Spring of the year when old women remember travels of their youth. Ok, not poetry and I'm not thinking of war, just battlefields of wars gone by. Gettysburg, PA. 1970- Returning from our 2 week trip to Perris Island, SC to witness my brother graduating from Marine boot camp, we arrive in Gettysburg on a rainy, foggy morning. In a little country restaurant, place mats with blessings from different religions are printed, which I read while we wait. Praying before meals was common then, even in public places and this encouraged those who didn't know what to pray, I guess.
I had the back seat to myself, always a boon to traveling with children. Sometimes lonely, but I could look out the windows without hindrance. My mind soaked up the fruit orchards in gray rain and mist. I remember it was deemed too wet with poor visibility to view the battlefields. I also learned about Presidents retiring and not living in Washington, DC from Ike's home.
Last Sunday, I drove through the rain in Gettysburg and also got to see the countryside as we inched along a "blue detour." An emergency scene forced us off the beautiful 4 lane highway.
Yesterday, my daughter had a field trip to Gettysburg in bright sunshine. With sun exposure on her nose and cheeks she could only say it was lame. She wants to return to dig deeper. A promise is made to explore more. Maybe in the rain.
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