On The Road Again (Part 1)

It is wonderful to be on the road again. The last fourteen months have taken their toll on everyone, and it was exciting to get back to doing something we enjoy so much. I think that many of us have a new appreciation for the things we had taken for granted:  travel, visiting off-the-beaten-path small towns and quirky sights, meeting up with and enjoying a hug from old friends.  

There is an ironic appropriateness in our first RV trip since the onset of the pandemic. Our travels took us to Mt. Airy, NC, the boyhood home of Andy Griffith and the inspiration for the iconic town of Mayberry, a simple slice of Americana.  “The Andy Griffith Show” depicted ordinary people in an ordinary small town in North Carolina, while completely ignoring Haight Ashbury, “the summer of love”, campus unrest, the Vietnam War and the chaos and turbulence of the 1960s.  Today, Mt. Airy offers a nostalgic opportunity to recapture what was perceived as a more innocent time.

Our destination was Mt. Airy in Surry County, NC, at the foot of the
Blue Ridge Mountains. Trees put the "blue" in the Blue Ridge
Mountains, from isoprene released into the atmosphere. 

Our first night out, a Friday, was spent in the small town of Leavenworth, Indiana, on the bank of the Ohio River, near the big turn in the river that the locals call Horseshoe Bend.  The RV park itself was very nice, with flat sites and extremely helpful folks.  Getting in was rather nerve-wracking. A curvy, narrow blacktop road, wide enough for only one vehicle, wound down a hill to the campground. Fortunately, we didn’t encounter any other vehicles trying to exit.  The view of the Ohio River, its banks teeming with wildflowers, was lovely. Dozens of yellow canaries flitted from trees to the ground and back, adding to the bucolic ambience. What a joy to be out on the road again.

The Ohio River, about 50 miles downstream from Louisville, KY.
This view is looking up-river toward Louisville. That's Kentucky
that you can see on the other bank of the river.

The following day took us out of Indiana, through northern Kentucky, and into West Virginia. The lush grass pastures of Kentucky gave way to vibrant greens of West Virginia forests in the first blush of spring.  That night, we camped in a KOA just outside the town of Milton, WV and experienced what was once typical and now caused a rush of excitement and a sense of “normalcy”. The KOA has two small lakes, one of which is a swimming lake, and it was full.  People were visiting, kids were riding bicycles, and – what fun – a little girl’s eighth birthday party was just starting as we arrived. It was so heartening to see cars pull up and kids tumble out, laughing and hugging each other. The guest of honor, with her vibrant red hair, turned cartwheels with her friends at the lake’s edge, played games on blankets spread out in front of parents in lawn chairs, and finished the party with cupcakes and s’mores made over the fire pit. It was uplifting to see them having such a good time. This child’s birthday party was the first unabashed, joyful event we had witnessed in over a year - - and it was a wonderful scene. 

The KOA at Milton, WV.  The campground was full on the Saturday
that we were there, with lots of families with kids. Everyone seemed
to be glad to get out and enjoy themselves after a difficult year

Travelling through West Virginia's lush green hills on an overcast Sunday morning

On Sunday, we arrived at Mayberry Campground just outside of Mt. Airy. After getting set up we texted our friends Jimmie and Susanne, whom we had not seen in two years, and they drove over from their home, just over a half-hour away. After the “social distancing” rules of the last year-and-a-half, a hug from old friends was special.  Jimmie and Susanne graciously offered to show us around the area, and we gratefully accepted.

Our site at Mayberry Campground at Mt. Airy. This was our first trip with the
new truck, and it drove beautifully and pulled the trailer with ease

Our introduction to the area started with a visit to the Andy Griffith Museum, located in the old Rockford Grade School, which Andy attended.  The museum houses a collection of costumes and props from The Andy Griffith Show, plus props, costumes and other memorabilia from Griffith’s other memorable role as attorney Ben Matlock and from his movies, the most famous of which is No Time For Sergeants. 

The statue of Andy and Opie going fishing was modeled after the
opening scene in the show, which played under the credits. Ron Howard
(Opie) later said that scene was actually filmed at a park in Los Angeles

In addition to the Andy Griffith Museum, the building houses the Andy Griffith Playhouse that hosts community theatre productions and touring performances.  In the lower level of the building is a smaller museum that features the story of Eng and Chang Bunker.  (They took the surname Bunker after emigrating to the United States.)  Born in 1811 in present-day Thailand, then called Siam, the conjoined brothers were brought to the United States in 1829 and were “exhibited” in circuses as curiosities.  Their fame was responsible for term “Siamese Twins” becoming synonymous with conjoined twins in general.  By 1845, the brothers, rich by the day’s standards from many years of touring, settled in Mt. Airy.

After their days with the Ringling Bros. Circus, Eng and Chang
married sisters from North Carolina, and the two couples had a total
of 21 children, despite the brothers being conjoined at the sternum

Diehard Andy Griffith fans can even spend a night or two at his boyhood home, where Griffith lived with his mother and father until he graduated from high school. Located at 711 E. Haymore Street, just seven-tenths of a mile from the museum and playhouse, the two-bedroom home is furnished in period-appropriate furnishings. The home is now owned and operated by the Hilton hotel chain.

Andy Griffith (June 1, 1926 - July 3, 2012)  lived in this house from adolescence
through his graduation from high school. Andy Griffith was his real birth name.
He never took a stage name throughout his movie and television career

Dinner on our first night in North Carolina was at The Depot Restaurant at Cody Creek, a lodge-like structure set in the shadows of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The atmosphere was relaxed, the menu extensive and delicious, and our dinner companions warm and welcoming.

The entrance and vestibule of The Depot restaurant near Mt. Airy, NC.
In addition to being a great restaurant, the place is a wedding venue
with a chapel and reception facilities 

Jimmie and Susanne insisted on acting as hosts and tour guides throughout our stay in Mt. Airy, and while we appreciated and enjoyed their company, we kind of thought we were taking advantage of their hospitality. Because of them, though, we did get to see and visit many places that we would probably have otherwise not found. A lovely ride along the Blue Ridge Parkway offered amazing vistas around every turn. A stop at the Moses H. Cone Memorial Park (Blue Ridge Parkway milepost 294) gave us insight into what it takes to maintain a 23-room, 13,795-square-foot one-hundred-twenty-year-old mansion.  Construction of textile magnet Moses Cone’s “summer retreat” was begun in September 1899 and completed in 1901.  The Cone Denim Company was a major supplier of material to Levi Strauss & Co. for nearly a century. In 1949, the 3,500-acre estate became part of the Blue Ridge Parkway Foundation, a unit of the National Park Service. 

In 1898, Moses Cone announced that he would build a home that would cost 100
times the price of an average home in the area. Expressed in today's dollars, that
would be over $600,000. Renovations to the exterior alone are estimated at $2.363
million, funded by the Blue Ridge Parkway Foundation and the National Park Service

Mike in front of the Moses Cone house 

Looking out over the mountains from the Green Mountain Overlook.
The spot where we are standing is 4,134 feet above sea level.

Additional stops included the Linn Cove Viaduct, an engineering marvel – a 1,243-foot-long concrete segmented bridge that snakes around Grandfather Mountain, and a visit to the original Mast General Store in Valle Crusis.  Dating back to 1909, the Mast Store was operated by the Mast family until the early 1970s. An ad from 1920 proclaimed that the store offered “goods for the living; coffins and caskets for the dead.”  Today, owners John and Cheryl Cooper no longer carry coffins and caskets, but do carry items that would have been important to the community over a century ago, as well as modern items and a large selection of souvenirs.  

Construction of the Blue Ridge Parkway began in 1935. The Linn Creek Viaduct 
was the final link in the project. Funded by Congress in 1979, the viaduct was
completed in 1983 at a cost of $10 million, but did not open to the public until 1987

The Mast General Store houses the community's post office, and still serves
up a 5 cent cup of coffee. In addition to the original store, there is a Mast
Store Annex just down the street.

The store offers cast iron cookware, "speckle ware", old-fashioned toys, and
even a pair of galluses (look it up) if you need them, plus barrels and barrels of
old-fashioned "penny" candy - unfortunately, no longer a penny.

Susanne, Jimmie, Mike and Yvonne. I look at this picture and the first
thing that comes to mind is Oliver Wendell Douglas from "Green Acres".

Mike and I drove to Jimmie and Susanne’s house one morning and were struck by the lovely hydrangea bush growing next to their deck. That morning we visited Stone Mountain State Park (we were aware of Stone Mountain, Georgia, but had no idea that North Carolina has its own Stone Mountain).  The massive 600-foot-tall granite dome is part of an estimated 25 square mile pluton, an igneous rock formed beneath the earth's surface by molten lava.  At the base of the dome is the Hutchinson Homestead. The site showcases life on a farm in the 19th century with a log cabin, blacksmith shop, corn crib, meat house and, in season, a garden.

In addition to this cabin, the mid-1800s Hutchison Homestead includes a
blacksmith shop, a meat smokehouse, a corn crib, and a barn. The house
is furnished and the outbuildings equipped with authentic pieces from the
original homestead.  

Stone Mountain is a dome of exposed granite rising over 600 feet above the surrounding
terrain. It is known for its barren sides and distinctive brown-gray color, and is a 
favorite of rock climbers. It was designated a National Landmark in May 1974

A short hike from the main park road brings you to Widow Creek Falls, one of four named falls in the park. The main waterfall is about 25 feet tall and utterly stunning.  What makes this waterfall even more remarkable is that it empties into a small pool, followed by cascades that serve as a natural waterslide. The cold water runs over smooth rocks into a shallow pool before it trickles down a babbling brook. It is common for visitors to wade in the pool and slide down the natural waterslide. 

Widow Creek Falls and the boulders at the base of the falls.
For a perspective on just how big these rocks are, there is a couple
seated at the top of the rocks, just below the canopy of the trees.

The day continued with a stop in North Wilkesboro to meet Jimmie and Susanne’s son, Jason, followed by a short drive across the Yadkin River to Wilkesboro for lunch in an authentic 1950s diner, owned and operated by the grandson of NASCAR legend Junior Johnson. After lunch was a visit to the Wilkes County Heritage Museum, located in the old county courthouse.  The museum was well done, with collections of interesting artifacts highlighting the cultural and economic history of the area, the founding of NASCAR with its roots in the moonshine business, and the growth and development of the nationwide Lowe’s Home Improvement chain, started in Wilkes County by one man with a hardware store and a dream.  Part of the museum complex includes the old jail out back of the courthouse, which once held Tom Dula, a former Confederate soldier who was arrested, convicted of and hanged for the murder of a local woman, Laura Foster.  Nearly 100 years after he was executed, the saga of Tom Dula (whose name was pronounced “Dooley” in the local dialect) was re-told in the Kingston Trio’s number one hit recording “Hang Down Your Head, Tom Dooley”.  Two more stops, first at the Eddy Merle Watson Garden of the Senses at Wilkes Community College and the second at an antique store – always a treat in my world – rounded out our day and we headed back to Jimmie and Susanne’s house to pick up our truck for the drive back to the RV campground.

The Wilkes County Courthouse was built in 1903. Since 2005, the Wilkes
Historical Museum has occupied the building.  The museum also operates
tours of the old Wilkes County jail, built in 1859.  

This is the Robert Cleveland home, probably the oldest dwelling in Wilkes
County. It was built between 1780 and 1790 by Revolutionary War veteran
Captain Robert Cleveland. It originally stood some 10 miles away,
and was moved to its present location in 1986.

     

Although Tom Dula was jailed in the Wilkes County Jail
(perhaps even in this cell) for the murder of Laura Foster,
he was tried, convicted and hanged for the murder (which
many believe he did not commit) in Statesville, NC.

One of Junior Johnson's early race cars. Robert Glen Johnson, Jr. was a bootlegger,
one of the founding fathers of NASCAR (he won 50 NASCAR races in the 50s and
60s before retiring in 1966) and a genuine folk hero in Wilkes County.  Johnson was
born in June 1931 and passed away in December 2019.

The Eddy Merle Watson Garden of the Senses features Braille-labeled plants and
trees, and sculptured music and alphabet walls. Merle Watson was a folk singer and
blues guitar artist best known for albums he recorded with his father, Doc Watson, who
was blind. Born in 1949, Merle died in a tractor accident in 1985; Doc died in 2012

The following morning, instead of the usual ritual of finding a laundromat either in town or at the campground, we tried out the new washer and dryer that we had installed in the trailer the previous fall.  Then off to meet our friends again, this time for lunch at another landmark.  Snappy Lunch has been serving up 5 cent bologna sandwiches and 10 cent hot dogs in the same location since 1923.  It is the only existing local business that was actually mentioned on The Andy Griffith Show.  In an early episode entitled “Andy the Matchmaker”, Andy suggested to Barney that they go down to the Snappy Lunch to get a bite to eat.  It was also in the 1960s that the owner began to perfect his signature creation, the World-Famous Pork Chop Sandwich. It has become a trademark meal for locals and visitors alike, and, of course, we had to try one.  While it is served in a variety of ways (all pretty messy) the “signature” version is a breaded and fried pork chop, served on a sandwich, topped with coleslaw and chili.  We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the business district of Mt. Airy (a.k.a. Mayberry) complete with Floyd's Barber Shop and Wally's Service Station, along with requisite t-shirt and souvenir shops, ice cream parlors and bakeries, and – lucky me – a couple of antique stores.

Snappy Lunch.  The building originally housed a general store that put in a lunch
counter to cater to the local workers. Supposedly, the restaurant got its name from
the demands of their clientele to get their lunch "and make it snappy."

Our final day in Mt. Airy started with a tour of the town and surrounding area in a vintage Ford police car like those used on the Andy Griffith Show. I say “those” because although Mayberry only ever had a single police car, the show’s creators got a new car from Ford each year. Our tour guide, Mark, was a font of fun facts and information about the town, the television show, and Andy Griffith’s early years in Mt. Airy.  The tour included the church that Griffith attended as a young man, his original home, the school he attended (now the playhouse and museum), and the statue of Andy and Opie walking with their fishing poles on their shoulders. The statue was based on the scene shown under the opening credits in every episode of the show.  Mark also took us to the largest open-faced granite quarry in the world, located on the outskirts of town. This incredible granite quarry is the reason for Mt. Airy’s nickname of “the Granite City."

You want a ride in the Mayberry Squad Car?  Get your hands up...

The Mt. Airy Granite Quarry is the largest open-faced granite quarry in the world,
encompassing some sixty surface acres. It has operated for 120 years and, literally,
only scratched the surface. Scientists estimate that the underground portion of
the rock that you can't see is 7 miles long, 1 mile wide, and 8,000 feet deep.

In the television show, Andy and Barney often referred to the town of Mount Pilot. Somebody was always “going up to Mount Pilot” for one reason or another. Well, Mount Pilot doesn’t really exist, but Pilot Mountain does, and that is the basis for the name of the fictional town of Mount Pilot.  We decided to visit Pilot Mountain after our squad car tour, so we met up with Jimmie and Susanne and off we went.  It is a relatively easy drive up the mountain to the park located near the summit, and the views of the Yadkin River Valley stretching out to the south and southwest are spectacular.

Looking out over the Yadkin River Valley from Pilot Mountain. The Yadkin River is
one of the longest rivers in North Carolina, at 215 miles in length. Several parts
of the river are impounded by dams for water, power and flood control.

The state park on Pilot Mountain is on the west side of the mountain, near the summit.
The east side of the mountain, which has been used as a landmark for thousands of
years, rises well above the level of the park, peaking at 2,421 feet above sea level.
 

Jimmie and Susanne at Pilot Mountain

Mountain laurel, also known as calico bush or spoonwood, is a flowering plant
that grows well in shade. There was a lot of it on Pilot Mountain, and it was beautiful

Our next stop was in the city of Winston-Salem, where we visited the original village of Old Salem, an historic district originally settled by the Moravian community in 1766. The Moravian Church, a Protestant denomination, was established in 1457 in the Kingdom of Bohemia and Moravia, now part of the Czech Republic.  Salem was to be the central town of a 98,985-acre tract named Wachovia.  Construction began in 1766 to build the central economic, religious and administrative center of the Wachovia tract. The outlying communities, eventually five in all - Bethabara, Bethania, Friedberg, Friedland, and Hope - were more rural and focused on agriculture.  Salem and most of the other communities were controlled by the church, which owned all property, and only leased land for construction. All people in the communities had to be members of the church and could be expelled from the town if they acted contrary to the community's regulations. 

The Moravians settled this town and named it Salem. In 1849, Forsyth County was
established and Salem was selected as the county seat. The Moravian community
did not want the seat of government in their town, and sold land some land to the north
for the new county seat, which was immediately named Winston; thus Winston-Salem

In the Marovian cemetery, men are buried in one section, women in another, and
children in yet another section. People are buried chronologically in the order in
which they die. The simple, recumbent headstones reflect the belief that all of
the dead are equal in the eyes of God.

Among other things, this area of North Carolina gave us NASCAR,
Lowe's Home Improvement Centers, and KRISPY KREME donuts

Dinner that evening at the Gondola Italian Restaurant gave us a final opportunity to say “thank you” and “so long” to our gracious hosts, who had shown us places that we otherwise would not have seen in the northwest corner of North Carolina.  So, that’s the story of our trip to Andy Griffith’s “Mayberry”, our visit with our good friends in Wilkes County, and after more than a year off the road, the chance to resume our Road Stories.

Keep in Touch...

This past year has been one of “loss” for so many people, from loss of businesses, to loss of jobs, to loss of dreams, to loss of lives.

E-mails have long kept me in touch with Kathe, a close friend from college. Recent correspondence with her included discussions about the pandemic and future travel plans, pets and family. On the evening of March 10, a mutual friend found Kathe on her couch with a bag of treats for her dog, Bree, still in her hand. The medical examiner said she had passed away from a coronary embolism.

It is odd that I cannot bring myself to use the word “died.” Perhaps because it seems too final, too definitive. Perhaps if I don’t say the word, it isn’t true, it isn’t real. Perhaps my dear friend will still be smiling and tossing out a sarcastically witty comment, as she was wont to do.

Linn Memorial United Methodist Church on the campus of our alma
mater, Central Methodist College (now University), Fayette, Missouri

Kathe and I became friends as freshmen in college. We both thrived in that environment, spouting insignificantly brilliant commentary on literature. I’m sure much of it was banal, but our Professors allowed us the dignity of letting us believe that we actually knew something…about literature or about life. I can recall arguing fervently about some minuscule interpretation of a writing in the classrooms of Classic Hall at Central Methodist College.  How many seventeen-year-olds have that much passion and conviction about their literary opinions?  Years later, Kathe gave me one of my all-time favorite books, West with the Night by Beryl Markham.  And yes, she was right about that book, too. It was marvelous.

Our small clique of college friends entertained ourselves in very low-keyed ways. With a student body of only 750, set on “100 acres of Christian atmosphere” (declared the brochure sent to parents) Central Methodist College and the town of Fayette were, indeed, low-keyed. One memorable evening a group of us stuffed ourselves in a car for a rare off-campus excursion. We drove to a nearby town to watch “Beach Party” movies (which, by that time, were already old) at the local drive-in theater from dusk to dawn. By 3:00 am, we were noticing and discussing which bikinis had already been worn in the previous movies. (In case you are wondering, a red bikini with white polka dots showed up most often in those movies.) It was funny and fun at the same time.

This the the group that I hung out with in college. Kathe is
second from the right, in orange coat. On the left, in the red
hood, is Denise, who sadly discovered that Kathe had died.

Upon leaving Central Methodist College, Kathe and I both ended up in Colorado for graduate school, she in Denver and I in Greely. We got to see each other occasionally, but neither of us had a car. In fact, Kathe did not get a drivers’ license for years. She simply did not care to drive. We kept in touch.

Kathe and me, Denver, October 1974, when both of us were in graduate school

Kathe loved Denver and remained there. Later, a mutual friend from Central Methodist, Denise, moved to the area as well. I moved to Minneapolis to enter a doctoral program, and later moved back to St. Louis. One evening I got a knock on my door, and a gentleman with government credentials wanted to talk to me. He told me that I had been given as a reference. My friend Kathe had applied for a position with the State Department, and this was part of the background check. I found it pretty impressive that she had made it to that stage; unfortunately, her quest for an appointment to the diplomatic corps was never fulfilled. Kathe later told me that she had been informed that the reason she was not hired was that she “thought too quickly on her feet.” Personally, I would have thought that in foreign service, that might have been a good attribute.

Kathe would go on to get a Juris Doctor (JD) degree and pass the Colorado bar to become a lawyer. Oddly, especially after the spirited discussions we had had during our undergraduate years, she confided to me that she never liked arguing in courtrooms.  We kept in touch.

One of the things that we shared was a love of carousels. On a trip with Kathe
back to her home in Denver, we stopped in Abilene to visit the C.W. Parker
Carousel, named one of Kansas Sampler Foundation's Eight Wonders of Kansas 

We both shared a passion for travel. One year the two of us planned a trip to the Galapagos Islands. It was a fascinating adventure. We had reading material and discussion groups about each island; the flora and fauna, indigenous species found there, and invasive species that were endangering each island.  My competitive college buddy had not lost her edge – each evening in the ship’s lounge was like a Jeopardy competition. We kept in touch.

Kathe periodically came back to Missouri to visit family, and as often as we could, we would meet for a visit and to share a meal. I travelled with her back to Colorado following one of those family visits one summer and got to see Denise after many years. A few days up in the mountains afforded us the opportunity to enjoy gorgeous scenery and have dinner in a unique restaurant and lodge that showcased thousands of keys hung from the ceiling.  We didn’t see each other for a long time after that visit, but we kept in touch.

Kathe with her niece, Dulcie, during one of her visits to family
in Missouri. We met them for breakfast one morning.

On March 7, I received what would turn out to be a final e-mail from Kathe. She told me she had gotten the single-shot Johnson & Johnson Covid vaccine the previous day. She also wrote about the bi-annual family reunion that she and her siblings had decided to cancel this summer, rescheduling it instead for 2022, for a variety of reasons. “The only upside” she said in a twist of irony “is that we now have plenty of time to ensure that the places we want to stay…will be available at the time of the reunion…”.  With the coming of spring and the protection afforded by her vaccination, Kathe was looking forward to getting out more and seeing friends. She wrote that she had bought a stack of books, and was trying to pace herself, but that she had already read five of the new novels. I’m glad she had a chance to read those five.

But now I can no longer keep in touch. I don’t get the chance to ask you what you thought of those books. I won’t have another chance to argue with you about minutia in some literary work.

As all pet lovers know, our pets are family. Kathe’s dog, Bree, was seriously ill and heavily medicated. Kathe had been hand-feeding her. The veterinarian said the kind thing to do, with Kathe gone, was to put Bree to sleep.

My heart breaks for the loss of my dear friend of more than fifty years. My prayers go out to Denise and JoAnn, her two “besties” in Colorado, as well as to all of Kathe’s family.  My dear friend, until we can keep in touch again, my vision of you is walking with Bree in Avalon, analyzing textual evidence with Professor Forderhase.

Rest well, my friend.

Sunset over the Pacific Ocean on one of the evenings
that Kathe and I were in the Galapagos Islands

Don’t cry for me, I am not gone.

My soul is at rest, my heart lives on.

Light a candle for me to see

and hold on to my memory,

but save your tears for I’m still here,

by your side, through the years.

                          ~ ~ Christy Ann Martine

P.S. Kathe would probably hate this remembrance. I can hear her now saying that “it is too sappy”, that “it needs more editing”, and “how are you going to work in your signature tag line, Road Stories?”

Roadmap of the Mind

Our blog has essentially been related to travel or travel-related topics, with the occasional personal story thrown in. With the Covid-19 pandemic, we, like most of the world, have had to limit our travel, and have essentially been staying home, except for trips to the grocery store and visits to my parents at their farm. 

And so, I have more and more turned to my source of balm for a weary soul - - books. I select a book, or sometimes, the book selects me. I retreat to my favorite yellow chair under the window where I snuggle in with a book that offers greater understanding of the world, or adventure, or insight to a particular topic, or just a calm retreat from the world. Sophie, the little white dog, perches on the back of my chair, with her front feet propped up on the window sill, watching and occasionally napping. Sophie searches our block while I, through my book, search the world - - she, looking to protect us from the dangers of mailmen, UPS drivers, or anybody that dares walk down the sidewalk in front of the house; I, looking for understanding, escape, adventure, or answers from the pages of my latest selection.

Between naps, Sophie watches and protects me
from the outside world while I read.

In early March, as the world recoiled from fear of the pandemic and reeled with the concept of imposed isolation, my effort was on trying to understand the bigger picture of man in a world over which he had little, if any, control. I selected Guns, Germs, and Steel (published 1997) by Jared Diamond to help me understand the interworking complexities of societal development. Somehow, statements such as “…the epidemic dies out for any of several reasons, such as being cured by modern medicine, or being stopped when everybody around has already been infected and either becomes immune or dies” (p. 208) is neither enlightening nor reassuring.  By page 401, I was amazed at the depth of the author’s research and the complexity of the undertaking to correlate, from ancient times to modern times, the relationship of science to politics to geography. Intriguing, but I was left with more questions than answers.

My next venture into understanding pandemics was John M. Barry’s The Great Influenza which considers scientific, political and societal history in his study of the causes and effects of the 1918 influenza pandemic. The edition I had was published in 2005; the original publication date was one year earlier. In his afterward, he stated “…it is almost physically impossible to produce, distribute, and administer hundreds of millions of doses, and possibly a billion or more, within six months after the emergence of a new pandemic virus. It is also likely that protection against a new virus will require two doses of vaccine, not the usual one.”  (p. 455) Mr. Barry also voiced concern over “…our reliance on companies overseas for fifty percent of our [vaccine] supply.” (p. 46) His comments, seventeen years ago, raised the question then, and it is echoed today:  Are we listening carefully enough to scientists to protect our future health and well-being? Apparently, the answer, at least back then, was “no”.

My grandfather in his WWI uniform.  The war claimed
almost 20 million lives: 9.7 million military and 10 million
civilians. The pandemic the following two years took almost
50 million lives worldwide - 2.5 times more than the war. 

Having digested two tomes on pandemics, I turned my attention to novels, and I decided to select books from the list of Pulitzer Prize winners to help understand the human condition. Josephine Johnson intrigued me. Although she was from Kirkwood, Missouri (a St. Louis suburb), I had never heard of her. As it turns out, she is also the youngest Pulitzer Prize recipient, having received her award in 1935 at the age of twenty-four.  Her prize-winning Now in November also happens to have been her first published novel.

The book feels very autobiographical to me. The novel chronicles a year in the life on a hard-scrabble farm during the dust-bowl era and the Great Depression. The family tries to eke out a living, isolated by geography, mired in poverty, and living in what today would be called a dysfunctional family unit. There are scenes reminiscent of stories that my father related to me that took place during his childhood during the Depression. I found the book immensely depressing but eloquently written, with “poetic” prose. Though reflecting the isolation of the 1930s, the novel also felt current in its mood and tenor. “Much of everything, it seemed afterward, was like the beginning – changing and so balanced between wind and sun that there was neither good nor evil that could be said to outweigh the other wholly. And then we felt we had come to something both treacherous and kind, which could be trusted only to be inconsistent…” (p. 7-8)

My dad is the child sitting on the tailgate of the wagon, on his way
to church. This picture would have been taken about 1935 or 1936.

My mom (in bib overalls) and her brother - my uncle - with
their parents, sometime in the mid-1930s.

When I was four years old, my parents took teaching jobs in the mountain community of Luna, New Mexico. Our small family lived in the “teacherage.” We were the only family in the area who were neither a part of the Mormon community nor Native Americans living on the Mescalero Apache Reservation.  That is the basis for the next Pulitzer Prize winner that I picked, The House Made of Dawn by N. Scott Momaday. This 1969 book chronicles a young Native American soldier who returns from World War II to his tribal homeland but finds himself “caught between two worlds.”

I found this author’s style difficult to read – which is not a derogatory comment about the author, only my inability to fully grasp all the strands of mystic storytelling and “psychic dislocation” and the land as sense of place. I did appreciate, and identified with, the landscape as an integral part of the narrative. I simply failed as a reader to pull all the threads together. I found myself getting lost in the narrative approach.

This is me, with my Boston Terrier, in front of
the school in Luna, NM in February 1957.

A "papoose" is a cradleboard for carrying a child. I still have the
papoose that Dorothy Cromwell made for me almost 65 years ago.

This picture happens to be Mesa Verde (Colorado) but there were 
Native American "pueblos" similar to this throughout New Mexico.

Yet another story that focused on location, isolation, and political upheaval was A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles. The book opens in 1922, five years after the Russian Revolution, and continues through 1954. The Bolsheviks are now in control of the country. Within the walls of the Metropol Hotel in Moscow, thirty-year-old Count Alexander Rostov finds himself under house arrest, living in an attic room of the grand old hotel. Since Mike and I had visited Moscow in 2018 and we had had the opportunity to view many of the landmarks referenced in the novel, I felt I had more of a glimpse into the setting. Towles has an uncanny ability to draw the reader into the characters’ lives in a mesmerizing way. I found the writing style lucid and I cared about the characters: “…didn’t he also exhibit an essential faith that by the smallest of one’s actions, one can restore some sense of order to the world?”  (p. 459)

The Metropol Hotel in Moscow, the setting for A Gentleman in Moscow.
Mike and I spent three days in Moscow in the spring of 2018 at the
beginning of our Moscow-to-St. Petersburg river cruise. 

This is the side of the Kremlin that faces Red Square. The building with
the green domed roof houses Vladimir Putin's office. The scaffolding
in Red Square was being erected in preparation for a rock concert.

Annunciation Cathedral, mentioned in A Gentleman in Moscow, is
one of several churches inside the walls of the Kremlin. Built over
centuries by various Tsars, many were looted during the Bolshevik
Revolution, but all have since been rebuilt.

The Bolshoi Theatre opened in January, 1825. Before the October
Revolution it was part of the Imperial Theaters of the Russian
Empire, along with the Maly Theater in Moscow and several
theaters in St. Petersburg.

Turning to tales of strong women with a sense of adventure, I picked up Vicki Constantine Croke’s biographical account of Ruth Harkness, a 1930s Manhattan socialite who transformed herself into a world-class trekker in order to capture a live giant panda along the border between China and Tibet. 

The Lady and the Panda is set against the backdrop of great tumult taking place in China as the Nationalists and the Communists vie for control; as provincial leaders shift allegiances; as tens of thousands of students demonstrate for or against the government; and as the young widow embarks on a quest that earlier cost her husband his life. Harkness entered the world of trekkers and explorers, a world where women were definitely not welcome. This stalwart pioneer succeeded in a time and place where many of lesser fortitude failed. “Nothing could tempt her away from the odyssey.” (p. 102)

Giant Panda in the Beijing Zoo. We visited China in 2004.

A view of the entrance to the Three Gorges from the deck of a
riverboat on the Yangtze River. The Three Gorges Dam was nearing
completion and the natural beauty of this area was threatened
to be inundated beneath the reservoir created by the dam.

Hiking the Great Wall, along with thousands of other
tourists, mostly Chinese. The Great Wall stretches 13,171
miles across the northern border of ancient China.

Bixi (or Bi Xi) is a figure from Chinese mythology.
He is one of nine sons of the Dragon King, and is
often depicted as a dragon with the shell of a turtle.
Rubbing his head is said to bring good luck.

The Terracotta Soldiers depict the armies of Qin Shi Huong, the first
Emperor of China. They were buried with him in 210-209 BC to protect
him in the afterlife. The roof over the site was erected by archeologists
to protect the site as excavation proceeded.

Close-up of some of the Terracotta Warriors. So far, archeologists
have unearthed some 8,000 soldiers over a 20 square mile area.
It is said that no two faces are identical, and that they may have
been modeled after real soldiers of the Emperor's army.

Of course, there were novels interspersed with these selections.  A retreat from reality to another time and place can be an enjoyable diversion that “light” mysteries create, where nefarious plots challenge the mind to untangle the clues and discover “who done it.”  Whether it is Marion Chesney (M. C.) Beaton’s quaint world of a Scottish hamlet; or Donna Leon’s picturesque, enduring city of Venice; or Elizabeth Peters’ mysterious archaeological sites of Egypt, reading expands the world beyond the walls of home.

Iona, a small island in the Inner Hebrides, off the west coast of Scotland.
Closer to home, parts of Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia, looks remarkably
like this, and it is no wonder that Scottish immigrants settled in the area.

The Valley of the Kings in Egypt, taken during a trip there
with my parents in 1988. Mike chose not to go on that
trip, and has regretted that decision ever since.
 

As a young adult, I travelled on several occasions with my parents in England. While visiting the Lake District in Cumbria one year, we “mailed ourselves” to the cottage once home to the delightful author Beatrix Potter. Yes, “mailed ourselves” - - we paid the parcel post price for the privilege of riding with the mail carrier in his truck. It was, of course, a very slow and inefficient way to travel. When he stopped for tea, we, too, enjoyed a “cup ‘a” and scones with clotted cream. We stopped at every residence. But it was a perspective that one seldom gets of the places that he or she visits; a chance to travel at a pace that allows the essence of the place to seep into one’s perspective.

The book The Art of Beatrix Potter with geographically organized text by Emily Zach, “…provides a visual tour of the areas in the British Isles that most influenced her work.” (overleaf).  I fondly remember paying a call to Hill Top Farm, where Jemima Puddle Duck, Squirrel Nutkin, and Peter Rabbit once dwelt.

A typical English cottage in the Lake District. Beatrix 
Potter published her first novel, The Tale of Peter Rabbit,
in 1902, and went on to publish more than twenty
additional books for young readers.

Our need to travel remains strong, even if it is through the pages of a book rather than by plane; seeing the world through an author’s eyes rather than through the windshield.

It is fine to reminisce, and I am glad we’ve had the opportunity to travel and allow these memories to exist in the first place. Yet, we look forward to new adventures. With that thought in mind, I scan the table of contents of Lonely Planet’s Where to Go When to start dreaming and planning future overseas journeys.

Chobe National Park, in Botswana, March 2014

Machu Picchu, Peru. In addition to seeing this spectacular
"lost" city, we got to go white-water rafting on the Urabamba
River. Rising in the Andes Mountains, the Urabamba forms part
of the headwaters of the Amazon, the world's longest river.

Mike at the Parthenon, Athens, Greece, in 1996.

On a visit to the Galapagos Islands with an old friend
from college. Charles Darwin visited here in 1835, and
his observations of Galapagos' species inspired his Theory
of Evolution. The archipelago is a province of Ecuador.

But since we signed up for Covid-19 shots more than a month ago – with still no indication of when the vaccine will be available in our area – I realistically pull out Backroads and Byways of Missouri to see if author Archie Satterfield has discovered any hidden gems locally.

Bollinger Mill, near Cape Girardeau, is a massive four-story mill that 
pre-dates the Civil War. Now a State Historical Site, visitors can still
observe corn being ground. The 140 foot covered bridge is the
oldest of four covered bridges still standing in the state.

So, until we can safely travel again, we can still discover pathways to understanding, follow avenues to adventure, or traverse expressways to escapism, and we can do it through books - the Roadmap of the Mind.  And when it is all behind us and life returns to normal (whatever that may be) and we can travel once again, we will get back to enjoying new adventures and exciting Road Stories.

One of the things I collect are these globe banks. My Catholic-school-educated
husband tells me they were banks in which kids saved their change to donate
to overseas missions. Appropriate, since one of the companies with whom we
have travelled, Overseas Adventure Travels (OAT) contributes large sums to
support schools and other charities in foreign countries.

P.S. In the interval since we wrote this blog, we’ve gotten our first injection of the Covid-19 vaccine, and our second shot is less than three weeks away. It feels like we've really turned a corner. It is time to begin planning new adventures. We look forward to seeing you out there.