It was an easy 47-mile ride from Hyde Park to Kinderhook, New York. We arrived at Lindenwald, the home of President Martin Van Buren, at precisely 4:00pm on Monday June 5, 2023; only to discover the last tour of the day had begun an hour earlier. In my mind, I figured we were out of luck – this late in the day, we’d be limited to seeing only the exterior and the grounds of the historic home. But as soon as Tom stopped our rented Ford Explorer in the parking lot, close to a tent where two NPS Rangers were seated, Bob Moldenhauer jumped out of the vehicle and went to work on the pair of women. I’m not sure if he flashed his patented smile, or if he charmed them with his charm, wit and dry sense of humor, but Mongo returned to the Explorer and said: “We’re in. Molly said she’ll take us on a tour of the house if we leave right now.”
Molly turned out to be NPS Ranger Molly Maron, and she couldn’t have been friendlier or more knowledgeable when it came to Martin Van Buren and his home Lindenwald. Soon after the four of us had completed the short walk from the ranger’s tent to the mansion, my companions and I were once again hit over the heads with a heavy dose of disappointment – construction equipment and orange fencing obstructed the entire front of Van Buren’s mansion. I couldn’t believe my painted eyes – for the second time that day, the exterior of a historic President’s home was in the midst of a construction project. It was like déjà vu all over again. Molly apologized and told my companions the ongoing roof work was necessary because rainwater had been damaging the upper rooms of the home.
Due to the ongoing construction, my companions and I entered the historic home through a side door, which for some strange reason seemed to disappoint Ol’ “Buffalo Bob”. During our entire tour of the home’s interior, Molly pointed out important aspects centered on the life of Martin Van Buren – the man, the father and grandfather, and of course, the President. What I found so amazing about Lindenwald was most of the furnishings inside the home were once used and owned by Van Buren during his lifetime.
The 36-room mansion was built roughly three miles south of downtown Kinderhook, New York in 1797. Martin Van Buren purchased the mansion and grounds in 1839 during his Presidency. Van Buren’s wife, Hannah, had died in 1819 at the age of 35 from tuberculosis and never knew her husband was elected President. When MVB was voted out of office in 1841, he returned to the estate he had named ‘Lindenwald’ where he lived, farmed, and stayed politically active until his death in 1862. As a matter of fact, Van Buren ran two unsuccessful Presidential campaigns from his home. In 1844, MVB lost the Democratic nomination to James K. Polk; then in 1848, his bid for the Presidency as a ‘Free Soil Party’ candidate ultimately helped Zachary Taylor get into the White House. The 5′ 6″ Van Buren was small in stature, but he was a fiery politician who loved our country. More importantly, however, he loved his five children and his grandchildren – all of whom called Lindenwald their home.
When our visit to Lindenwald’s interior had finished around 4:45pm, Molly led us back outside where we parted ways with the young ranger. Both Tom and Bob were deeply indebted to her for leading us on an “after hours” private tour of the historic home. I had mixed feelings about our tour guide, however, solely because she refused to grant me permission to stand on Van Buren’s deathbed, which wouldn’t have hurt a darned thing. It wasn’t as though my fat photographer asked to take a nap on Martin’s bed, although I’m sure that crossed his mind.
The last fifteen minutes of our time on the grounds was filled by my two companions as they escorted me around the entire perimeter of Lindenwald. And once I got a real good look at the grounds, especially the expansive front yard, I was thoroughly disgusted. Perhaps it was due to the lack of rain, or maybe it was partially brought on by staffing shortages, but the lawn appeared diseased, brown, and on the verge of a weed or bug-infested death. Martin Van Buren’s beloved home deserved better, and in my opinion, our government needs to allocate sufficient funds to keep historic sites like Lindenwald and its grounds from falling into disrepair. History must be preserved for future generations, or it will be lost forever.
Back in the Explorer, the three of us headed towards, and then past, downtown Kinderhook where our final destination was Martin Van Buren’s final destination as well – the Kinderhook Dutch Reformed Church Cemetery. It took less than ten minutes for Tom to make the 3.4-mile drive to the historic burial ground. During my first two visits to Van Buren’s grave in 2017 and 2020, my photographer parked alongside Albany Avenue and he carried me to the gravesite. But on this trip, Tom carefully guided our SUV into the cemetery, and he parked within 20 yards of Van Buren’s final resting place.
America’s eighth President, Martin Van Buren, died at the age of 79 on July 24, 1862. After lying in state at Lindenwald for three days, likely in the mansion’s Main Hall, Van Buren’s funeral services were conducted at 1:30pm on July 28th in the Kinderhook Dutch Reformed Church. The services were not attended by President Abraham Lincoln, who was busy with the Civil War. The highest public official in attendance was New York Governor E. D. Morgan. Following the simple funeral service, Van Buren’s rosewood coffin was escorted to the church cemetery by Kinderhook’s Fire Company No. 2 and a long line of mourners.
Tom carried me from our vehicle, through a menagerie of tombstones, until we arrived at the 15-foot-tall granite obelisk which marked the graves of Martin Van Buren and his wife Hannah. I had to admit, even though it was my third visit to Van Buren’s final resting place, it’s one of the most ordinary and unassuming Presidential gravesites in the country. I posed for a handful of images, including one photo where I stood on the small footstone marker engraved with the initials M.V.B.
For the third time in my illustrious bobble head career, I bid farewell to the final resting place of our eighth President. But we weren’t finished with Martin Van Buren sites in Kinderhook quite yet. As a matter of fact, we were only halfway done with them. Located exactly one mile from the site where Martin Van Buren’s earthly remains were buried, my companions found the site where baby Maarten Van Buren entered the world on December 5, 1782.
Abraham Van Buren and is wife Maria owned an inn and tavern on the southern outskirts of Kinderhook. When their third son was born, they had no way of knowing he would one day become the first President born an American citizen. That’s right, all of Martin Van Buren’s predecessors were born prior to the Declaration of Independence and thus were born British citizens.
Unfortunately, the Van Buren birthplace had fallen into disrepair over the years and was demolished in the 1940s. When Tom pulled the Explorer onto the shoulder of Hudson Street, the only thing I saw was a historic marker on the west side of the road. As I stood in the grass close to the marker, I tried my best to envision the inn and tavern in the background. Was I standing on the soil where young Maarten once romped as a small child? I wanted to believe that.
Our time at Van Buren’s birth site lasted less than ten minutes, which was fine because there was nothing to see but a seven-foot-high sign alongside the road. Tom pulled a U-turn along Hudson Street and headed for the downtown section of Kinderhook. I barely had time to get settled into my camera case when my photographer pulled into the parking lot of the Kinderhook Dutch Reformed Church. We had arrived at 5:45pm – I knew the time because there was a clock high up on the church’s steeple. While the church looked old, was it the same building where President Van Buren had been baptized and where his funeral was held?
Unfortunately, the answer to both of those questions was ‘No’. Following the future President’s birth on December 5, 1782, he was baptized ten days later as Maarten Van Buren, which was the Dutch spelling of his first name. The church building where Van Buren was baptized, which was the second Dutch Reformed Church’s in town, no longer exists. A third Dutch Reformed Church was built in 1814, which was the place of worship where Van Buren’s funeral was conducted on July 28, 1862 – but sadly that building was severely damaged by fire in 1867 and was replaced in 1869 by the church I was standing alongside. As I posed for a handful of images near the exterior of the Dutch Reformed Church, I was in fact standing at the site of Van Buren’s funeral service. Although the doors were locked and we couldn’t get inside, I stood on the front steps and envisioned the President’s funeral procession lined up along Broad Street as it headed for Kinderhook Cemetery, escorted by the Kinderhook Fire Company No. 2 and a never-ending line of mourners.
When the three of us got back into our vehicle in the church parking lot, our Van Buren sites were finished for the day; as well as the entire trip, for that matter. But we still had one site in Kinderhook left on our agenda, and it was located just a short distance from the church along Broad Street. But instead of walking the two hundred yards to the site, Tom insisted on driving because…well, let’s just say it had been a long day.
A two-story brick home was the first thing I saw when my photographer removed me from the camera case. The building looked very old, and according to legend, it was where the infamous Revolutionary War General, Benedict Arnold, was brought to recover after he was wounded on October 7, 1777 at the Battle of Bemis Heights. Arnold was once a hero, and he was revered a gallant hero when he took a British musket ball in the leg at the Battle of Bemis Heights near Saratoga, New York. But less than three years later, Arnold went from Bemis to Butthead when he became the most famous traitor in American history after he secretly arranged for the British to easily seize control of West Point.
I was confused while posing for photos near the exterior of the historic Kinderhook home. The reason for my skepticism was due to the fact Benedict Arnold was severely wounded roughly 45 miles north of Kinderhook, near present-day Stillwater, New York. Why would he be transported that far south to recover? But, if he did stay in the “Benedict Arnold House” in Kinderhook, was it within those walls where he began to hatch plans to betray the American cause? Even though I’m not a fan of Benedict Arnold, I did my best to smile for the camera as Tom snapped a handful of images of me near the historic home.
While it seemed as though the three of us had spent most of the afternoon in Kinderhook, we were in fact in town for only two hours – half of which was at Lindenwald. When we departed the small Dutch community where President Martin Van Buren called home, we began the 25-mile drive north to our final scheduled stop of the day – the grave of our 21st President Chester Arthur.
I was anxious to visit President Arthur’s grave again. My first trip to Albany Rural Cemetery in Menands, New York, which was slightly north of downtown Albany, was on July 8, 2017. I got lucky during my first visit – just as my photographer finished with his photos while I posed on Arthur’s ornate monument, it began to rain. But on this afternoon, there was no rain in the forecast – even though the sky was overcast with a slight haze in the air.
Albany Rural Cemetery was established on October 7, 1844, and over the years it has been renowned as one of the most beautiful, pastoral cemeteries in the entire United States. When we arrived at the expansive 400-acre burial ground, however, I was stunned to see how poorly maintained the cemetery had become. For as far as my painted eyes could see, tall weeds and long grass obscured most of the headstones in the cemetery. It was a disgusting site, and as my companions searched for Arthur’s tombstone, I was worried the unsightly growth of vegetation would obscure the President’s grave as well.
Chester Arthur died at the age of 57 on November 18, 1886, just twenty months after he left the White House. Arthur’s post-presidency was the second shortest of all Presidents who lived past their time in office; James K. Polk died just three months after his term had concluded. Three days following his death, Arthur’s funeral was conducted in New York City and then he was laid to rest in a sarcophagus next to his wife, Nell, who died on January 12, 1880 at the age of 42. Three years following his interment in Albany Rural Cemetery, a monument was placed on the corner burial plot, which featured a giant bronze female angle placing a bronze palm leaf on Arthur’s sarcophagus.
I was pleasantly surprised, and somewhat stunned, when Tom carried me up and placed me on Arthur’s ornate monument. The grounds close to where the President’s grave was located had been kept neatly trimmed, unlike the rest of the huge cemetery. As I stood on the bronze palm leaf, however, I noticed some of the headstones across the roadway were in dire need of some TLC and weed whacking. From my close proximity, I also noticed the face of the bronze angel reminded me of Rocky Balboa after he got his butt kicked by Apollo Creed.
During my visit to the weed-infested Albany Rural Cemetery, I began to wonder if ticks could bite into resin. Even though I love visiting Presidential gravesites, and Arthur’s was my third such grave of the day, I was happy and relieved to be headed to our hotel where I knew I wouldn’t be standing in head-high weeds next to the television set.
By 6:50pm, which was four hours earlier than the previous night, the three of us arrived at the Tru by Hilton near the Albany airport. Once my companions were registered and unpacked, Tom placed me alongside the television set while he and Mongo headed off to the nearby Texas Roadhouse for dinner. I’m happy my photographer didn’t drag me along. I knew he was hungry, and it’s not a pretty sight when Tom hasn’t eaten much all day.
My companions had returned to our room by eight o’clock, which gave my camera guy plenty of time to finish his NASCAR fantasy league statistics before he retired to bed a little before eleven. As I stood in the darkness and listened as my photographer digested his steak throughout the night, a 1958 tune by Little Richard popped into my resin head. Over and over the song ran through my mind, and it went a little something like this:
“From the early, early morning til the early, early night, I heard Miss Molly talkin’ at the Martin Van Buren site.
Good Golly, Miss Molly, I know what you said. My tour would’ve been finer, had I stood on Martin’s bed.
Good Golly, Miss Molly, I wouldn’t stand there long. You were a rockin’ and a rollin’, tho I felt you were wrong.
Then I went to the corner, near Martin’s shaving stand. Molly kept me off the bed, perhaps she couldn’t understand.
Good Golly, Miss Molly, the bed’s where I need to stand? Cuz I’m the most famous bobble head, in the history of our land!
Good Golly, Miss Molly. Good Golly, Miss Molly. Will you let me stand on that bed?”
** THIS POST IS DEDICATED TO NPS RANGER MOLLY MARON FOR TAKING THE TIME TO GIVE THE THREE OF US AN AFTER-HOURS PRIVATE TOUR OF LINDENWALD. GOOD GOLLY, THANK YOU MISS MOLLY! **
I liked the Bemis and Butthead joke regarding Benedict Arnold. Just when I thought that your jokes were getting better, you prove me wrong with your Good Golly Miss Molly!
I also want to thank Ranger Molly for her willingness to give us the tour of Lindenwald.
Good Golly Bob, I’m glad you enjoyed the Bemis and Butthead part. I laughed to myself when I wrote it.