Eastward Ho!

The call of adventure had me antsy for the road again today.  I tried so hard to stay put and take care of domestic chores, but I just couldn't get my mind and heart off the need to go.  So my intrepid road warriors and I headed eastward for Hancock, MD.  It's a place I've seen Main Street as a passenger in someone else's car a handful of times so it seemed like a good jumping-off point to start today's explorations.

Photo from Hagerstown Magazine.
Today these rocks were covered in ice that looks like
a curtain of flat icicles.  The Rest Area is just around
the bend.

First, we had to pull off for a potty break at Sideling Hill.  All this time I thought it was just a good spot for a Rest Area... but it has a history.  There was a Civil War battle there on what's known as the Gettysburg Campaign.  I got the boys out to take care of their business.  They were so intoxicated by all the unfamiliar smells they almost forgot to get their legs lifted...  And then I went to take care of my need and saw the historic marker explaining more about the battle.  There's also a Vietnam Memorial I want to take time to explore one day and some of those pay-per-view binoculars that let you look out over the many layers of blue-tinted hillsides.

Just off Main Street in the center of Hancock, you'll find this
access point for the Rail Trail and a section of the Chesapeake
& Ohio Canal National Historical Park.  Looking uphill from
the driveway, you see St. Thomas Lutheran Church that was
used as an Army hospital during the Civil War. It was such
an important establishment to the Union Army that they
fortifications to surround it during the Confederate invasion.

Sideling Hill is only 30-some odd miles away but even at freeway speed, it felt like it took forever to get there!  Hancock is just a quick 8 miles further.  It marks the end of I-68/beginning of I-70.  We cruised down Main Street with me taking note of the many antique stores.  Oh for the time and money and place to put all the treasures I'm sure I could find!  Our first stop was a central access point to the Rail Trail built on the abandoned rail right of way which ran parallel to an even earlier mode of moving goods to market, the C&O Canal and its towpath for the men and animals that pulled the barges along.  193 miles of the Canal and towpath, running from Cumberland to Washington DC, are under the protection of the National Park System and known as the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal National Historical Park.

Hancock Visitor's Center,
Chesapeake & Ohio Canal National
Historical Park.

A bit farther up the road, you'll find this old mansion right on the bank of the Upper Potomac River that now serves as the Hancock Visitor's Center.  Parking was a bit far to leave the dogs in the car and the gate was only half-open so it was foot traffic only today.  And the dogs were so naughty that I wasn't about to walk them up there!  Everywhere I got them out of the car, they had no manners that are good... it was pull and strain and cry and circle around my legs like obnoxious little maniacs.  More than once I told them I didn't want them along on future adventures if this is how they're going to act.

Just about a mile past the Visitor's Center, there's a store that I've wanted to stop at as long as I've been in Maryland.  But I was always in a rush or I was the passenger and so it never happened until today.  I made a stop at the Blue Goose Market!  They have a fun selection of merchandise, local wines, gourmet canned goods, and their own bakery!  It's pricy.  But so worth the stop...  For a treat tonight, I picked up a caramel pecan sticky bun that's as big as my outstretched hand.

Entrance to the Blue Goose Market.  You can't tell from
my photo, but the flag in the background is huge.  From
the road, it looks as big as some houses!

For our final stop, I decided to make a short side-trip to see what's the big deal about Berkeley Springs.  The sign said it was only 8 miles into West Virginia... The claim to fame is the public baths.  I think they were once marketed as having some sort of healing properties because they are fed from warm mineral springs.  The town also hosts an International Water Tasting event.  I might just have to look into that more!  Again, I passed lots of antique shops and one with the windows full of handblown glass.  I also caught a glimpse of a giant cat's head painted on the side of an old house and a sign that said Cat Cafe and that you could adopt.  I think lunch with the felines is in order.

Warmer weather, a few dollars to spend, and an early start to the day... Hancock and Berkley Springs both deserve a deeper exploration!  And I think I'll get a sitter and leave the dogs home...

Where The Road Took Us

When I got up this morning, I felt in need of an adventure. This probably isn't the brightest move since every time I take Nelly out on the road I have a niggling worry if she'll make the trip or die somewhere along the way. But I did it anyway. I took the doggies and stopped for gas and then we went wherever the road took us. All my stops were unplanned but quite wonderful!

Somehow we ended up on Rt. 28 in Wiley Ford, WV. (Confession: I thought Wiley Ford was an auto/truck dealership the first time I saw the words in a newspaper but it's less car and more wading across the river kind of ford.) We followed this road as far as it goes. I stopped to check out the discount grocer that's out there and got couscous, salsa verde, canned beans, and some cheese that was on sale. We went on through Short Gap and other places with names that I'm sure must have stories like Hanging Rock and Loom. When we got to Romney, I drove around looking for a bathroom... Thank the Lord for the region's abundance of Sheetz! And instead of getting headed toward home, I made a wrong turn and we were on the way to Winchester, VA. It's a pretty drive, even on a day as dreary and gray and wet as this first of February. Sometime after crossing the Little Cacapon River, I found a place to turn around.

Photo courtesy of bridgehunter.com.
The John Blue Bridge crosses the South Branch of the Potomac River.
John Blue was an early settler in the area, arriving in 1725.

Even in the drizzling rain, I took the opportunity to stop at every historic marker (except the couple of them where it wasn't safe to pull over), thrift store, and interesting looking wide spot in the road! Right after we crossed the decidedly green John Blue Bridge I learned about the Civil War skirmishes fought over the railroad line at Camp Washington and the Wire Bridge Engagement.










We went by the places where even earlier forts stood... Fort Forman, Fort Sellers, Fort Ashby, and coming home, Fort Cumberland. Each has an interesting history that I'd never heard of before living here.

Photo courtesy of Potomac Eagle Facebook page.
Two of the engines that pull the Potomac Eagle Excursion
Train that runs from Wappacomo Station to Petersburg.

We kept passing brown tourist signs for an Excursion Train and finally went past Wappacomo Station where you could board the Potomac Eagle.

One of the markers I couldn't pull over to read more than the name, Oriskany Sand, marks a specific sandstone formation where more than a million cubic feet of gas has been produced.

It's marked California Pottery
but it reminded me, both in color
and shape, of some of the Homer Laughlin
china lines.  I'm using it as a spoon rest.
This is my 52 cent treasure from the
Augusta, WV Goodwill!

Coming homeward, a bathroom break was again making its need known... I pulled into a little strip mall in Augusta and thought maybe I can find one in Goodwill while I see if they have anything interesting.  They had something interesting... but it was the Burger King across the parking lot that saved the day!!



I saw lots of places today that beg for more exploration! Stonewall Jackson's headquarters, Indian Mound Cemetery (where we saw a gravestone with the captivating epitaph "Dead yet Speaketh"), and the site of Blue's Gap Battle are on the list.

Now, we are back and I've made Jambalaya for dinner (mental note: get Zatarain's next time!). Now to settle in for the night and plan for future adventures!

The Rock Piles of Appalachia

One of the more charming aspects of living in Appalachia are the stories. When I first heard John Denver sing that "...life is old there" (Country Roads, 1971) it was a truth I didn't have the means to appreciate. Yet. I'm learning that now through the sights and sounds and tastes and endless stories.

Everything has a story here... even the rock piles.

Most often the ones I see have a logical and evident explanation. They've been chiseled and then dry stacked as fences, retaining walls, foundations, stairs, road surfaces and structures. The early American settlers were surely not strangers to hard physical work. Think what it took to heft some of those stones into place even using cantalever!

A partially collapsed retaining wall. These are holding back terraces
which demarcate property lines on the downward side of a hill in
Mount Savage, MD.  If only it were mine... I would love to restore
this charming feature!

The old springhouse on the same property.  Time and neglect and [effective
though historically insensitive] rennovations have left it ravaged almost
beyond repair but how I would like to try...

You might be wondering what a "springhouse" is. I'm going to call it a necessity of both early American life and for those seeking a self-sufficient lifestyle not so tied to today's utility grid. The most basic purpose of a springhouse is to cover a spring with a simple, usually just one room, structure to keep the water clean and potable. It keeps out fallen leaves and animals that could introduce infectious bacteria to the water source. The cold water and stone construction keep a springhouse cool year round so it also provides refrigeration to store foods like cured meats, fruit, vegetables, and dairy products safely away from predators.

And then sometimes you randomly find a huge pile of stacked rocks out in the middle of the forest.  It's neat and ordered and shows intelligent design in its construction. It just doesn't make sense in context of its location. At least not with how the locale is used today. And since Appalachia has been continually populated by uncounted cultures for thousands of years we are left to speculate about the purpose these rocks served and any meanings attributed to them in the distant past. Couple that with a landscape that holds onto the secrets of what may hide deep within its volcanic ancient history...

This example is near Spruceton NY. I found it in this 2008 blogpost from
Rock Piles. They refer to them as cairns, which to me suggests
a burial site.  Perhaps?  It makes for a good story!

And there you have mystery and intrigue... essential ingredients to any good story!

Were these stones laid by some of America's first inhabitants? Perhaps they are altars of worship like The Book of Mormon describes... or trail markers, or defense structures in an ancient war, or hunting blinds maybe? Along with the equally mysterious stone circles (like Scotland's Stonehenge and the smaller less well known circles here in Appalachia) are they evidence of an ancient alien presence? Are they just stones cleared from the fields of a farm that has been reclaimed by nature? The answer, and the story, depends on who you ask!

I would say many of the less easily explained rock piles come from preparing a field for planting crops. Stones were removed to make it possible for the farmer to work his field and produce a crop. They were stacked somewhere out of the way. Most of us who grew up on or around farms or in families that gardened are familiar with the process and have likely spent some time "pickin' rock."  That familiarity tugs at the heartstrings... These rocks remind us that there's something both comforting and disturbing about the temporary nature of our time on Earth. This is work that's as important as it is fleeting... What once served as a family's livelihood is reduced to nothing more than a few tons of stone... and a mystery for future generations to wonder about.

Emmanuel Episcopal Church

Photo from website of Emmanuel Parish of the Episcopal Church

The Cumberland hilltop where Emmanuel Church now stands was originally the site of a trading post for the Ohio Company, who sold land to would be settlers and supported America’s westward expansion by selling them needed goods and offered a place to trade the things they produced.  It was also the cultural and social center of the community.  On Christmas Day in either 1778, or more likely 1749, the first Christian worship service in this region took place. It was led by Christopher Gist, known as a devout Anglican, who ran the trading post and is likely the origin of the current Church’s name, Emmanuel (meaning God is with us).

George Washington.
The center portrait by John Hancock Snubs courtesy of the New England Historical
Society is the familiar look we associate with George Washington,but the flanking
ones by James Peale that hang at Mt. Vernon may be more similar to how he would
have looked during his time in Cumberland

In 1754, a young George Washington, then employed as a surveyor for the Ohio Company and a Colonel in the Virginia Militia, brought troops to push the French out of territories claimed by the British Colonies. He failed.  And his surrender at Fort Necessity (about 50 miles away) was the impetus for the French and Indian War. In 1755 the British Army occupied the land and erected Fort Cumberland, named after the British Minister of War, to serve as logistical headquarters for the forces under General Edward Braddock.  At the time it was the largest military installation in North America.  Braddock’s expedition ended as a complete disaster with his defeat in the Battle of Monongahela but troops continued to be garrisoned at the fort under Colonel Washington’s leadership for the remainder of the war. Local settlers and soldiers met together at the Fort to hold church services, some of which were led by Colonel Washington when a Chaplain was not present.  It was last used as a military installation in October 1794 when President George Washington brought troops to suppress the Whiskey Rebellion.

Tunnel Below Emmanuel, Photo from website of
Emmanuel Parish of the Episcopal Church

One of the features of Fort Cumberland was a system of earthworks known today as The Tunnels.  The Tunnels, and a cabin that’s been moved to a city park, are all that visibly remains of the Fort. Originally these tunnels served as storage for perishable foods and gun powder and played a part in the Forts defense system.  Because the Fort was made of wood, it was highly vulnerable to attack and required out defenses ¼ mile to the Potomac and Will’s Creek that were accessed by trenches extending from below the Fort’s walls. 100 years later, the same tunnels and trenches became the way that escaping slaves got up under the Church to the safety of the Underground Railroad station here.

In the early 1850’s a young escaping slave named Samuel Denson arrived from Mississippi and decided to remain, pretending to be a freedman, and work for the freedom of others rather than continuing on his own journey to freedom.  He conspired with the Reverend David Hillhouse Buel, Rector of Emmanuel Parish, who had also worked with other Underground Railroad sites in Sykeville and Westminster before coming to Emmanuel in 1847. Buel gave Denson the job of Sexton which included keeping the Church and Rectory looked after, keeping the furnace going, ringing the Church bell and doing custodial work at the Allegany Academy (which now houses the Public Library).  In that capacity it was a natural part of Denson’s job to traverse the tunnels regularly.  It was the perfect cover for his role with the Underground Railroad!

Part of the old Fort’s defense works ran from the east end of the Church down the hill to Will’s Creek.  In those days this was an area where rail lines came together at the Terminus of the C&O Canal.  It was called “Shanty Town” because of the proliferation of saloons, brothels and shacks where canal workers and lowlifes lived… a natural hiding place for someone on the run.  Escaping slaves were instructed  to hide out there while waiting for the next moved to be signaled – Samuel Denson ringing the church bell in a special coded way - and then bringing them to safety under the Church where could rest, eat and get other aid for a day from Rev. Buel and fellow abolitionists.  Then they followed a tunnel under the Rectory and out the cellar door into a [then] unpopulated part of town and be transported over the Mason Dixon line 4 miles away.  For many, the tunnels below Emmanuel Church were the last Underground Railroad stop in slave territory.

For Whom The Bell Tolls

I know... cheesy to steal the title from the ever more famous and great writer, Ernest Hemingway, but I like it.  And it works for this post about church bells.

There is a pretty little Catholic church, St. Patrick's, on the next block.  Jason's Mom said it used to have a contingent of Nuns and even, at one point, served as a Monastery but now was vacated for lack of a large enough congregation to warrant the expense of keeping clergy there.  Someone still rings the bells, though.  And the parish website lists a full schedule of meetings and masses. So who knows?

Photo from the website of
Our Lady of the Mountains
Roman Catholic Parish of Cumberland, MD

I've noticed the bells several times at 6:00 am, noon, and 6:00 pm.  At first I thought they were marking time.  And then I became vaguely aware that there were significantly more than 6 (or 12) peals... This morning I counted 22.

And so I went to Google for some answers.

I learned that the history of ringing church bells dates back to 400 AD. Paulinas of Nola was the first to introduce them to the Christian church and Pope Sabinianus sanctioned them in 604 perhaps as part of the meshing of Pagan practices into the early church as more people became members by force if not by choice.  Pagan winter celebrations have long included ringing bells to drive out evil spirits perpetuating the idea that bells have great spiritual significance though nothing in the Bible distinctly calls for the ringing of bells as part of worship.

Today's Catholic, Lutheran and Anglican churches ring bells at 6:00 a.m., noon, and 6:00 p.m. as a summons for members to pause and recite The Lord's Prayer or Angelus.  This schedule is also steeped in ancient tradition. Christianity draws from Bible verses speaking of thrice daily prayer:

Psalms 55:17 says "Evening, and morning, and at noon, will I pray, and cry aloud: and he shall hear my voice."

And Daniel 6:10, "Now when Daniel knew that the writing was signed, he went into his house; and his windows being open in his chamber toward Jerusalem, he kneeled upon his knees three times a day, and prayed, and gave thanks before his God, as he did aforetime."

Praying 3 times a day is consistent with the Jewish practice of visiting the Wailing Wall.  And sounding a call to prayer is analogous to the Islamic tradition of the adhan from a minaret.  I think it's very interesting that we draw from so many diverse cultures and traditions for something so pleasant as bells on neighborhood churches.

About St. Patricks, their website gives this history "The rich history of Mt. Savage includes one of the first masses celebrated in the area in 1793 by Fr. Stephen Badin (the first priest ordained in America). As the Catholic population grew, St. Ignatius Church was built between 1829 and 1835. When a larger church was needed, construction began on what is now St. Patrick’s Church, named for the predominance of Irish immigrants. The new church was formally dedicated in October of 1873. Mt. Savage is also the birthplace of Edward Cardinal Mooney (1882-1958) who was elevated to Cardinal in 1946 by Pope Pius XII."

Pretty cool... While I still have no idea if 22 bell peals at 6:00 a.m. has meaning, or is just the result of an especially enthusiastic bell ringer, I can say I've walked in the footsteps of America's first priest now!

Marietta

If I told you I visited a place that looked like the set of a Hallmark Hall of Fame Movie would you think I was drunk, dreaming or telling you a tall tale?

Well... that's exactly what I'm telling you about Marietta Ohio!  

Middle Island is one of several islands in the Ohio River that
are in some state of being returned to nature as wildlife preserves.
This guide provides more information about the plans, activities
that are available and a map of the islands:  https://www.fws.gov/
refuge/ohio_river_islands/visit/visitor_activities.html

I wasn't sure what to expect when, during Jason's last visit, he suggested we keep exploring after a look around St. Mary's and checking out the 235-acre former farm turning back to nature for a wildlife preserve on Middle Island and headed over their lovely old metal bridge.  

But I surely was in for a good surprise!!  It was getting late enough in the afternoon that we were losing light for photographs, and a good look around, so we made plans to go back the next day.

Bridge between St. Mary's, WV and Ohio

We made that exploration a continuation of a trip to the dog park so the boys got an extra treat of taking a little walk around Muskingum Park right on the bank of the Ohio River in downtown Marietta.  They loved it!  And, even with one or the other them pulling me in 20 different directions all at the same time, I managed to get some pictures...

Muskingum Park
Dedication Marker

The park commemorates the westward expansion of our country beyond the original 13 colonies and is now home to a beautiful walking trail and a thriving arts and music community. The section we explored is situated between the downtown business district and a residential area with a number of historical marker-ed houses and churches.

One of the current arts programs is turning several dead trees into art installations by carving historical figures from the stumps like this one.  I didn't find a marker telling me who it is in place yet but I think it's a pretty neat idea to give these old trees a living voice to the history they witnessed.

Memorial to the Start Westward

Memorial to the Start Westward

Looks like it's time for a little more
restoration work...

We eventually headed back toward the cabin over the "Green Bridge," another of these really cool old ironworks bridges that have me so completely fascinated and charmed.

The Green Bridge between Marietta OH and Williamstown WV

And since I was driving, we took a couple more little side-trips to see stuff that interests me.  One of them was to the old Fenton Art Glass Factory in Williamstown.

Fenton Art Glass factory in Williamstown, WV

Sadly, the company ceased making art glass pieces in 2011 and there's just a gift shop that wasn't open the day we were there.  Seeing the glass production is something I would have loved...  Their wikipedia page gives some interesting facts about its founding and pictures the kind of glass pieces they produced at different times during the company's lifetime.

WW II Submarine Memorial

This is at Mountwood Park.  The boys and I explored the rest of the park last week but it was raining too much to get a look at their memorial to the lost submarine men that day.  Today we went back to the dog park to work out some wiggles and attitude problems and then took some time to remember and reflect at this small, simple, and unassuming memorial site on the shores of Walker Lake.

I learned a sad fact.  52 U.S. Submarines were lost in World War II.  This plaque on the front of the memorial lists those still listed as "On Patrol."  That's a sobering number... As is the number of men who are still onboard: 3,505 officers and enlisted men.

Words fail me to express my respect and gratitude for their sacrifice!

"We shall never forget that it was our submarines that held the lines against the enemy while our fleets replaced losses and repaired wounds."  Fleet Admiral C.W. Nimitz, USN

I didn't find an explanation as to why, but the U.S.S. Cisco was given special recognition here, listing men who went down with her on September 28, 1943.  According to her Wikipedia page, "Cisco sailed from Panama 7 August 1943 for Brisbane, Australia, arriving 1 September to assume local patrol duties, until 18 September, when she docked at Darwin. She put out on her first war patrol 20 September, but never returned. Japanese records tell of sighting a submarine leaking oil on 28 September in an area where Cisco is known to have been the only submarine then operating. Japanese records state this submarine was sunk by bombs and depth charges. Cisco is thus presumed to have been lost in action 28 September 1943. The only survivor from the crew was Chief Radioman Howell B. Rice (USN ret.), who was taken sick in Darwin and sent ashore to the Navy hospital prior to Cisco's final voyage."

The lake side of the memorial has a plaque recognizing those who contributed to its building and placement.  It includes a number of WW II submarine veterans.

With the loss of our veteran's from this time period, I have to wonder how many stories are lost with them.  What could we learn that would help us not repeat the mistakes that drew the world into this war with its unspeakably horrible human cost?  I think these memorials help, both the famous and the obscure, when we take the time to stop, read and put some effort into really comprehending our history and how it's made our life today possible.  It also makes me think that a simple 'thank you,' no matter how appreciated, just isn't enough...

The Battle of New Hope Church

One of my resolutions for 2015 is to spend more time exploring my local surroundings.  So to start off, I thought I'd back up a few months and show you one I finally got to see last July.  I'd been wanting to go look at the site and the historical markers for a long time, but I was waiting for my self-proclaimed history buff companion to decide he could be bothered.  I gave up on that and went with a visiting friend.

Located where the present day Dallas Acworth Highway intersects E. Paulding Ave (which continues west from there as Old Cartersville Road - have I mentioned lately how confusing I find roads that suddenly change names at a random intersection?) is the site of one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War, that of New Hope Church, fought in May 1864.  Yes, the battle was fought in and around this very simple and unpretentious little church!

New Hope Church as it appears today.

One of 12 "Unknown" soldiers buried at the
New Hope Cemetery.

"Unnamed, unknown, remain and still remain the bravest soldiers. Our manliest, our boys, our hardy darlings: no picture gives them. Likely, the typical one of them (standing, no doubt, for hundreds, thousands) crawls aside to some bush-clump or ferny tuft on receiving his death-shot; there, sheltering a little while, soaking roots, grass, and soil with red blood; the battle advances, retreats, flits from the scene, sweeps by; and there, haply with pain and suffering…the last lethargy winds like a serpent round him; the eyes glaze in death;…and there, at last the Bravest Soldier, crumbles in Mother Earth, unburied and unknown."  --  Walt Whitman, Drum Taps 1865

Confederate Cemetery at New Hope Community.

 There’s a cemetery within the cemetery at New Hope Community just outside of Dallas, GA.  It’s a tiny plot with just 13 slightly unkempt graves under a worn Confederate flag.  All but 1 mark the final resting spot of some unknown soldier who paid the ultimate price defending the only life he knew.  History, especially when it involves a conflict, is told (and accepted as true and complete) from the perspective of the winner and these soldiers were on the losing side.  It's easy to overlook them and forget that each was someone’s son… perhaps a brother, husband, father, friend.  Their names and stories are unknown but I'm sure someone's heart hurt when their loved one didn't come home after the war.  And the tragedy of that makes my heart hurt still today.

Another part of the site that I found particularly haunting is the battle trenches just east of the church building.

Confederate dug battle trenches.

A friend with some military history knowledge explained the battle tactics of the time this way.  Because the guns used were neither uniform nor accurate, the soldiers would take aim in groups of 3.  The man in front would lie on his belly, the second man was down on one knee behind him and the third, standing at the back.  All would fire at the same time and then fall to the back of the line to reload.  Picture in your mind's eye that scene happening in a shallow trench like this one!  Fighting in this way increased the odds that one of their combatants would be struck down greatly over having every soldier in one long line.  It's so hard to imagine the brutal conditions of this kind of hand to hand combat.  And it was literally hand to hand...

Front of Sesquicentennial marker.

May of 2014 marked the Sesquicentennial of the Battle of New Hope Church and one of the town’s civic clubs erected a marker honoring the soldiers of the Army of Tennessee, led (I think) by General Hardee. They were the primary Confederate forces trying to block Sherman’s march on Atlanta.  And even though this is counted as Confederate victory, they were outflanked and Union forces advanced on to Kennesaw Mountain (I'll document a visit in another post - it is a better known site maintained by the National Park Service and host to many re-enactments and events).

There are a number of historic markers at this site describing with both text and picture how the troops moved parallel to one another.  You can also get a glimpse of today’s landscape in these pictures and imagine how difficult the journey must have been 150 years ago in dense woods, heat, and humidity.

Markers in the park at the battle site explaining the
logistics and tactics used by the soldiers fighting here.

Visiting these sites that previously were only brief descriptions in a text book sure brings history alive to me in a whole new way.  Those who fought on both sides have my utmost respect!