What to do on a rainy day in Philly town

Rule #6 – A writer needs to honor traditions, for there are stories within.

     It was a dark and stormy night…

    

     Okay, so it wasn’t a night but it was a dark and stormy weekday. That made it the perfect time to visit Philadelphia’s Franklin Institute. We parked in the museum garage off of 21st St. We walked in and dodged a few school field trips making their way to the buses. We walked right up and got our tickets to go into the museum and see the Titanic exhibit. And we had 10 minutes before we moved on schedule through the Titanic Artifact exhibit which is at the Franklin Institute until April, 2013. Never have I moved through a public venue that quickly. Okay, once before.  I visited the Alamo in the pouring rain and we had that venue all to ourselves too. It really does pay to be a water-logged tourist.

RMS Titanic - photo from History.com

     My sister and I ventured up to the third floor, where he artifact exhibit begins. As we walked in, we were handed a boarding pass, with a name on it.  Our passes had our class of travel on it too, along with a bit of a back story about the person who we “were”. Then it was time to make our way to the dock, where the past became the present.

     The exhibit begins with the building of the Titanic in Belfast.  Wrenches and bolts used by Harlan and Wolff Shipbuilders are safely secured under glass. Pictures of the crews at work are on display in this section. A portrait of Thomas Andrews, Titanic’s designer, and Lord Pirrie, the president of Harlan and Wolff, are on display. Then we move from the dock, passed suitcases and trunks - some salvaged from the wreck – up the gangplank, as if we were boarding the vessel to the B deck of the ship.  We move into the ship at the point of the Grand Staircase.  This portion of the exhibit is recreated from the photographs and design drawings left behind. I stop for a moment on the portion of the steps open to visitors and imagine myself descending the stairs, meeting friends before we continue to D deck for dinner.

Recovered stair cherub - Photo from History.com

     The tour takes you down the B-deck corridor to the First Class rooms.  You see salvaged personal items – decanters, glasses, shaving gear, and currency – from the First Class cabins on display. You also see a recreation of a typical First Class cabin.  Everywhere, there are written descriptions of the activities of the passengers at this level of travel.  Life on board ship was quite luxurious.  Titanic boasted the latest of modern conveniences, such as electric lighting, private lavatories, and in-room heaters.  We learn, too, that an average First Class ticket cost around $2800 – in 1912 economic dollars. That is around $70,000 now.

Dishes were displayed as you see them here, in sand from the ocean's floor 

- Photo from History.com

     Next we move to Second Class. Again we get a glimpse into the life on board for Second Class passengers.  Stories line the walls about passengers and their travel plans.  We see recovered china and glassware from this area of the ship. We see a typical cabin from Second Class. Many more personal items – a business perfume sample, whiskey bottles – are on display here.  This seems to be the “business class” of 1912 – comfortable but not luxurious or ostentatious.

Recovered silverware - Photo from History.com

Salvaged pocket watches - Photo from History.com

     As we walk down the reconstructed corridor from Second Class, I have an eerie feeling.  We move to the Third Class, where the White Star Line made most of its money.  Third Class passengers board to escape persecution in their homelands.  Third Class passengers look for a better life in America.  Third class passengers are the “cash cow” for ship lines in the early 20^th century.  Their cabins are smaller, with bunk beds.  They are packed closer together in their quarters. But the cabins are clean and have running wash water on tap in the cabin! Such a luxury this is for the Third Class passengers! We see many personal passenger artifacts here, some that we’ve seen in James Cameron’s movie – eye glasses, waistcoats, currency. There is no denying, however, the knowledge that many of our grandparents and great-grandparents traveled to America in lodgings such as these. It makes one humble, it does.

     There is a ramp that brings the visitors from the third floor down to the second. On your trip down the ramp, you feel vibrations and hear the engine noises.  You are now heading into the heart of the ship – the engine room.  Many artifacts recovered from the stern section debris field are on display in this section along with their placement referenced in the pictures on the wall.  We move into the darkness, where many more personal artifacts are displayed.  Then there it is – the iceberg – or a replica of the typical iceberg. This is one that you can touch and get a tactile idea of the cold encountered by the passengers on that fateful night.

     Then you have a chance to see how the RMS Titanic, Inc. recovered the artifacts. There is a 3D representation of exploring the ship from the eyes of the robot rovers. And as you complete the visit, you see the list of passengers. They are broken up into survivors and deceased. It’s interesting to note that the amount of First Class passengers who survived seems equal to the amount of Third Class passengers who perished.  Here is a vivid reminder of the inequities built into the class system of travel.  Here it hits you how many lost their lives that night.  Here is a chance for a prayer to their memory.

     My sister and I have a chance to see if our “person’s survived.  As First Class women, we both know our chances are better than good. Sure enough, we both survived, as did everyone in our parties – even the men.

     The Franklin Institute is well worth the trip even without the special exhibit. We both got to play with all the other hands-on exhibits, since the museum was virtually empty.  There are interactive exhibits on weather, astronomy, and wellness. The Institute boasts of the only walk-through heart.  But the Titanic artifact exhibit is on that should not be missed.

     I was able to catch the artifact exhibit when it first toured the United States. That time, I saw it at the Maryland Science Center, in Baltimore. The premise was similar in that you “became” a passenger with a boarding pass, toured the decks and below decks, touched the iceberg and found out if you survived.

     This trip was different. It’s been 100 years since the great ship slipped beneath the Atlantic. It’s been 27 years since Robert Ballard and his team found her on the floor of the Atlantic. In that time period, many expeditions to the wreck site documented the damage. Much to Dr. Ballard’s chagrin, many more visited the site to recover artifacts, or some just to visit, at times creating more damage to the fragile ship. It truly is hallowed ground, a grave for many.

     Being close to the artifacts this time gave me an eerie feeling, just like my previous visit. These items belonged to people, with lives and families, histories and futures. Lives cut short by one fateful ticket. Yet, it made this visit even more precious. I felt the need to honor those whose lives were lost in some way. No one who visits the artifacts leaves without the experience affecting them in some fashion. My first visit sent me investigating everything written about the wreck. This visit had me reviewing much of the written investigations, including the strikes at the ship yard, and the politics behind the decisions made.

     The fascination with the history around Titanic will never stop. She tells a sad tale of arrogance, ignorance, cost cutting, fighting, foolishness and pride. It’s a tale told in other historical events, with just as great a loss of life. But this story resonates to this day. The politics of some of the decisions made add pathos to the story. And last year, her last survivor, Milvina Dean, passed away.

Milvina Dean, last survivor of the Titanic sinking - Photo from History.com

     We are still learning much from her, especially in the metallurgical area. She is responsible for a lot of the safety we now enjoy on cruise ships. Trans-Atlantic shipping is safer, thanks to many of the regulations that came about after she sank. She still talks to us from the deep. Her ghosts have much more to say to us. We just need to listen. And never forget...

Bow of Titanic now...

 

(Thank you, History Channel at history.com, for the photographs.)

Getting my kicks

Rule #6 – A writer needs to honor traditions, for there is a story within.

     When my friends and I go to the movies, the biggest decision is what to see. One time, two friends and I stood in the lobby of the local multiplex trying to pick a flick we would all enjoy. Our choices on the visual menu were 3 shoot-‘em-ups from various time periods, one horror film (no thanks), a few teen/sex flicks (got enough of that teaching middle and high school), 2 combo head trip/chick flicks, and some animation. Seeing blood drawn was no fun for any of us. We didn’t want to think or analyze the film we saw. None of us were in the mood for the biology lessons and procreation primers that are seemingly a mandatory part of scripts. So there we were – 3 seniors with tickets in hand – walking into the G-rated animation film with no kids to use as excuses.

     As we watched Pixar’s “Cars”, I was entranced by the scenery artwork. It felt comfortable, like I’d been there before. Then, in one scene, Lightning McQueen and Sally are out for a drive and go through a tunnel. On the other side, there is a spectacular waterfall behind Sally as she goes over a curved bridge. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks – I was at these places! That was Havasu Falls in Arizona. I remember driving right by it and getting to the other side of the bridge, finding the sign for Historic Rt. 66. That was the trip Hub and I took driving to Phoenix AZ and back one summer. It got me psyched to look up more Rt. 66 locations and check them out.

     We got to do just that in September when we again traveled out west. Our drive took us across southern Indiana and Illinois to St. Louis. We drove south of the city and picked up I-44, which parallels Historic Rt. 66. As Hub drove, I got pictures of places I’m sure inspired some of the scenery in “Cars”. I could swear we passed the inspiration for Sarge’s Hut and Fillmore’s Tent. The two lane road lined up right next to the north side of the Interstate Highway. The Interstate was straight and high speed, but the old 2-lane was slower, windier, and looked like a lot more fun. But we were in a hurry to get to Hub’s cousin’s home in Oklahoma.

     But one of our touring days in Oklahoma took us back to the Mother Road. We went down to Claremore OK and drove on another section of the historic highway. Here the name is Patti Page Boulevard. Instantly, my mind started looking for doggies in windows, and people doing the Tennessee Waltz. Yes, that part of the road is named after the singer, who just recently passed away.

     We rode to the intersection of Patti Page Boulevard and Will Rogers Boulevard, and followed the signs to the Will Rogers Museum. Another Claremore favorite son! Worth a stop in to see what all of this was all about.

     The museum looks more like a building at a university than a monument to a rough and tumble cowboy image. Well, it is right across the street from Rogers State University.  But go inside, and Rogers homespun humor is evident everywhere. Admission is only $5, inexpensive for what you learn about a premier humorist and his time period. Artifacts abound. You can witness Roger’s transition from trick roper on the vaudeville circuits to a radio commentator, to author and philosopher. Many of his sayings are up for all to see. And many are so true today.

     Now many don’t know who Will Rogers was. Many will google his name and come up with many hits. But we have all used his words in our conversations. His wit and wisdom is timeless.

     How many of us “…Never met a man that I didn’t like”?

     “Too many people spend money they haven’t earned, to buy things they don’t want, to impress people they don’t like.” Check any mall today and this is happening.

     “The short memories of the American voters is what keeps our politicians in office.” That’s fodder for a whole ‘nuther blog, folks. Along with “If pro is the opposite of con, what is the opposite of Congress?” and “A fool and his money are soon elected.”

     My personal favorite is “Common sense ain’t common.” So true!

     His philosophical musings stick with me the most. “You know horses are smarter than people. You never heard of a horse going broke betting on people.”

     And “The quickest way to double your money is to fold it in half and put it in your back pocket.”

     Or “Rumor travels faster, but it don’t stay put as long as truth.”

     And “Everyone is ignorant, only on different subjects.”

     “Don’t let yesterday take up too much of today.” Sounds good to me.

     “Live in such a way as you would not be ashamed to sell your parrot to the town gossip.”

     “All I know is just what I read in the papers, and that’s an alibi for my ignorance.” This applies now to getting news from any source including the “net”.

     On taking chances… “Why not go out on a limb? That’s where the fruit is,” and “Even if you are on the right track, you’ll get run over if you just sit there.”

     Visiting this museum put me in touch with a wit I had only heard about from my parents. I saw some film appearances by Rogers. But mostly, he was present on film clips. Here at the museum, you can see full films, full speeches and complete routines. You can also watch parts of the Broadway hit, “The Will Rogers Follies”.

      There’s more to see in parts of Historic Rt. 66. It doesn’t connect the way it used to. But it’s still here. There are still great sights to see. Check out the Mother Road routes on the internet. Just relax, go for a drive and have some fun.

     Now it’s time for a great Will Rogers saying…

     “Never miss a good chance to shut up.”

     So I will.

New...

Rule # 51 – Keep on keeping on.

Dear Hub,

Yesterday was January 1. Happy New Year! We didn’t spend it together this year, because we couldn’t. You celebrated with your folks, and my folks, and the Spunkys, Rusty and Romeo, and all the other family members who went before us. You have a unique perspective on this New Year, which I don’t have. Nor do I intend to have it for quite a long while. But it’s time to do some reflection on the past year.Oh and do I miss you!!! So much!!!

When I think about the year, it comes in lyric-form. I keep thinking about the songs we listened to, and what they say to me now.

“Ch-ch-changes! Turn and face the change.”

So much has changed! I have to do things on my own now. Completely on my own. Now I have to rely on my friends, where before I was the friend people relied on. You know me, stubbornly independent. But sometimes I always hope someone takes over and makes the decisions for me. Not to happen anymore, it’s not. I have to be more decisive now.

“Merry Christmas, Darling. We’re apart, that’s true.”

New traditions took over this past holiday. I’m sure you were ready to serve up the name of a good shrink when we all showed up at the cemetery on Christmas Eve with your bottle of Stoly. We toasted you with a shot and shared one with you. We will do that every year from now on. Yes, it looks silly. Maybe, stupid even. But the move got us through the day. We remembered you and the goofy things you did. I didn’t have to cook this year, and, know what? I could get used to that. I may be cooking next year, who knows? But in any event, we will miss you and the way you directed all the present opening that went on around our tree. Yes, Hon, I added more travel ornaments (I can hear you groan!). I will continue to add more. The bear tree went up inside this year (more groaning). But I get the feeling you really liked all the decorating we did. But now – at least after this Sunday – it will be time to clean it all up. That’s always been a sad time for me. I think for you too. But we have to make room for new things happening this year. Can’t do it with the old stuff hanging around, taking up space.

By the way, how DID you knock back that Stoly? I thought I swallowed liquid fire when I did that shot!

“This is our song. It might be quite different, but, now that it’s done. I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words how wonderful life is when you are in my world.”

I know I’ll be hanging on to the memories as I clean things out in the next few months. We have a memory box set up and ready for special items that are yours.

I’ve got another “crash” planned, too, that included something you’ve been after me to do for a while now – clear out the office. Well, “Sandy” had us spring a leak in the ceiling. So guess what I have to do now, so it can be completely fixed. See? You are still in my world… I am going to do some color changes too. And we will finally get the steps and hallways done with this crash. It’s only me to worry about right now. But I know you won’t let me sit and mope over everything. It’s a blog-worthy event in life. So I need you to keep me writing. I have my bottle of Writer’s Block wine uncorked and ready to go. Here’s hoping I can sell the doggie book, finish the snow dance book, and get started on Esther Bunny. Now I can visit the Canadian province she lives in, and see what it’s really like.

The hardest part will be finishing the job our son started in the basement. That was your “cave”. I just have to remember to do this in baby steps, a little at a time. And never start a project like that without tissues handy. Tears seem to come very easily anymore.

“Ch-ch-changes…”

This is not the way I wanted to start 2013. I wanted us both to celebrate the start of the year together, telling the little Mayan dude to stick the calendar wheel someplace. I wanted us both to plan trips together around the lower 48 for this summer and fall. Now I have to do this by myself.

“Don’t worry. Be happy!”

Now I have to make a conscious effort to be happy. I can do this. I’ve always been good at smiling through pain. But really, we have a lot to be happy about. We had a great life together. We have great kids and a fantastic grandchild. We have great friends and extended family. I think I’ll be all right… eventually. But make sure I know you’re around, ok?

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

I remember saying that to you in the hospital, especially on the last few days. I will always remember the last time you kissed me. It was such a privilege to be with you at the end. I’ll keep going on, but it won’t be the same. You are and will always be such a part of my life. The best part, to be sure… I’ll never let go of the memories.

But now it’s time to start anew.

“And I’ll always love you!”

Love,

Me

And then came October...

 

Rule #48 – You can’t control what happens, only your response to it.

Last posting, I made myself a few promises. I thought I could write at that time. I thought I could work around doctor’s appointments and helping Hub feel better. I even envisioned making notes while he was in physical therapy. Boy, was I wrong! I’ll have to remember the Alamo another time. Will Rogers’s Museum will have to influence my word-smithing at a later date.

The world as I know it is now forever changed.

When I said in that last post entry, that our next move to find the source of Hub’s back pain was another doctor, it turned out to be an oncologist. In the period of 3 weeks, we saw our family physician, a spine surgeon and an oncologist. Hub also had 2 MRI’s and a bone scan. The verdict was the same all around – cancer was back in our lives.

Hub was able to hang around at home for a bit. Sleeping was a chore. He was in big time pain from his back and it reared itself worst at night. He did feel best sitting in an upright chair. We watched a lot of History Channel together those days.

But I noticed small changes. He was having a harder time getting up from the sofa. He moved to a taller chair, but then had a very hard time getting up from that. He couldn’t take more than a few steps without stopping and catching his breath. He was using a cane, but that didn’t seem to help.

As the days passed, he seemed to deteriorate before my eyes. The robust fellow who knocked back wine at the Winemaster’s Dinner now had no appetite. He didn’t even want ice cream. I drove him the doctor’s appointments, and he didn’t criticize my driving.

We got to his spine surgeon’s appointment, and he needed a wheel chair to get into the office. It didn’t help that the girls at the reception desk hit us with, “We scheduled you for 8:40 appointment, not a 9 am one. We’ll see if we can squeeze you in.” This is after we spoke with the doctor directly who told us when to come in. That doctor was calm about telling us that the cancer had invaded the bone near his spine. There were small cracks in one of the vertebrae, which is why Hub was having so much trouble walking.

Later that same day, we met with Hub’s oncologist. He showed us the MRI results. I was never more afraid in my life. I’m not sure if the severity of the lung cancer diagnosis registered with Hub or not. He was always so stoic. Never showed his true emotions. Never showed any fear. That was Thursday afternoon. We left with a bunch of prescriptions to begin as soon as possible. Then the following Monday, he was to report to the hospital for a biopsy, to identify the “beast”. We would see what treatments were available based on the "beast" we were dealing with.

By Friday, after a few doses of the pain medication, Hub was having more and more trouble walking. He was having a hard time going to the rest room. His appetite was non-existent. We didn’t even go upstairs to sleep on Friday. We just stayed downstairs. He slept on the couch. I slept on the floor.

On Saturday, we started the day quietly. Hub was saying weird things at times. He was having a really hard time getting his point across. We both knew the pain meds were slowing his speech and making it difficult for him to get the thought out through the mouth. But as the day progressed, he seemed to get weaker. Then he couldn’t get back on the sofa without major assistance from me.

I felt like I had failed him when I said that I couldn’t do this by myself anymore. He needed the professionals taking care of him. I had to call the ambulance. I talked to the oncologist on-call, and he agreed with me. Then my call to 911…

How did things get this bad this fast? What happened? What did we miss on his other doctor’s appointments?  How did this healthy guy, who pushed lawnmowers with no problem only a few weeks earlier, become a frail, fragile fellow? And the big question... why?

Why now? Why him? Why us? We're not done yet. We are just getting started. We aren't ready for something this severe.

When the paramedics arrived, they asked Hub some questions, and he seemed a bit confused. The chief medic explained the physical side of what was happening in a calm manner. He wasn’t aware that the diagnosis hadn’t even settled into our brains yet. He didn’t know that all this information was too new to both of us.

I called my cousin and asked her to meet us at the hospital emergency room. Yes, the same cousin who only 2 weeks before buried her mother from a freak accident. This was all too much for both of us. I needed someone strong beside me. And she works in a hospital and knows the ropes.

I grabbed all the vital information I thought I’d need to take with me. The paramedics got Hub on the stretcher and into the ambulance. I followed behind in the car. My heart sank and I was tearing up as I pulled out of the driveway.

I remember feeling my late mom sitting next to me in the car. I thought I felt her rubbing my shoulder like she used to when I was a kid. I remember crying a bit as I drove out of the neighborhood.

“He’s not coming back to our house, is he, Mom?” I remember saying out loud.

 

He didn’t.

 

 

A September to Remember...

Rule # 41 – When all else fails, hang on tight!

Toyota is famous for their Christmas time ads, “The December to Remember” sales pitches. The other 11 months should be slightly ticked off with this. What makes you think it’s only December that’s worth remembering?

My whole summer was filled with ups and downs. For the most part, it was good ups and downs. Hub and I were busy, that’s for sure. We got the kitchen finished, painted the dining room, had visitors, made plans to travel, got the travel set up, then went on vacation in August and had a ball. Our only really down note was losing our 18 year old dog. Even today, neither of us is truly beyond that need for fur in our daily life.

But then came September…

You could probably tell from the number of postings that something was up. It’s not like I’ve forgotten my readers. The roller coaster that is life really had us on some serious peaks and valleys. I’m just now able to catch my breath after being sucker-punched by life.

It started just before Labor Day. My annual mammogram showed another abnormality so I was off to get that biopsy done. That came back 100 percent benign – praise God – so now it was time to start climbing the “up”.

We were leaving for a 2-week road trip to visit Hub’s cousins in Oklahoma and Texas, with a side stop to his niece in Dallas. A few days before we left, Hub’s sister called.

“Our house finally sold, can we move in with you until we leave finally for Texas?”

We said yes, got the timeframe settled, brought a copy of our house key over, and then packed up to leave on our trip. (up, down, up, down) It was going to work out ok, since we were officially to have house sitters for a few days while we were gone. But, I needed to let my neighbors know what was going on, since the sight of a U-Haul in my driveway might have Hub’s sister and brother-in-law U-Hauled to the pokey.

We finally head west at o-dark-thirty on a Monday morning. Such a peaceful, beautiful drive we had through the Maryland and West Virginia Mountains! It was a great time to ride shotgun to Hub’s driving and take pictures. We passed the exit for an asylum that was investigated on Ghost Hunters. I made a mental note to check it out further when we got to the hotel that evening. We made really great time the first day. It was also comforting to see that the DC Metro area is not immune to horrible traffic problems at rush hour. We hit Louisville, KY, at the rush and tried to get to Indiana, to a hotel we already stayed at before. It was bumper to bumper on some of the roads at that time of day. We joked that all the traffic was heading north, so that it would be Indiana’s problem from there on. Serious “up” at this point…

Hub normally likes to do all the driving. I don’t mind that. Same thing occurred this trip, too. He drove the first day. He was a bit stiff and sore at the end of Day 1. So we both did some time on the exercise machines in the hotel. As we finished our drive, I found that I was racking up lots of blog material from this trip. I started to organize it into blog topics to focus the writing a bit more. I did some driving at points on Day 2.

Oklahoma was a bit of a surprise. We crossed the border and did not see a “Welcome to Oklahoma” sign where we crossed. We saw “You are now entering the Cherokee Nation”. Hub’s cousins were so glad to see us. We relaxed, did a bit of touring in Tahlequah and Claremore, relaxed some more, talked until wee hours of the evening, relaxed and then finally agreed to do this again in the spring. Now it was off for a day’s drive to Dallas, to bunk in with his niece for the evening.

After spending the night with his niece, and catching up on the life and craziness of 2 teen girls with 2 working parents, we headed south to San Antonio to catch up with Hub’s other cousin and her hubby. He made it through cancer treatments and was doing really well, staying cancer free. Hub drove most of the way while I handled the navigation duties. Hub was very sore and stiff after all that driving. He’s not the best passenger, either, especially if I’m driving. There was a lot of side-seat driving and arguing going on when I was behind the wheel. But what else is new? More “ups”…

We got a chance to remember the Alamo – literally visit it. Lucky for us we went on a really rainy day. Almost no one was touring that day. So we had free reign of the site and could check out so much!! We walked around the tourist area surrounding the Alamo, checked out some shops, and made plans to take a Riverwalk cruise the next evening. That is, until we pulled into the driveway and my cell phone went off. Get ready to dive down the big hill.

My daughter called, so upset she could hardly talk, to tell me that my aunt passed away suddenly that morning. She didn’t know too many details at the time… she couldn’t convey them if she did, anyway. So later in the evening I made a few calls and got the details. Turns out she was killed in a freak accident in her church parking lot. People were in the process of being notified and funeral events were scheduled for the end of the week. This gave us time to get home.

We were over the “up” and now heading for a bunch of “downs”.

I drove most of the way home. Hub was stiff and sore in his back. Sometimes he would move and yell in pain. He sure wasn’t sleeping well. So we made a straight shot for home. We took Interstates all the way. As a side note, there are some places on the Interstate system that require a large bladder in your body. You can drive for hours and not hit anything resembling a rest area, unless you are a guy. This is true of some spots in Mississippi and Alabama. And don’t go getting hungry for anything other than fast food. When you do find a stop or restaurant, it usually has golden arches or a freaky-looking king nearby.

Hub is in some serious pain now that we are home. We schedule a doctor’s visit… then the doctor’s office cancels us and reschedules. We start on the funeral process; all the while Hub’s pain is visible on his face. He’s more comfortable sitting down, but chairs in funeral homes are not always easy to get in and out of. He was having a harder time getting up and down. Churches need to rethink straight wooden pews, too.  He had a hard time sitting through the Mass, and not just because he’s not a Catholic. He made it through the viewing, Mass and the burial on the third day.  Then he got to see our doctor, who began treating him for back spasms.

Now the calendar is in the last week of September. His pain is still high on the scale. The spasm meds are not doing what they should. And he is having a harder time walking. We go back to the doctor, who gives us heavier pain meds. They seem to work some. In the meantime, we need to get some tests done. He now has a referral for a spine doctor and more tests than a Maryland school kid.

In between, I am helping my cousins clean out my aunt’s apartment. They set a date of the end of September to have the place emptied out, so they didn’t need to pay another month’s rent. My aunt told my cousin on several occasions before her passing, “You will rue the day you have to clean out my house.” She did. My daughter was helping us on one of the days. She reminded me to take care of my stuff now. She’s right. I need to do that. But first, let’s get the Hub pain free.

It’s half past October and we are finally getting some answers for Hub’s back. We see another doctor today, who should have some definitive word for us. Somewhere in there, I need to concentrate on writing. Right now, this blog could be one of my mental therapy sessions. Now to keep myself calm and get him off to the doctor’s appointment…

Notes to self:

• Blog about doctor’s offices and gatekeeper/office personnel. Try to be kind.
• Blog about the Alamo and Oklahoma touring portions of the trip.
• Don’t forget the notes on restrooms on interstate highways you made on the trip. That’s worth a blog post too, even if the potty subject is a bit middle school.

Ups… downs…ups… downs… right now I could use a merry-go-round. Just for a bit. And a whole lot of sleep…

It's "Another" Day...

Rule #3 – Experience everything.

History – if we don’t learn from it, we are doomed to repeat it. These aren’t my words. They come from Greece long ago, in one form or another. Winston Churchill said something similar. George Santayana did, too. It’s a phrase that’s been used and reused, parsed and re-parsed, and in the end, proven correct. We all need to study history, and try to experience it as much as possible in our current day, so that we not only honor those in our past, but understand their vision for their future. We are living in “their vision” as we speak and what are we doing differently? How are we doing it differently? Are we doing anything differently, really? And, why?

These are questions that rolled around in my head after visiting Montpelier, James Madison’s home, in Orange, Virginia. This may sound like a strange reaction to visiting a historical mansion, and viewing the daily life of one of our “founding fathers”. But James Madison was not so much a founding father of our country, like Washington, Adams (Sam or John) or Jefferson. He was truly responsible for a lot of what we live today. James Madison is the architect of our U.S. Constitution, the major document that drives the laws in our country. It’s also THE document that’s had its relevancy challenged in the recent American press and courts. With 2012 being a Presidential election year, I wanted to visit Mr. Madison’s home to see what he was “all about”.

I went into the visit with some prior knowledge of Madison’s professional career. He was our fourth President. His wife’s name was Dolley. He was president during the War of 1812, and was the first to have to evacuate the capital city for the safety of the government. Dolley Madison was also the first to serve a new French concoction called iced cream. Being a Philadelphia native, I remember the brand “Dolley Madison Ice Cream” from when I was growing up. Beyond that, nothing stood out in my mind. Politically, he was sandwiched between Thomas Jefferson (Louisiana Purchase) and James Monroe (Monroe Doctrine).

Now his home is a National Historic Trust site. The restoration work is as recent at 2003. The goal for the restoration is to bring the home back to the post-Presidential period of Madison’s life.

There is a long, winding drive from Route 20, Constitution Highway, up to the Visitor’s Center at Montpelier. From here, you can see that this home was at one time a working farm. You can also see how subsequent owners put their own stamp on the land. The last private owner, Marion DuPont Scott, bred horses for racing. You drive past a track and can occasionally see a horse work out with the sulky for harness racing.

View from the front of the Montpelier Mansion

Pull into the Visitor’s Center lot and catch your breath, as I did, with the beautiful view of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The day I visited was hot, but the haze did not impede the view at all. You can imagine the colors in autumn. In the Visitor’s Center, I could use one of the many Smartphones with self-paced audio tours on them. These tours also have apps that visually give plenty of background for each stop on the tour. These items are free to use, just leave a deposit at the desk. Before you go a-wandering, you might want to get a snack or drink at the Courtyard Café. There are two galleries in the Visitor’s Center to check out, too. One holds items from the DuPont era; the other focuses on Dolley Madison. Now let’s go to the theater to view the film and “meet” our host for the day.

Montpelier, Orange, Virginia

Our group walks up Madison Road to the front gate of the house where we meet our tour guide for the house tour. She explains that the house we see before us was, at first, a smaller version, then expanded, then “duplexed”, and finally returned to is current look. We walked up to the porch, with a floor surface of marble, which keeps the porch 10 to 15 degrees cooler than the house in the heat of the summer.

Inside, our group tours the first floor living spaces of our fourth President. It shows the residual of when the home was a duplex, with Mrs. Madison, his mother, and her staff on one side and Mrs. Madison, his wife, and family on the other. We learn that Mr. Madison thought ahead of the territorial egos of the two most important women in his life.

As we tour the second floor, we learn more about the archeological investigations and the restoration process. The master bedroom gives you a good look into the lives – and hygiene opportunities – of those living at that time. We move into the library space, a precious location for Mr. Madison, since all of his treasured books were here. Since the books were sold off after his death, we don’t see the actual books, but we have the view of the mountains to inspire us, and a multi-media reflection on his greatest work, the drafts of the Constitution, to view. Brace yourself, too, because at the end of the presentation comes my personal favorite part: “The Constitution… Read it. Cherish it. Protect it.” Brace yourself for the cheers from those of us who want people to really READ the document.

Our tour group then moves to the grounds of Montpelier. Some of us choose to investigate the formal garden. Others check out the slave quarters site. The rest of us head into the side office where a reenactor – or “James Madison” himself – was available for discussions. Mr. Madison sits at his desk and fields questions about the reason for the War of 1812. There is a spirited discussion between the audience of now and Mr. Madison of then. We get a chance to look into how decisions of such magnitude are made. Another audience member asks about his courtship of Dolley. We find out there was a substantial age difference between them, and that Mr. Madison was truly smitten with his wife. He blushed as he described his courtship and the long lasting love he had for her. I personally, spend the greater part of an hour in the company of this gentleman.

View of the slave quarters site just outside the main house

President James Madison and yours truly after a long discussion in his office

Due to the rising heat and humidity of the day, the visit is shortened. I walk around the house grounds, and through the slave quarters area and take pictures of the site. I walk over to the area near Dolley’s kitchen where the staff demonstrates cooking techniques of the time period. There is a chance for youngsters to help in the kitchen too, with hands on demonstrations. I walk over to the other hands-on tent, where you can learn wood crafting and needlecrafts from the Madison era. I did not hike to the Forest Walking Trail, over to the Archeology Lab, or down to the Family and Slave Cemeteries. That’s for my next visit, in cooler weather.

Mr. Madison's "Temple" over the year-round ice house

Bronze rendering of Mr. and Mrs. Madison

View of the walled formal garden from the slave quarters

 

I really need to return to Montpelier. There is so much to see and more history to absorb. And my questions are still not completely answered. So much to learn about history…so much to learn from history…

What a view from the front porch!

 All photos are the sole property of Marge McGugan. No reproduction or reuse without permission.