Doorknobs and Yankees

On my first official day in Charleston, I set out with the intention of exploring each and every corner of the city. The previous day in Wilmington had been rather lax and I was looking forward to being adventurous once again. However, given my very very poor sense of direction, I reasoned that a carriage ride through the historic district might be a good way to get my bearings before setting out on my own two feet. Therefore, I purchased a ticket and very quickly found myself sitting behind a fine pair of mules named Yahoo and Sissy. The tour guide was an attractive young man (a red-head!) named Derrick. He grew up in the area and, I believe, is now studying history there. His first task was to ask each group on the carriage where they were from and gather a few other pieces of information about them. My carriage contained a family of nine from Georgia, a family of five from Tennessee, and then me - the lone Yankee. Fortunately, nothing was thrown at me, but the tour proved to be very interesting given my Northern perspective. While several comments were provoking, the one phrase that stuck with me was when the guide, alluding the to the Civil War, commented, "Well, we'll lick 'em in the second half!" Now, please indulge me, and consider that comment for a moment, as I did. My first reaction was, "Whoa whoa whoa...you actually expect there to be a second half? Then, I thought, "Really? You still haven't gotten over that?, and finally, "Excuse me buddy, but don't you know what the war was about? Why would you want to win a war over slavery?!" I was appalled and fascinated all at the same time, and couldn't help but wonder, "Do people really live with this mentality? Could I live surrounded by mentality?"

If you know me at all, you know that I am soooooo NOT a city person. While I enjoy the occasional visit to New York or foray into Boston, I have no intention of actually living in either place. I like to roll out of my front steps and see green, inhale clean air, have some room to myself. Therefore, I was surprised, when in spite of Derrick's remarks and my natural predilection for suburban life , I found myself captivated by the city of Charleston. I actually thought, "I could live here!"

Charleston happens to be the second most well-preserved historical region in the world, preceded only by Rome, Italy. There are very stringent building regulations that are enforced by the Board of Architectural Review (BAR). Some of their policies include: 1. No building over seventy-five years old can be destroyed. 2. No building can exceed, in height, that of the tallest church steeple. 3. If you want to re-paint your house, the BAR will come to your house and paint six color swatches. You may only choose from the palette provided for you. Generally speaking, the BAR is so meticulous that if you were to change a doorknob, they must approve of the replacement first. WOWzer! While this might seem anal, these rules have functioned, in my opinion, to maintain a well-groomed, cohesive, and quaint city that neither feels overwhelming (thanks to the lack of sky-high buildings) or dirty (thanks to the care and attention given to its history). So, here's my dilemma...

Physically, Charleston is beautiful. The people are polite. The food is good; the pace of life, relaxing. There are beaches and boats nearby. When it's not August, the weather is gorgeous. On the flip-side though, most of the people here have never left the state of South Carolina. Despite the large black population, Charleston's inhabitants are still segregated. The population is one of the worst educated in the United States, and every afternoon, out of the bright blue sky, a torrential downpour hits you for about 30 minutes. There's good, and there's bad, and I'm not quite sure which one will win.

Some things never change...

Dear Readers (particularly worried family members),

I am alive! I apologize for not getting on my game and writing an entry last night. My only excuse is that when I finally had a free moment, I was dead tired and it was way past my bedtime. I like to take my time when composing these messages, and starting to blog at 11:45pm was simply not happening. Part of the reason I was so tired was because yesterday was all about one of my guilty pleasures - TEENAGE DRAMA. No, I'm not referring to the kind that happens in school hallways, but the television genre!

Yesterday, I spent the day in Wilmington, North Carolina a.k.a Hollywood East. Screen Gem Studios is located there and a number of films and televisions shows have used Wilmington as the backdrop for their stories, including but not limited to: Blue Velvet, Matlock, Firestarter, and Empire Records. However, what really puts Wilmington on the map is because it was/is the location of two of my teenage favs - Dawson's Creek and One Tree Hill! So, after starting my day right - eating a hearty breakfast*, I headed out to traipse about the streets of Wilmington and nearby Wrightsville Beach to find myself familiar spots from television history. I did stumble upon quite a few places, which I will use as bragging material for my sisters when I return home to Fairfield. (I know; I'm mature.) While I had a fabulous time re-living my years as a teenager, the real highlight of my day came later, after arriving in Charleston, South Carolina.

Hopefully, as you can tell from my writing, I have been enjoying my journey immensely. However, after five days of solo travel, I was getting a little tired of being alone, which is where another significant character from my teenage years comes in - my dear friend, Colin! For those of you who don't know, Colin and I have known each other since we were freshmen in high school, which we calculated yesterday to mean we've been friends for almost 10 years! We've seen each other through a great deal. On my way to his place, I wondered what it would be like to see him again. Because he lives down south, we don't get to see each other a whole lot and we're not great about calling on a frequent basis. However, as my title would indicate, it's nice to know "some things never change". We didn't do anything fancy, just dinner and TV, but we spent five hours talking and joking around, which came just as naturally as it had when we were younger. There's something about being with a friend whose known you since way back when that always puts a smile on your face. =)

*If you're ever in Wrightsville Beach, you need to stop at The Sweet and Savory Bakeshop and Cafe. Their French Toast is divine.

Retirement

I wanted to make a few additional comments before I headed out for the day. Yesterday, not only did I visit Appomattox, but I spent a few hours in Chapel Hill, North Carolina on my way to my current location, Wilmington. For the past several years, my parents have been discussing - with their children's frequent input - the location of their retirement home. My father has named several states due to their appealing tax laws. (Weird, but I love you, Dad.) On the other hand, I believe my mother has a couple of more specific requirements. One, the place cannot be as hot as Puerto Rico; and two, she wants to be close to her children (and presumably the grandchildren that are to come). My siblings and I have listened to their thoughts, but have committed ourselves to the state of North Carolina. This is most likely because, as young'uns, Rachel, Jamie and I (...I don't think Amy was alive or at least walking) vacationed in the Outer Banks for several summers. We hold these islands in high regard, and somehow have extended that sentiment to the entire state. Logical, right?

Well, Mom and Dad, I want to say that after seeing Chapel Hill, I'm still all for NC! Here are my reasons:

1. The weather wasn't bad. It was hot, but bearable.

2. UNC - Chapel Hill is lovely. I would go there over UVA (maybe for grad. school) after seeing both campuses. Loved the buildings.

3. The sandwich shop that I visited, "Sandwhich" (Shout-out #2: Hi Dan!!), was delicious and located on the very cute and charming Franklin Street. Very good for shopping or just taking a walk.

4. Finally, and I believe this makes any college more appealing, I must say that UNC has done a fantastic job of integrating itself into the surrounding area. There isn't a jarring line that cuts off campus life from the busy world outside. Instead, there is a gentle and gradual transition that I found very appealing.

I think I'm in love...(Part 2)

No, no, no...I am not talking about Thomas Jefferson anymore. I promise! Although...did I mention that macaroni and cheese happens to be one of my favorite foods? Which, of course, further proves the theory I developed yesterday - TJ and I are destined to date each other in another life!!! OK, now I promise I am officially done specifically talking about Thomas Jefferson. I would like to, however, talk about a population that he was a part of - the men of the 19th century.

Today, I visited Appomattox Courthouse. For those of you who, like my students, assume that I am referring to one building...you are wrong! Appomattox Courthouse is actually the name of the town in which Appomattox Courthouse, the building, is located. This little town was the site of Lee's surrender to Grant, putting an end to the American Civil War in April of 1865. While many of the town's buildings are no longer with us, the buildings that have survived and those that have been reconstructed provide a definite sense of what it would've been like to live there.

Because I cannot show you my pictures, I will do my best to re-create what I saw with words. Set back from the road, up a slight incline, sits the town of Appomattox Courthouse. The brick facades of the houses are set off nicely by clean, white, wood trim and the surrounding, lush, green lawns, dotted by tall, gangly trees. Reddish-brown dirt pathways and white picket fences weave about the buildings giving the scattered dwellings a sense of order and unity. Although very small, I would imagine that living in Appomattox Courthouse would have afforded a person the luxury of a peaceful, happy and fulfilling existence. I, in fact, found myself wishing that I lived there!

Anyways, back to my point. The site is specifically designed to teach visitors about what happened in the days leading up to Lee's surrender, the actual surrender, and then its immediate impact. Although Lee and Grant are robust historical figures and the definite protagonists to the story, I couldn't help but feel attached to the ordinary men of the Union and Confederate armies.

One of the plaques told the story of a soldier from Alabama who enlisted three days after the attack on Fort Sumter (the very beginning of the war). He managed to survived 1,454 days of war. While this number alone is significant, we should remember that the Civil War was the bloodiest war in American History. Therefore, this man's ability to survive all of that time is that much more amazing. The plaque then tells visitors that in the final rounds of gunfire, in the last twenty-four hours at Appomattox Courthouse, this man was killed. The kicker, though, was that in spite of deaths like these, in spite of four years of struggle, confusion, and a heated commitment to a cause (whether it be Yankee or Rebel), when things were all said and done, these men respected one another.

As Lee and Grant were inside the McLean house, signing the terms of the surrender, their men sat outside, Yankee facing Johnny Reb, and they waited. They didn't fire guns. They didn't fight or make one last ditch effort to sucker punch the enemy. They stood there in silence, and when Lee and his men passed by to hand in their weapons - the ultimate and final show of defeat - Unions soldiers, led by General Joshua Chamberlain, turned and saluted these men. Their former enemies, then, did the same in return.

If I had the chance to travel back in time, I have always said that I would visit the Civil War era. This is largely because I am enamored with the book and movie, "Gone with the Wind", and want to see what it would be like to wear a hoop-skirt (shhh, our little secret!), but it also has to do with the behavior presented in the story above. The war that happened from 1861 to 1865 is called the Civil War because it happened between the states of one nation. However, I would argue that the word, civil, is also significant for its other definition - "the act of showing regard for others". At the end of the day, only hours after firing canons at one another, these men recognized the humanity within one another and consequently the connections that bound them together. That may not be hot, but it sure melts my heart.

(Picture: The McLean house. Lee signed the official surrender papers here.)

I think I'm in love..

If you've been reading along, you'll recall that yesterday I visited Mt. Vernon - the home of our first president. Well, today, I visited the home of our third president - Thomas Jefferson. Very much like Washington's estate, Monticello (TJ's abode) was vast and impressive. Monticello sits atop a mountain, consequently overlooking breathtaking views from all angles of the house. The rooms are numerous; the decoration, opulent. In fact, so extravagant that...drum roll please..............

The walls of Thomas Jefferson's dining room are macaroni and cheese yellow! WHAT?!?! You may be saying to yourself, "That does not sound very fancy", and you would be right. (It was honestly kinda ugly.) So, why was this color on the walls? Well, during the late 18th and early 19th centuries, bright paint colors acted as a sign of wealth! Hmmmm. The brighter the paint color, the more pigment was used, and therefore, the more expensive it was to make. For you math geeks out there, while a bucket of white paint may have cost 15 cents, Jefferson's yummy yellow would have cost you a whopping $5.00!!! Crazy business! Despite the horrifically bright walls, something about Monticello, and in turn its owner, grabbed a hold of me and would not let go.

I began falling love (surprise surprise!) in Thomas Jefferson's library. I walked into that room and thought I'd gone to heaven. Each wall was covered by stacks of bookshelves, filled with small books, big books, thick books, skinny books, books written in English, written in French, and many more languages that I cannot understand. Basically, the man loved books! Actually, I should correct myself. He did not simply love them; he was OBSESSED! The very bookshelves that lined the walls were made specifically so that Jefferson could remove them at any point in time to take them as traveling shelves in his carriage when he had to go on a journey. God-forbid he leave his reading material behind! *Sigh* A man after my own heart. As I followed our guide through the rest of the house, it became more and more clear that this man truly thought about and gave attention to all aspects of his life. Think about it...

You are Thomas Jefferson. You've read and studied Roman architecture. You've taught yourself how to create architectural drawings. You've outlined, to the 1/100,000 digit, every measurement of every room and its every detail. You've overseen construction. You've watched it be completed, and you're still not done, because you never let yourself be finished. You always strive for something more, some other way to contribute. Come on ladies...that's just plain sexy. If you still don't believe me, go look at pictures of Monticello - it's gorgeous! So gorgeous, in fact, that I broke my spending limit today and put down $40 on a book so I could look at the building even after I'd left the property! There is no doubt the man had vision. Ok, ok, I know he owned slaves and did not want to see the institution leave Virginia. Dumb. Completely inexcusable! We would have had big issues had we dated back in the day, but damnnnnnn....a passionately dedicated dork who did big things. Now, that's hot.

Harriet??

Good morning! Nothing exciting has happened today, but I wanted to share another story from yesterday. For those of you who don't know, I recently purchased a new car! Hurray! Thus, dear Bertha, my sweet, aging minivan went back to live at my parents house. If you don't know Bertha, you are missing out. She is pretty much the seventh member of my family and the day she leaves us will be quite sad. However, Bertha was not always Bertha. In high school, after countless nights of driving around town in the minivan, my crazy friends officially named her and this is how she has been referred to since.

Now, having a new vehicle, people (namely my father) have been asking me, "What's her name? Have you named her yet?! Maybe it could be this...or this..." Well, I have not. In fact, I have been avoiding giving her name, as I truly believe the name will come to the car (if that makes any sense), which brings me to yesterday. I was driving along and...BOOM!!! It came to me - HARRIET. I'm laughing as I type that because the name seems a little ridiculous, but if you've seen my car it's a small, dark gray, SUV. I like to think of it as sophisticated, under-stated, reliable and cute. In many ways, I feel the name Harriet embodies all of those characteristics. Then again, the name Harriet (if you have friends like mine...cough cough MACK) leads to nicknames like Harry, and that definitely does not seem appropriate for my new car. Thoughts? Opinions? Back to the drawing-board?

P.P.S.

"Time-to-go-home" traffic and toll booths are officially the bane of my existence, and the invention of the GPS was a god-send.

Picnics and Presidents

I realized as I was driving today that I failed to mention WHY I am on a two-week road trip this summer. Yes, of course, a road-trip is always fun and an adventure, but I'm also on this journey thanks to work. My employer, the lovely Fay School, has encouraged me to take the trip as an enriching life experience and given me the means with which to do so. Yay!

So, here I am, done with day two. Today, my first stop was in Manassas, Virginia. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the town of Manassas, it is the place where the First Battle of Bull Run (1861) and the Second Battle of Bull Run (1862) occurred during the Civil War. I wanted to visit the battleground largely because the First Battle of Bull Run is considered the first true battle of the war. Some silly people got it into their heads in 1861 that the Civil War was not going to be such a big deal (!?!?!?!), and they decided to bring picnic lunches to watch Union troops meet the Confederate soldiers. This moment in history also happens to be captured in my favorite Civil War mini-series, North and South. Yes, it is highly romanticized and probably highly historically-inaccurate, but my teenage self fell in love with Patrick Swayze as a young Confederate soldier. So, of course, I had to see the place in person.

I walked the hills of the battlefield, almost going in reverse of how the actual battle played out. I started where Thomas Jackson earned his nickname, Stonewall, by stopping the Union advance over Henry's Hill to win the battle and traversed the fields to Matthew's Hill where earlier that fateful day Union troops had been able to push back the Rebel forces, causing all those who witnessed their efforts to predict a Northern victory - wrong! The part of this site that stuck with me throughout the morning was its sheer massiveness - the enormous space it covered, the number of men that fought there, the casualties. This is not to say that I expected a measly, little field, but there was something about the place that just kept hitting me over the head. Thinking about it now, I guess it makes sense. This is the place where everyone in the United States realized, "Oh my goodness, this is really a war". Weird.

My second stop of the day was at a much prettier and more lively site - Mount Vernon, George Washington's home away from his hectic life as military man, politician and president. The grounds were amazing and extensive. There was a smoke house, a salt house, a spinning room, an overseer's cabin, slave quarters, and an exotic garden, to name a few. I can very clearly see why George preferred being there as opposed to New York or Philadelphia (the first two capitals). While most might say that the main attraction of the home was the actual mansion (which was impressive...I got to touch the actual bannister GW himself used to climb the stairs!), I would say that I most enjoyed visiting the two tomb sites - the first being that of George and Martha Washington and the second being that of their slaves and servants. I'm not sure why, but there was something very beautiful about both. Upon leaving the house, I can say that I definitely had a deeper appreciation for the task set before GW as president and the challenges he must have faced. When I finished at Mount Vernon, I drove down the road to make a quick stop at Frank Lloyd Wright's Pope-Leighy House.

In college, I briefly considered majoring in Art History, solely due to my fascination with the architecture presented to me in Art History 102. Although that plan didn't pan out, I still enjoy admiring the variety of shape and decoration used to create a building. The first word that came to mind when seeing this home was "simple". However, I feel as if Frank would be angry with me for saying that, so I will say that the word "simple" doesn't do it justice. Functional and straightforward probably work better. Unfortunately, by this point in the day, I was tired and ready to get to my next hotel, so I didn't spend too much time there. Now, I'm tired and in bed. So, more tomorrow...'night folks!

P.S. I want to give my first official blog shout-out - hey Mrs. Gibbons!!! If you (and this invitation is for others as well) want me to pick up anything along the way, please tell Kelly to shoot me an e-mail!

(Picture: Statue of Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson.)

On the road!

Hello all! I am so excited to be writing, and I hope that I figure out how to post my messages without messing anything up over the next couple of weeks. Please bear with me.

I left from my parents' home in Connecticut this morning and headed to my first stop in Valley Forge, Pennsylvania - the home of George Washington and his troops during a long winter during the Revolutionary War. It was amazing! I visited Gettysburg a few weeks ago, on a separate trip. From my experience then and today, I must say that the National Park Service has done a fantastic job of maintaining America's historical parks. I walked Valley Forge for about two hours. I was able to visit the soldiers' huts, the artillery field lined with canons, the National Memorial Arch with a special monument dedicated to soldiers from Massachusetts (I hope to show pictures of that to my kids), and much more. My favorite moment, however, was after passing the soldiers' huts and coming upon a rise that overlooked a large, open field. The field was bare, except for the grass. But over two-hundred years ago, it was covered by snow and littered with tents and men waiting in the bitter cold to defend their freedom. The creation of that image in my head was striking and brought my feet to a halt. Even though I teach American history, I often go about my day either absorbed in the moment or, more often than not, already thinking far ahead into the future. I often forget to think about all of the people that came before me and the lives they lived. Today was a nice reminder to stop and appreciate that history. I hope to have more of those moments as the trip continues. It was quite sunny for most of the journey (I think I even got a little tan, yay!); the storm clouds broke just as I got into my car. Phew! Lastly, I wanted to say that I do have a camera with me. Unfortunately, however, I borrowed my little sister's (Thank you, Amy.) and did not think to bring the corresponding computer cable. Therefore, I will not be able to post any visuals until after I return. SAD. Well, that's all for tonight folks. See you in Manassas tomorrow! xox