Boston: 40th College Reunion

Yes, we started our vacation in Gettysburg and Philly, but our original intent was always to attend Steven's 40th College Reunion. After 40 years, his friend Hal (and fellow classmate) persuaded him he'd have fun. After 40 years, he promised everyone was mellow. Festivities started Thursday with a Red Sox game that we missed. Instead we had lunch with a colleague of mine from our Boston office and dinner with a former colleague of Steven's and her family at Legal Seafood at Boston Harbour. Not only was this where those colonists dumped a lot of tea, but Legal Seafood is a Boston institution and was a nostalgic outing for Steven. He remembers Legal Seafood from his undergraduate days. So it fit right in with the reunion theme.

Friday was perhaps the biggest reunion day. For us, it started with the class survey (we elected to skip breakfast and the morning run). Here we learned that most of Steven's classmates are "gliding" to retirement, that most use hair dye to cover the gray, and most get up in the middle of the night to pee. All very illuminating stuff.

Then it was off to Harvard Yard to assemble for the procession. Steven was unsure about this, as it wasn't really a *graduation* procession. But hell, why not. While waiting, I chatted up a staff member. Four hundred (400!) staff work in alumni relations and all staff are commandeered for this big weekend where 9,000 alumni and relations were in attendance!! Generally, the oldest alums go first in the procession. If you reach your 55th reunion, you can become part of the "Crimson Society" and thereafter come EVERY year, if health and spirit allow. The oldest alumni there was 101. By my calculation, that means he graduated in 1947! 1947 people! Now that's committment and good fortune.

Following the short procession we had an hour long program outdoors, under towering trees that gently dropped leaves and pollen on us. Then it was time for lunch. An army of alumni staff removed the thousands of folding chairs as we moved back to tents now filled with tables. Food trucks were everywhere. All meals included with our alumni fee. We made friends in line and ate well.

Then it was off to educational activities. We could choose from special interest group meetings or visit some campus museums. We chose the Collection of HIstorical Scientific Instruments. We were in luck. Our docent was a professor and I learned scientific instruments are really very fascinating.

It was here we saw Harvard's second cyclotron, built in 1947. (The first cyclotron was sent to Los Alamos for the Manhattan Project). Originally used for photon research, it was later discovered it could be used to zap human tumors. The first patient had an inoperable brain tumor and I'm happy to report the cyclotron saved his life.

And then there was the Grand Orrery, built by Joseph Pope of Boston between 1776 and 1786. It's a mechancial model of the solar system. The celestial dome is supported by bronze figures of Issac Newton, James Bowdoin (the governor of Massachusetts), and, wait for it, Benjamin Franklin. Paul Revere cast the figures. I can't say that the figure much resembles Dr. Franklin, but I appreciate he is next to Newton. He was, after all, America's foremost scientist at the time. I should add that Ben Franklin purchased many scientific instruments for the college, all now on display here.

Philadephia: Ben Franklin

Ben is big in Philly. His statue is on top of City Hall (see pictures above) and he has his own museum. His good reputation persists without the usual sullying other founding fathers have elicited. Perhaps because he was tangential to politics, not of politics. Benjamin Franklin, the polymath, is beloved.

We had time before our visit to Independence Hall to visit the Benjamin Franklin museum. It sits on the site of his rather large house in Philly, which now exists just in outline (see photo). His privy has been duly marked as well, which made me laugh. His print shop has also been preserved, but alas, was closed when we visited.

The Benjamin Franklin Museum, like the man, is fun. You descend downstairs to a highly interactive series of displays. With luck, there will be a horde of schoolchildren there making a lot of noise and having fun. We were in luck. I knew Ben had invented a better stove, bifocals, and did a lot of stuff with electricity.

What I didn't know was he also invented a musical instrument, the glass armonica. Glass bowls of descending sizes are nestled in a long row, then rotated. You play the instrument with wet fingers. Listen to Ken Burns' Glass Armonica video to hear the haunting sound. Ben would play this armonica for his guests. It was his favorite invention, and became all the rage in Europe. Even Mozart wrote music for it.

Of course, Ben is also known for his wit. He wrote under pseudonyms, a common practice of that time. But his pseudonyms are worthy of a comedian. See the list above. I'm just scratching the surface of Dr. Benjamin Franklin here. He's worthy of a life time of study.

Philadelphia: Independence National Historical Park

Wednesday was a Semiquincentennial day. Steven, Samuel and I got to see "the room where it happened." That is, the assembly room in Independence Hall where the Declaration of Independence was signed almost 250 years ago. To see this room, you have to go on a short park ranger tour, requiring a reservation snapped up at 5 pm on the dot the day before. Samuel has quick fingers, and snagged us a 2:20 time slot to see Independence Hall. I later learned the Hall was renamed "Independence" and refurbished in advance of Marquis de Lafayette's triumphant return to America in 1824. But in 1776, it was just the Pennsylvania State House. Trouble had been brewing with King George III for some time, and war between the colonies and England had erupted in April 1775. Delegates from the 13 colonies were in a panic. After King George rebuffed a few attempts at reconciliation, it was time to declare a split.

The "room where it happened" has been furnished with period furniture that is not original to the room. Except, except, the large chair at the front of the room. This is where George Washington sat well after the American Revolution ended. Why no other original furniture? Because just a year later, the British had invaded Philadelphia and commandered the room, burning all the furniture. (Delegates of course had fled the scene well before this happened.)

After also seeing the adjacent court room, called by our park ranger the "Orange Room," (yes, it's original color) we headed next door to Congress Hall. (Once you have your reservation for Independence Hall you enter the "security perimeter" and can visit other historic buildings within.)

Congress Hall housed the nascent Senate and House. Our energetic park ranger told us the whole story of politics back then (not so different from today - the press of the time accused George Washington of actually being a spy for the British!). We tromped up stairs to the very green room where the Senate assembled, and saw various meeting rooms, adorned with portraits of French nobility (the French after all helped us win the war).

Then on to the unexpected pleasure of the American Philosophical Society (APS) Museum. The APS was formed by Benjamin Franklin to further scientific study. Its headquarters is now a small museum displaying original prints of the Declaration of Independence.

After decades off display, for America's 250th Anniversary, Thomas Jefferson's edited draft ("fair copy") of the Declaration was on display. Barely legible, the ink Jefferson used is rotting the paper, and as it is displayed to the public, it is disintegrating before our eyes. I felt so privileged to see it with my own eyes. Jefferson's original version of the Declaration is much longer; it was cut by nearly a quarter, including Jefferson's tirade against slavery, "this ecrexable commerce," this piratical warfare," "a market where MEN should be bought and sold..."

John Dunlap of Philadelphia was able to print the Declaration as a single sheet on July 4th, the day the declaration was actually signed. This was the version read in public squares. Jacob Mordecai, who was there to hear it read, remarked, "The general impression which it produced was that of mixed joy and gloom." Neither copy had the signatures we have come to connect with the document. Next to that is one of 26 surviving copies of the Declaration distributed on Saturday July 6, 1776 in the Pennsylvania Evening Post. Price was "two coppers." The signed copy was kept safe as the official version, but not easily reproducible at the time.

This ended our loop within the "security perimeter," and we walked down the park to the modern building that holds the Liberty Bell. When we first arrived at Independence Park, the line was out the door, crowded with children on school break. But late in the afteroon we were able to waltz right in (after a security check of course). The history of the Liberty Bell, and its crack, is told in great detail. The bottom line is once that it cracked, it couldn't be repaired. Now it gets its own building. Just before we saw the bell, we listened to a fascinating presentation about Marquis de Lafayette, one of France's wealthiest men who came to America at the age of 19 to see if he could be a warrior. He was told the Americans would make him a general, and indeed that happened. He started off as George Washington's secretary at Valley Forge and rose up the ranks from there.

Valley Forge

Here's the brain dump. Valley Forge held a forge before it was occupied by 12,000 soldiers in 1777, hence the place name. The British burnt out Mr. Ewes' forge before turning on him and his men as he fled with what was left of the equipment. At the same time, Philadelphia had been occupied by the British and soon enough George Washington selected Valley Forge, a day's march from Philly (today, a 20 minute car ride) as the place to assemble his makeshift soldiers and wait out the winter.

They arrived in December 1777, after harvest, but in time to create a muddy mess everywhere. Washington stayed in a tent until his men (with accompanying wives and children in the rear), built 1,500 log "hutts," denuding the nearby forests and pulling up all the neighboring fences. Washington offered $100 to the soldier who could devise the best roof, and they went up in a uniform fashion, regiment by regiment.

Inside is a fireplace at one end, no windows, and bunkbeds against the wall, stacked three high. Officers' "hutts" were bigger, for just one to two officers, with real beds and some furniture. I tried my luck getting into the lower bunk of the enlisted. It was a pretzel maneuver. Younger Samuel managed the middle and top bunks. But they were all just wood planks. Sanitation was a problem. Smallpox, diptheria, influenza, and other nasty diseases, were rampant. Before Spring, 2,000 of the 12,000 had died. Food supplies were low. Soldiers often lived off of 500 calories a day, mostly consisting of "bread" smoked over a fire. Washington was a well respected leader and worked to improve the conditions of his soldiers. This included the first immunization campaign in America, against smallpox. This proved a lifesaver then and in the future.

With the "hutts" built, Washington rented a house as his headquarters. (Washington, by the way, did not accept any pay for himself, only that his expenses be met, for which he provided an exacting account.) He sheltered up to 25 people in this modest house, in the end building a separate wing in the back. He brought in young men to assist him, of good character, strong education and excellent handwriting. They include teenage Marquis de Lafayette, lately of France. Meanwhile Baron Von Steuben of Prussia joined the leadership, teaching farmers how to be soldiers. He developed a drill book, "The Blue Book" still used by the U.S. Army today. By Spring, farmers and merchants had become a unit of disciplined, trained soldiers. That was really the triumph of Valley Forge. Was the winter the harshest ever? No. Were any battles fought at Valley Forge? No. But it was the making of the Continental Army.

As Washington's headquarters were closed for renovations, we walked around the grounds and came upon a most excellent statue of Washington, crafted in 1788 and based on a face cast of Washington. His family declared it the most realistic of any portraits of the man. He is shown with a sword at his feet, a farmer's cane in his hand. He had finished the business of making a new nation and only wanted to return to private life. At this statue, an anonymous modern patriot had left a bouquet of flowers.

Lancaster County, PA: Amish and Mennonite country

Steven wanted to show me Lancaster County on the way to Philly. Well known for its Mennonite and Amish communities, we made a special stop in Bird-In-Hand (yes, that's the name of the town) for Amish/Mennonite specialties such as shoofly pie, apple streusel, cheese and even Amish butter.

Our store of choice was Bird-In-Hand Bake Shop, which has all these treats, but also Christian books, souvenirs, handmade birdhouses, flowers in hanging baskets, and a playground out back. My purchases were rung up on a modern cash register, complete with contactless pay, by an Amish woman in a blue dress, white apron and white cap.

The store was completely modern, except for the unusual sign above the door. I'm sure it's all Amish and no regular modern American was consulted on the wording! In front of the store were acres of open farmland. Down the road were quilt shops and furniture shops, all products created by hand.

While at Bird-in-Hand Bake Shop I picked up a handy book: 20 Most Asked Questions about the Amish and Mennonites. The cover advertises that is has sold more than 400,000 copies. There is a lot of interest in these communities that wear "plain" traditional garb, often eschew all things modern and digital (though practices vary), and ride around in horse drawn buggies. According to this helpful book the Mennonites were formed in protest of the Protestant Reformation in Europe in 1525 and were initially called Anabaptists, but later became known as Mennonites, after their leader Menno Simmons, a former Catholic priest. In 1693, Mennonite Jacob Ammon broke from the Mennonites, declaring they were not strict enough, and formed his own community, later known as the Amish. The communities now live side by side in Lancaster County. In general, it is the Amish that you will see in buggies, and less colorful clothes. But they are related in Christian faith, if not in practice.

Gettysburg Emporium

So where do you head if you want to be kitted out for a reenactment of the Gettysburg battle? Well, in Gettysburg, you head to the Gettysburg Emporium. A cadre of seamstresses are employed to make you look like you stepped out of 1863. I had to see for myself, and maybe even get a dress (even if just for Halloween).

The Emporium can meet all your 1863 clothing needs-shoes, hats, breeches, and for the lady nurses and town ladies, skirts, gowns, gloves, undergarments. Two ladies, re-enactors themselves, talked me through the whole set up. An authentically dressed lady of 2026 can spend $3,000 to look 1863. How so? The clothing is custom, and you need three billion undergarments to do it right. I couldn't decide between a day dress for the working woman (think plain calico head to toe) or a tea dress (much more flaboyant and pricey). Then I spied a brown silk wonder that was on consignment. So it was more 1880s, but it fit beautifully, was beautifully made, and 100% silk. I was sold. I just needed the three bone petticoat to get the 19th century big skirt vibe, and gloves of course. (A lady never showed too much skin.) I learned that the petticoats come in 2, 3 and 4 bone sizes, and I needed the 3 bone.

My lovely silk dress has a zipper in the back (less authentic) but still makes me feel like a 19th century lady. Note that enormous petticoat. A photo of it all assembled is coming soon.