Our Road Trip to New England (Part III)

We left Plymouth, MA to travel 40 miles in heavy traffic to Boston, MA. Our very expensive, ordinary hotel chain was in Cambridge, MA, close to the metro. This is what happens to prices in a metropolitan area that houses the famous Harvard and there is a game in town. There was a sea of orange on the metro and in Boston for that night’s game.

We wanted to follow the Freedom Trail from Boston Common around downtown Boston to the Navy shipyard, across the river to Charlestown, a considerable distance on foot, 2.5 miles (4 km) as the crow flies, following a red brick line marked in the pavement, the Freedom Trail. Unfortunately, the 2.5 miles turned into 9 miles, according to my Fitbit, as we had to navigate the crowds and the streets that never truly run in a straight line.

The red bricks or red paint on pavement starts in Boston Common, downtown Boston, not far from City Hall topped with its golden and highly glittering dome, to Bunker Hill Monument in Charlestown. The stops along the trail include ground markers, such as that for the Boston Massacre, three graveyards, notable churches and buildings, and a historic naval frigate.

The Freedom Trail route has been around since 1953, conceived and promoted by a local journalist in 1951. At the time, 40,000 visitors were visiting the trail annually. It spans sixteen historical sites of importance to the Revolutionary war but excludes the Boston Tea Party and the narrative about it or about the Liberty Tree. There is a separate museum in town dedicated to the Boston Tea Party which is not included on the Freedom Trail.

We were excited to be in the town that gave birth to the American Revolution and enabled the colonies to throw away the shackles of the English crown by protesting in the Boston harbor in the now famous Boston Tea Party.

Churches and the Old South Meeting House, the Old State House, and Paul Revere House charge a $5 admission. Boston National Historical Park and a few NGOs and foundations oversee the Freedom Trail.

On the first floor of Faneuil Hall there is a visitor’s center which documents the route. The sixteen sites along the Freedom Trail, from south to north, are:

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Boston Common (America’s oldest public park; it was beautifully enhanced by the fall foliage turning all shades of orange and magenta and the dogs and frisbees; this park had been used since 1635 for British militia training ground, public hangings, duels, public celebrations and public speeches)

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Massachusetts State House (completed in January 1798, at a cost of $133,333, five times the budget; the dome was originally wood, then Paul Revere & Sons was commissioned in 1802 to cover it in copper to prevent leakage, and finally gilded with 23-karat gold leaf in 1874; it is the oldest building on Beacon Hill and now the seat of Massachusetts state government)

-          Park Street Church (founded in 1809 and located on Brimstone Corner, a reference to fiery speeches but also the gun powder that was stored in the crypt during the war of 1812; My Country ‘Tis of Thee was first sung on the church steps)

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Granary Burying Ground (named so because of its proximity to Boston’s first granary; it is the resting place of many Bostonians such as John Hancock, Samuel Adams, eight governors, the five Boston Massacre victims, Paul Revere, Ben Franklin’s parents, Peter Faneuil, and allegedly the writer of Mother Goose)

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King’s Chapel and King’s Chapel Burying Ground (in 1686 King James II seized land and built the first Anglican church in the colonies; when the wooden structure proved too small for the congregation, a Georgian chapel was built around the original one; slaves sat in the rear gallery on the cemetery side of the chapel and condemned prisoners sat to the right before being hanged on the Common; King’s Chapel became the first Unitarian Church in America in 1785; governor’s pew was used by President Washington on his 1789 visit to Boston; the first cemetery is to the left of the chapel and contains graves of governors, William Dawes who also made the ride to Lexington with Paul Revere, the Mary Chilton, believed to be the first woman to step off the Mayflower)

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Boston Latin School site with the statue of Benjamin Franklin (embedded in the sidewalk is a plaque commemorating the site of the first public school in the U.S., 1635, in front of the old city hall; alumni of this school were Ben Franklin, John Hancock, Samuel Adams, Charles Bulfinch, and Ralph Waldo Emerson; the school still exists today, with four years of Latin still required; girls were not admitted until 1972)

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Old Corner Bookstore (the building used to be the home of Anne Hutchinson, banished from Boston in 1638 for her “unorthodox” religious views; became a literary center and a publishing house for many famous writers; the liberal Atlantic Monthly was originally published here;

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Old South Meeting House (second oldest church in Boston built in 1729; used for public meetings when “the angry crowds outgrew Faneuil Hall;” the most famous meeting was on December 16, 1773, when a crowd of 5,000 gathered to protest the tax on tea; it was the start of the Boston Tea Party; a notable member was the first black American published poet, Phillis Wheatley; her original work is on display)

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Old State House Museum (built in 1713, it is the oldest surviving public building in Boston, center for political and commercial life, similar to today’s Stock Exchange)

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Boston Massacre site (a ring of cobblestones adjacent to the Old State House commemorates the site where five men were killed in the clash between colonists and Redcoats)

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Faneuil Hall (meeting place and open-air market, a gift in 1742 by the wealthy merchant Peter Faneuil; all wars since 1812 have been debated here; it is nicknamed the Cradle of Liberty because of the impassionate speeches given here by Samuel Adams and James Otis; “it was here that Bostonians met to form their opposition to British authority;” women’s temperance movement and anti-slavery speeches took place here)

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Paul Revere House (built in 1680, 8 of his 16 children grew up in this home, his mother, his first wife, his second wife resided here; Revere started his midnight ride from here; he was an expert silversmith, a patriot, a copper manufacturer, engraver, and part-time dentist)

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Old North Church (Sexton Robert Newman hung two lanterns from this steeple on April 18, 1775, to signal that Paul Revere’s night ride began – it was considered the “spark that ignited the American Revolution;” this remarkable church is the oldest church building, with the first bells brought to the Colonies, the original eighteenth century brass chandeliers and clock, seventeenth century carved angels captured by a Colonial privateer; more than 1,000 people were laid to rest in the underground crypt)

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Copp’s Hill Burying Ground (largest colonial burying ground 10,000 plus since 1659, now only about 2,200 remain and the headstones have been moved from their location on the edge of all rows; Daniel Malcom, a member of the Sons of Liberty, Robert Newman, who hung the two lanterns are buried there and so is Edmund Hartt, the builder of the USS Constitution; being located on a bluff overlooking the Boston harbor, the British used the cemetery to aim their cannons on Charlestown during the Battle of Bunker Hill)

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USS Constitution (Nicknamed Ironside because cannon balls would bounce off her impenetrable hull during the War of 1812, USS Constitution was launched in Boston in 1797; it is the oldest commissioned warship afloat in the world; every time a cannon ball would bounce off her hull, the seaman would yell Huzzah! Her sides are made of iron! Today the ship is manned by active duty U.S. Navy crew and docked in Charlestown Navy Yard)

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Bunker Hill Monument (A 221-foot obelisk commemorates the bloodiest battles of the American Revolution which took place on June 17, 1775; Don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes was the battle cry of the ill-equipped Colonist soldiers)

On the beautiful morning we arrived by metro from Cambridge in Boston Common to start our Freedom Trail walk, a very large group of young people, dressed in strange outfits and offensive hats, were protesting in front of the Massachusetts State House for the “human right” to kill babies in the womb.

Boston Socialists had a booth in front of this protesting group, and they were accepting donations to their cause. The utterly confused girl, a Harvard student, manning the Boston Socialists booth attempted to tell me what kind of socialism they wanted – it was neither the socialism so many escaped from in Eastern Europe, nor the Scandinavian type of socialism many Americans believed to exist and salivated over everything free.  She was not quite sure what type they desired, and she listed a salad of things that we already have and had a hard time explaining, illustrating, or justifying her confused narrative. If she would have been in my class, I would have failed her.

I was truly overwhelmed and touched by the history surrounding us but, at the same time, I was shocked to see all the historical monuments and churches being defaced by Black Lives Matter posters and LGBTQ rainbow flags.

After we crossed the bridge, we made our way to the Charlestown Navy Yard to board the USS Constitution and the warship USS Cassin Young, a WWII era destroyer, decommissioned in 1960.  The sailors on board of both ships graciously described to visitors the different quarters and duties, while allowing us to go down all levels below deck.

After walking the Freedom Trail and downtown Boston all the way to Charlestown and Bunker Hill, we had covered 10 miles and we took the short ferry ride back to downtown Boston.

By the end of the day, we were so exhausted, we could not wait to get back to our hotel in Cambridge via the old and creaking green line metro with fascinating college student riders.

TO BE CONTINUED

Elitism and Arrogance

A few years ago, I was taking a small group of students on a ten day trip to Italy.  Fascinated by its rich history and archeological sites, the most inquisitive of my talented students were ready to try their language skills. Since our group was small, the tour organizer decided to merge us with another group in order to fill a large bus. It was simple economics; the cost would have been lower for everyone.

To my amazement and unpleasant surprise, the planned merger with a group from Boston was rejected by the school director who specifically asked in a lengthy letter that his students not be forced to ride across northern Italy with Mississippi students. The Bostonians were “elite students accompanied by highly trained and educated faculty and did not want their enlightening experience to be spoiled by country folk who were barely literate and did not wear shoes.” I was surprised that the tour operator actually shared the letter from the Boston school. Perhaps she was incensed by the tone as well. They were requesting a different bus, despite the additional $15,000 cost. In the end, we were paired with a nice group from Florida.

I was familiar with the arrogance of people from other parts of the country who felt superior and disdained Mississippians. I had encountered the self-importance numerous times at various conferences. As soon as pompous colleagues found out that we represented a Mississippi university, they automatically deducted IQ points from our intelligence and tried to avoid us at all costs. Rude remarks were made such as, “Oh, you’ve come a long way,” meant figuratively, to which I would respond, “Yes, we’ve flown a great distance to be here.”

Recently, a Virginia state Senator, to whom I offered help with education issues, said to me, “None of these people are going to take you seriously with 30 years of teaching experience in Mississippi!”

I’ve lived so long in the south, I consider myself a proud Mississippian, and it is my adopted state. Many outstanding scientists, innovators, artists, actors, musicians, writers, and famous TV personalities hailed from Mississippi. There is something about the soil, the simpler life, the down to earth goodness that breeds talent, kindness, generosity, and ingenuity. Southerners are hardy people who seldom complain – they roll up their sleeves when asked to rise to any occasion. They actually love their neighbors and help each other in times of dire need. Nobody feels so superior that they cannot share a ride with someone else.

The two groups stayed in the same hotels and followed the same tour with the same Italian guide. At some point, I knew that I would have the chance to speak to the director from Boston. I got my opportunity in Venice when we were boarding the water taxis for Piazza di San Marco.

I had explored the credentials of the school, the director, and the faculty member accompanying them and I was not particularly impressed. Our entire faculty in Mississippi held Ph.D. degrees in their respective fields. Our students, with ACT scores of 32-36 and a couple of perfect SAT scores, had consistently won national recognition in mathematics, science, and language competitions. But they were modest, happy, and salt of the earth children who adapted well in any situation.

The director introduced himself. We shook hands and I described our school. Before we parted, I informed him that we were better trained, educated, and did not mind riding with them on the bus, that his ignorance, prejudice, and superiority airs made him look foolish, petty, and wasteful. I don’t think I changed his opinion; he was the typical product of an expensive liberal elite education that makes them feel superior to the rest of the world.

I was so proud of my Mississippi students! They asked intelligent questions and gave good answers during the tour. The Bostonians avoided us like the plague and barely acknowledged our existence at breakfast time with a hello. It was painfully evident that northern elitism bred contempt for their fellow man although their rhetoric sounded so humanitarian and giving.

I’d like to tell those with prejudices about the south that we do wear nice shoes except on the beach or on a velvety field of grass, enjoying the sunshine. Although it was mid-March, I walked with my daughter and a few students to the beach in Lido and we took our shoes off – we wanted to feel the sand and the Adriatic Sea. It was still cold for sun-bathing but perfect for momentary feelings of joy to let the cold waves bathe our naked feet.