This was the part of the trip I was most excited about, but - in all honesty - I was positive that the boys were not going to be as excited about it as I was.I have mentioned once or twice in previous blogs that I am currently writing a piece of historical science-fiction that parallels the American Civil War. Most of the research I've done centers around the navy: the blockade (Anaconda Plan), the building of Confederate ships in England, the Hunley, Raphael Semmes, and the Alabama. Gettysburg was not part of that research - not directly - but I still wanted to see it with my own eyes: an actual testament to the most gruesome war in America's history. It's one thing to see pictures. It's another thing to actually be present.
In total, it would be a seven or eight hour drive to get there from Mystic. We promised the boys a stop in Hershey, Pennsylvania. Robinson's family had lived there several years before Robinson was born. His mother had said that the entire city smelled like chocolate. The boys especially wanted to see if that was true. (It didn't. They were disappointed.)
They spotted the amusement park in the distance. We promised to take them again - when Balin was older because "right now he couldn't go on any of the rides" - and made candy bars at the Hershey Museum instead, which more or less placated them. Balin was so exhausted that he fell asleep during the pre-candy making presentation. He did, however, wake up long enough to make a S'mores bar and eat all of his leftover chocolate.We has hoped to tour an actual factory but all of them were closed down. Instead, the candy chef who had helped us make our chocolate suggested that we go to a nearby exhibit - "with free parking!" she exclaimed - where we could take a ride to see how chocolate was made.
At no time in my life was I prepared to witness such horror.
Look, I'm all for entertainment...but this was gaudy. Gauche. Cows - cows? - offered up a song-and-dance about how chocolate was harvested, processed, and made into candy bars. There were no specifics, nothing new to learn (the candy chef had done an excellent job explaining the process already), so half-way into the ride I was more than finished with the whole thing.
The boys, of course, were higly amused - though I would not go so far as to suggest that they loved it.
Getting from Hershey to Gettysburg entailed a trip through Harrisburg, Pennsylvania's capital. We saw the capital building from the highway - Arthur even commented that it looked similar to the one in Madison - and got turned around several times before we finally found the right exit. The boys, having just eaten their weight in candy, were rowdy.
The boys were not impressed with Gettysburg. Not that they should have been. After all, they are so young and their world is so small that they don't understand the importance of history. All they saw were statues of dead men, pennies on grave markers, and a field full of lined-up stones that begged to be stepped on. They didn't realize that about 50,000 people were wounded or died at that very place. They didn't know that some of those people were never identified, that their families could never get closure. They couldn't possibly understand the fear and the horror that those soldiers (on either side) faced for three days before the Confederate army retreated. They were completely unaware that, in states like Maryland, brothers would often fight against each other - to preserve the Union or for the right to secede. I hope one day they'll understand.
This little project of mine has sparked a bit more patriotism than I anticipated. I have a newfound respect for my great-great grandfather, John Muentner, who fought in the Civil War as an artillery man in one of the Wisconsin regiments. He is known by the family simply as "Civil War John." He was an immigrant to the United States and yet, like many recent German immigrants, fought for the ideal of keeping the Union together despite the loss of lives. Did he ever regret it?I would love to go back someday and take one of the tours. I'd also love to explore the little town of Gettysburg...but maybe when the boys are older. When they can really appreciate it.
Blessed be.
2 comments:
Gregory Michael Zebrowski said...
Gregory Michael Zebrowski said...
Hey, John A. Muentner (1836-1925) was my great-great-great-grandfather! He's came to USA from Switzerland, he had a brother named Casper Muentner who fought in the Civil War also! John A. Muentner went captured by Confederate Infantry and sent to the prison camp at Andersonville, Georgia. He was nearly to die when the civil war end. I am glad to found this stuff! my name is Gregory Michael Zebrowski, I guess that I might be correct if is that cousin to you?