The ending of the rebellion

Wednesday, July 25

The day was beautiful. My morning started with a tasty french toast and sausage breakfast (was this standard faire at a B&B?). I sat this time with two older couples, one from Ohio, and the other from another part of Virginia. The breakfast conversation was quite interesting. We talked of subjects like dairy farming (which the Ohio wife did for work) and organic milk and dairy cattle getting out during a wedding and having to round them up, fishing (the Virginian man was a marine biologist), music festival in western Virginia (where the Virginia couple were headed to see Alison Krauss), and getting mani/pedi's (that's what Dee did on the side), amongst other things. It was certainly interesting with all the different personalities. The Virginian husband had a comment for everything and thought himself quite funny, and sometimes his wife had to compete with him for the conversation. The other husband was much quieter and more logical while his wife was warm and friendly.

As I went upstairs to get my belongings together and leave, I overheard on of the wives say she wished she had been assertive enough to travel around on her own when she was younger. One of the teachers the night before had also said I was brave for doing it. I don't particularly think so. If you had asked me fifteen years ago if I'd do all this traveling on my own, I would have said no and never imagined it. But here is where I'd like explain my thinking on this. Am I brave? No. If I can drive around my own county or the county next door, then really, people are the same - in fact I'm finding they are the same world-wide. There are a lot of friendly people out there that would like to help a traveling stranger. I'm sure there are lots of people that would also like to take advantage of a traveling stranger, but this is where a little common sense helps guard you from that (in other words, don't be careless or make yourself a target - I've always been told people want the easy target...so I just make myself a difficult target and so far it's worked).

It all started about 8 years ago when I wanted to go to Europe but those that were willing to go with me couldn't go as long as I did, nor did they necessarily want to go all the places I did. The biggest cost was my plane ticket and the scariest part was flying across half the world. So, I figured if I was going to do this, I'd get in as much as I could because who knew when I'd be back. It was the best choice I could have ever made for myself, my confidence, my experience.

So fast forward several years and here I am traveling around the country, mostly by myself. The pros are these - you get to do what you want, when you want, at the pace you want, and for the price you want. It allows for reflection and self-discovery as well as, especially for this introvert, the ability to meet lots of people I'd never talk to if I had my own little group or friend with whom to speak. It allows for uninterrupted observation and solitude. I realize that much of this is treasured since I am an introvert. But, extroverts would just meet and talk with the myriad of other travelers. One never really has to be alone unless one chooses to be.

Of course, there are negatives. You are either alone or not in the pictures (I always am uncomfortable in pictures by myself unless I'm doing something stupid or goofy purposefully). There are amazing things that there is no one to share with nor anyone with whom to share the memories later. There is, of course, strength in numbers so I would be a little more willing to stay out later or explore certain places I may stay away from on my own. Costs of certain things are shared, which is always nice. And of course there is a character benefit to having to compromise on things. Companionship is always a nice thing to have as well, in my opinion.

So, I digress. I left my little English Tudor style mansion and headed for the last battlefield of the Civil War, Appomattox. The day was already feeling warm (but then because of the humidity it always feels warm to me). I paid my park entrance fee and was again impressed by the warm southern hospitality of the park rangers. I ran into my B&B mates from Ohio on my way in but outpaced them up to the visitor center. I watched a small description of the final battles between Lee and Grant and how Grant basically kept pushing Lee and his men farther and farther, until he had them surrounded and Lee surrendered at McLeans house.



I walked through the restored buildings and finally McLean's house where that historic moment of the surrender was signed between the two greatest generals of the war. It's hard to understand how a man who seems as great as Robert E. Lee or Thomas Jackson, and who were Christians, could fight for a side that represented the institution of slavery. It seems to me, in this 150th anniversary year of the Civil War, that it was such a black and white, clear issue. But that's just it, I'm 150 years later. I don't really know what it was like in their shoes. Nor was the war solely about slavery. In fact, for many it wasn't really about that. And Lincoln did not free northern slaves - the Emancipation proclamation only freed the slaves in the rebellious south. It did not impact the slave states in the Union. That does not happen until the 13th Amendment was passed.


Reading and continuously hearing about the quotes made by men such as Washington and Jefferson, both of whom were slave owners, but who did not believe it was a good system and would eventually tear our country apart. How to disentangle yourself and your fellow countrymen from a centuries old institution, as evil as it was, so integrated into the economy? Not to mention, those who grow up with it being the norm, have a harder time understanding the shock those of us experience not being exposed to it being the norm. Slavery was not invented with the colonies in the US or with white man. It has been around since the beginning of time and is a truly horrible consequence of the fall of man and the evilness of human nature.

In fact, it is sad to think about the facts of slavery today and that it is estimated there are currently more slaves in the world today, even though it is illegal world-wide, than there was during the time of the slave trade from Africa. We still need to be shocked and fight against it. It has not gone away. But we are desensitized to it ourselves and when we are not willing to pay more for a product that is assured to be fair trade, are we not much different than our ancestors 150 years ago? Where is our outrage at pimps who enslave women? Instead take the term and glorify it into something cool. We glorify music that promotes violence and abuse and hatred. But it's the norm, so we are okay with it.

Alright, I'll stop my philosophical ponderings and return to the description of my day. I left Appomattox and began the drive back to Monticello, hoping today would not be my third strike. With the sun out and shining, things looked a bit different. I noted again the difference in the landscape as I drew closer to Jefferson's home. The green is still pretty, but there is something about a dreary day than makes the green look a little prettier to me. The sun seemed to dull the leaves and highlight the brown a bit more. I don't know why, but this was my impression.

The parking lot was packed and I went to the farther parking area, so this concerned me about getting a ticket to get up to Monticello. I needed not to worry though, since I was by myself (another perk is that there is often a spot for one) they could get me into the very next tour. Not to mention I think the morning rush was dwindling but their cars remained in the parking lots though their tours had finished. I hopped onto the shuttle bus and they wound us up the hillside to the magnificent structure. The very polished docents briefly went over the rules for going into the house (they get 1,000-2000 visitors a day!). No pictures were allowed, which made me sad, although with the internet, I really can get whatever I want.

The reception hall was decorated with gifts from Native Americans as well as other artifacts from the Lewis and Clark expedition. The next room was the office for Jefferson's daughter who became the hostess for the house. It is amazing to think of the work this takes. We don't often think of these women as shrewd businesswomen, but I think they had to be. To run the staff and make sure the supplies, good, etc. were there as needed was not an easy job. The docent likened it to running a large bed and breakfast, and that is basically what it was.


Jefferson had an extensive library and knew seven different languages. In fact, after the attack on DC in the War of 1812, he had the largest library and gave it to Congress to rebuild theirs since it had been destroyed. His study area was filled with gadgets to help make life easier. The sitting room was lovely, and my favorite was the yellow room. I need to have a yellow room. I had thought about making my study a yellow room, but I ended up going more neutral and natural with it. But one day, maybe if I have a formal dining room, I need a yellow room with white crown molding.

We were taken into the guest room and I also love the idea of the alcove beds. If I ever get to design my own room, I think I would have a few of these. I decided I could be happy living in Monticello. Unfortunately, the chances of ever being able to purchase it are non-existent and the chances of trying to replicate it are probably close to equally being non-existent.

We were able to explore the dependents and the walkways, storerooms, wine cellar, etc. down below. Jefferson was smart to make sure that all of this was below so as to not interrupt the spectacular view from his mountain top home.


The gardens and orchards that surround the home are quite nice to explore as well. He was a highly intelligent man and it seems also a good business man. I did not realize he not only farmed but also produced nails and eventually added a textile mill.


I enjoyed the grounds for awhile and then decided instead of the shuttle ride, I would follow the path back down the hill to the visitor's center since it was only 2/3 of a mile. The first 1/3 led me to the graveyard that housed Jefferson's body as well as many family members. The last 1/3 was a lovely walk through the woods down a wide winding dirt path. No one else seemed to chose this way off the mountaintop (really, more of a hill, but they consider these mountains in the east).



I watched the short 17 minute movie and wandered through the gift shop before leaving Monticello trying to figure out what my next move would be. I had to return the rental car in less than five hours. I drove up the Carter Mountain Orchard, which was highly rated on TripAdvisor, but being a weekday, there wasn't much going on. No warm apple donuts...which had been my more pressing draw up the hillside. It was a nice view and I did buy a cup of peach donut cider for $.50, but I wasn't a huge fan.

I went back down the dusty dirt road after calculating the time it would take to Montpelier and deciding it would not be worth it and decided to spend time in historic downtown Charlottesville and then the University of Virginia. Now, looking back, I wish I had done Montpelier instead, but hindsight is 20/20. Downtown was nice, but nothing that exciting compared to what I had been seeing. There were a lot of eating choice, and my choice of the Whiskey Jar for dinner was a good one, if a very vinegary-tart choice. I had bought two cookies earlier from a little country store - molasses and a raspberry shortbread.



I parallel parked just in front of the famed rotunda of UVa. I was glad I had been prepared by reviews on TripAdvisor that it was all under construction. I meandered about the school a bit, looking at the perfectly designed brick buildings with white pediments and columns that looked, not surprisingly, a lot like Monticello since Jefferson helped design this university.



I drove out to the airport and returned my Red Ford Focus. The Afghani taxi driver was interesting to talk to since he had lived in Germany between Afghanistan and the US. I had plenty of time to talk too since he took backroads that had much few lights but felt to me like a longer route. But then, when watching the meter run up, I'm not sure if it was really longer or I just paid more attention. He seemed honest enough...but who knows.

I was an hour early to the train, but with my luggage, I didn't attempt to walk to a nearby restaurant. I waited in the train station until 8:40 when we were instructed to walk out to the platforms. I spoke with a lady who was on her way to visit a sister in Atlanta. She was a delightful older lady who had been a special ed teacher and had come out from Illinois.

I found my seat, settled in for the evening, and before too long took a dramamine since I was feeling the motion but not seeing the movement outside the pitch black windows. Sleep came quickly for my train trip to New Orleans!
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