HISTORY IN THE MAKING
In Virginia, the site of the first North American settlements by Europeans, history is being made every day. Or rather, remade.
This past weekend, as I predicted last weekend, I and my mother and my sisters aged nine and five headed south first on Route 1 -- aka Jefferson Davis highway -- to see George Washington's plantation at
Mount Vernon and then down I-95 to visit
Colonial Williamsburg.
Despite the presence of two mostly bored, nagging and unimpressed youngsters, I really did appreciate both stops. Herewith, a bullet-pointed recap of both visits:
Even by 20th century standards, 
Mount Vernon would be an awesome place to live -- okay, I would like electricity and an indoor toilet, but we're talking theoretical here.
The house is situated at the top of a hill along the western side of the Potomac with an incredible view overlooking the river and miles of (still) forested land on the opposite bank -- and he had a huge, covered back patio from which to enjoy it with a score or two (or even four) of his fellow patriots. The house itself is very large for its two-and-then-some stories, with some crazy paint jobs here and there, plus a totally awesome three-foot globe that has nothing mapped east of Japan or west of Virginia.
I didn't ask about whether he grew marijuana, but apparently Pfeiffer did on a previous visit. Apparently someone our age asks that question all the time. 
He was one, and they informed him that the hemp grown there had a very low THC count. You'd probably have to smoke a joint the size of a telephone pole to get high off his stash. Or maybe the size of one of the tree species Washington created. And those are all over the property.
Did you know George Washington basically invented central heating? It's true!
Plantation, slavery, I know. None of us are so lucky. Zing! Washington kept his slave's quarters heated. And so far as I know, he never impregnated his slaves. In fact, he never impregnated Martha, either. But he did extend that heating to those he kept as slaves -- their quarters were adjacent to the greenhouse, plus they could access the central mansion via a covered walkway. And then he set them free upon his death. What more do you want, huh?
As a kid, I think I was pretty morbid. But my nine-year-old sister may have me beat. The only thing she showed any real 
interest in was the tomb of George and Martha Washington. But her instincts were right -- the Washington family crypt is set against a low rising hill, hidden from the surrounds by short trees and manicured brush that damn well looked like the kind of place where I'd like to be buried.
Next up was Colonial Williamsburg, a few hundred miles down the road and for us a night's stay at the local Holiday Inn in between:
Before you even walk -- it's almost a mile -- out to the main colonial village -- which is pretty big -- you have the opportunity to see a 34-minute short called Williamsburg: The Story of a Patriot" starring a very pre-"Hawaii Five-O" Jack Lord, looking very much like a mid-century Ray Liotta. It's a bit dated, sure, but it holds your attention and features a number of the buildings you 
see out in the main village. It also bills itself as the "longest-running motion picture in history," or makes some such claim, though I somehow doubt Box Office Mojo bothers to count the take at Williamsburg.
Speaking of "the take," I bet CW (as I'll call it) makes bank. Just getting in for the day costs almost fifty bucks; they have more expensive deals stretching toward the three-figure mark. Plus, for a visitors' center it sure looks like an airport check-in lobby. Wide-screen monitors will do that.
If you decide to fork over the money at some point, you'll probably enjoy CW quite a bit. More so if you have even more money ready to hand over.
The area of Williamsburg that's been preserved and rebuilt as a tourist trap is damned fun to look at and wander around: the gigantic mansion the "governor" lived in; the mini-plantation owned by a now-forgotten Dead White Man, George Wythe; a cool-ass 18th century church with a yard that had tombstones sticking straight up out of the bricks; a "magazine" in the 
armory sense; a courthouse -- with both stocks and pillory for your S&M-influenced amusement; a jail, for the same; and a big town hall type place that originally burnt to the ground a century or two ago. Most of the buildings I mentioned are original, though.
Did you know that oxen yokes, if made from a solid piece of wood, can be useful for several hundred years? I do now, thanks to overhearing this guy who hung out in the middle of the main street for about five minutes.
I'm thankful I didn't grow up in the area, lest I may have been enlisted by the insidious CW as a young colonial drummer or fife-player for the several-times-daily parade that goes up the main strip. Poor kids. I wouldn't be surprised if upon turning 16 most catch the first train to NYC to star off-off-off-Broadway wearing the same outfits but end up obliged to end the show with a hand job.
A half-hour ride around the place in a carriage like 
the one at right -- I'm pretty sure that's the guy who drove ours -- costs $80 bucks. My mother paid for it anyway; my sisters wouldn't shut up until she agreed to it. But after two days of endless walking all around DC with some walking about NoVA and southern Virgina (SoVA?), I could use the respite. I have the blisters to prove it.
Did I mention that CW makes bank? (Or presumably does.) You can buy the same products at the Visitors Center as at several "marketplaces" throughout. It's a good thing I'm a big capitalism booster -- I could see someone with another philosophical point of view being very disillusioned.
Long story short: It's a historically-oriented version of Disneyland.
Look, I'm holding back a lot from my experiences at from both places. It's impossible to fully do them justice when I have to be at work at 6 a.m. tomorrow morning. But I hope you enjoyed.
posted by WWB at 10:45 PM |
