Brian said, "Let's go to Washington DC," and I said, "Sure." That means its time for vacation photos! Yay!

Day 1 (June 27): Richmond, Virginia.

1. Stonewall Jackson Statue
2. Jefferson Davis Monument
3. Robert E. Lee Memorial
4. Hollywood Cemetery
5. Historic Tredegar
6. American Civil War Museum
7. Virginia State Capitol

Richmond was the capital of the Confederate States of America, and it has a bit of a split personality. On one hand, they worship George Mason and Thomas Jefferson and their Declarations of rights. On the other hand, they've got serious monuments to General Lee and Jefferson Davis. Highlights in Richmond include the capitol building (designed by Jefferson) and Hollywood Cemetery (final resting place of Generals George Picket and J.E.B. Stuart, Presidents James Monroe and John Tyler, and, or course, Jefferson Davis).

Day 2 (June 28): South side of the Washington Mall.

8. Smithsonian Castle
9. Smithsonian Sackler Gallery
10. Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum
11. Hirshhorn Museum

This happened to be the week the Air and Space Museum celebrated its 40th anniversary. The years are beginning to show. To their credit, they are making an effort at updating their exhibits, including a newly refurbished USS Enterprise model (which I must admit I found way, way cooler than the Apollo 11 control module and the Wright Flyer).

Day 3 (June 29): North and west side of the Washington Mall.

12. National Archives
13. National Gallery of Art
14. Smithsonian Museum of Natural History
15. Smithsonian National Museum of American History
16. National WWII Memorial
17. 56 Signers of the Declaration of Independence monument
18. Vietnam Veterans Memorial
19. Lincoln Memorial

What a disappointment the American History museum was. I remember loving it as a child, but it seems like most of what they have on display now was purchased from flea markets. I might as well have walked through my aunt's attic. On the other hand, the National Archives was even more awesome than I remember from 25 years ago. Its exhibits are truly historical and awe-inspiring.

That's a lot of sightseeing. My feet are tired. This tour will resume the day after tomorrow. Don't be late.

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Vacation Final Day: Road Trip

Brian works for a certain giant hotel conglomerate, so we thought we'd get a great rate staying in a hotel in North Charleston. Turns out he can't specify what kind of room he wants when he travels, so they tried to stick us with smoking. We politely declined.

That meant we had to find new digs somewhere else. This apparent fiasco turned out to be a boon. If you remember the first post in this series, you'll see we couldn't have been luckier in finding a room near Dairy Land.

We began the final day of our trip exploring this picturesque small town where it turns out the Tuskegee Airmen had received their final training during World War II.

Lest you think I'm just being a camera hog and that my big head is obscuring the full name of this glorious town, here's proof of what they put on their own trashcans.

Once Brian had finally had enough of Walter taking pictures of Walter, we hit the road. We chose to take the back roads home and drove through several small towns. You see the strangest things that way. Like this sign advertising a real restaurant in Bamberg, SC:

We drove through the practically deserted Blackville, SC and passed the Oliver Hardy Museum in Harlem, GA. We saw the smoldering ruin of the historic Sparta, GA courthouse that burned down mysteriously last August. Quite by accident, we found ourselves driving past Rock Hawk in Putnam County. Though both of us had visited Rock Hawk's bigger brother, Rock Eagle in Eatonton, neither of us had heard of Rock Hawk. So we dropped in for a look.

After climbing the observation tower, I'd love to tell you that I got some breathtaking pictures of an magnificent unexplained effigy, but my simple digital camera wasn't up to the task. You'd need a wide angle lens to take a picture that looks like anything other than a loose pile of rocks.

However, the Rock Hawk Effigy, Education Trails & Park contained much more than just the effigy itself. It was once the homestead of the slave-owning Little family, and they have two overgrown cemeteries hidden in the woods on the property. That was worth a brief hike through the tick-filled woods.

And that just about wraps up my vacation. I look forward to my next trip, wherever it might take me.

(Hopefully, it will take me back to Dairy Land.)

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Vacation Day 4: Charleston and Beaufort, SC

By day 4, Brian and I had visited almost everything we knew we wanted to see in Charleston, so we were looking for things a little off the more beaten paths. We decided to start the day by paying a visit to the only thing in Charleston that had lived through the American Revolution.

They estimate at the Angel Oak may be 400 years old. It looks it.

The thing that I wanted to do next was visit Magnolia Cemetery. Newnan's Oak Hill Cemetery is older, but Magnolia is much, much larger and, though I hate to say it, it's also much, much prettier. (What's with naming cemeteries after trees, anyway?)

Magnolia is adjacent to a complex of cemeteries, including St. Lawrence and the Lutheran's Bethany Cemetery filled with tombstones inscribed in German. The area is full of many stunning tributes to the dead.

Naturally, being a cemetery in Charleston, SC, it is chock full of monuments to dead Confederates. The men who died testing and running the world's first submarine to sink a ship, the H.L. Hunley, are all buried here (the ill-fated ship killed more Confederates than Yankees), as are many other C.S.A. officers, soldiers, and officials. There's even a monument to all the Germans who fought for the South.

As you can see, there are many spectacular monuments here, I couldn't stop snapping pictures. I took nearly 200. (Thank you digital camera technology!) Brian gave up trying to follow me and sat in his car playing with his smart phone. I tell you, kids today! Who'd rather look at digital pixels than fine statuary like these?

This cemetery is so big, there are even duplicate monuments. All three of these angels (watching over Patrick Darcy, Ellen Turner, and Micheal Shanahan respectively) are the same statue!

In a cemetery this size, the statuary is only part of the pleasure. There are a nearly endless variety of entertaining monuments. For example, C.S.A. Captain John C. Mitchell, who died during the Yankee siege of Fort Sumter in 1864, has his last words: "I willingly give my life for South Carolina. Oh! That I could have died for Ireland!" The tombstone for Corporal Allan Jackson explains that he survived being shot at the Battle of Fredericksburg only to die of Typhoid Fever in Richmond. And don't forget such great names as Harry Brotherhood and Dr. B.A. Muckenfuss. But my favorite tombstone of all:

After Brian finally dragged me from the cemeteries, we headed into downtown Charleston to visit the Charleston City Hall. Originally built as the Charleston branch of the Bank of the United States, it now houses the mayor's office and an absolutely stunning council chamber containing several original commissions of famous southerners like George Washington, Andrew Jackson, and John C. Calhoun. (Flash photography was prohibited, but I'm sure no pictures could do it justice.)

Looking for one more thing to see before turning in for the night, we drove an hour to Beaufort, SC. We got there just as the sun was setting, and barely had enough time to photograph the Hunting Island Lighthouse before they closed the park gates.

Given how little light there was, I think this picture came out really well.

One more day to document. More to come.

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Vacation Days 1 & 2: Charleston, South Carolina

The first day of my vacation was mostly a travel day. We got a late start and only had time for a brief orientation drive through Charleston before they closed the bridges. ("Bridges closed for maintenance," according to the local news. Nearly the whole town shuts down at 5PM, so I guess they figured anyone not out by sundown was getting what was coming to them.)

On the recommendation of my old friend Jason, we took dinner at Ye Olde Fashioned Cafe & Ice Cream. Their chili dog was worth the drive into South Carolina. Good call, Jason.

Tuesday morning, my traveling companion, Brian, and I set out to see some old stuff in historic downtown Charleston. And we found it!

For all the old buildings in town, the thing that stood out most was the presence of a telephone booth. They literally don't make these like they used to.

Of course, the town is chock full of history. We started in the Charleston Museum ("oldest museum in the United States") and worked our way south down Charleston's "museum mile." We didn't spend much money on admission on the historic houses because I spent all our time in church graveyards.

Desire Peronneau does not have the best tombstone at Circular Congregational Church, just the best tombstone in a picture I took. (The best overall tombstone belongs to "The mortal part of" Mary Smith, "Who after happily exemplifying the Conjugal and Maternal virtues for upwards of 37 Years Was fuddenly arrefted by the hand of Death to the no fmall grief of her numerous Relations and Friends" in 1795.)

Charles Town became Charleston in 1783. That didn't do much to help Mrs. Jackson, whose final resting place remains a mystery.

Quick history: Pinckney's opposition in those presidential elections were Thomas Jefferson and James Madison. Obviously, Pinckney lost both times. Badly. John Rutledge remains the only man ejected forcibly from the Supreme Court. John's brother, Ed, youngest signer of the Declaration of Independence, is buried in the only graveyard in town I didn't find the entrance to. I had to leave myself at least one reason to go back.

After the town closed on day 2, we trekked over to Sullivan's island to take a look at Fort Moultrie, the location of the battle that gave South Carolina its nickname and flag. But as it was after 5PM, the place was locked up tighter than a... well, a fort. Day three would give us a closer look at Charleston's military history when we took the boat to Fort Sumter.

More to come.

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Taken on Mother's Day while driving through the cemetery with my mother:

What? Doesn't everyone go for rides in the cemetery with their mother?

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"Why haven't you posted the pics of the cemeteries yet," Mother asked me yesterday.

"Because I didn't think anyone else would care about that," I replied. "That's the sort of thing only I find interesting."

"You're the only one who finds anything interesting about your blog," she said.

She's right. So here are some pics I took of the Georgia and Chattanooga National Cemeteries last month.

The Georgia National Cemetery is on top of a mountain in Canton. It opened in 2006 and has plenty of room, though judging by the number of tombstones it has picked up in just the last 7 years, it sadly might be full before I'm dead. It is beautiful and quiet and would be a great space for a picnic if the Veterans Administration allowed that sort of thing.

While I agree that cemeteries are not the place for littering (that's what the side of the highway is for), I think banning all "boisterous actions" takes it a bit far. I understand their reasoning, but I disagree. Maybe I'm an old-fashioned Victorian, but I think cemeteries should celebrate life, not death. I politely suggest that the VA should spend more time trying to heal the living and less time trying to police the dead.

If the Georgia National Cemetery seems like a beautiful place, it's got nothing on the Chattanooga National Cemetery just a few hours up the road. It's 139 years older, and has its monuments encircling a picturesque hill that overlooks the surrounding region. Among many other, it is the final resting place of the 8 Union soldiers executed as spies for their participation in the Great Locomotive Chase of 1862. As final resting places go, this one is hard to beat.

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This year, spring cleaning the yard turned up something no-so-new.

This unturned stone was found in the corner of the backyard underneath some dying cedar trees. It's a very nice granite marker, previously well hidden under years of accumulated mulch.

Our next door neighbor, who has lived in her current house for decades, thinks that "Johnny" was probably a toy poodle. She said Johnny's owner, the man who built the house I am currently living in, was a big, burly man, and she thought it ironic that he would carry a little poodle with him everywhere he went, like a little baby.

In my experience, I've learned big men tend to prefer little dogs. I'm not sure why. I guess if you're comfortable in your masculinity, you don't need pit bulls and Rottweilers to show the world how tough you are. Who's going to challenge Lou Ferrigno about carrying a Chihuahua around under his arm? No one, that's who.

My poodles have taken to sitting on Johnny's stone while they bark through the fence at the German Shepherd, Sadie, who lives next door. I guess that means that Johnny has a good final resting location. A quarter-century after dying, he's still got a piece of the action.

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One month ago today, my mother sprung into my room at the crack of noon and announced, "wake up! we're going someplace I've wanted to visit for years: Oakland Cemetery!" You can only imagine my delight.

An hour later we were standing in Atlanta's historic Oakland Cemetery, surrounded by dead people. The woman working the welcome center was wearing a sea foam green, Victorian-era crinoline dress as she discussed Civil War battlefields with a uniformed Atlanta police officer. It was a little surreal, like walking through a Tim Burton movie. I wasn't entirely sure I wasn't still dreaming.

Mom and I entertained ourselves with the $4 self-guided walking tour map. I initially made an effort to seek out all of the numbered "points of interest" on the map, but I soon discovered that the highlights on the map were easily noticeable without referencing the pamphlet. For example, the Confederate Obelisk, once the highest structure in the city, hardly needs to be on a map for it to be noticed.

The cemetery is chock full of interesting monuments in a stunningly diverse mixture of styles. I've been in a lot of cemeteries, but few are populated with so many distinctly unique monuments. Below is the Jewish section of the cemetery, where to no one's surprise, they don't waste much space. That's my mother, pondering whether the oldest graves are near the middle. We both hope so.

In some ways the cemetery feels more like a sculpture garden than a field full of corpses. These dead people had great taste, and I doubt that many people alive today would design such good looking final resting places. Certainly none of these statues were wearing wife-beaters and flip flops.

I should mention that shortly after we entered the cemetery, mother and I were passing the plot of former Georgia Governor Joseph E. Brown when we encountered an aged, well-dressed mourner. The polite man had traveled from Scotland to lay flowers at the grave of his wife who had passed away a year earlier. He and my mother struck up a conversation about her family's Scottish ancestry (clan Napier) and accidentally discovered that one of my mother's relatives from Newnan had delivered the eulogy at the woman's funeral. Even without the internet, it's a small world after all.

Besides Governor Brown, the cemetery holds the remains of many notables, including Bobby Jones, Margaret Mitchell, and Maynard Jackson, among many others. But you don't have to have been famous to be buried here. In the South, we're so gracious we'll let in whoever wants in....

Even those damn Yankeys.

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Most tombstones show the date of death. Many tombstones record the date of birth. But there aren't too many tombstones showing a third date.

This tombstone for Jennie Hardaway McBride, found in Newnan's historic Oak Hill cemetery, demanded a little research. And not because there are no oaks or hills anywhere in sight.

It turns out that "Jennie" isn't even Mrs. McBride's real name. Before she was Mrs. "Jennie" McBride, wife of Newnan merchant and Scotch-Irish society member William Cardwell McBride, she was Virgina Rebecca Hardaway, daughter of Isora Burch. In 1903, Isora Burch organized the local chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution, named in honor of her great-grandmother, Sarah Dickinson Simms. Jennie would eventually succeed her mother as regent for the DAR Sarah Dickinson chapter. But that doesn't solve the question of why she has three dates on her tombstone.

The death certificate for "Mrs. W. C. McBride" of 14 Robinson Street in Newnan, Ga, lists the cause of death at age 50 as "acute uremia." The internet tells me that uremia is typically caused by kidney failure. In this case it wasn't a surprise to anyone when she died; the certificate notes that she was diagnosed with "uremia" six months before it killed her. However, that still doesn't account for the third date on the tombstone.

The father of Mrs. McBride was Robert Henry Hardaway, descendant of a boy "kidnapped" onto a ship bound for America in 1685. It turns out that daddy also has 3 unusual dates on his grave: "December Twelfth, 1837, - 1869, February 11, 1905." Robert Hardaway was born in 1837 and died in 1905. So what did he do between those two dates? He stayed busy. For one thing, Hardaway was a Confederate States Army soldier in Company B of the 1st Georgia Calvary. For a time afterwards, he was a member of the Georgia State General Assembly. And he was also a partner in the merchant firm Hardaway & Hunter in Newnan where he met Isora Burch and was married on December 12, 1869! Ah, ha!

The historical record states that Jennie R. Hardaway was married on April 18, 1894. Mystery solved. At least two generations of the Hardaway family of Newnan liked to put their wedding dates on their tombstones. Who knows why, exactly, but if I had to guess, I'd suppose they died a little those days. They don't call spouses "balls and chains" for nothing. Marriage: it's a life sentence.

[For the record, Jennie Hardaway McBride shares a common ancestor with my mother. Sarah Dickinson Simms, Mrs. McBride's 2nd great-grandmother, was my mother's 4th great-grandmother, making her my 5th great-grandmother. What can I say? Newnan's kind of a small town.]

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Victoria was taken aback on a recent walk through the cemetery when she noticed this Confederate flag and marker for Dr. North. "Dr. North working for the South? Preposterous!" Ah, poodles. Will they never cease being amazed by the peculiar foibles of humanity?

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