn’t on the same ticket, so hurried
over to get in on a tour led by church members. It was very structured and had
two videos – one somewhat random and the other very powerful. I was glad we got
a photo of the gift from Wales of all places in the sanctuary: a stained glass
depiction of a Black Jesus with one hand pushing away and the other outstretched
in welcome. It seemed a maudlin example of the tension Black Americans must
face every day, to ward off hate and accept God’s love.
The Institute was a very well-done museum that painted
a vivid picture of life for African Americans before the modern civil rights
movement really made progress. Still, it showed the systemic stench of racism
continues even a century after the Civil War. Depressing. But the message in both
places was surprisingly hopeful.
We walked to the Barons ballpark to watch a sloppy 9-8
loss to the Pensacola Blue Wahoos, who barely hung onto their early 9-0 lead.
It was Friday night fireworks, so we celebrated Tex’s 33rd birthday watching
them on our short walk back to the Home2Suites.
Dave’s Comments:
Betsy forgot to mention that it was also Gay Pride Night at the baseball game.
In Birmingham, Alabama? Suffice to say, it was not a huge crowd. The fireworks,
however, were incredible. One of the best displays I can recall and made even
more so by a very dark night and the echo from the surrounding buildings. The
city is clearly making a concerted attempt to create a safe and vibrant
downtown area with the new minor league baseball park playing a role in that
effort. They’ve clearly made some progress, and clearly have a long way to go.
Day 38 – Natchez, Mississippi.
Another new NPS site was on our way west. The Medgar and Merlie Evers Home in
Jackson just has a plaque now but is in NPS hands and there are plans to make
it into something more robust, although we struggle to see how they will do
that in the middle of a modest residential neighborhood. It was sobering to
view the driveway where he was gunned down one night returning home from a
civil rights organizing meeting. I needed a break from the somber visits, so
the trip to the Jackson Costco and an ice cream cup fit the bill on that hot
day! Dave got us on the Natchez Trace, and I got to drive the 100 gorgeous and
almost stress-free miles to Natchez, a town neither of us had visited before.
We found a place for fried catfish, shrimp, okra and a fabulous biscuit at
Biscuits and Blues. But the historic downtown was pretty quiet at 7 on a
Saturday night. We did venture by a sign noting the “Natchez Burning” tragedy
of 1940, where flammable indoor decorations and doors that were locked to keep
out interlopers contributed to an all-consuming fire that killed more than 200
mostly Black nightclub patrons. They were enjoying a Chicago band, and a group
from that city donated the plaque in honor of the victims. We continued to the
bottom of the hill and found a big river. We got there in time to watch a
gorgeous sunset over the Mississippi.
Dave’s Comments: I’ve
seen and crossed the Mississippi River many times over the years, but it still
comes as a bit of shock when you see how wide it is, especially this far south.
Day 39 – Longview, Texas.
Almost home. But before we set out to cross Louisiana into Texas we still had
some sight-seeing to do in Natchez. The first stop was at the still evolving
NPS visitor center, which was just across the street from the HIE but we still had
trouble finding it. There was no brown arrowhead on the building, so I had to
ask Dave to trust me that the NPS app was leading me to the Natchez tourist VC.
Sure enough there was a museum staffed by both city folk and a park ranger, and
we had a great chat with her while figuring out what to see in Natchez. The NPS
has had a few homes in town, but the central center is still being developed. The
park ranger was a Wisconsin native (and student at Northland College in
Ashland, near our Apostle Islands summer home) and a public history major who
had some insightful comments about the interpretation in the building.
Specifically, although the NPS was taking over eventually, the local Friends
group had created displays about the Forks in the Road slave market, using
quotation marks around words like “slave” and “trading.” We both did
double-takes when we saw it, and she said it reflected some of the tense relationship
that locals have with the town’s history. The rest of the (NPS) interp was very
good, and more to our tastes. It was the ranger’s last week in Natchez before
leaving for the George Rogers site in Ohio, so I think that’s why she was
blunter than normal. I think after three years she was ready to move on. On a
side note, I learned her masters was in “historiography,” which is the study
and comparison of history books to see what was captured correctly and what is
contradictory. I think I would love that job!
On the way out of town we did stop by the odd
confluence at the “Forks of the Road.” Signs adorned a weedy patch where the
slave auction house had been moved in 1832 (barely) outside the town, after
slaves were blamed for a cholera outbreak. One story that made me feel better
was that after Vicksburg in 1863, the market closed and Union Colored Troops
built a post north of Natchez, using the materials from this closed-down site.
Vindication?
Our final stop 64 miles north was another one at a
tired NPS visitor center at the site of the historic Union victory at
Vicksburg, completed a day after Gettysburg and leading to Grant’s promotion
over all Union troops. I’m not sure why, but I guess I expected more than an
underwhelming facility and outdated film. We were both curious about the canal
Grant’s troops unsuccessfully dug to try to get around the entrenched
Confederate troops, and I took a photo of a “map” that showed where it was on
the Louisiana side. But Google got us off course, and when we got back on track
(no pun intended) we were hampered by a slow-moving train that we were afraid
to get stuck behind. So, we abandoned our effort probably just a few hundred
yards from whatever marked the site. I guess we failed just like they did. Our
last night on the trip – and last Cracker Barrel meal – was the cheapest on our
journey. It was hot, but great to be back in Texas.
Dave’s Comments:
The Texas visitor center on I-20 is just across the state line and when we
pulled in, I felt a noticeable sense of relief and calm. We still had 350 miles
of driving to get to San Antonio, but it felt like we were already home.
