It was Friday July 11, 2014 and I was in Springfield, Illinois; just a few miles from where Abraham Lincoln had lived for 16 years before becoming President. My head was shaking with excitement as we left the motel and headed for the corner of 8th and Jackson Streets. The weather was perfect – no clouds, no humidity, and the temperature was about 80 degrees. I had nothing to complain about; although I hadn’t come across any tourists yet.
At 8:30am, I was taken from the camera case and quickly realized I was on a gravel street in front of Abraham Lincoln’s home. It’s hard to describe in words the feeling I had when I first laid eyes on Lincoln’s two-story house; it was almost as though I could see the tall, slender legendary man himself as he walked up onto the porch and waved to the onlookers who had come to see him. Abraham Lincoln was there. Our 16th President was at his home – I could feel his presence.
Mary Todd and Abraham Lincoln bought their house in 1844 for $1,200 and some land. When they made the purchase, it was a single-story home. Due to their growing family, the Lincoln’s added a second-story to their home in 1856. Three of Lincoln’s four sons were born in the house; one son, Eddie, died there.
Following Abe’s election in 1860, the Lincoln’s sold most of their furniture and moved to Washington; they rented out their home during their time in the White House. Abraham Lincoln never returned to his beloved home.
While posing for photos in front of the house, we had heard that most of the furnishings inside the house were period pieces – which was why my photographer chose to not tour the interior. I second-guessed his decision at the time because it was the only home that Abraham Lincoln ever owned and I didn’t step foot inside. At that moment, I vowed to return to Springfield at some point in time and go inside that house.
We spent over an hour walking around the historic structure and its grounds; all the while I wondered if I was where Lincoln once stood. I knew that Lincoln had been photographed in 1860 as he sat in front of the house with his sons; but did he also play with the boys in the backyard? Did he ever gaze out of the parlor window, the window that I stood next to? Did he walk down 8th Street to visit a neighbor or take an evening stroll with Mary? During my travels over the past year, I had been to several Presidential homes; each were interesting in their own historical way. But the house that stood before me on that warm July morning; the neatly restored home along the gravel-topped street in Springfield; that house was special. After all, that wasn’t just any house; it was the home of Abraham Lincoln – one of the greatest men to ever set foot on this planet.
From the President’s homestead, it was about a five-block walk to the building where Abraham Lincoln practiced law in Springfield – The Lincoln-Herndon Law Offices. The three-and-one-half story brick building was built in 1841; and by 1843 Lincoln and his law partner Stephen Logan moved their practice to a third-floor office in that building. By the following year, the Logan-Lincoln partnership dissolved and in 1844 William Herndon joined legal forces with young Abraham. That dynamic duo practiced law together in that historic building until 1852.
The Old State Capitol was located roughly 200 yards from Lincoln’s law office and that building had played a significant role in the history and legacy of our 16th President. Inside the historic Capitol, Lincoln’s fame and reputation grew. Not only did he represent his clients in over 400 trials in the state’s Supreme Court Chamber, he also accepted the nomination for the U.S. Senate in the Representatives Chamber. Another historic event occurred in that chamber: Lincoln delivered one of his most iconic speeches – his “House Divided Speech”.
My first order of business was to be photographed outside of the Old State Capitol building. The different hues of limestone made the exterior walls picturesque; while the white and rust colored dome stood-out vividly against the pure blue sky.
When I had finished posing for photos with the Capitol’s exterior, I was carried up the dozen or so steps and into the bowels of the building. I was disappointed to learn that the Representatives Chamber was closed, which was where Lincoln not only gave his ‘House Divided Speech’ on June 16, 1858; it was also the room where his body had laid in state prior to his burial at Oak Ridge Cemetery in May of 1865. One room that was open to tour was the Supreme Court Chamber where Lincoln defended clients in over 400 trials – most of which the young lawyer had won.
It was nearly noon and time for us to head back towards the Avenger that was parked close to Lincoln’s home. My photographer had felt that riding to the other sites would be more beneficial than walking; mainly because of the time factor. We had reservations at a famous Bed and Breakfast in Woodstock, Illinois for the night and it was a 225-mile journey from where we were.
The next Presidential site on our agenda was located a short distance from Lincoln’s home; it was a site where he delivered his last speech in Springfield. The Great Western Railroad Station, which was also known as the “Lincoln Depot”, was a two-story brick and mortar building that was the site of Abraham Lincoln’s farewell address to his fellow citizens of Springfield as he departed for Washington to become the nation’s 16th President.
Lincoln had arrived at the depot on the dark and dreary morning of February 11, 1861; a day before his 52nd birthday. Over 1,000 friends and well-wishers had arrived at the site to send the President-elect onto his journey to the White House. He was so moved by the outpouring of affection, he delivered an impromptu speech from the rear platform of the train. In part, Lincoln said, “My friends, no one, not in my situation, can appreciate my feeling of sadness at this parting. To this place, and the kindness of these people, I owe everything. Here I have lived a quarter of a century and have passed from a young to an old man. 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.” That turned out to be the last speech Abraham Lincoln ever delivered in Springfield.
My photographer placed me on the railroad tracks that were situated alongside the historic depot. While standing there, I could envision Lincoln as he spoke his heartfelt words from the back of the train. He had no way of knowing; no way of predicting what the future had in store for him. Sadly, he was somewhat prophetic when he stated that he didn’t know when or if he would ever return to Springfield. Four years and three months later, he in fact did return – in a casket.
The doors to the depot were locked shut; but we weren’t sure if there was anything of interest inside anyway. I did know that Lincoln had used a small interior office as a reception room while he waited for the train. In that office, he shook hands with friends and supporters until 8:00am; which was when the train pulled into the station.
Onward to another site; which was a second railroad station that was located seven or eight blocks west of the ‘Lincoln Depot’ and only three blocks away from the Old State Capitol. When we arrived at the site, I saw a fairly large brick depot that was a working Amtrak station. As we walked along the front of the building, I discovered a shiny, black marble monument that was dedicated at the site in 2010.
I stood on the marble block, with my back facing the sculpted book, and looked toward the nearby tracks. I thought about how sad that day must’ve been 149 years earlier when Lincoln’s casket had arrived following a 13-day train ride from Washington. It was likely that the silence would’ve only been broken by the faint weeping of some of the on-lookers; some of whom may have been in attendance at the Great Western Railroad depot four years earlier when Lincoln left Springfield for the final time.
There was time for one last stop in Springfield and we truly saved the best for last. From the Amtrak Station, Vicki drove the nearly two-mile route to Oak Ridge Cemetery where the tomb of Abraham Lincoln was located. While I had resin goosebumps from thinking about going inside the tomb of Lincoln, I was also excited about seeing the other two burial sites of our 16th President that were in Oak Ridge as well.
Once the Avenger was parked, I was carried along a concrete pathway that led to the front of Abraham Lincoln’s tomb. There it was, in all of its glory, right in front of me; and the grandeur of the monument did not disappoint whatsoever.
Not too far from the entryway of the tomb, I saw a pedestal that supported a large bronze bust of Lincoln’s head. Although the bust was dark in color, Lincoln’s nose was a shiny copper color – discolored from people rubbing it for good luck. When I was placed onto the bust, I found it was very slippery and hard to stand on. I wanted to rub the nose for luck, but I feared that I would slip and be smashed to pieces on the cement below.
Two large, bronze doors guarded the tomb’s entrance. Once I was carried through those doors and into the tomb, I was surprised that it seemed brighter than what it was inside Garfield’s crypt; although both were somewhat creepy. We slowly made our way around the semi-circular passageway until we came to Lincoln’s burial chamber.
The black and white marble chamber was circular with a seven-ton block of reddish marble in the center. That marble cenotaph marked the approximate location of Lincoln’s burial site; which was 30 inches behind the marker and ten feet below it. Nine flags were arranged in a semi-circle around the cenotaph; seven represented the states of Lincoln and his ancestors while the other two were the United States flag and the Presidential flag. Inscribed into the wall behind and above Lincoln’s grave marker were the words spoken by Secretary of War Edwin Stanton at the moment of the President’s death on April 15, 1865: “Now he belongs to the ages.”
As I was held in my photographer’s left hand inside Lincoln’s burial chamber, we were all alone. It was just my photographer, his wife, and me standing roughly 20-feet from the large marble headstone. At that moment, I knew it was time; it was do-or-die time for me to stand on Lincoln’s monument. But that’s also the moment that Vicki had discovered our scheme and she said out loud to my photographer: “You are not going to put that bobble head on top of that marker. There is a barricade in place and you can’t go past that. If you do, you will get arrested. I’m not going to stay here and watch you get arrested; I don’t want any part of this”. Vicki left us and walked around to the opposite side of the burial chamber that was near the tomb’s entrance.
Just as my photographer was about to go under the barricade with me in hand, we heard footsteps of someone entering the crypt. We stopped dead in our tracks and my heart was beating right out of my resin-covered chest. It turned out to be a father and his young son who had entered the burial chamber. Since my photographer didn’t want to be a bad influence on the child, nor did we want the father to report us to the authorities, we waited for them to finish admiring Lincoln’s gravesite before we made another daring attempt at our plot.
Alone again, my photographer approached the barricade; which resembled a rope and stanchion system that one might see in a movie theater; and we made our move. He ducked under the rope, walked quickly up to the tall reddish marble monument and placed me on top directly in the center of the marker. Without a lot of time to reflect on where I was, I did manage to think of Abraham Lincoln’s body lying about ten feet below me buried under two tons of concrete. I couldn’t believe where I was standing; but I knew I was likely the only bobble head in history to ever stand where I was at that moment.
I stood on top of the monument for only about a minute; long enough for my image to be captured for posterity. My internal clock was ticking; I was nervous and excited at the same time. I wasn’t sure when the next tourist would walk around the corner; or maybe it would be the police arriving to arrest me. When my photographer came back and removed me from the headstone, I was relieved. There had been no alarms, bells, or whistles that sounded; and no armed guards to take me away in small handcuffs.
Vicki sat and waited for us near the entrance to the tomb. Upon our approach, she asked: “You didn’t go in there, did you?” After my photographer proudly smiled and defiantly held me up in front of her, she replied: “You are crazy. I was waiting for buzzers and whistles to go off and for someone to haul your (butt) to jail.”
But in my mind, we didn’t do anything wrong. Our goal was to pay tribute to one of the greatest Americans to walk this Earth and to bring history alive for all who hear our story. I stood on top of Lincoln’s monument with the greatest respect and deepest admiration for our 16th President and I would be the last bobble head on Earth to disrespect or desecrate a Presidential gravesite. I had to believe that somehow, somewhere, Abraham Lincoln was smiling.
With my goal completed at Abraham Lincoln’s tomb, it was time to venture to the other two burial sites of our 16th President that were in Oak Ridge Cemetery.
There was a concrete stairway that led from the Lincoln Tomb, down the hill, and to the Oak Ridge Public Receiving Vault that once contained the remains of the assassinated President and his son Willie from May 4, 1865 until December 21st of that year. The granite mausoleum was situated into the side of a hill that was north of the permanent tomb. Although two others had been entombed in that vault prior to Lincoln’s assassination; no one has been placed there since.
With our photos completed at the receiving vault, I was carried back up the hill via the concrete stairway. At about the half-way point of our climb, we found a small granite marker just off the pathway. The weathered and unmarked chunk of granite that stuck two-feet above the sod was where another temporary tomb of Lincoln and his family was once located. When the permanent Lincoln Tomb was near completion and ready for the slain President’s remains, the caskets of Lincoln and his two sons were removed from the temporary tomb and placed inside the memorial. At some point after September 1871, the interim tomb was demolished; with only the unmarked piece of granite left as a reminder.
Once we finished our trek up the hill and I was once again situated comfortably in my camera case on the backseat of our car, it suddenly dawned on me that my Presidential sites were finished for that trip; yet we had five days left of sightseeing before we were scheduled to return to Michigan.
But I couldn’t complain too much as I had the chance to visit some very historic Presidential sites; especially the ones that revolved around Abraham Lincoln. I saw Lincoln’s birthplace; I was at his home; and I stood on his grave. We covered the entire spectrum of the life of America’s greatest president – Abraham Lincoln. And now, he belongs to the ages.
