Tuesday April 30, 2024 began when Tom’s alarm rang at 6:00am in our room at the Baymont Hotel in Augusta, Georgia. The first thing my photographer did when he rose out of bed was to remove my bandages to see if the surgery he had performed was successful or not. It was important I looked my best because that Tuesday morning was our much anticipated and well-orchestrated tour of Woodrow Wilson’s boyhood home. Usually, that historic home is closed on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday of every week. However, after a series of emails with Erick Montgomery, who is the Executive Director and head honcho of the site, my photographer was penciled-in for a special VIP tour of the home that was slated for ten o’clock. Since we were just over six miles from the Wilson home, my companions had plenty of time to get ready to take on the day. As a matter of fact, I heard Tom tell his wife he planned on stopping at two other sites prior to our arrival at the boyhood home of our 28th President.
One interesting fact I noticed after my photographer got rolling that morning was his wife seemed to be dragging her butt a bit. It’s no secret, Presidential sites don’t hold her interest as much as the influencers on her Instagram account do. However, when Tom sprinkles in a couple of sites associated with the Signers of the Declaration of Independence along with the Presidents, it makes matters even worse for her.
With Vicki behind the wheel of our Jeep and my camera guy barking out directions, we left the hotel at roughly 8:20am and were headed to our first site of the day – which I heard Tom mention was the Partridge Inn. After a five-mile drive which took us past Augusta National Golf Club, which is home to the annual Masters Tournament on the PGA Tour, my photographer’s wife found a place to park in the lot of a business located across the side-street from the Inn. When my enthusiastic, camera-toting fat friend carried me to the front of the huge hotel, I posed for a handful of images around the exterior of the historic building.
The Partridge Inn was built in 1836 as the home of Daniel and Elizabeth Meigs, who were originally from Connecticut. The Meigs built their new home on property was once owned by George Walton, former governor of Georgia and one of the three representatives from the Peach State who signed the Declaration of Independence.
In 1892, the building was purchased by Morris Partridge, who was likely an ancestor of Keith, Laurie, and Danny from the 1960s musical Partridge Family. Morris transformed the building into his home and a small hotel. When business began to boom after the turn of the century, the small hotel became the 60-room Partridge Inn and opened on January 8, 1910. Over the years, the Partridge Inn played host to a plethora of celebrities, heads of state, athletes, and business magnates from all over the country. The hotel has also been allegedly haunted by a ghost named Emily, who roams the corridors, rooms, and other areas of the historic building in her wedding dress. For over 100 years, the story has been told that Emily’s fiancé was riding his horse into town on their wedding day for the ceremony when he was mistaken for a soldier wanted for treason. He was shot; fell from his horse; and was dead before he hit the ground. Grief-stricken, Emily wore the wedding dress for several weeks before she died of a broken heart. Because of the regular sightings of the ghost bride by guests and staff alike, the Partridge Inn is considered one of the most haunted places in Augusta.
While Emily’s story was intriguing, she wasn’t the reason Tom had the Partridge Inn centered in his crosshairs. It turned out a gala banquet was held at The Partridge on April 6, 1923 for President Warren G. Harding. After the event, it was dubbed as the greatest banquet in Augusta history. Just 75 days after Harding was honored at the Partridge Inn, he and his wife Florence left on their must heralded ‘Voyage of Understanding’. The President never finished that cross-country trip as he died in San Francisco of a heart attack on August 2, 1923 at the age of 57.
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Although the Partridge Inn wasn’t one of the more significant Presidential sites I had ever visited, I was glad Tom brought me there. During the ten-minute visit, it was easy to envision the hoopla centered on President Harding during the 1923 gala in his honor. When the festivities were over and Harding left the Partridge behind, no one knew the 29th President had only 118 days left to live. And that made me wonder; had Harding died in the Partridge Inn rather than the Palace Hotel, would the President have walked the halls for eternity with Emily? Would that union have mended their broken hearts?
Back in the Jeep, the three of us headed east into downtown Augusta where Tom directed us to an important gravesite he had first visited in 1991. When Vicki found free, unmetered parking along Greene Street, she stayed in the vehicle while Tom carried me to the impressive obelisk known as the Signers Monument.
Dedicated on July 4, 1848, the Signers Monument was a 50-foot-tall granite obelisk erected in the median at the intersection of Greene and Monument Streets. At the time, the obelisk was situated directly in front of Augusta City Hall, which seemed appropriate. Today, the building is known as the Augusta-Richmond County Municiple Building, but still serves as the place where the mayor and other city officials of Augusta conduct their business.
The Signers Monument was originally intended to be the final resting place of all three Georgia signatories of the Declaration of Independence – George Walton, Lyman Hall, and Button Gwinnett. When it came time to dig up the Signers from their original graves and re-inter them beneath the monument, however, only Walton and Hall’s remains were located – Hall on the grounds of his plantation, and Walton on the grounds of his nephew’s plantation. Gwinnett, on the other hand, died a few days after his duel with Lachlan McIntosh and was reportedly buried in Colonial Park Cemetery in Savannah, but no one knew at the time where his old bones were.
As I stood on the base of the massive obelisk, I took a moment to pay my personal tribute to both brave men who gave their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor to help insure our independence from Great Britain. After the two men penned their ‘John Hancock’ on the historic Declaration of Independence on August 2, 1776, their lives were anything but easy. Walton was shot by the British, captured, and he spent time in prison. Hall’s plantation home, Sunbury, was burned by the British; forcing his family to flee north. Both men served the public for most of their remaining days on Earth.
George Walton likely died at his Augusta home, Meadow Garden, on February 2, 1804 at the ripe old age of 54.
Hall, who resumed his practice as a doctor after his political career ended, passed away at his plantation ‘Montville’ on October 19, 1790. Hall was 66 years old when he died.
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After our fifteen-minute visit at the Signers Monument had ended, I looked into my photographer’s eyes and could tell the reunion with that obelisk was special to him. After all, when he and Moldenhauer took their copies of the Declaration of Independence to the site on May 28, 1991, Tom was only 34 years old. I laughed when I thought about another fact – my photographer was not only twice as old now, he’s also twice the size he was in 1991. I guess that was all due to the high inflation we’ve experienced over the past 33 years.
It was only 9:15am and Woodrow Wilson’s boyhood home was less than two blocks away. But since Tom didn’t want to take a chance of being late, he asked his wife to drive to the historic home where we’d wait for our ten o’clock scheduled tour. That extra time worked out well because it gave my photographer an opportunity to capture exterior images of the historic home before we toured the interior.
The two-story brick home was constructed in 1859 and served as the manse for the First Presbyterian Church that was located diagonally across 7th Street. In 1858, Dr. Joseph Ruggles Wilson moved his family, including the future President, from Staunton. Virginia to Augusta where he served as minister of the church. For their first two years in Augusta, the Wilson’s lived in a different Presbyterian manse on Greene Street; but moved to the home in front of me in January 1860. The Wilsons were the first occupants of the manse.
During the ten years the future President lived in the manse, Thomas Woodrow Wilson experienced the American Civil War and the Reconstruction Era that followed. As a matter of fact, Wilson’s earliest memory of his time in Augusta came in 1860, stating years later as Governor, “My first recollection is of standing at my father’s gateway in Augusta, Georgia, when I was four years old and hearing someone pass and say that Mr. Lincoln was elected and there was to be war.” Even though Wilson left the region as a young adult, he regarded himself as a southerner for the rest of his life. In fact, the President believed the South was fully justified in seceding from the Union.
Tom spent a little over twenty minutes as he photographed me posing at various spots around the front of the house. When we were finished with those images, my photographer decided to take me to the Visitor Center, which was in fact the Joseph R. Lamar Boyhood Home located next to the Wilson home. Shortly after Tom knocked on the front door, the two of us were face to face with the Executive Director of the Woodrow Wilson Boyhood Home, Erick Montgomery.
For the next hour, while Vicki remained in the Jeep, the two of us followed Erick as he guided us through every room of the home, which had been restored to the year 1860. Even though Montgomery said he generally doesn’t lead tours, as the site has several trained docents who guide visitors though the historic home every Wednesday through Sunday, Erick donned his tour guide hat on that morning because the home wasn’t open to the public on Tuesday.
During our VIP tour, which began in the parlor and ended in the back yard of the home, Erick Montgomery dazzled the two of us with his knowledge of Wilson’s time in Augusta. And, with his first-hand experience as Executive Director of the site, our guide also talked about the behind-the-scenes aspects of what it took to restore the home after it was purchased at auction in 1991 by Historic Augusta, Inc. As it turned out, that was the same year my photographer first saw the boyhood home of Woodrow Wilson when he and Bob Moldenhauer stopped there on their well-documented Declaration of Independence adventure.
Without further ado, please check out Tom’s photographs from the Woodrow Wilson Boyhood Home in Augusta, Georgia – all thanks to the generosity of Mr. Erick Montgomery.
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For the past hour, my photographer and I had been hooked on every word that came out of Erick Montgomery’s mouth. When we crossed the threshold and walked into the historic manse with our incredible docent, we entered a world that defined who our 28th President was. Woodrow Wilson learned to read and write in that home; he got his first taste of leadership there; his devout Presbyterian faith had grown there; and he saw the horrors of war unfold before his eyes while living in Augusta.
At 10:45am, my photographer and I bid farewell to our gracious tour guide and returned to the Jeep where Vicki was fast asleep. I was surprised when my photographer’s wife declined the invitation to join us on the Wilson home tour, but overall, she’s been a good trooper over the past thirteen days of travel. So good, in fact, Vicki didn’t seem to mind when Tom asked her to drive him to the front of the First Presbyterian Church instead of him making the short hike across the street with me in hand.
As soon as his wife parked the Jeep along Telfair Street near the front of the historic church, I heard the sound of children giggling as they played in the churchyard. For the past eleven years that I’ve travelled around the country with my photographer, he does his best to stay away from young kids and he makes sure they don’t appear in any of his images. It’s not that Tom doesn’t like children, because he’s a grandfather of four, but he respects the privacy of minors. Because of his steadfast ideals concerning children, I knew the two of us weren’t going anywhere near the First Presbyterian Church as the yard near the building was filled with youngsters.
The First Presbyterian Church of Augusta was built in 1812, but it didn’t take on a historical importance until 1858. That was the year Joseph Ruggles Wilson, Sr. came to Augusta from Staunton, Virginia and was hired by the church as its pastor. A few years later, the church was transformed into a hospital to treat soldiers wounded in the American Civil War; while the grounds around the place of worship became a detention camp for Union prisoners captured in the Battle of Chickamauga.
But in my painted blue eyes, the church was a Presidential site – even though Tom didn’t plan on taking me inside to the sanctuary where the well-marked Wilson pew was located. Instead, I stood just inside the front gate and posed for a single image with the church behind me. During those few minutes, I thought about Governor Woodrow Wilson as he visited his old stomping grounds on November 19, 1911. On that particular Sunday, the future President walked through the doors behind me and worshipped in the church where his father once preached. Without knowing for sure, it’s likely that visit to the First Presbyterian Church in Augusta was Thomas Woodrow Wilson’s last.
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While the children still giggled and played around the churchyard, likely without a single thought about the historic significance of where they were playing, Tom and I piled back into the Jeep. With my photographer’s well-orchestrated navigational skills in full force, Vicki drove the three of us to our final destination in Augusta – which was located a little over a mile west of the church. Earlier that morning, I had paid my respects at the final resting place of Declaration of Independence Signer George Walton. When we pulled into the parking lot located near Augusta’s historic Meadow Garden, Tom planned on taking me into the home where the Signer lived for the last thirteen years of his life.
My photographer’s wife decided once again she did not want to join us on a tour of a historic site. Instead, she opted to relax on a nearby bench where she enjoyed watching her influencers on Instagram.
The last time Tom had visited Meadow Garden was on his Declaration of Independence tour in 1991. Now, thirty-three years later, it was evident some renovations had been made to the grounds of the historic home. While the house looked relatively the same as it did years ago, a Visitor Center had been constructed in the recent past and was where my photographer took me after I had posed for a handful of pictures around the exterior of George Walton’s home.
At 11:30am, the two of us followed our docent from the Visitor Center, along a pathway, and up the steps of the historic home. Once inside, Tom held me for ransom. That’s right, my camera guy didn’t waste any time introducing me to our docent, whose name was Ransom Schwerzler and is the Director of the site. While our amiable tour guide seemed genuinely impressed when she heard about some of the historic sites I’d visited in the past, she was also very hesitant to allow me to stand on any of the furnishings or artifacts inside the home. Then it happened, and it hit me over the head like a lead pipe. Just as Tom carefully placed me on the fireplace mantel, Ransom compared me to Flat Stanley, who has been a thorn in my resin butt for the past decade or so. When Tom politely explained how much I loathed that flat bastard, Ms. Schwerzler flashed her huge smile and said I looked a lot better and more handsome than my evil counterpart. I had to admit, her comment made me forget all about Flat Stanley – especially when I found out Schwerzler was a proud, card-carrying member of the Daughters of the American Revolution.
Meadow Garden is a 1 1/2-story, wood-frame Sand Hills cottage that was originally built in 1791 by Founding Father George Walton. An addition was built sometime after 1800, and so was the expansive front porch. Walton lived in the home from the time it was built until his death in 1804, which happened on February 2nd. While it’s not known for sure whether or not the famous Signer died at Meadow Garden, it is a certainty that his funeral procession originated from the home.
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When our tour of Meadow Garden had finished around 12:15pm, Ransom led us back outside where we parted ways with our amazing tour guide and reunited with Tom’s wife at the Jeep. We had spent the past four hours walking in the footsteps of some of Augusta’s most prominent historical figures, plus I got to see a handful of the sites where history was made in The Garden City.
The biggest disappointment during our visit to Augusta was not being able to visit the Eisenhower Cabin, which was located near the 10th tee at Augusta National, the golf course that plays host to The Masters – one of the most prestigious tournaments on the PGA tour. That cabin was built in 1953 for President Dwight Eisenhower and his wife, First Lady Mamie Eisenhower. It turned out Ike had become a member of Augusta National in 1948, and after the cabin had been designed by the Secret Service and built for the President, Eisenhower stayed there 29 times during his two terms as Chief Executive.
I thought maybe, just maybe, since my photographer’s name was Tom Watson and there was a PGA legend by the same name who won The Masters in 1977 and again in 1981, we might have a chance to make it onto the course to see the historic Presidential cabin. But since “My Tom” didn’t bring a green jacket on the trip, nor did he want to jeopardize the rest of our trip by getting arrested, we left Augusta with our taste buds yearning for one more bite of Presidential history.
Vicki drove the Jeep north over the Savannah River as the three of us headed for our day’s next destination, which was the State Capitol Building in Columbia, South Carolina. But during the 73-mile journey, the sky began to darken and there was a definite threat of rain in the air. While I didn’t want a downpour to ruin the four Presidential sites Tom had scheduled the three of us to visit in Columbia, I was more concerned about the final stop of the day, which was located out in the middle of nowhere on the South Carolina – North Carolina border.
For it was on a desolate, dead-end road, surrounded by a forest of thick trees near the border, where Andrew Jackson was born in 1767. But more importantly, at least to my photographer and me, it was also where our possible Sasquatch encounter was born in 2020.
Suddenly, as we got close to Columbia, Tom sprung the news to his wife that he wanted to re-visit the Sasquatch site before we found a hotel for the night. Out of the blue, my camera guy mentioned it would be the day’s last stop as Tom wanted to conduct his own Big Foot investigation before dark. Once again, Vicki simply rolled her eyes and didn’t say a word.
** This post is dedicated to Erick Montgomery for guiding me and my photographer on a VIP Tour of the Woodrow Wilson Boyhood Home on a day when the historic site was closed to the public. Thank you, Erick, for your time, knowledge, and hospitality! **
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Brings back some great memories from 1991 (truly half a lifetime ago, and oh the places you have gone since then!). It was awesome that Erick gave you the VIP tour. It seems that the people who work at historic sites appreciate it when they run into someone who is passionate about history(with the exception of the guy who was at Grant’s cottage).
All of the D of I sites I’ve taken the bobble head to in the past eleven years have brought back a flood of memories from the most amazing trip I’ve ever been on. Thanks for the comment, Bob, and for being the greatest friend anyone could ever have.