Naturally, as a history teacher it would be normal to do those things, but to me it has become sort of a weird and sick obsession. Sometimes I wonder if I could end up on one of those reality shows where people have the strange addictions. I don't think I'm that far gone, but then again, I did hear of a museum that reportedly held Lincoln's last bowel movement. Sadly, the place was closed down. One would think people would be beating down the doors to take a look, but I guess I'm wrong.
Regardless, there is a very real power that is in these places. Going to Antietam and walking through the fields that in 1862 were drenched in blood, one can't help but be moved by the experience. I will often find a quiet spot at these locations and just try to commune with the past. I must admit that sometimes it can be an eerie experience, becauseI can truly sense an almost psychic imprint where some of these things occurred.
Years ago, when I was in high school our teacher showed us a video about Emmett Till. Emmett was a 14 year old black boy from Chicago who went to spend the summer with relatives in Mississippi during the summer of 1955. Emmett broke one of the big rules of segregation by whistling at and supposedly talking fresh to a white woman. Emmett was kidnapped in the night, beaten and killed for his "crime". The two men, J.W. Milam and Roy Bryant were aquitted of the murder but later confessed in graphic detail later on to Emmett's death.
For years, the story stuck with me and I even had the chance to speak with Emmett's mother shortly before her death. She told me her side of the story and did not think Emmett intentionally whistled at Carolyn Bryant. She blamed it on a speech issue he had in which his word endings ended with a whistle sound, especially when he was nervous.
Last Christmas, I was on my way to Arkansas to visit my dad and of course the road trip took some unexpected turns through Mississippi. I felt drawn to the site of Bryants Grocery where the infamous whistle took place. The town of Money where the store is barely registers on a map. As I barrelled through the cold cotton fields, I wondered if I would ever find it, but just when I began to lose hope, I rounded a corner and there it was. The remains of Bryants Grocery is boarded up and it is covered with thick ivy. It stands like a lonely skeleton on a dusty road, quietly whispering its story to those who drive past. As I stood there for a while, I could imagine Emmett coming down the road with his cousins, not knowing that buying some candy would result in his death. I felt compelled to leave a small remembrance there and decided to leave a small poinsettia. Originally, it was intended for my mother's grave, but I figured she would have understood. As I placed the poinsettia down, I noticed a few small faded notes with quotes by Martin Luther King Jr. and other sentiments.
Going to these places, I feel intensely connected to the people and events. I challenge everyone to do the same. DisneyWorld and all those other touristy places are wonderful, but try and get off the main highway once in a while. Sometimes there are some powerful lessons and experiences to be had and you don't even need a Disney Fast Pass to see them.
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