98: THE OUTLAW OF SHERWOOD FOREST

As usual, our alarm clock went off at precisely 6:00am. The first thing my photographer did when he rolled out of bed on Monday May 13, 2019 was to open the curtains and check the weather. For the second consecutive morning, there were rain sprinkles on the window and the sky appeared overcast. As a matter of fact, the forecast for the Richmond area wasn’t great – at least for the early part of the day. While my photographer usually doesn’t let the weather dampen his spirits, I could tell that Tom was concerned because a heavy downpour would ruin our time at Berkeley Plantation and its beautiful grounds. Since that historic plantation opened at 9:30am, there was still time for the clouds to dissipate before our rendezvous with Benjamin Harrison’s Berkeley.

Tom and Bob had the Acadia packed and we were headed north towards Berkeley Plantation, which was located at Harrison’s Landing near Charles City, Virginia. As we reached the north side of the James River, the rain stopped and the sky began to brighten. When we arrived at the entrance to Berkeley, our dashboard clock read 8:15am; we had over an hour to kill before the grounds were open to tourists. With the unexpected extra time, my photographer and his friend decided to drive to nearby Greenway Plantation, which was the birthplace home of tenth President John Tyler. There wasn’t a tour time for Greenway, as the historic dwelling was a private residence. Tom’s biggest concern, however, was whether or not they could get close enough to the house for good photos. Once we found Tyler’s plantation, which was harder than anticipated as the GPS coordinates were off, my photographer had the vehicle parked next to a historical marker that was situated across John Tyler Memorial Highway from the entrance to the driveway.

A white wooden fence, which luckily for us didn’t feature a gate, marked the entrance to Greenway Plantation. With no signs in place to detour visitors, the three of us headed up the long, two-track gravel driveway that led to the front of the 1 ½-story T-shaped wood-frame house. Greenway Plantation was built in 1775 by Judge John Tyler, Sr. On March 29, 1790, John Tyler, Jr., the future tenth President, was born in that house. When his father died in 1813, 23-year-old ‘Junior’ inherited Greenway and lived there until 1829, which was when he sold it and moved to nearby Sherwood Forest Plantation. Once we were directly in front of Greenway and close enough for my photographer to capture decent images of the Presidential birthplace, we stopped as I posed for several photos. Given the opportunity, I would’ve preferred to have stood on the porch or perhaps a window sill, but the three of us usually try to do our “best” to respect people’s private property; at least to some degree.

From the side of the road, Bob Moldenhauer captured the first images of Greenway Plantation. There was no way, however, that my two companions would settle for mediocre photos of John Tyler’s birthplace.
As I stood in the front yard of Greenway Plantation, I wanted to be photographed standing on the ornamental pillar that was directly in front of the house.
I was confident that when Tom, Bob, and I travel to Greenway in the future, we will walk closer to the historic birth house. But even at the distance I was from the plantation home, it was better than posing with the historical marker.
As my photographer captured one final image of Greenway Plantation, I envisioned the owners catching me standing on the pillar in front of us. After they heard our stories and seen my broken left ankle, we would’ve been invited inside the historic home. At that moment, I woke up and we headed back to the car.

During our walk back to the car, I could hear a sprinkle or two as it hit the top of the camera case. The rain likely wasn’t too bad as I didn’t hear Tom or Bob mention the droplets at all during the long walk along Greenway’s driveway. It took a little over ten minutes to retrace our path back to Berkeley Plantation from Tyler’s birthplace; but even at that, we were parked near the front of the historic Harrison mansion about 45 minutes early. The biggest concern for the three of us was whether or not the rain would hold off as we could see dark clouds through the clearing of the trees. Once Tom and Bob had purchased their tickets at the gift shop, the woman there gave us a ‘thumbs-up’ to start our tour of the grounds early.

As I stood in front of the three-story brick structure, which was one of the first plantations in America when it was built in 1726, I was in awe of the history that took place in that building and on the property. Benjamin Harrison V was born at Berkeley on April 5, 1726, but when his father, Benjamin Harrison IV, was shutting an upstairs window during a thunderstorm in July 1745, the elder Harrison and his daughter Hannah were killed when they were struck by lightning. After inheriting the plantation upon his father’s death, Benjamin V went on to be elected to the Continental Congress and he presided over the final debate of the Declaration of Independence. Then on August 2, 1776, Benjamin Harrison V affixed his signature onto the famous document; sealing his immortal place in American history.

I was excited while I stood at the carriage entrance to Berkeley Plantation upon our arrival at 8:45am. The chain behind me said they were closed; I said they were open.
When the main house at Berkeley Plantation was built in 1726 by Benjamin Harrison IV, it became one of the first three-story brick structures in Virginia.
When the house was built, Harrison had this date stone embedded into the East wall. He included his initials as well his wife Anne’s; along with the date 1726. I thought it was cool to see a heart etched into the mortar between the ‘B’ and the ‘A’.
In July and August 1862, Union General George McClellan and his 140,000 troops were encamped at Berkeley Plantation. During that time, Confederate General J.E.B. Stuart’s troops fired artillery at the historic house. A cannon ball was still embedded in the wall of the kitchen. Luckily, all of the exterior brick walls at Berkeley were three-feet thick.

Three years before he signed the Declaration, Benjamin’s son William Henry Harrison was born on February 9, 1773 in a second-story corner bedroom. A little over 68 years after William’s birth, he was elected as our ninth President; an office he held for only 31 days before dying in the White House. Even with William Henry’s death, he wasn’t the last Harrison to hold office as President. In 1889, William Henry Harrison’s grandson, Benjamin Harrison, was elected as our 23rd President.

After I had posed for a handful of images near the exterior of the Berkeley mansion, the three of us headed south through the elaborate tiered gardens and towards the James River. The silence of the morning air was deafening; only the whistles of the numerous cardinals and other birds broke the stillness. There were several interesting sites for us to visit during our walk towards the river. First, we stopped at the place where “Taps” was written and first played in 1862. Next, we visited the Harrison family cemetery and the final resting place of Benjamin Harrison V. While there, I stood on his small gravestone that looked like a brick chimney that rose out of the ground. Further along the pathway, not too far from the river’s edge, we came upon a monument that recognized the first Thanksgiving in America; which occurred at Berkeley. Near that brick structure, my photographer saw a bald eagle suddenly take to the air before it quickly was obscured by the dense foliage.

In July 1862, bugler Oliver Willcox Norton played ‘Taps’ for the first time ever at the Army of the Potomac camp during the Civil War. Brigadier General Daniel Butterfield had written the musical notes as a signal to extinguish lights.
The Harrison family burial ground at Berkeley Plantation.
It’s always an honor for me to pay tribute to a Signer of the Declaration of Independence. But Benjamin Harrison V was more than a Signer; he was the father of our ninth President.
A canopy of trees marked our path from the burial ground to the gardens of Berkeley.
During our walk towards the James River, we saw several black vultures. Those large birds are scavengers and feast on dead carcasses. I knew in my resin-filled heart that those vultures had sniffed-out my wounded leg.
This monument marked the approximate location where the first Thanksgiving in America occurred on December 4, 1619.
We found a depiction of the first Thanksgiving that was inside the arched monument. What was hard to believe was Captain John Woodlief’s ceremony was held one year and seventeen days before the Pilgrims landed in New England.

We had made our way back to the mansion and my photographer and his friend decided to take an interior tour of Berkeley Plantation’s main house; something that Tom was hesitant to do as photography was prohibited inside. At precisely 10:00am, we met our tour guide Clarence who was dressed in period clothing. During our walk towards the house, my photographer asked Clarence if we could see the room where William Henry Harrison was born. He said that room, like the others on the upper floors, were not open to the public. As a matter of fact, he mentioned that the current owner’s mother had died in the birth room and Jamie Jamieson kept the room exactly how it was when she passed away. As we stood near the river entrance to Berkeley, Clarence pointed to the second-floor room where William Henry was born.

Once inside, we could feel the presence of the Harrisons; and Clarence did his best to bring them to life for us. I had to laugh when he mentioned that whenever Thomas Jefferson would visit the Harrisons, he always tried to change the interior’s architecture; and at times he was known as the guest who would never leave. The dining room at Berkeley was amazing. We were told that the first ten Presidents had all dined in that room at one time or another. Perhaps the only place that can boast the same fact is the White House. But what really brought Berkeley to life for me was when Clarence talked about George Washington dancing in the main hallway. It turned out that our first President was the best dancer in the colonies and ladies would line up for hours to dance with him. As I looked at the original wooden floor, it was as though I could see General Washington as he two-stepped his way through the hallway and into the parlor. I would’ve given anything to stand on that floor for a photo, but Clarence never took his eyes off the three of us. Word must’ve gotten out after our visit to Monticello. When our tour was over and we were once again back outside, Tom asked Clarence to hold me for a photo; which he did just before we headed back to the Acadia.

I had a good look from the river-side of Berkeley at the second-story corner bedroom where William Henry Harrison had been born on February 9, 1773.
As I stood on the window sill just outside of the dining room, I couldn’t help but think of the Presidents who had dined there with the Harrisons. The first ten Presidents all “broke bread” with the Harrisons at Berkeley.
As I stood outside of the Berkeley dining room, I thought to myself: “If only those walls could talk, it would be amazing to learn what our early forefathers had discussed in that room”.
It made me smile when my photographer placed his camera against the window pane next to me and captured this image of the historic dining room.
When our interior tour of Berkeley had finished, Clarence proudly held me in his hands near the west side of the historic mansion.

It took roughly 20 minutes for my photographer to drive us to the next Presidential site; a historic home that was a little over 11 miles east of Berkeley Plantation. Our route took us past Greenway Plantation, which was John Tyler’s birthplace; to Sherwood Forest Plantation, Tyler’s home for the final twenty years of his life. About a month before the trip, Tom had reached out to the caretakers of Sherwood Forest as he sought permission to take pictures inside the historic home. Not only was he denied, it seemed as though the verdict came from President Tyler’s own grandson. When I heard that news, I couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t the fact that we couldn’t take photographs, we get that all the time. It was hearing that Harrison Ruffin Tyler, the President’s grandson, was still alive and well and living at Sherwood Forest. That boggled my resin-filled mind. How could our tenth President, a man who was born in 1790 and died in 1862, still have a grandchild who was still alive? Even though I knew we weren’t going inside the house, I had hoped that we would meet Harrison Tyler in the yard where perhaps he would hold me for a photograph.

After paying our donation fee at the entrance, which was required to walk the grounds, I was carried into the front yard where I had my first look at John Tyler’s Sherwood Forest Plantation. When I first heard that we were headed to Sherwood Forest, I thought we would run into Robin Hood and his Band of Merrie Men. But it turned out that when John Tyler purchased the plantation in 1842, he renamed it Sherwood Forest because it signified him being ‘outlawed’ by the Whig Party. The home was originally called Walnut Grove and was once owned by President William Henry Harrison; although he never lived there. It’s the only private home in America that was owned by two unrelated Presidents.

The first thing that I noticed when I looked at the historic home was its tremendous length. At over 300-feet long, Sherwood Forest is the longest frame house in America. While the main two-plus-story house was what Tyler had purchased while he was President, he added a 68-foot ballroom to the place as soon as he left the White House. He felt the extra space would cater to the popular dance of the time called the ‘Virginia Reel’ – which was similar to today’s line dancing. It seems as though our early Presidents all enjoyed “cutting the rug”.

Our first glimpse of Sherwood Forest was obscured by the bushes and trees that lined the entranceway.
Although we weren’t greeted by any of the Tyler’s during our visit, a calico cat followed us everywhere on the property.
Built in 1730 and originally named Walnut Grove, Sherwood Forest Plantation was the home of tenth President John Tyler for the last 20 years of his life.
While I stood alongside one of the two cast-iron dog statues on the front porch, I had wondered if Harrison Tyler was watching me through one of the windows.
The pair of cast-iron dog statues, once located at the Manor House on Gardiners Island, were purchased by Tyler in 1845-46. During the Civil War, Union soldiers tried to carry them off; but they soon abandoned the idea due to the extreme weight of the dogs.
I’m standing near a section of the house that President Tyler added in 1845. The small dependency room, located on the Western end of the home, was used by Tyler as his law office.
While I stood in the backyard of Sherwood Forest, I saw an ornamental sundial that was placed in the garden by the President’s wife Julia Gardiner Tyler. I wanted to stand on top of the sundial, but my photographer refrained from stepping onto the flowers that surrounded the pedestal.
As I looked at the frog that graced the top of the sundial, I thought it was amazing that the historic piece had survived the Civil War. Although troops camped on the property and destroyed most of Tyler’s gardens, they left the sundial in place.
In 1859, John Tyler selected this fenced-in area near the front of Sherwood Forest to be the site of his final resting place. When he died three years later, Julia had his body buried in Richmond because the Union Army occupied the property at Sherwood Forest.

The three of us walked the property for about 45 minutes and saw the house from different vantage points. A calico cat followed us wherever we went; almost as though she thought she was our personal tour guide. I posed near John Tyler’s law office at the Western end of the house; and then again near the sundial that Julia Gardiner Tyler had placed in her garden before the Civil War. Near the end of our walking tour, I was placed onto the grass in a fenced-in area. That area turned out to be where President Tyler had designated in 1859 to be the location of his grave. When Tyler died three years later, in 1862, the Union Army’s troops occupied Sherwood Forest. Their presence forced Julia to have her husband buried in Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. It’s no secret that I love to stand on Presidential grave sites; but at Sherwood Forest, that grave site was missing the President. Our final stop at John Tyler’s plantation was the pet cemetery where dozens of family pets had been buried over the years; including the President’s favorite horse named ‘The General’.

I would’ve given my right arm for the opportunity to meet Harrison Tyler – the grandson of President John Tyler. But since my cheap photographer refused to pay the $35 to tour the interior of Sherwood Forest, my big chance went by the wayside. Back at the Acadia, the camera case (with me in it) was placed behind the driver’s seat for our 45-minute ride to Yorktown, Virginia. At one point, we made the decision to not visit Williamsburg; primarily because of our desire to see George Washington’s tent that he used in the Revolutionary War. The museum where the tent was housed closed at 5:00pm and my photographer wanted to capture some images of me near the historic tent. Colonial Williamsburg would have to wait for another trip.

We arrived at the Yorktown Visitor Center at about 1:30pm. Once my photographer bought the annual NPS pass, we headed directly for the historic tent, which, by the way, was the only artifact in the museum that sparked our interest. George Washington’s tent was on display behind a wall of glass, which made it a challenge for my camera guy to capture good images of me with the priceless piece of canvas. The three of us searched for additional artifacts that were associated with the Presidents, but when we came up empty, we left the building and headed on foot towards the Yorktown Victory Monument.

Although it was amazing for me to stand fairly close to George Washington’s tent that he used during the Revolutionary War, I had wondered if it had an odor like most tents do. The one thought that popped into my mind was: “Edna – this is your tent!”
I understood why the NPS wanted to protect Washington’s tent in a temperature controlled, glass-encased room; but it made it hard for me to pose near the historic relic.

The half-mile paved trail that began near the Visitor Center took the three of us to the Yorktown Victory Monument. When the cornerstone of the 84-foot-tall granite monument was set in place on October 18, 1881, President Chester Arthur was on-hand for the ceremony. I posed for a handful of images near the monument; even though the actual surrender did not take place there. The Yorktown Victory Monument was mostly a ceremonial piece that commemorated Cornwallis’ surrender to the French and American alliance that was led by General George Washington.

I had to stand a short distance from the 84-foot tall Victory Monument so that the entire granite sculpture would fit in my photographer’s frame.
I felt very short when I stood on the Yorktown Victory Monument.
Lady Liberty towered over the Yorktown Victory Monument. The point rising from her head was a lightning rod. The original ‘Liberty’ statue was destroyed by lightning in 1942 and it was replaced by ‘Victory’ in 1957.

I was carried west along Main Street, some of which had been closed to traffic, until we came upon a three-story brick house that featured a cannon ball embedded into an exterior wall. The magnificent structure not only looked historic, but it also once belonged to Yorktown’s most famous resident – Thomas Nelson, Jr. The house was built by Nelson’s grandfather, Thomas “Scotch Tom” Nelson, around 1730. During the Siege of Yorktown in 1781, the home was damaged; likely from cannon fire ordered by Thomas Nelson, Jr. onto his own home as British troops occupied the property. Five years earlier, Nelson was in Philadelphia as he supported and signed the Declaration of Independence. For a moment, Tom and Bob thought about going into the Nelson house because admission was free; but unfortunately for us, the interior was closed at that time.

Tom and Bob had visited the Thomas Nelson, Jr. house during their 1991 Declaration of Independence tour. On the day I was there, the interior was closed.
For the second time on that day I saw a cannon ball stuck in the wall of a Signer’s home. Unlike the one at Berkeley, however, this cannon ball was fired by the orders of the Signer himself.
The home of American patriot Thomas Nelson, Jr. He was Virginia’s fourth Governor; a member of the House of Burgesses; and an influential member of the Continental Congress who signed the Declaration of Independence. And if that wasn’t enough, he helped defend Yorktown during the 1781 siege by the British.

Our journey along Main Street ended when we turned right onto Church Street; a block later we found a – you guessed it: a church. The Grace Episcopal Church was built in 1697 and was surrounded on three sides by a burial ground. Grace Episcopal was not only the place of worship for Thomas Nelson, Jr.; it was also the site of his final resting place. I was carried into the church cemetery and within a few minutes I found myself standing on the grave of the Signer of the Declaration of Independence. But Nelson was more than just a guy who slapped his signature on a piece of parchment. He was the fourth Governor of Virginia; he was also a member of the House of Burgesses; and he served twice as a member of the Continental Congress representing Virginia. Thomas Nelson, Jr. died on January 4, 1789 at the age of 50 – he passed away a few months before George Washington took the Oath of Office as the first President of the United States. As I stood on his flat, rectangular granite tombstone, all I could think about was the dedication that Nelson gave to the formation of our nation.

Built in 1697, the Grace Episcopal Church in Yorktown, Virginia was where Thomas Nelson, Jr. had worshipped.
The grave of William Nelson (left), Colonial Governor of Virginia, was next to the final resting place of his son – Thomas Nelson, Jr.
It was an honor for me to stand on the tomb and salute Thomas Nelson, Jr. – Signer of the Declaration of Independence.

After the three of us paid our respects at the grave of Thomas Nelson, Jr, we made the long hike back to the Visitor Center where the vehicle was parked. I could tell that my photographer was uncomfortable as we retraced our footsteps to the car. Not only were Tom’s feet sore; the extreme heat of the day had begun to take its toll on the chunky camera guy. While the next Yorktown site was one that my photographer did not have on his agenda; it turned out to be a diamond in the rough after we discovered it in the NPS brochure. The two-story house, known today as the Moore House, was built around 1725. When British General Cornwallis requested a cease fire during the Siege of Yorktown, he selected the home of Augustine Moore as the site for surrender negotiations. After Tom captured a few exterior images, Tom carried me into the historic home where I saw the room that was used for those surrender talks. While most of the furnishings inside the building were from the period, there was a single chair that was present in the room during the peace negotiations that took place on October 18, 1781. I wanted to stand on that chair, but there was a person in charge whose job was to monitor visitors, and he never let me out of his sight.

Built around 1725, this house was owned by Augustine Moore during the American Revolution. On October 18, 1781, representatives for Generals Washington and Cornwallis met inside the house as they negotiated the terms of surrender.
After revisions to the rough draft were made by Washington, the revised Articles of Capitulation were signed in this house on October 19, 1781; officially ending the Revolutionary War.
It was an honor for me to visit the room where the Articles of Capitulation were drawn-up and then signed. As I stood inside the historic room, it was as though I could see the officers as they negotiated the surrender papers.
The only authentic piece of furniture that was in the room during the surrender on October 19, 1781 was this lonely wooden chair. It was too bad that Tom wasn’t able to set me on that chair for a photo.

Finished at the Moore House, we spent the final hour of our Yorktown visit driving around the Siege of Yorktown battlefield.  First, we saw a site known as the ‘Surrender Field’; then we drove to a second location that was used as General Washington’s headquarters. The ‘Surrender Field’ was a large clearing where soldiers from the American and French forces lined-up in formation while the defeated British soldiers marched between the two.  During that time, Cornwallis’ sword was presented to Major General Benjamin Lincoln; second in command under Washington.  A mile or two from the ‘Surrender Field’ was a location reputed to be the site of General Washington’s headquarters.  When I was set onto the ground in the approximate location where Washington’s tent once stood, a sense of pride filled my resin body. Even though the tall weeds, wild grasses, and clover made it difficult for me to look around, I was still able to envision Washington as he reviewed, revised and approved the conditions of surrender that would be presented to General Cornwallis the following day.

The ‘Surrender Field’ where General Cornwallis’ sword was handed over to Major General Benjamin Lincoln.
I thought the replica fencing along the ‘Surrender Field’ looked cool; especially when I thought about what had occurred there in October 1781.
During the Siege of Yorktown, General George Washington’s headquarters was located on this knoll on the battlefield.
On the night of October 18, 1781, General George Washington was at his headquarters on or near this spot as he read the rough draft of the Articles of Capitulation. After he made minor revisions to the Articles, Washington sent them back to be signed the next day.

Our visit to historic Yorktown had lasted nearly three hours; and to be honest, we could’ve spent the entire day there.  But the clock was ticking, and it was important to my photographer and Mongo that we get as close as possible to Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina before nightfall.  Not only did my companions expect to visit the Wright Brothers National Memorial when it opened in the morning, they also wanted to visit the historic site under the light of the moon as well.

The 120-mile drive south went well for the three of us and by 6:45pm we were checked-in at the Travelodge in Kill Devil Hills.  I had to give Moldenhauer all the credit for finding the perfect motel – it was located roughly 300 yards from the entrance to the Wright Brothers National Memorial.  I was looking forward to our after-hours hike into the Wright Brothers site; but first Tom and Bob did their best to put shrimp on the endangered species list at the Nag’s Head Pier restaurant that was located on the ocean about four miles south of the Travelodge. It was during our drive back to the motel, however, when I found out the bad news: I wasn’t going on the night-time hike to see the Wright Brothers monument.  Instead, my photographer had purchased a bottle of Gorilla Glue and a roll of gauze tape from a nearby CVS drug store and Tom planned to surgically repair my left leg before he and Mongo went on their moonlight jaunt.  I understood the urgency to fix my leg; Tom wanted me to look my best for our tour of the White House on Wednesday morning.

Surgery lasted roughly 15 minutes; my photographer placed me on his pillow where I remained motionless until my two companions returned from their ‘covert mission’ to the Wright Brothers monument.  When I was placed on the dresser next to the television, I listened as Tom and Bob rehashed their 90-minute expedition.  It appeared everything went as expected for the pair; although an unidentified car that was parked near their pathway to the memorial was an initial concern.  While my companions didn’t want to be arrested for trespassing after dark, they also figured they could talk their way out of any potential problems with security should they arise.  As they described their journey, I had wished Tom would’ve carried me in his camera case; the monument sounded as though it looked amazing lit up against the night sky.

The 60-foot tall granite monument that was atop Kill Devil Hill was dedicated in 1932 with Orville Wright in attendance.
My photographer described the tranquil peacefulness of their night visit to the monument. The etched lettering along the base read: “In commemoration of the conquest of the air by the brothers Wilbur and Orville Wright conceived by genius achieved by dauntless resolution and unconquerable faith.”
The bust of Wilbur Wright was located near the base of the monument. The bust of his brother, Orville, was situated on the adjacent side of the monument.
This photo was taken near the exact spot where Orville Wright stood during the dedication ceremony on November 14, 1932. The moon can be seen in-between a break in the clouds high above the monument. Just 66 years after the Wright Brothers flew the first airplane, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin stepped onto the surface of the moon.

When the lights in the room were extinguished at about 11:30pm, I felt like a new bobble head.  My leg once again felt solid and sturdy; I was ready to take on the world.  Throughout the night I thought about Orville and Wilbur as they took to the air for the first time in 1903; and we were less than a mile from where it all took place.  My seat was in the upright position and my seatbelt was fastened; it was almost time for our non-stop flight into history.  Now that’s what I call the Wright Stuff!

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Post navigation

Thomas Watson

My name is Thomas Watson and I've been a U.S. history fanatic since I was 9 years old. In 2013, I decided to take my passion to the next level when I purchased a Thomas Jefferson bobble head with the sole intention of photographing that bobble head at Presidential sites. From that first day on July 10, 2013 at Spiegel Grove in Fremont, Ohio, this journey has taken on a life of its own. Now, nearly 40,000 miles later, I thought it was time to share the experiences, stories, and photos of Jefferson's travels. Keep in mind, this entire venture has been done with the deepest respect for the men who held the office as our President; no matter what their political affiliations, personal ambitions, or public scandals may have been. This blog is intended to be a true tribute to the Presidents of the United States and this story will be told Through the Eyes of Jefferson. I hope you enjoy the ride!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *