Life in the 1%

I have infiltrated the ranks of the 1%, and so far my report is that being in the 1% is awesome.

As readers of this blog know by now, my family isn't big into flight. We drive basically everywhere. When we do fly, it's always in economy class and no checked bags. While I don't hate air travel, being violated by the TSA is not high on my list of things I like to do. 

But thanks to my soon-to-be canonized father and his stockpile of frequent flyer miles, I am about to do something I have never done before: fly First Class.

Already I can tell flying First Class is amazing. I got a free checked bag! The airline people are not horrifically rude to me! I get to go ahead in lines (when I remember I can use the preferred ones)! They didn't care that I wore my sunglasses into the creepy voyeuristic X-ray machine (that one actually concerns me a bit)! 

I expected flying First Class to be nicer, since it's so much more expensive. What I didn't expect was to feel like something of an impostor. I am not the kind of person who flies First Class. I'm the person who sits in economy, usually sandwiched between a chatty businessman and a gassy Australian (true story). It's going to be hard to go back.

I have come to an important conclusion: I need to get rich so this can become a more regular experience. 

Southern Comfort

I realized after my last couple of posts, someone could get the impression that I had a miserable time in The South. Nothing could be further from the truth. I had a great time and found many things to like and love about the places I went. So, for the sake of accuracy, I have compiled a list of things I enjoyed about The South.

1. Friendliness
Having grown up in an area of Pennsylvania where the locals can most charitably be described as reticent, I appreciated the general atmosphere of friendliness in The South. People were helpful and sweet and willing to just have a nice chat with a stranger.

Even the mules are friendly in the South.

2. Their accents
As I stated in my previous post, I have always wanted to say "y'all" naturally. I seriously envy those who can.

3. Barbeque
I love barbeque. I also have no idea what the difference between good barbeque and bad barbeque is. Trying to find restaurants, people would tell me the barbeque someplace was decent, but when I ate there, it would taste amazing. Because of this, I ate more barbeque in a five day period than I usually do in six months. 

4. Fireworks stores
Fireworks are illegal in Pennsylvania, but vendors in Pennsylvania can sell fireworks to people in New Jersey, even though fireworks are also illegal in New Jersey (ah, the beauty of a country of laws). I say this to make it clear I have seen fireworks warehouses before. I have bought fireworks in a fireworks warehouse before.

If you love fireworks (and if you don't, you really don't know what you're missing), go south. I saw more billboards and stores related to fireworks in five days in the south than the rest of my life put together. Not only was there a heavy concentration, each place was big, usually about the size of a small airplane hangar. My excitement never dwindled with each sighting, so now about 10% of our pictures from the trip are of fireworks warehouses.

Sadly, none of those pictures were actually good.

5. The insane concentration of historical markers
Anyone who has read this blog has probably figured out that I'm a massive history nerd. When I see a historical marker, I get excited. I soon learned being a history lover in the South was like being wine lover in Napa. In Charles City, Virginia I saw four markers within ten feet of each other. The sight was so overwhelming, I almost swooned, or at least let out an undignified squeal of excitement.

I was almost run over in the process of getting this picture.
It was worth it.

6. The opportunity to finally experience song geography

As a music lover and college radio DJ, I love me a theme playlist. My southern tour gave me my best opportunity yet to indulge in my propensity for geographically themed songs. Carolina in My Mind, Sweet Home Alabama, The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down (both versions!), and basically every Pretty Girl song were all played at some point. However, my proudest accomplishment was the realization that there is a geographical error in the song Wagon Wheel by Old Crow Medicine Show: Johnson City is actually to the east of the Cumberland Gap. 

I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy

Previous to this trip, I've only been as far south as Nashville (Orlando doesn't count because it's basically its own country of theme parks and ridiculously expensive water), so I've never really felt like I could say I'd been to The South.  Now that I've spent some time there, I can honestly say I am a Yankee through and through. 

The reasons I was never so aware of what a Northerner I am until I went to the South are as follows:

1.) My level of patience
I like to think of myself as a patient person, but much of my time south of the Mason-Dixon line was spent racing through historic sites with a level of urgency that first bemused, and then annoyed the people who worked there. What's the hurry? Stay a while! was the unspoken remark in their patient smiles. Meanwhile, I was taking notes with the speed of a crazed stenographer at a horse auction. 

2.) My hatred of sweet tea
While in Tennessee getting a sandwich for lunch, I ordered a large iced tea, hoping it would cool me off after spending the morning in the already sweltering heat. I took one sip and almost spit it out since it was probably three-quarters sugar. From that moment on I was careful to make sure I was getting "unsweet tea" (which is a way more charming term than unsweetened iced tea). To be fair, all the unsweet tea I had was delicious, but the fear of accidentally drinking sweet tea was always there.

Union Uniform at Berkeley Plantation

3.) My lack of knowledge of obscure Confederate figures
My Civil War history focused mainly on what factors contributed to eventual Union victory, with a massive emphasis on Gettysburg since I grew up in Pennsylvania. But daring Confederate blockade runners? Not so much.

Barbeque joint in Warm Springs, Georgia

  4.) My undiscerning barbeque palate
It all tasted awesome. I don't know how anyone can rank barbeque since literally all of it tasted amazing to me.

5.) My accent
Although my accent immediately marked me as a Yankee, I was mostly just happy it survived. I have an unfortunate habit of picking up accents wherever I go. To make matters worse, I can't actually do accents all that well so I sound like I'm mocking people when in fact I'm suppressing the urge to forget the way I've spoken for the past twenty years of my life because I'd really love to say "y'all" in a way that sounds natural.

6.) My inability to cope with the heat
As a descendant of exclusively pale people, I've never fared very well in the sun. I don't tan so much as go through a burn, peel, fade cycle. Naturally, I knew the South would be hot. I knew it would be humid. What I didn't know was that walking outside would feel like entering the Amazon River basin and would cause every pore in my body to sweat like there was no tomorrow. 

The Night I Drove Down to Old Dixie (Part Two)

You can read Part One here.


After a pleasant sojourn through Tennessee, we were on our way to Georgia. Our route was supposed to take us across the Tennessee-Georgia border, coming within two miles of the Alabama border without actually crossing into Alabama. This was unacceptable to my father and me, but for totally different reasons. He wanted to check another state off the states he has visited; I wanted to confirm Alabama in fact existed.


Several years ago, I got it into my head that Alabama had ceased to exist sometime in the mid-1990s. I had just finished reading To Kill a Mockingbird for the second time and realized I didn't know anyone from Alabama and I hadn't heard of anyone or anything coming out of Alabama in the past 15 years (this was before I knew anything about college football). Somehow, my lack of exposure to the people and culture of Alabama convinced me that it had, in fact, been swept out to sea sometime around 1995, and the people of Mississippi couldn't bring themselves to tell the rest of the country.

Definitive proof of the existence of Alabama

As we approached the border, my level of excitement mounted to ridiculous levels. In a moment of frenzied glee, I started playing "Sweet Home Alabama" as we finally entered Alabama, and didn't turn it off until we left five minutes later. 


In Georgia, we stopped by a few historic sites near the town of Dalton. My great-great grandfather who fought in the Civil War was wounded there, and it was really cool to see the house where he recovered as well as the site of the battle where he was shot. 

House that used to double as the Union hospital
Dalton, GA

On our way back home, we stopped by the Jamestown National Historic Site. We had arrived just in time for the 105 degree heat (120 degree heat index!). This was made even worse by the fact that Jamestown was built on a swamp, so the added humidity made it almost unbearable.

The staff at Historic Jamestown warn us about the heat

Luckily, the site was interesting enough to make up for the weather. The area where the fort once stood is surrounded by a replica of the original fence. Archaeologists are still working on the site to uncover new artifacts to analyze, which are housed in a museum located just beyond the fort itself. There were more monuments than I ever would have imagined, including statues of John Smith and Pocahontas, looking a little different from their Disney counterparts.

Jamestown was the perfect end to an amazing trip because it brought everything right back to the beginning. With the benefit of history, Jamestown is a historic place full of meaning and purpose, but at the time, the colonists could not have known how important their struggle to survive would be. 

The Night I Drove Down To Old Dixie (Part One)

A week ago I started my Southern Tour of presidential homes with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. It was my most ambitious trip, consisting of the most average miles traveled per day. 

Fortunately, I had both my parents with me to help with the driving. Saints that they are, they came with me to each of the sites. This turned out to be a bigger commitment than originally intended; I only planned on visiting 11 presidential homes, but we ended up seeing 15. 

Amazingly, 7 of those visits were completed on the first day, thanks to a few last minute additions. The first of these impromptu stops was at Montpelier, the home of James Madison, which I noticed was only 40 miles out of our way. It was already closed, but we could walk the grounds. Our only company was a pair of deer, which added to the serene beauty of the place. It was certainly worth a detour.

We are spotted by the Montpelier deer

Montpelier, home of James Madison

On our way back to the main road, we came within a few miles of Ash Lawn-Highland, home of president Monroe, which I had no pictures of. We decided to make a stop there to get some exterior shots of the house since it was already late evening. However, when we got there, the parking lot was full. Turns out, a wedding reception was being held on the grounds. Not to be deterred, we snuck around, avoiding the wedding guests while we snapped a few pictures. Mission accomplished.

Shortly after this picture was taken, we were chased off
the property by enraged newlyweds

The next day, we visited Poplar Forest, the country retreat of Thomas Jefferson. While on the tour, we discovered that Jefferson had purchased a natural bridge for five dollars that still existed. We decided to stop by and check it out when we realized it was right on our route into Tennessee. As we got off the highway, we probably should have picked up on the warning signs that The Natural Bridge was not what we were expecting; namely, the billboards for a dinosaur theme park and Foamhenge, a replica of Stonehenge presumably made of foamboard.

When we finally arrived at the Natural Bridge, we had to walk into a large complex about the size of an elementary school that turned out to be a combination Visitors Center/Gift Shop (with emphasis on the Gift Shop). We briefly convened to discuss what would be an acceptable price to view the bridge. I maintained five dollars would be ideal, since that was how much Jefferson paid for the bridge, but we eventually settled on ten. Imagine our surprise when we learned that it cost $19 per person to see the natural rock formation. We were also informed that we could choose to either walk or take a shuttle to see it, despite the fact that it was less than a quarter mile away. In the end, we opted out of shelling out 60 bucks to see a rock and got some ice cream instead.

I only view rock formations for free

To be continued...

Presidential House Visit: Where in the World is Richard Milhous Nixon?

For those of you who wondered what Richard Nixon
would look like in the Carmen Sandiego hat

Forget Carmen Sandiego- Richard Milhous Nixon has given me more trouble than a globetrotting master thief.

Since I lack the funds to get a flight to California, his birthplace in Yorba Linda, California wasn't an option, so I decided to get creative. I looked up the various places where he lived and discovered he had a house in Saddle River, New Jersey, less than two hours away. I read some rumblings about its imminent demolition, but decided it was close enough to give it a shot.

Site of the Nixon Saddle River residence

I got hopeful as I entered the neighborhood of mansions, but as I drove up to the address, I realized with dismay the reports were indeed true. There was no trace of the house, only a plot of trees between mansions with some abandoned building materials. I was surprised not only by how eerie it was, but how sad it made me. I wouldn't characterize myself as Nixon's biggest fan, but it seemed wrong that no one made a greater effort to save the house.

I was also sad because the lack of house meant I still had a Nixon sized hole in my checklist. Luckily, I had found another New Jersey Nixon residence only fifteen minutes away in Park Ridge. Unfortunately, I never even got to pull up to that house, since it was in a gated community. It turns out it's actually really difficult to sweet-talk your way into a private neighborhood for the obscenely wealthy. 

I was getting discouraged at this point, but faint heart never won fair lady-- or in this case, dead politician's former residence. After a bit more snooping around the internet I found two addresses of houses the Nixons lived in while they were in Washington, both still privately owned.

The house the Nixons resided in during the 1950s

Residence of the Nixon family in the 1960s

Driving up to the first house in Washington, DC, I said a silent prayer it hadn't been destroyed in a freak lightning storm. Happily, it was not only still standing, it looked to be in excellent shape. The next house was also well cared for and quite beautiful. All of the houses were tucked away in quiet neighborhoods where the Nixons would be afforded some measure of privacy. 

Driving away, I realized with no small amount of glee that I had not been defeated by Richard Nixon.  

Update: Numbers and Figures

Presidential House Visit: George H. W. Bush Birthplace

George H. W. Bush Birthplace
Milton, Massachusetts

One of the great joys of this project has been the amount of care that goes into the upkeep of the houses. Maintaining a historic home is a labor of love that needs both funding and the passion of people who care. The fact that so many sites still exist today, even for the most obscure presidents is a testament to the people who keep them going.

Plaque on a rock in front of the house

The George H. W. Bush Birthplace was, unfortunately, an example of what can happen when that funding and passion doesn't come through. The house still stands just south of Boston in Milton, Massachusetts just several miles from the Adams National Historic Site in Quincy. The house is privately owned, but a marker stands on the property explaining the historic nature of the house, which is blocked by trees and bushes, so I had to go up the driveway to get a better look at it.

I almost wished I hadn't, because it upset me. I couldn't describe it as dilapidated, but it certainly wasn't in good shape. I wasn't expecting this, mostly because the other houses in the area look to be about the same age and are in excellent condition. The house itself was a large wooden Victorian with a welcoming front porch, and if taken care of, would be quite beautiful. I hope that someday soon the house will find a champion and be preserved as befits the birthplace of a president.

Presidential House Visit: The Pierce Manse

The Pierce Manse
Concord, New Hampshire

If I had to guess which president had a significant following other than the Rushmore set, Franklin Pierce would have been one of the last men to come to mind. Pierce has the unfortunate distinction of being one of the presidents who were in office shortly before Lincoln, whose towering greatness tends to diminish the accomplishments of his predecessors.

But in Concord, New Hampshire, Pierce holds a place of prominence that is unusual among the houses I have visited so far. Concerned citizens of Concord formed the Pierce Brigade in the 1970’s to save the Pierce Manse, the only home Franklin Pierce ever owned, from demolition during an urban renewal project. In order to accomplish this feat they had to physically move the house to a different location from where it originally stood. Those same people are still heavily involved in the running of the house today, and they formed the Pierce Brigade, which keeps the house in running order.

I was fortunate enough to be able to attend a lecture at the Pierce Manse given by Pierce biographer Peter A. Wallner. The focus of his talk was on three of the most significant friends of Pierce's life: Daniel Webster, Jefferson Davis, and Nathaniel Hawthorne. The talk was extremely informative as well as interesting; I had always associated Pierce with the depression and alcoholism that historians claim dominated his later life. Hearing about these relationships he had forged and kept for so long made him less a tragic historical figure and more of a man whose life had ups and downs just like everyone else's. That he managed to continue to be a true friend through very difficult times is a testament to his character, and speaks to the best part of a man who doesn't get much respect. 

The Northern Tour

Due to the response for the video of my Midwest Tour, I've created a video for my tour of the Presidential Houses of New England.

Please feel free to leave comments and let me know what you think!

You can also view a higher quality version on youtube here.

The Midwest Tour

I've gotten some comments from people who wanted to know exactly where I've been going on these trips. So I've posted a video that shows the route I took on my Midwest Tour to see presidential homes (with a quick pit stop at the Mark Twain House!) in late May.

Please feel free to leave comments and let me know what you think!

You can also view a higher quality version on youtube here.

Movie Review: Young Mr. Lincoln

Synopsis: The movie chronicles the early adulthood of Abraham Lincoln, following his journey from lowly store clerk to self-taught lawyer. It mostly focuses on his first big law case in which he defends two brothers accused of murdering a local ruffian.

Historical Accuracy:
This is a bit of a tough one to call. Although the plot is almost entirely fictionalized, many of the details are accurate enough that they balance out a bit. For example, the case that takes up the majority of the movie was made up for the purposes of the film, but the defense Lincoln used was from a famous case he defended. In any case, the plot is really unimportant in a movie like this, which was more interested in getting at Lincoln's character than getting the exact chronology of his life. Even so, you wouldn't want school kids to think this is gospel truth.
Grade: C+


Period Detail:
Unlike many other Hollywood films of the period, this one looks like it takes place in the correct time period. Little touches like Lincoln playing the Jew Harp and the parade of Revolutionary War veterans add nice bits of period flair. My only gripe was that the opening and closing music were songs from the Civil War era, which was still several decades away from the action of the film. I can see how they could be considered foreshadowing, but it still bothered me. Still, it was a good job overall.
Grade: A


Casting:
I could go on about all the supporting players in this movie and how they were great, but that would be missing the point. In order for this movie to work, they had to cast one person right, and that's Abraham Lincoln. Not only is Henry Fonda right for the role, he's perfect for it. Nobody else will have that kind of face that just seems to emanate goodness or a voice that sounds humble, soft, and sweet. Even under the (surprisingly realistic) makeup, Fonda shines and embodies Lincoln in a way that wraps myth and man together. 
Grade: A+


Quality of the Film:
Like many classic films, Young Mr. Lincoln is a little bit slower and little bit more cornball than what modern audiences are used to seeing. However, director John Ford injects a naturalism and a sense of integrity into the film that make it stand out above other movies. Not only is this an enjoyable movie, it's a great one.
Grade: A 

Update: I'm Back!

I'm alive!

I've spent the past few days pulling a Walden, staying in a remote location on a body of water with patchy internet and almost nonexistent electricity (if you're asking how electricity can be almost nonexistent, you've obviously never stayed in a cabin built before 1955). 

So what was I doing if I wasn't preparing blog posts? My activities over the past few days have included getting horrific sunburns, mosquito bites, and wasp stings, engaging in water sports, watching beautiful sunsets, and painting cabins. While most of these things are more fun than they sound, I'm glad to be back on schedule.


So stay tuned for more posts!

A Very Special Movie Review: Independence Day

President Pullman, off to save the world

In honor of July 4th, a very special movie post.


There are many aspects of Independence Day (1996) to love: the alien invasion storyline, a deranged Randy Quaid, Will Smith's first foray into science fiction, and a surprisingly ripped Jeff Goldblum, to name a few. But the reason I watch Independence Day whenever it comes on TV is because I believe Bill Pullman is the best president we've ever had. 


My love for Bill Pullman is well documented at this point, but this goes beyond even that. When I see Bill Pullman as President  Thomas J. Whitmore pick up the intercomm and address a group of fighter pilots staging an attack on the alien mothership, I settle in and prepare to feel some patriotic fervor. He speaks eloquently and with conviction about the imminent destruction facing them, laying out the difficulty of their mission without getting too depressing. Then he rallies the troops with a final call to action that will mean independence not only for America, but for the rest of the world as well.


The speech pretty obviously plays into many Americans' love of being the saviors of the world, but it's still effective, mostly because Pullman plays it straight and adds an air of desperation to his performance. He knows it's a crazy plan, but it's the only plan they've got. 


President Pullman (which I will call him henceforth because President Whitmore just sounds wrong) doesn't just talk a good game, he puts his previous combat fighting to use and joins his men in the skies to take down the invading alien forces. He's the George Washington of the movie presidents, leading by example and being generally awesome.


Plus, he looks like Bill Pullman, which is a definite bonus. 

Presidential House Visit: Chester A. Arthur Birthplace

Chester A. Arthur Birthplace
Fairfield, Vermont

With all the controversy surrounding President Obama's birth certificate, most people forgot that this is not the first time this has happened. In the late 19th century, there were many people utterly convinced that Chester A. Arthur was born, not in Fairfield, Vermont, but fifteen miles north in Canada. 

Stone marker commemorating site of the original home
(or is it?)

But if you take the family Bible at its word, Arthur was born on American soil. Regardless of the exact spot, we can be fairly sure it looked something like the replica that stands in Fairfield today, which was modest even for its day. His father was an itinerant preacher, and the family moved around quite a bit when Arthur was a child. 

Without the controversy of his mysterious origins, Chester A. Arthur is one of those presidents most people remember as the guys in the middle with funny facial hair. In reality, Arthur was a political hack for much of his career, and was chosen to be Garfield's running mate so he would deliver New York to the Republican cause. Arthur's work in the New York political machine is mentioned in the museum inside the Arthur birthplace, although our guide pointed out, it is often covered by a door, which was something we all got a good laugh out of.

Panel about Arthur's political career,
cleverly hidden behind a door

After Garfield's assassination, Arthur was a changed man. He passed the Pendleton Civil Service Act, which fought against the very corruption he once practiced himself. He did not want to be president and he did not run for re-election, but he made the best of a difficult situation, and actually accomplished something of note.

Also, I heard he was from Canada. Eh.

View from the home

Movie Review: Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter

Synopsis: Young Abraham Lincoln (Ben Walker) is out to avenge the death of his mother when he discovers she was in fact murdered by vampires. He is trained by a mysterious man (Dominic Cooper) in the skills he needs to kill vampires, as well as the equipment (a silver plated ax). Henry charges Abraham to kill the vampires he finds, and also warns him not to create any attachments. When Abraham marries the vivacious Mary Todd (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), a rift is created between Lincoln and his teacher, and Lincoln begins to get involved in politics as a way to stop vampires, who use slaves as a food source. He faces off against the head vampire Adam (Rufus Sewell) and his cronies along the way, only to meet them again after he becomes president. Can Lincoln stop the vampires from destroying the Union? Can he still wield his ax with the skill of a homicidal majorette?


Historical Accuracy:
With a name like Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter, I didn't expect much in terms of historical accuracy from this movie. That being said, even if you edited out the vampires, this movie was riddled with inaccuracies. I found myself thinking: what about Lincoln's older sister Sarah? Why is everyone clapping when the Gettysburg Address was poorly received? Ultimately, these critiques seem nitpicky considering the main goal of the movie, but it was distracting for me.
Grade: C


Period Detail:
In a movie like this, the sets and costumes are the straight men that make the premise funny. In general, they do a good job of setting the scene without distracting from the action, with one exception. The one lady vampire was riding in around in pants, which bothered me since a woman walking around in pants at that time would have at least raised a few eyebrows. Still, overall, it was a fine job.
Grade: B+


Casting:
Ben Walker is no Henry Fonda, but he does a good job playing Lincoln through different periods of his life. Dominic Cooper gives Henry some flair, but Rufus Sewell really steals the show as Adam, playing up his natural creepiness for all its worth. The weak link is Mary Elizabeth Winstead, whose Mary Todd is a bit too modern, but she improves as the movie progresses. All in all, a fine job by the cast.
Grade: A-


Quality of the Film:
I did not have high expectations for this movie, but I was very pleasantly surprised. It's not exactly high art, but it is a lot of fun. 
Grade: B

Presidential House Visit: Calvin Coolidge Birthplace

Calvin Coolidge has been described as our quietest president. Nicknamed "Silent Cal," Coolidge left behind him a wake of humorous anecdotes describing his total unwillingness to string together a few sentences. His reserve has made him into something of a comic historical figure.

Historic Plymouth, Vermont

Seeing the town where Coolidge was born and raised, it's not difficult to figure out where that reserve came from. In a small farming community like Plymouth, Vermont, words are cheap. Work was valued above small talk, and Calvin Coolidge learned from the best. His father, Colonel John Coolidge, was a farmer, post master, constable, general store owner, and notary, as well as a skilled woodworker, and just as silent as his son. After the deaths of young Calvin's mother and little sister, father and son became very close, and the bond lasted throughout both of their lives.

Calvin Coolidge Birthplace

John Calvin Coolidge was born on July 4, 1872 in the small house behind the general store where his father worked. The family later moved across the street into a larger house where Calvin would regularly return for the rest of his life.

Room where Coolidge was born

Hallway leading to the General Store from the house

The Coolidge Homestead

Carriage made by Coolidge's father, Colonel John Coolidge

Quilt and small chest of drawers made by Calvin Coolidge
as a boy

Most notably, it was in the Coolidge homestead that John Coolidge administered the Oath of Office to his son after the sudden death of President Harding. The Coolidges stayed in Plymouth during the summer of 1924 after their son Calvin Jr. died at the tender age of sixteen when a blister on his foot became infected. Coolidge and his wife Grace were devastated, so they went to Plymouth for a much needed vacation. Then President Coolidge did the same farm tasks he did as a boy, pitching hay and helping his father with the farm.

I could see why the President would want to return home after such a terrible tragedy. Plymouth can best be summed up by the word wholesome. The air is fresh, the trees are green, and the mountains seem to reach up out of the earth to fold you in their embrace. There is a neat orderliness to the town that I imagine was of great comfort to Coolidge and his grieving family. 

Room where Colonel Coolidge administered the Oath of
Office to his son

Church where the Coolidges worshipped

Like its most famous son, Plymouth is quiet, but the silent landscape has an eloquence that can heal. I confess I found it difficult to leave; I felt a little healthier, a little happier, and little more clear headed just for breathing in the mountain air. I imagine Coolidge felt the same, although he may not have said it aloud.

The view from Plymouth

Presidential House Visit: Spiegel Grove

Spiegel Grove, Home of Rutherford B. Hayes
Fremont, Ohio

Part of the joy of this journey has been discovering the unlikely awesomeness of obscure presidents. The Rutherford B. Hayes Home is an excellent example. My knowledge of Hayes was limited and narrow, so I didn't have many expectations when I arrived at his house not too far outside Toledo. From the outside the house looks like a decent sized brick home with a side front porch.


Walking inside the house was a revelation. For one thing, it's huge; the ceilings are high, the rooms are large, and the staircase was breathtaking in both size and beauty. The house was full of beautiful woodworking  done by local craftsmen using trees felled on the property. 

Eagle doorknocker

Hayes was very involved in the building of his house, and he specifically asked for a wide front porch, because he believed a narrow porch was as useless as no porch at all (a man after my own heart). The home was primarily a space for his family, and he wanted it to be functional as well as beautiful.

Hayes certainly accomplished his mission, because his house was the most beautiful one on the tour so far. Spacious and light, grand without being remote, Spiegel Grove was a place you could imagine both raising a family and entertaining important guests. 

Wide front porch of Spiegel Grove

Perhaps most impressively, the house is still used by locals today. In the front yard, there was a group of young men playing croquet just as the Hayes's would have done, although they probably wouldn't have worn t-shirts and shorts. In the backyard, people were camped out to watch an old-fashioned baseball game on a pleasant weekend afternoon. 

The presence of regular folks enjoying their afternoon seemed to create a connection between past and present. Because you can't touch anything or stray off the carpets in historical homes, there can be a sense of disconnect between a visitor and the past generations who used the house. It speaks to Hayes's character that his home feels welcoming, personal, and functional even all these years later. I think the gentlemen playing baseball would agree. 

 

Old fashioned baseball game on the grounds

Gravesite of Rutherford B. Hayes