From Home to Home, and Back, Day 28: The French Connection of the Show Me State

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Ste. Genevieve, MO lies tight along the Mississippi, about two hours south of St. Louis.  It is Missouri’s Canadian connection, and having been founded in 1735, is the oldest permanent European settlement in the state.  I spent about 2 1/2 hours there, in the afternoon of September 19.  Here is a sampling of the town’s architecture, both of the 18th and 19th centuries.

Of course, I started at a 20th Century edifice:  Great River Road Visitor Center.

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Then, it was time to revert to Les Bontemps Vieux.

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The County Courthouse is typical of  the Midwest’s great structures.

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The Cathedral of Ste. Genevieve is, by far, the signature piece of this lovely town, named in her honour.

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This grand little settlement has its cheeky side, and here’s a nod to one of my online friends.

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Day 29 was a misty, cool visit to another unexpected favourite- Little Rock.

From Home to Home, and Back, Days 26-28: Potomac to Mississippi

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I had interesting stops along the way, from Annapolis to Ste. Genevieve, MO.  Taking I-86, instead of I-70, took me through Hancock and Cumberland, MD, both small, but historically vital towns.  Hancock was my dinner stop, and has a couple of hiking trails that could occupy the time of furloughed Federal workers, should there be another “hiccup”.  It also has Weaver’s, a decent family restaurant in the downtown area.

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I didn’t take the hiking trails, but in the off-chance I get back this way, Hancock is close to the AppalachianTrail.

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One of the trails begins near this bridge, behind Main Street.

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My stop in Cumberland was for dessert and Wifi.  There was the added bonus of this historic train station park, which has a European Desserts Cafe on its southern edge.

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Day 26 ended at a Super 8, in Waynesburg, PA. This is the heart of a fracking area, so I was lucky to get a room, on that rainy night.

The next day was bright and sunny, and got me as far as Bloomington, IL.  I didn’t indulge in sightseeing, though Rudy’s, in Springfield, OH, has some worthwhile barbecue, at a rock-bottom price.  Richmond, IN, is worth a stop, if one wants to sample Amish goods.  I stopped there for about an hour, for Wifi.  Getting to Bloomington, IL around 8:30 P.M., I encountered a welcome sight, at Schooner’s.

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Nataly was gracious and a fine conversationalist.  Since Bloomington has become a favoured stop of mine, in this part of Illinois, it was  doubly worth our two hour visit.  I stayed at America’s Best Value, for the second time in two months, and took care of “housekeeping” tasks the next morning.  Much of Day 28, though, was spent in Ste. Genevieve, Missouri’s oldest settlement.

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 26: Annapolis, Part 3: The Academy

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The United States Naval Academy was an outgrowth of the War of 1812.  It had become evident that America would be subject to continued outside harassment, without a more systematic training of officers, especially for our Navy.  After years of debate (wonder of wonders), the Academy was founded in 1845, at what was then Fort Severn, near the waterfront of Annapolis.

Today, here are some scenes from this elegant and well- appointed institution of learning.  It must be remembered that the Academy is also an active military base, so the photographs are of public areas, only.

This entrance is for special events, only.

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The north entrance is the main gate.

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The Academy’s mission is clearly stated.

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One clears security, in this building.

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Admiral William F. Halsey,  a hero of World War II, is prominent in Academy lore.

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Slogans from earlier times keep the cadets inspired.

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Here is the Visitor Center, from the water’s edge.

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As the residential areas and classroom buildings are off-limits to visitors, here is a reprise of the water, as seen from the Academy grounds.

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It was, all too soon, time to head west, so I said farewell to my  childhood friend, the Atlantic  Ocean, and headed across Maryland, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania, before stopping for the night.

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 26: Annapolis, Part 2- Potatoes, Pubs and A Paragon of Justice

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Upon arriving in downtown Annapolis, I meandered around the back streets a bit, before checking out the Visitor Center.

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Of course, lunch was very much on the agenda, so I checked out a Baked Potato restaurant, of all things.  it was fabulous.

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The decor inside was innovative and entertaining.

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Annapolis being the state capital of Maryland, the government edifices were much in evidence.

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One of Maryland’s great human treasures was the late former Supreme Court Justice, Thurgood Marshall- a paragon of jurisprudence.

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Maryland’s Roman Catholic roots are celebrated throughout Annapolis.  Here is the Calvert House.

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The Church of St. Ann is Annapolis’ premier Catholic edifice.

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Moving away from the Capitol ^, we come upon the city’s historic watering holes.

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Along with the rest of  the nation, Annapolis paid its respects to the Anacostia 12.

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The events of the previous day just made my visit to the United States Naval Academy all the more poignant.

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 26: Annapolis, Part 1- The Resonant Waterfront

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The right way, to me, to experience a town like Annapolis, MD, is from the water’s edge, on inland.  That was not exactly how I actually carried out my visit, because there was a rather important matter that attended my arrival there:

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I was glad to spend an hour or so visiting with Christina and her daughter.  I have known the family, online, for about 3 1/2 years now.  Real time just underscores my joy at feeling close to them.  Christina has a very good sense of things, and is an excellent parent.

Returning to the traveler’s Annapolis, my maritime roots were well-nourished here.  Some of these scenes were taken from the Town Dock, and some from the United States Naval Academy- more on that great institution, later.

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Annapolis’ maritime history is part nefarious (It was a center of the slave trade), and part honorable (The American naval effort in the War of 1812 was, in good part, waged from here.)  It is all worthy of study.
There are two major African-American figures associated with Annapolis:  Alex Haley and Thurgood Marshall.  Mr. Haley’s ties to this city stem, as is well-known, from the documented arrival here, in 1767, of one Kunta Kinte (see Harold Courlander’s, The African), whom Alex Haley claimed as an ancestor, in his book, Roots.  Alex Haley, and his ancestors, are honoured at a dockside park

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Following, are some tablets, recapping some timeless quotes from “Roots”.

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The full story of Annapolis is contained herein.

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This edifice is, for me, something to be savoured another time.

In Part 2, I will focus on the center of historic Annapolis, from the Visitor Center, to the Capitol and on to Dock Street, gateway to the Naval Academy, which will itself be the focus of Part 3.

Men and Women, Pure and Simple

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                                                “The best way out is always through”  – Robert Frost

I am in a mood to rant.  Greeting me this morning, when I logged on, was a message from a friend.  It was clear, it was heartfelt, and it was loving.  I found it the most refreshing message I have received  online, in a good long while.  It established the parameters of our friendship.

I look forward to that ongoing friendship.  The person is one of the most enjoyable people I’ve met, in a very long time.

Now comes the fact that I’m a man, and my friend is a woman.  Automatically, the notion that I must like her for one thing, primarily, has come up, with some people more than others.

So, let me say this:  Women are not, and have never been, one-dimensional beings.  Men are not, and have never been, one-dimensional beings.  Then, why do we assume such of ourselves, and of one another?

I am an affectionate man.  I hug my son, my brothers, my sister and my SIL’s, my nieces and nephews, and those of my friends who like being hugged.  I kiss my mother, my MIL, and a few female friends, who will remain anonymous.  Physical affection is not the crux of our friendship.  It just gives me a nice feeling, when it happens.  Yes, I had a full, intimate relationship with my wife of 29 years, and that part of our eternal bond is over.

I get in a very stormy mood, reading of how certain men have screwed over the women they say they love.  When I hear from women friends about how their menfolk have hurt them, I have to say- I wouldn’t blame any of you, if you were to lock yourselves up in cloisters, for the remainder of this earthly life.  I would miss you,  terribly, but I would understand.

I know of at least two men who have been screwed over by the women in their lives, as well.  Trying to out-callous men does not make those women stronger people.  They need to do the same shame walk that my jerkwad fellow males ought to do.

People are not for beating.  Feelings are not for trampling.  Souls are not for burning.

I love my friends.  Some are platonic.  Some are confidants.  Four, two men and two women, have Best Friend status, by my lights.  One, whom I am getting to know, could very well be my fifth Best Friend, in time.  I know, “best” is a superlative term.  I would step up for anyone I regard as a friend.  I would take a bullet for anyone I regard as a Best Friend.  You know who you are.

I mean what I say, and always have.  I have shown atypical behaviours, now and then, in wrestling with my demons and my neurosis.  A book by Justice St. Vrain, entitled “Love, Lust and the Longing for God”, has helped with that struggle.  I have always owned up to my flaws.  The reason is, that God made me noble, as He made all of us.  The introductory quote from Robert Frost defines my life path.

Every single human being has goals, dreams and life plans.  Every single human being deserves at least one friend who will support her or him in this vein.  I have people who support me, my aforementioned best friends, my son, and my newest friend.  I, in turn, support them.

We go wrong, ladies and gentlemen, when we place our own whims and wants above the plans and dreams of those we say we love.  No one wins that struggle.  Unsure of that?  Just look at the wreckage of families around you, and at bonds that have been wrent asunder,without rhyme or reason.

The key is detachment.  The means is communication.  Cling to a branch too tightly, and don’t be surprised when it breaks.  Stay silent, out of fear, arrogance or pride, and don’t complain that you are being misunderstood.

We are all in this together, through pain and joy, love and sorrow, work and play, love and heartache.

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 25: Gettysburg, Part 2- These Hallowed Scenes

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There is, at Gettysburg Battlefield National Historical Park, an eerie stillness- even in midday, and even with tourist hordes disgorging from buses, filling the Visitor Center, and lining up for bicycle and Segway tours.  The fallen rule these precincts.

Central Pennsylvania is filled with natural beauty, and the approaches to he battlefield are filled with same.

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The Visitor Center is huge, and always full.

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There is one figure, though, who remains unruffled by it all, having spoken his peace, so long ago.

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Once in the cemetery and monument areas, the horror of the three-day battle is underscored by every grave, every monument and every southward view, towards the Mason-Dixon Line, a scant 12 miles away.  It’s said, by frequent visitors, that ghosts congregate here, on a regular basis.  I post the following photos, without individual comment.  Please note that all are of Union soldiers and regiments.

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This is a look back north, towards the Union commander’s headquarters.

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Below, is The Angle, from which the Union advance guard fired on Confederates, who were advancing in the fields below.

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Here is another Union reconnaissance point.  This stone wall was defended by Union troops, upon Confederate General Armistead’s troops having advanced to the Copse of Trees, passing just west of the grove, before Union troops engaged them and drove them back.

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This obelisk honours the 89th Pennsylvania volunteers.

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The Copse of  Trees, below, represents the northernmost advance point by Confederate forces in the War Between The States. The monument in front of  the Copse is called the High Water Mark.

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Native Americans fought for both sides in the conflict.  This monument honours the Tammany Regiment, from New York City.

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The monument below honours the Vermont Regiment, and is shown in two frames.

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The following frames show the Pennsylvania State Monument, at the eastern edge of the park.

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The next two views are from the top of the Pennsylvania State Monument.

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I caught one final glimpse of the Copse of Trees.  Were it not for this vantage point, the story of our nation may have turned out far differently.

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I was in a somber mood, the rest of the day.  Driving through the Brandywine Valley, Chadds Ford, Wilmington and the University of Delaware at Newark, I was in no further mood for photography.  At North East, MD, I learned what else had transpired that day- 12 innocent lives were snuffed out, at Anacostia Navy Yard, a place I visited twice, as a soldier, in 1970

My planned visit the following day, to the United States Naval Academy, took on a graver mien.

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 25: Gettysburg, Part I- The Town Which Endured

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My first inclination, when visiting a place of historic significance, is to look at the surroundings of the historic relics.  Who are the people who live here? How do they adapt to having to share their home with others?  What does the town/city, which surrounds the historic park, have to offer?

In going about the city of Gettysburg, PA, I concerned myself with the town center, and with Gettysburg College, which was in existence, and in session, at the time of the seminal battle.  Here are some scenes of those two.

I started at the Central Train Station, walked towards Gettysburg College, and proceeded in a southwesterly direction, then around the campus and back to Lincoln Square.

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I came upon Gettysburg College, at the Kline Theater.  Each and everyone of the buildings that follow, bore witness to the horrors of the War Between the States.

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Walking back into town, a Victorian neighbourhood comes into view.

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Lincoln Square is the centerpiece of the city, and in fact, was where the President stayed, when he came here to pay his homage to the fallen.

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This hotel housed Mr. Lincoln’s entourage, and the press corps, in 1863.

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The president himself, though, stayed here:

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The Wills House was the residence of a businessman who was Abraham Lincoln’s sincerest backer in Pennsylvania.

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Here is one final look at Lincoln Square.

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It would be an afternoon of awe, fascination, and considerable spiritual pain, at Gettysburg Battlefield National Historical Park.

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 24: An Ides of September Meander

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I woke up in Danbury, CT on September 15, and, seeing no place open for a Sunday morning breakfast, picked up coffee and a muffin at the Gulf station, and headed out.  Northwest Connecticut and the lower Hudson Valley got short shrift this time, as I needed to make it to Pompton Plains, NJ by 11:30, to see the folks at my FIL’s hospital room.

As it happened, the nation’s Prisoners of War were being honoured at High Point, NJ, not far from Pompton, so I spent about twenty minutes there.  High Point is New Jersey’s- highest point. LOL.

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I spent about 45 minutes in Pompton, and, satisfied that Pops would be getting out of the hospital the next day, I made a beeline for Philadelphia, and Chestnut Hill’s Wissahickon Park, where I met my youngest niece and her friend, and enjoyed a light supper, amid salubrious surroundings.

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Leaving Philly, I passed through Germantown.

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Day’s end found me in more familiar surroundings- Glick Farm, for a good night’s rest.

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Such were my Sunday meanderings- on the way to Gettysburg.

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 23: The Great Race

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Sail Blind is a non-profit organization, which supports the legally blind and totally blind, in their efforts to use Braille and other tactile and auditory means, in manning sailboats, for both therapeutic and recreational purposes.  My brother, from Massachusetts, is a member of this organization.  He participated in a series of races, on Newport, RI Harbor, September 14-15.

This is  a series of glimpses into that event, and its environs.  Below, my brother and a member of the supervisory team.

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Here is another view of the race group.

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Below is a view of Newport Harbor.

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While waiting for the race to start, I took a brief ride over to Oceancliffs Resort Hotel.

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Here is a view of Aquidneck Bridge, from Oceancliffs.

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The decor and landscaping at Oceancliffs are indicative of Newport as a whole.

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At 11:30, it was time to go back to Fort Adams, from whence the race would begin.

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Here is the administrative boat (below).

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Where you see #12, in the photos below, you are seeing my brother’s boat.

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The vessel below is one of the supercontainers which use Newport Harbor,

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The Manatee, below, was our Spectator Boat.

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The gentleman below was our Sail Blind staff accompanist and commentator, who greatly added to the experience.

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We ended the day with a group dinner at this restaurant, in Middletown, just north of Newport, on Aquidneck Island.

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After dinner, I bid farewell to my brother and sister-in-law, and  headed northwest, spending the night in Danbury, CT.