The Sun had already risen over the Mississippi in Louisiana, Missouri on Sunday morning July 28, 2019. My photographer’s grand scheme of shooting images of a beautiful sunrise over the river went awry; he couldn’t get his butt out of bed on time. I’m not sure it would’ve mattered anyway as the view from our balcony wasn’t all that spectacular – the Champ Clark Bridge over the Mississippi River dominated the landscape. So much so, in fact, that our motel should’ve been called the ‘Ugly Bridge View Motel’ instead of the ‘River’s Edge Motel’.
The three of us survived the night; my companions didn’t hear any unusual noises and I was happy that I didn’t see any cockroaches in our room. Perhaps that was due to the cockroach union not allowing those filthy bugs to work on the weekend. Once the Highlander was packed, we were headed over the Champ Clark Bridge and into Illinois at roughly 8:00am. During the 90-mile journey to Springfield, I stood in my camera case and thought about my first trip to Illinois’ capital in 2014; I’ll never forget my experience when I stood on Abraham Lincoln’s grave marker inside his majestic tomb. It was disheartening when I heard Tom mention that he hadn’t planned on the three of us going to Oak Ridge Cemetery; but I think I knew the reason why. My photographer did his best to justify his agenda right after his wife asked: “Didn’t we seen all the Lincoln sites in Springfield before? Why are we going back if we’ve already been there once?” And then it happened; Tom brought out the heavy artillery in the form of a Bob Moldenhauer quote: “You’ve eaten pizza before, right? And I bet you will eat pizza again, correct? And why? Because pizza tastes great. It’s no different with the Lincoln sites – they’re great and I want to visit them again.” That conversation ended with Vicki saying: “It’s not the same.” Luckily for Tom and I, he’s not only the keeper of the itinerary, he’s also in charge of the GPS coordinates as well.
It was roughly 9:40am when Vicki parked our vehicle at the Lincoln Home National Historic Site Visitor Center. Once we had obtained our time-stamped free tickets to tour Lincoln’s home, we made the one-block walk to Mr. Lincoln’s neighborhood that was centered at the corner of Jackson and South 8th Streets. With roughly 45 minutes to kill before our tour began, Tom carried me to the front of the house and placed me near the spot where Abraham Lincoln and his sons, Willie and Tad, had been photographed in 1860. When we finished our photoshoot, my photographer looked for his wife; but she was nowhere in sight. Then we heard her signature whistle – Vicki was about a hundred yards down 8th Street as she watched a beautiful Red-tailed hawk fly from tree to tree in the historic neighborhood. In my mind, I thought to myself: “We are in front of one of the most historic houses in America and she would rather go bird watching – unbelievable”. But, as it turned out, the hawk was an incredible find and both Tom and I were glad his wife had discovered it.
Our NPS Ranger tour guide met us across the street from the historic house at precisely 10:30am. After a brief discussion about the rules, the ranger led us across 8th Street where we proceeded through the front door of Abraham Lincoln’s home. While some of the furnishings inside the home belonged to the Lincoln’s, others were of the period, and they represented life in 1860. Some of the rooms made an impact on me and brought Abraham Lincoln, the father and husband, to life. When we were in the Sitting Room, for example, I envisioned Abe sprawled onto the floor as he wrestled with Eddie, Willie and Tad. Their stereoscope sat on a table; it was a toy that Lincoln had purchased for his sons for entertainment. As we ascended the stairway to the upper bedrooms, it was as though I could see the gangly six-foot, four-inch Lincoln holding the same handrail as he walked up those steps. One of his favorite desks, which was called a pigeon hole desk, sat in the corner of his bedroom. Even though the bed was a replica, I knew that Lincoln burned the midnight oil in his bedroom and likely formulated his plan for the Presidency there as well. It was an honor for me to pose inside Lincoln’s home; it was my third favorite Presidential home behind The White House and Monticello. Please sit back and enjoy our tour of Abraham and Mary Lincoln’s beloved home.
In the past, I had visited numerous sites related to Abraham Lincoln; most of which were either from his youth or had pertained to his political career. But his Springfield home was different. While I was carried from room to room, it was as though Abraham, the loving father, was present in those rooms with me. During and after his Presidency, Abraham Lincoln has been revered as one of the greatest men in American history. But within the walls of his modest home, Lincoln was simply ‘good old dad’ to Robert, Eddie, Willie, and Tad. When our tour was finished and I was carried into the backyard, I had wondered if Lincoln knew on February 11, 1861 that he would never see his beloved home again. When he closed the front door of his house and walked down the front steps to his waiting carriage, I imagined a solemn sadness in his soul; for during his Farewell Address at the nearby train station he said to the large crowd: “Here my children have been born, and one is buried. I now leave, not knowing when, or whether ever, I may return, with a task before me greater than that which rested upon Washington.”
At roughly 11:15am, the three of us walked through the rest of Mr. Lincoln’s neighborhood as we made our way to the Old State Capitol Building that was located about five blocks away. When we arrived at the Capitol, I posed in front of the building where Senator Barack Obama announced his candidacy for President of the United States on February 10, 2007. Obama chose the Old Capitol backdrop because of Lincoln’s ‘House Divided Speech’, which Abe delivered in the State House of Representatives Chamber on June 16, 1858. Once inside, Tom carried me to several areas of the Capitol that had Presidential ties; including the House Chamber, the Governor’s reception room that served as Lincoln’s campaign headquarters, and a place beneath the stairwell that was used by Ulysses S. Grant to recruit troops for the Civil War.
When our self-guided tour of the Old State Capitol concluded around noon, we began our two-block walk to the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum. It was during that hike when my photographer and his wife were first approached by a guy on a bicycle who wanted to be our personal tour guide – and of course, he wanted my camera guy to order him a meatball sub from the nearby Subway as well. In my mind, I knew what the outcome would be before their semi-heated conversation got into full swing. Two facts popped into my head: First, Tom is cheap, and he wasn’t about to buy a stranger a sandwich; and second, if there was one person in Springfield who did NOT need a tour guide, it was my photographer. My COBS-infested camera guy did his best to not verbally assault the individual when he wouldn’t accept the fact that his services weren’t needed. I began to get concerned, however, when their banter got a bit heated; simply because the guy escorted us all the way to the museum and we weren’t totally convinced that he didn’t possess a weapon. Throughout the ordeal, I had hoped we would cross paths with a police officer; but since there wasn’t a donut shop in the area, that didn’t happen.
Upon our arrival, there was no mistaking the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum. Located near the entrance to the museum was a larger-than-life, 31-foot tall figurine of the 16th President who was depicted alongside a modern-day man. At first, I was confused – I wondered if we were visiting a Presidential Museum or if we were about to embark on a ride at Disney World. Once the three of us entered the building, however, the answer became quite clear to me – it was a little bit of both. I’m not sure how Tom felt about the museum’s layout, but I was okay with the more upbeat and fun approach to telling the story of Abraham Lincoln’s life. As a matter of fact, I embraced the new design concept as a breath of fresh air – history should be fun and come to life; especially for kids. Today’s children are the future keepers of our history; if they enjoy history as kids, the more likely they will treasure it as adults. As I was carried throughout the museum, the life-like scenes that depicted Abraham Lincoln’s life mesmerized me; especially the scene that showed the President and First Lady as they sat in the Presidential box at Ford’s Theater. While I gazed into the unsuspecting couple’s eyes, waiting for them to blink at the sound of gunfire, I wanted to warn them of the President’s imminent doom.
During our tour of Lincoln’s museum, I patiently waited to pose alongside an authentic artifact or two that would blow my resin socks off – but unfortunately, that moment never happened. We saw a handwritten copy of Lincoln’s second inaugural address, a Bible that had been given to the President, his shaving mirror, and a spoon that he used while eating his last meal; but nothing on display provided the “Wow Factor” for me; and that was a letdown. It’s common for museums to rotate their exhibits, which is great if you have an overwhelming number of items in the collection; but unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case here. As we exited the museum through the gift shop, I did see a display that featured a few Presidential bobble heads from Royal Bobbles. Since each of those Presidents were already in my photographer’s collection at home, all I could do was nod at them as we walked past.
It was roughly a six-block return trip to where our Highlander was parked near Lincoln’s home; throughout that entire hike I kept my eyes peeled for the Subway moocher. At one point during our long walk, I heard my photographer tell his wife that if he saw the guy, he would agree to meet him at Subway to buy him a sandwich – albeit a six-inch, of course. Luckily for us, we never saw the guy or his bicycle again; although had the guy been waiting for Tom next to our vehicle, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
As the clock on the dashboard closed-in on 1:30pm, Vicki navigated the Highlander along Capitol Avenue until we were directly in front of the Illinois State Capitol Building. While his wife remained in the air conditioning, Tom carried me to an area near the front of the Capitol where he snapped a handful of images. As the mid-day Sun’s heat rose to the mid-90s, my photographer decided that we didn’t need to get very close to the building; which was fine with me since it wasn’t open to the public on Sunday anyway.
My photographer decided that we would spend the night in Lafayette, Indiana, which was about 175 miles east of Springfield and would put us in great position for an early morning visit to the final Presidential site of our trip. During the ride, my companions kept the radio dialed-in to the NASCAR race, which was the Gander RV 400 at Pocono Raceway. As the race reached the end of the first stage, which was won by Kyle Busch, Tom and Vicki decided to stop at Buffalo Wild Wings in Forsyth, Illinois to watch their favorite driver as he tried to win another checkered flag. But as they finished their wings and beer around the same time as the race ended, my companions had a better finish than Busch – Tom and Vicki’s stomachs were full; while Kyle ended up nine spots behind race winner Denny Hamlin.
When we reached the Illinois-Indiana border around 5:40pm, Tom had the hair-brained idea to be photographed as he stood on the border. Unlike the tri-state marker near the City of Joplin, however, he was forced to straddle an imaginary line in the middle of a dirt road. Oh, there were the ‘State Line’ signs on each side of that gravel road, but there wasn’t an actual marking that designated where the border was located. As I watched from the camera case, I thought my photographer looked like an idiot as he stood with his legs spread apart on that desolate road in the middle of nowhere. And to top it all off, Vicki used my photographer’s camera to capture the moment. Since she wasn’t familiar with his equipment, she had to fire-off 60 images before Tom was satisfied with her pictures. I only shook my head and thought to myself: “Good thing Tom wasn’t moving, or we would’ve spent the night on that dang road.”
The remainder of the ride to our hotel seemed to take forever; even though Lafayette, Indiana was only 45 miles from the border. It was nearly 7:00pm when my companions got registered at the Days Inn in Lafayette. Since we were less than ten miles from the Tippecanoe Battlefield, Tom mentioned to his wife that she could sleep an extra 15 minutes longer in the morning. Although Vicki didn’t comment on his generosity, I figured that she gave Tom the middle finger in her mind. Once we were unpacked and in the room for the night, my photographer placed me alongside the television set before he began to work on his NASCAR fantasy league’s statistics. When the lights were doused at 10:30pm, the reality of the moment hit me like a ton of bricks. The final night of our trip had arrived. No more hotels. No more riding in the camera case. And unfortunately, no more Presidential sites for the rest of the year. My biggest fear, with heavy rain and storms in the forecast for the morning, was getting hit by lightning on the 85-foot-tall Tippecanoe Monument or getting washed into the Wabash River by a heavy downpour. As I stood in the darkness and thought about it, there was no need to worry. I couldn’t imagine anything bad happening to a Presidential bobble head at the Tippecanoe Battlefield. After all, it’s not like my name is William Henry Harrison!
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As promised, the alarm went off at 6:15am on Monday July 29, 2019. Also as promised, the rain peppered the window of our hotel room while the sky was dark and gloomy. As my photographer and his wife packed their belongings for the final time, I heard the weatherman on television mention that the rain would stop around 9:00am. That good news quickly turned grim when he mentioned that the break in the weather system would be short-lived and there was more torrential rain to follow.
With no time to waste, we left the hotel and headed for Tippecanoe Battlefield Park. Then it happened – it was a true epiphany. We were somewhere on I-65 just north of Lafayette, Indiana when Vicki said something out of the blue that would influence our future travels forever: “I just saw a billboard on the side of the expressway that advertised a restaurant once featured on Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives. If it’s nearby, we should go.” Tom agreed; but he had one thing on his mind – the Tippecanoe Battlefield Monument and its Presidential connection. Throughout our drive from the motel to the battlefield, I could hear the windshield wipers slappin’ time like a Janis Joplin song. Miraculously, as Vicki pulled the Highlander into the parking lot near the 85-foot tall Tippecanoe Monument, the rain stopped. The weatherman on television was right; although it was only 8:50am, which made him off by ten minutes.
Tom quickly carried me to the tall marble monument that marked the battlefield site where Governor William Henry Harrison’s troops defeated Shawnee Indian leader Tecumseh’s warriors in the Battle of Tippecanoe that was fought on November 7, 1811. As I stood on the monument, which made me look very small, I envisioned part of the two-hour battle – which ultimately cost the lives of 62 of Harrison’s men; while roughly 50 Shawnee warriors died in the fight. From my position on the monument, I looked up and saw the statue of Harrison above me. After the victory, Harrison became nationally known as ‘Old Tippecanoe’ which helped vault him to the Presidency in 1840. As a matter of fact, Harrison and his Vice-Presidential running mate became known as “Tippecanoe and Tyler, Too”.
Harrison’s victory at Tippecanoe didn’t come without dire consequences, however. Legend has stated that when Tecumseh was killed in a later battle, his brother Tenskwatawa (known as The Prophet and the one who led the charge at Tippecanoe) set a curse against Harrison. The curse seemed to work, too. Just thirty-one days after taking the Oath of Office as President in 1841, William Henry Harrison, who was elected in 1840, died in the White House. During the following 120 years, every President elected in a year that ended in ‘0’ died in office. The curse stopped, however, when Ronald Reagan lived out his two terms in office after being elected in 1980. But Reagan came close to becoming the next Tenskwatawa victim when he was shot in an assassination attempt by John Hinckley, Jr on March 30, 1981. Twenty years later, when George W. Bush was elected in 2000, an assassination attempt was made on May 10, 2005 when Vladimir Arutyunian threw a live hand grenade near the President and his wife Laura, but it did not detonate. Next year is 2020 and we could be faced with a cursed Presidential election. If that President doesn’t believe in curses, he or she might stop and think about Harrison, Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Harding, FDR, and JFK. They didn’t believe in it either!
Our visit to the Tippecanoe Battlefield lasted about 45 minutes; and during that entire time, not a single raindrop fell on us. We got lucky – the way the sky looked, I was surprised that we didn’t get drenched. When Tom plucked me off the monument and placed me back into the camera case, a sense of finality consumed my entire body. It was over; we had visited the last Presidential site on the trip; and it was likely the last Presidential site for the remainder of the year as well.
Back in the Highlander, my photographer found information on his phone about a nearby eatery that had been featured on Guy Fieri’s television show ‘Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives’. That diner was the same one that Vicki saw advertised on the billboard along the freeway. The place was called Triple XXX Family Restaurant and it was located less than eight miles away in West Lafayette – home of the Purdue Boilermakers. It began to rain just as we arrived at the wooden orange-and-black-striped box with windows, which, quite frankly, didn’t look very impressive from the outside. I laughed as I thought to myself: “This place must be the ‘Dives’ part of the show.” As a matter of fact, as the three of us walked towards the rear entrance to the diner, I heard my photographer say out loud to his wife: “Boy I don’t know; are you sure you want to eat in a place that looks like this?” She shot back with her usual rebuttal: “Oh come on, take a chance – Columbus did!” For some reason, I didn’t think Columbus discovered West Lafayette. He discovered Ohio!
Once inside the Triple XXX, it was as though we stepped back in time; the interior resembled a diner from the 1950s. We didn’t see any tables; customers simply pulled-up padded stools and sat at the counter; a counter that seemed to wind through the entire dining area. Our server was Valerie, a very friendly woman who looked incredible dressed in her pink and teal 1950s server uniform. Valerie also kept a smile on her face as she took care of the capacity lunch crowd. As my companions browsed through the menu, they noticed some of the items were named after Purdue University athletes – including Drew Brees, Nick Hardwick, Ryan Kerrigan, Ashley Burkhardt, Bernie Flowers, and Duane Purvis. When owner Carrie Ehresman approached the three of us, she recommended one of the burgers that Guy Fieri ate during their appearance on ‘Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives’. The episode was called ‘Burgers’, which originally aired on June 11, 2007 during Season 1 of the show. It was easy to see that Guy’s show had made an impact on Carrie, her husband Greg, and the entire diner.
Tom and Vicki agreed to try Carrie’s recommendation – the Duane Purvis All American burger, which turned out to be a signature chopped steak burger with cheese, onion, tomato, lettuce, pickle, and peanut butter. Yes, peanut butter – a generous amount of creamy peanut butter slathered on the lower bun. While my photographer was hesitant at first to eat a peanut butter-filled burger, he ordered it anyway. Tom said to his wife moments after placing his order: “If Guy Fieri enjoyed a peanut butter hamburger, then I’ll try one too.” What Tom didn’t realize was the fact that the blonde-haired Californian Fieri hated the Duane Purvis burger; primarily because he’s not a fan of peanut butter. But my photographer loved it; and I laughed to myself when I heard him tell Carrie and Valerie that it was the best hamburger he’d ever eaten. While the diner was famous for its incredible burgers, it’s even more renowned for the Triple XXX root beer it served. Although Tom had ordered a chocolate malt for lunch, Vicki took a ride on the wild side with a Triple XXX root beer float; and it may have been the best decision she made on the trip. As it turned out, Triple XXX root beer originated in Texas during prohibition in 1916 and has been around since. When Vicki shared a taste of her float with her husband, Tom knew that he had made a huge mistake with the malt: “That’s what root beer should taste like; it reminded me of my childhood. It’s so smooth and frothy; root beer doesn’t get any better than that.” Tom liked the beverage so much that he ordered a six-pack for the road, which Carrie generously and unexpectedly gave to him as a gift for being a first-time customer.
A valuable lesson was learned – never judge a book by its cover. Our visit to the Triple XXX Family Restaurant in West Lafayette was a true diamond-in-the-rough; the atmosphere was incredible and the people there were beyond friendly – they made us feel at home in Indiana. Our experience at Triple XXX had planted a seed for Tom’s future trip agendas; he and his wife vowed to patronize other Triple D establishments going forward. As Vicki drove the Highlander out of the parking lot, it was as though I could hear Guy Fieri say in his raspy voice: “That’s it for this trip, but we’ve got plenty more joints we’ve gotta hit. We’ll see you next time on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.”
At times, the ride home became hectic as Vicki drove in and out of thunderstorms. At one point, near Wabash, Indiana, she had to leave the expressway because the deluge of rain made it impossible for her to see the road. But as the trip wound down, my photographer and his wife couldn’t complain about the weather; even Hurricane Barry wasn’t able to throw a wrench into their plans. By the time we crossed the Michigan border, the rain had stopped. We arrived at our home in St. Clair, Michigan around 6:00pm; my photographer immediately placed me back on the shelf with the rest of my Presidential bobble head friends. And for the first time in a while, I had completed a long trip and still made it home in one piece.
It was a bittersweet feeling for me during the remainder of that summer and fall. While I was sad that my Presidential travels for 2019 had ended in late July, it also proved to be the year with the most personal highlights since my quest began six years earlier. In May of 2019, I saw President Donald Trump and Vice President Mike Pence in person outside of the White House. In April, I saw Bill and Hillary Clinton at the Fox Theater in Detroit; then in July, I got to meet Jimmy Carter at his church in Plains, Georgia. I also had the opportunity to stand on the actual death beds of Rutherford B. Hayes and Franklin D. Roosevelt; plus, I spent a few minutes standing in Bill and Hillary’s bathtub. While I will never forget the moment that Tom held me across the threshold of the doorway to the Oval Office, my proudest achievement came when I became the first bobble head in history to visit the gravesites of all 39 deceased Presidents.
Yes, 2019 had been a great year – without any doubt, it was my best yet. I truly believed, however, that more historical times were yet to come; and I was confident that 2020 would be a year like none other. Some might call it a gut feeling – others may think it’s a premonition. Either way, my Presidential adventures were set to go viral; and that comes from a bobble head who got his start in China.
