137: JEFFERSON’S OLD STOMPING GROUNDS

The weather was mostly overcast when our alarm rang at 6:00am on Sunday May 16, 2021. The more I thought about it during the night, I truly believed that Tom and Bob selected Wytheville as their place to spend the night because the city was named after George Wythe – Signer of the Declaration of Independence.

Even though our agenda had our first stop of the day scheduled for a visit to Lexington, Virginia and a visit to the home and grave of Stonewall Jackson, my two companions made an executive decision to stop at Jefferson’s retreat home Poplar Forest instead. I was good with that change in plans; I’ll never complain about a visit to a Thomas Jefferson site. During our arrival into Wytheville the night before, my travel mates discovered that Edith Bolling Wilson, second wife and First Lady to Woodrow Wilson, was born there and Tom and Bob wanted to visit her birthplace before we headed out of town.

Edith Bolling was born on October 15, 1872 in the home that stood before me along the south side of East Main Street in Wytheville, Virginia. There was hardly any Sunday morning traffic at 8:15am, which made it easier for my photographer to capture images of me standing in front of the large building. Although we were unable to go inside the birthplace, the three of us learned that the second-story of the building served as the Bolling Family home from 1866 to 1899. When Edith married President Woodrow Wilson on December 18, 1915, it was the second marriage for both; Woodrow’s first wife, Ellen, died in the White House on August 6, 1914 from Bright’s disease. Following President Wilson’s stroke in October 1919 that left him bedridden and partially paralyzed, Edith helped hide his disabilities from the American public and she served as the go-between on all decisions made by the President. Some historians have stated that Edith Wilson unofficially served as President for the final 18 months of Woodrow Wilson’s second term; however, she downplayed her role in the White House.

There was another historical, or semi-historical, site that we saw in the same building complex as the First Lady’s birthplace. It was an eatery called ‘Skeeter’s World-Famous Hot Dogs’. Unfortunately, it was closed on that Sunday morning, but I’m confident that my photographer would’ve tried to put some ‘Skeeterdogs’ on the endangered species list had it been open. What I found incredible was the fact that ‘Skeeter’s’ has occupied that storefront in Wytheville since 1943 and have sold ‘Skeeterdogs’ in town since 1925. Holy smokes – that’s 96 years of selling hot dogs; which is 672 in dog years!

For the next two-plus hours, I got to sit back and relax in the camera case as Tom guided our vehicle along the Virginia highways for over 120 miles to Poplar Forest; the retreat house once designed and owned by Thomas Jefferson. The three of us had visited Jefferson’s home-away-from-home in 2019 and my companions didn’t feel the need to tour the interior. Not wanting to pay the $18 fee to simply walk the grounds and snap a few photos, Tom and Bob nonchalantly made their way discreetly along a driveway to the front of Poplar Forest. For me, it was cool to be back to Jefferson’s pride and joy, which he began constructing while President in 1806. Our 3rd President used Poplar Forest as a retreat home when he needed to get away from his estate Monticello; and his visits ranged from a few days to weeklong stays. Although it’s hard to tell the building’s unique design from the exterior, but Poplar Forest may be the first octagonal house constructed in the United States. Tom carried me to an area near the front porch; then we made our way around the east wing for some additional pictures. We ended our short exterior tour at the rear of the home where I stood on a window ledge and paid a personal tribute to Thomas Jefferson.

As the three of us made our way back to the parking lot where our black Rogue waited for us, it began to sprinkle. We got lucky – the rain held off long enough for us to walk the grounds for 25 minutes. The last thing my companions needed was to get soaked early and be stuck wearing wet clothes for the remainder of the day. While the rain doesn’t bother me much as the water droplets roll off my painted resin clothing, I know for a fact that Tom and Bob dislike walking around in drenched clothing and I find it annoying listening to them complain.

It rained on and off during the entire 38-mile drive to our second consecutive Jefferson site of the day. But when we pulled into the parking lot at the Natural Bridge, there was a steady drizzle, which forced my companions to breakout their umbrellas. I was impressed that they had the foresight to even bring umbrellas on the trip; I guess they learned their lesson when they got soaked in 2019. After paying the modest fee to enter the park, Tom and Bob began their hike to the natural wonder. Because of the rain, the numerous steps along the downhill pathway were rather slippery and my out-of-shape photographer had to take several “breathers” along the way. But once he huffed and puffed his way to an area near the shore of Cedar Creek, the majesty of the Natural Bridge came into view. I stood in complete awe as I gazed at the 215-foot-high natural arch that featured a 90-foot span at the base.

What I loved most about Natural Bridge was it had several Presidential connections. Around 1750, a young surveyor named George Washington came to the area and saw the natural wonder. To mark the occasion, Washington carved his initials into the rock wall about 23 feet above the creek – the “GW” could still be seen today. In 1774, Thomas Jefferson bought 157 acres of land from King George III for 20 shillings and the Natural Bridge was part of that purchase. When Jefferson saw the natural arch, he said: “It’s the most Sublime of nature’s works”. Not only did the future 3rd President build a two-room cabin near the arch, he also invited guests there to view the majestic bridge as well. Those guests included John Marshall, Henry Clay, Sam Houston, and two Presidents – James Monroe and Martin Van Buren. I was awestruck to visit the Natural Bridge which was once owned and visited by Thomas Jefferson. My painted eyes were looking at the same rock formations that Jefferson had looked at with his own eyes; it doesn’t get any better than that – unless it stopped raining.

While the hike out to the Natural Bridge seemed long, it was all downhill. That meant only one thing for my chunky photographer – the return trip was one hundred percent uphill. During the 15-minute walk back to the Visitor Center, Tom stopped to rest only about ten times. During one of his respites, however, the two of us were entertained by a couple of friendly dogs who were wetter than my photographer and I were. The canine’s owners, a couple of nice young ladies from Virginia, seemed to be very interested in my travels – or at least they pretended to be interested. Then out of nowhere, one of the women asked my photographer and me to pose with the dogs as she snapped a photo of us. Maybe the girls were fascinated with my Presidential quest after all – but the proof will be whether or not they read this section and ultimately post that photo of us.

We finally made it back to our vehicle at 1:20pm and Tom was anxious to get to the next stop for a much-anticipated late lunch or early dinner. But he and Mongo had no time to waste. My photographer’s intended lunch destination was the historic Michie Tavern near Charlottesville and that diner was over 80 miles from the Natural Bridge. To make matters worse, the famous tavern closed at 3:00pm. Tom did his best to avoid getting a speeding ticket along the route, while at the same time he tried to cruise well over the speed limit most of the way. At one point, near the interchange of I-81 and I-64, a vehicular accident had caused a significant traffic jam, which dimmed my companion’s chances of eating the Michie Tavern’s famous fried chicken dinner on that Sunday afternoon. We got lucky, the traffic cleared, and Tom pulled the Rogue into the tavern’s parking lot at precisely 2:40pm.

At our table, which was situated very close to the buffet line, I watched Tom and Mongo gorge themselves on fried chicken and the sides. At one point, I thought I needed safety glasses to protect my resin eyes from the flying fried chicken crust. I knew my photographer had wanted to try their chicken since 2019 when a worker at James Monroe’s Highland told my companions that Michie Tavern serves the best fried chicken in the state of Virginia. I wasn’t sure if that guy was accurate or not, until I heard Tom say to his friend: “Two years ago we heard this place had the best fried chicken in Virginia. I think that guy was wrong. They serve the best fried chicken in the entire country!”

During our 40 minutes of dining inside Michie Tavern, the rain had stopped, and the sunlight started poking through the overcast sky. In the parking lot where my photographer took several images of me near the historic tavern, Mongo found a good deal on a hotel in Charlottesville that was close to the University of Virginia. But since the weather had cleared, my companions made the unwavering decision to immediately head to the Shadwell site where Thomas Jefferson was born. That meant only one thing: The three of us would have to once again climb over the iron gate and walk onto private property to find the birthplace site. Two years earlier, we achieved our goal without any problems. But since then, Tom had discovered there was a small granite monument that marked the precise location of Shadwell; and we were hell-bent on returning to the site to find that marker.

Like any covert operation, the scheme should be well thought-out and planned to avoid any unnecessary trouble, which I believed was the case that day. Tom had planned the mission for Sunday afternoon for two reasons. The first was the need for an inconspicuous place to park the car. A business called Floor Fashions of Virginia was located across the road from the gate to the Shadwell property and my photographer figured that particular flooring business would be closed on Sunday. And the second reason: It wasn’t likely the farmer who owned the property would be working in his fields on Sunday afternoon.

Once we were parked at our pre-determined spot and Bob had strapped some plastic onto his lower legs as a deterrent to poison ivy, the three of us made our way across Highway 250 to the secured iron gate. My photographer and his friend were happy that the gate looked the same as it did two years earlier – it was locked, but they didn’t see any ‘Keep Out’, ‘No Trespassing’, or ‘Private Property’ signs whatsoever. In my heart, I don’t think those signs would’ve deterred them anyway. Tom and Bob might have felt guilty, but they wouldn’t have been denied going to the birthplace site of their favorite President.

Seconds after our arrival, I nearly fell out of my camera case in amazement – my rotund and not-so-agile camera guy had scaled the gate in record time. That guy has a hard time climbing out of bed in the morning, but he went over that gate as though a cattle prod had contacted his rear end. Once Mongo was over the barricade, which posed no problem for Bob , the three of us walked along the two-track path that took us to the promised land called Shadwell. Roughly halfway along the quarter-mile pathway to the site, we came upon something that we didn’t see in 2019 – there were cattle grazing in the fields. I knew my photographer became a little concerned with that discovery when he said to his friend: “I wonder what time the farmer comes out here to feed those cows? I hope it’s not while we’re here.”

Once we had made it to the same area as we had in 2019, my travel mates saw two brick outbuildings that stood above the waist-high weeds to the east of us. Tom had photographed me near one of those outbuildings during our previous visit, so I knew we were close to our final destination. Within seconds, my photographer spotted the top of the gray granite marker that was barely visible over the vegetation. With no visible path to take, Tom blazed a trail through the weeds, vines, pickers, ant hills, and anything else that could’ve been a trip hazard, until the two of us stood in front of that historic monument. To me, that four-foot high marker was an artistic masterpiece and the words etched into its face were priceless: “Here was born Thomas Jefferson – April 13, 1743 – Lover of Liberty”. During our previous visit to the site in 2019, we knew we were close to the Shadwell birthplace of Jefferson, but we didn’t know for sure how close. When I stood atop that granite marker on that Sunday afternoon, and then on Shadwell soil at the base of the monument, all doubt was removed. Greatness was born there and I was honored beyond words to stand and pay tribute to my favorite President at his birth site.

The three of us retraced our self-made path through the overgrowth and out to the farmer’s two-track that led back to the main highway. As we passed the cows for a second time, the bovine approached closer as though they expected to be fed. In my resin-filled mind, I figured it was feeding time, and we would likely cross paths with the farmer before we climbed back over the gate. Like all great historical trespassers who came before us have said: “It’s better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission.” Those were great words that Tom, Bob, and I live by each and every day of our travels. Even with that credo tickling the tips of our tongues, I was happy when I was transported back over the gate and was safely back in the Rogue.

My companions decided to register at the La Quinta Inn and Suites hotel before we attempted to visit other sites that evening. It was about 5:20pm when Tom and Bob had their luggage into our room, and they decided to relax for about an hour before we made the two-mile drive to the University of Virginia campus. During their downtime, my travel mates rehydrated and kicked back, but all they could talk about was their discreet visit to the Shadwell birthplace site of Thomas Jefferson. I couldn’t have agreed more. In the past eight years, I had visited countless of Presidential sites, most of which were a lot larger and more easily accessible than Shadwell. But the more I thought about it, I couldn’t think of any site that made more of an impact on me than that one. There’s no doubt it’s a tragedy that the birthplace of our 3rd President is on private property and not accessible to anyone else but us. Hopefully in the future, the Monticello Association will make an agreement with the landowner to build an accessible paved pathway out to the site so that historical lovers around the country can visit.

Rehydrated, refreshed, and rarin’ to go, I was carried back to our vehicle and rode with Tom and Mongo as they took me to the University of Virginia – the historic college founded in 1819 by Thomas Jefferson. When we arrived, parking was at a premium. We discovered the graduating Class of 2020 had a belated graduation ceremony earlier in the day that was held on The Lawn in front of The Rotunda. There were four sites that Tom and Bob had wanted to visit on campus – The Rotunda and The Lawn – both designed by Jefferson; Edgar Allan Poe’s room when he was a student at the university; and Monroe Hill – once the home and law office of James Monroe.

During our short hike to the Poe Room from our parking spot near Alderman Library, Tom and Bob quickly stumbled onto a historical plaque that mentioned James Monroe’s first farm site. There was no doubt that this site was also linked to Monroe Hill as well, because James Monroe purchased an 800-acre farm in 1789 and some of that property now hosts the University of Virginia. Monroe bought the land to be near his friend Thomas Jefferson, plus he needed a place to establish his law office. The Monroe’s lived on the property for roughly 11 years before James and his family moved to their new Highland plantation a few miles away. After I stood on the soil that was once owned by Monroe, the three of us headed down the street where we found Edgar Allan Poe’s small room. It turned out that the famous author and poet enrolled at the University of Virginia on February 14, 1826, but spent only one term at the college. Through the glass front door, we saw a bed, trunk, and a small desk. And of course, there were several ravens in the room as well; even though Poe didn’t pen his mysterious poem, ‘The Raven’, until 1845.

Although it was cool to see the Edgar Allan Poe room, the next site was one that I had anticipated since Tom put the agenda together. The three of us had planned on visiting Monroe Hill in 2019, but the early morning rain that day at UVA prevented us from seeing the historic building. Monroe Hill was a large two-story brick building where James Monroe and his family once lived while on the 800-acre parcel that he purchased in 1789. During his time at Monroe Hill, the future 5th President practiced law from the impressive house. Once I had posed for several photos with the exterior of Monroe Hill, Tom carried me up onto the porch and tried to open the door. The next thing I knew, I was being taken from room to room in the lower level of the house. At first, Bob followed us inside, but he quickly exited for a reason we heard later. When I stood on the wooden staircase, I believed it was the same stairs once used by James Monroe – and that was really cool in my mind. During the minute or so I stood on those historic stairs, I could hear some people moving around on the second floor. And that was okay, at least until I heard some dogs bark; it seemed as though the ferocious canines were inside the house as well. Did the people on the upper floor let their dogs loose on my photographer and me? Tom hurriedly whisked me outside where we reunited with Bob in the front yard, which was when he told us he saw a ‘Private Residence’ sign on the front door and that’s why he left so quickly. I guess it paid for my photographer to not be very observant.

Tom and I had escaped a potential embarrassing situation at Monroe Hill, but it was worth it. Before the trip began, I had wondered if we would be able to find the historic house or even make it onto the campus to see it. However, when we travel with Bob Moldenhauer, we seem to boldly go where no man (or bobble head) has gone before.

From Monroe Hill, we began the one-block hike to The Lawn, which was the vast grassy area Thomas Jefferson had designed and constructed between The Rotunda and Old Cabell Hall. In my resin mind, I had envisioned the three of us alone on The Lawn where we’d capture a ton of images without others in our photos. That wasn’t going to happen on that Sunday; at least not a few hours after the belated graduation ceremony for the Class of 2020. There were a lot of cap-and-gowned students in that area; they were celebrating and snapping photos with their parents and friends. The more I thought about it, though, having the students in some of our images was pretty cool. After all, it was the college that Thomas Jefferson had founded.

As we walked on The Lawn towards the historic Rotunda, Tom placed me onto the grass where I posed for a handful of photos. Once again, I stood in the footsteps of Thomas Jefferson and his beautifully designed Rotunda served as the backdrop. When we finished on the south side of The Rotunda, the three of us made our way to the north side of the building where I posed with the famous statue dedicated to the University of Virginia’s founder. The larger-than-life bronze statue to Thomas Jefferson stood prominently in front of The Rotunda, and I was happy to see that it was still there. At that moment, I knew how Francis Scott Key felt when he saw the giant flag over Fort McHenry was still flying in the breeze after the bombardment by the British. It’s no secret that Jefferson’s controversial, and at times hypocritical, past has caused some people to vandalize his likenesses and to protest his ideals. And the statue dedicated to the Founder of the University of Virginia has been a target over the years as well.

We must always keep in mind that the statues and memorials that honor Thomas Jefferson weren’t constructed because he kept enslaved people in bondage. Not at all. As a matter of fact, Jefferson penned the words: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” Some have written that Jefferson was a rapist and a racist. But let me hop up onto my soapbox to say this – the Thomas Jefferson that I honor with my likeness and by walking in his footsteps was a lawyer, archaeologist, agriculturist, horticulturist, surveyor, architect, inventor, author, philosopher, statesman, ambassador, Founder of the University of Virginia, second Governor of Virginia, First Secretary of State, Second Vice President, and Third President of the United States. At the age of 33, Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence in just two weeks. What’s not widely known was Jefferson wrote a 168-word passage in the original draft of the Declaration that condemned slavery; but that passage was omitted from the final document thanks to the South Carolina and Georgia delegates to the Continental Congress. Was Thomas Jefferson perfect? Not at all; but I can’t imagine the United States today without Thomas Jefferson dedicated to guiding its formation. It’s still the greatest country on this planet and everyday a lot of people risk everything, including their own lives and the lives of their children, to get across our borders and into the United States of America. That’s why I honor and pay homage to Thomas Jefferson – a true American patriot.

When we left The Rotunda and walked back to the Rogue, I had an extra bounce in the spring around my neck. Thomas Jefferson had wanted to be remembered for only three things; being the Founder of the University of Virginia was one of them. We made it back to the La Quinta at around 7:45pm; Tom immediately placed me alongside the television set while he worked on the NASCAR statistics for the fantasy league he leads. At 10:30pm, my photographer turned out the lights and I was left in the darkness alone with my thoughts.

I was extremely excited for our Monday morning visit to Monticello; and unlike 2019, I will be able to pose for photos in each room of the house. That’s right – the ‘No Photography’ rule was lifted, and tours of the historic home will be conducted on a self-guided basis. “Self-Guided” has always been my two favorite words when it came to touring historic places and since Monticello was my favorite home in America, there was no telling where I might be photographed standing. Patrick Henry once said: “Give me Liberty, or give me death”. A famous bobble head, namely me, once said during a historic home tour: “Give me an inch, and I’ll take a mile.” We had no time constraints on Jefferson’s mountaintop and the weather forecast for the following day was sunshine with no chance of rain. Monticello and Mr. Jefferson – ready or not, here I come!