Friday, October 30, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Tippecanoe Battlefield
On our way back from an exhausting but incredibly trip to Chicago, we stopped at Tippecanoe Battlefield, just outside Lafayette, Indiana. It's probably equally famous for its being the home of Purdue.
We've visited several battlefields, including Gettysburg, Stones River and Perryville, all Civil War sites. We also visited Tu-Endie-Wei, a pre-Revolutionary War conflict site. This was our first foray into the period called Tecumseh's War, when a federation of tribes was battling for their lands against colonialists and was threatening a British alliance.
I'll leave the history to the experts, but it was interesting to learn how such a small, wedge-shaped piece of land lodged between a creek and a swamp was so important. Today, a large obelisk stands near the entrance in honor of those who lost their lives in battle.
We've visited several battlefields, including Gettysburg, Stones River and Perryville, all Civil War sites. We also visited Tu-Endie-Wei, a pre-Revolutionary War conflict site. This was our first foray into the period called Tecumseh's War, when a federation of tribes was battling for their lands against colonialists and was threatening a British alliance.
I'll leave the history to the experts, but it was interesting to learn how such a small, wedge-shaped piece of land lodged between a creek and a swamp was so important. Today, a large obelisk stands near the entrance in honor of those who lost their lives in battle.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Winged Sun
My husband and I were out for a Sunday drive when we came across a cemetery we'd never seen before...and trust me, we've been all over our county. We found some great symbols on stones, including the winged sun; I don't think I had seen that symbol in real life...just online.
The winged sun is used often by Pennsylvania Dutch, according to this site.
It represents resurrection, Jesus or heaven. The site I referenced says the sun often appears as a circle with a dot in the middle because that was the symbol for the sun in old almanacs. I think I can make out a dot on this one, though it is covered in lichen and therefore difficult to tell for sure.
The stones in this cemetery were really ornate and beautiful. The names were old ones, including one so beautiful I'd consider using it if we ever have a girl: Aureolia Rosalie.
I also spotted a few stones that had what looked like a small inset frame. I wonder if they are supposed to be gates, a common symbol of entrance to heaven, but they were deep, almost like they were once used to place small items inside--maybe a photo or small vase?
Monday, August 31, 2009
It follows me.
I didn't know this would be my 100th post, but I'm still seething from something that happened yesterday and I feel the need to share it, so here I am eating lunch and recalling the angriest I think I've been in public. I apologize in advance for any offensive language, but I feel it's needed to tell the story. I do make political comments on social media sites from time to time, but I try to avoid shunning others because of their opinions...I want to state that this post isn't about my political opinions, but me as a human being.
I had just washed my car and headed across the street to a drugstore to grab a few items before heading home. I grabbed my purse and had taken just a few steps from my car when a white service van pulled past me. "You're a Communist!" One of the men in the car shouted at me. They were both old enough to be my father.
At first, I didn't put the elements of the situation together and thought I simply misheard them...after all, I was minding my own business. I kept walking. That's when they stopped, with the back of their van towards me, and the driver leaned out. "You're a f*cking Communist bitch! You are what's wrong with this country!" I realized at that point they must be talking to me, about my "Women for Obama" sticker.
"Oh, come on!" I shouted. I kept trying to walk away but the were getting louder and louder...and their insults were getting more and more personal and sexist. It was causing a scene. What made me snap was the "Stupid bitch" comment they made next. I usually try to keep my cool but long story short, I ended up in a shouting match that ended, stupidly, with me challenging them to get out of the van and say their piece instead of yelling and driving like cowards.
I fully understand that anything I put on my car can be seen in public and I knew eventually someone would make a comment. And they have before, but most comments have been said jokingly or at least respectfully. I guess I never bargained for the power of the symbolism of that simple sticker.
I feel that by displaying one's political affiliations in a public area, you are inviting comments. I do not, however, believe that something on my personal property should have created a situation that escalated to the point where I was perfectly willing to physically defend myself (somewhat stupidly...two men vs.me? Well, I was that angry). It seems really foolish, not only on my part for getting so fired up, but also for something so simple to evoke such an angry reaction from a stranger.
They drove off, and I went into the store. As I stood checking out, I found myself craning my neck to make sure my car wasn't being vandalized. At that point, the gravity of the situation hit. As I paid, I asked myself if it was worth having that sticker on my car and thought maybe I should take it off when I got home. But then I thought, you know what? It is worth it. Nothing I did invited such a violent reaction as came from those two men. If they were so upset over a sticker, something tells me a lot of other things would set them off, too. And I should be able to express my opinion in a respectful way and not be afraid.
What upsets me the most is the questions I can never ask them and the things I can never tell them about myself. I will likely never see them again. I'd love to know if they have daughters near my age, or if they have wives who would be ashamed at their behavior. I'd like to tell them that I hold a master's degree and have worked hard to overcome stereotypes given to women. I'd like to ask them if they know their history or if they've heard both sides of the healthcare issue. I'd like to know if they would have said those things to my face if they knew anything about me. I'd like to know if they would have said the same things to my husband or my father.
I guess I'd had it. I like to consider myself a pacifist, but something truly snapped in me that transformed me from someone who had just been listening to the radio and cleaning old parking receipts out of my car to someone standing in the Walgreens parking lot challenging two men to a fight.
In the past few years, I've been subject to a few situations like this. One was in broad daylight, around 2 p.m. in a Target parking lot. A man exposed himself to me while yelling disgusting comments. I calmly blew my car horn to attract attention, then called police. Another was at a hockey game where they were handing out Obama bobbleheads...the man who handed it to me called me an idiot and told me all my money would be gone if I voted for him. I moved along. I guess this Sunday was just one random jerk too many for me to handle. I'm so sick of being in innocuous places and coming across these situations.
I have to wonder, what signals am I giving off? I definitely don't want to blame the victim, especially when it comes to myself, but with the odd things that have happened to me in recent years, I have to wonder what it is about me. And what should my reaction be? I'm still not sure.
I had just washed my car and headed across the street to a drugstore to grab a few items before heading home. I grabbed my purse and had taken just a few steps from my car when a white service van pulled past me. "You're a Communist!" One of the men in the car shouted at me. They were both old enough to be my father.
At first, I didn't put the elements of the situation together and thought I simply misheard them...after all, I was minding my own business. I kept walking. That's when they stopped, with the back of their van towards me, and the driver leaned out. "You're a f*cking Communist bitch! You are what's wrong with this country!" I realized at that point they must be talking to me, about my "Women for Obama" sticker.
"Oh, come on!" I shouted. I kept trying to walk away but the were getting louder and louder...and their insults were getting more and more personal and sexist. It was causing a scene. What made me snap was the "Stupid bitch" comment they made next. I usually try to keep my cool but long story short, I ended up in a shouting match that ended, stupidly, with me challenging them to get out of the van and say their piece instead of yelling and driving like cowards.
I fully understand that anything I put on my car can be seen in public and I knew eventually someone would make a comment. And they have before, but most comments have been said jokingly or at least respectfully. I guess I never bargained for the power of the symbolism of that simple sticker.
I feel that by displaying one's political affiliations in a public area, you are inviting comments. I do not, however, believe that something on my personal property should have created a situation that escalated to the point where I was perfectly willing to physically defend myself (somewhat stupidly...two men vs.me? Well, I was that angry). It seems really foolish, not only on my part for getting so fired up, but also for something so simple to evoke such an angry reaction from a stranger.
They drove off, and I went into the store. As I stood checking out, I found myself craning my neck to make sure my car wasn't being vandalized. At that point, the gravity of the situation hit. As I paid, I asked myself if it was worth having that sticker on my car and thought maybe I should take it off when I got home. But then I thought, you know what? It is worth it. Nothing I did invited such a violent reaction as came from those two men. If they were so upset over a sticker, something tells me a lot of other things would set them off, too. And I should be able to express my opinion in a respectful way and not be afraid.
What upsets me the most is the questions I can never ask them and the things I can never tell them about myself. I will likely never see them again. I'd love to know if they have daughters near my age, or if they have wives who would be ashamed at their behavior. I'd like to tell them that I hold a master's degree and have worked hard to overcome stereotypes given to women. I'd like to ask them if they know their history or if they've heard both sides of the healthcare issue. I'd like to know if they would have said those things to my face if they knew anything about me. I'd like to know if they would have said the same things to my husband or my father.
I guess I'd had it. I like to consider myself a pacifist, but something truly snapped in me that transformed me from someone who had just been listening to the radio and cleaning old parking receipts out of my car to someone standing in the Walgreens parking lot challenging two men to a fight.
In the past few years, I've been subject to a few situations like this. One was in broad daylight, around 2 p.m. in a Target parking lot. A man exposed himself to me while yelling disgusting comments. I calmly blew my car horn to attract attention, then called police. Another was at a hockey game where they were handing out Obama bobbleheads...the man who handed it to me called me an idiot and told me all my money would be gone if I voted for him. I moved along. I guess this Sunday was just one random jerk too many for me to handle. I'm so sick of being in innocuous places and coming across these situations.
I have to wonder, what signals am I giving off? I definitely don't want to blame the victim, especially when it comes to myself, but with the odd things that have happened to me in recent years, I have to wonder what it is about me. And what should my reaction be? I'm still not sure.
Friday, July 24, 2009
For my readers
From time to time, I've mentioned visiting place for my book. I'd been working on it for months and months and on July 15th, it was sent to the publisher.
The book, tentatively titled "Tiny Journeys: Day Trips from the Queen City," covers attractions, grouped by area, which can be visited in a day or weekend. Most are less than two hours and nothing in the book costs over $25. Most attractions are free or donation only.
I am currently working with my editor to add some maps to make it even easier to go on a "Tiny Journey." Looks like it will hit the web and brick-and-mortar stores for sales late this year or early '10. I will be doing a few signings, with one already lined up with my alma mater, Shawnee State University, when the book is released.
You should be able to find it at many of the attractions mentioned in the book, which I later plan to list here. Some are offering to sell it in their gift shops, which is very exciting!
For now, stay tuned with twitter (@CincyDayTrips) or on Facebook (facebook.com/tinyjourneys or click on the box to the right).
Thanks for reading, and I hope you make the leap from my blog to my book!
-Jenny
The book, tentatively titled "Tiny Journeys: Day Trips from the Queen City," covers attractions, grouped by area, which can be visited in a day or weekend. Most are less than two hours and nothing in the book costs over $25. Most attractions are free or donation only.
I am currently working with my editor to add some maps to make it even easier to go on a "Tiny Journey." Looks like it will hit the web and brick-and-mortar stores for sales late this year or early '10. I will be doing a few signings, with one already lined up with my alma mater, Shawnee State University, when the book is released.
You should be able to find it at many of the attractions mentioned in the book, which I later plan to list here. Some are offering to sell it in their gift shops, which is very exciting!
For now, stay tuned with twitter (@CincyDayTrips) or on Facebook (facebook.com/tinyjourneys or click on the box to the right).
Thanks for reading, and I hope you make the leap from my blog to my book!
-Jenny
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Portsmouth Flood Wall Murals
I attended Shawnee State University from 2001-2005. One of my favorite things to do was walk the floodwall--first along the top of the grassy section and then down to the murals.
Portsmouth is famous for the flood wall murals, which depict area history and important events. The murals are so lifelike, with some good photography skills you could easily state a photo that looks like you're part of the paintings.
The murals were designed by artist Robert Dafford. They were commissioned after a group of citizens thought the flood wall could be more than just slabs of cement. They were right. I love how the murals depict what the flood wall is protecting. On the opposite side, you'll find a wall of painted stars that have been signed by notable figures from the area.
In the photo above, you can see the artist has painted himself into several scenes. I think it's a great way to "sign" this beautiful work of art.
If you're ever in Portsmouth, make sure this is one of your stops. Though several other river cities have similar murals (Point Pleasant, WV has some, for example) this will always be my favorite.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Mothman Country
Point Pleasant is a place I've been waiting to go, not only to cover for my book, but as a sort of pilgrimage for a girl who loves a good cryptoid story.
We arrived in Point Pleasant around 11 a.m. on a Saturday. Feeling a little sheepish, we got out of the car near the Silver Bridge collapse site memorial to take photos. We felt the eyes of the locals on us as I lined up my shot. Boy, I thought. They must really get sick of gawkers.
But my initial impression was wrong. Not only were there tons of other people posing by various sites and buying armfuls of memorbilia, the townspeople seemed to be eating it up. And why not? I'm sure it brings in a ton of money.
Our next stop was a souvenir shop, almost exactly across the street from the memorial, where we saw quite a few people congregating. Turns out, we weren't the only ones who were in town to see the sights.
Inside The Point (the name of the shop), we found every sort of trinket from shot glasses to plush Mothmen. As we waited to check out, we heard the owner giving the woman in front of us instructions on how to get to the TNT igloos which were used during WWII and later became the hotspot for Mothman sightings. We were intrigued, as we had heard they were not accessible or open to the public. My husband asked the owner if he had another map, and the nice man proceeded to not only give us the map, but also give us detailed instructions for finding the igloos, draw a diagram, tell us stories that involved ancient Shawnee burial grounds and show us photos take by other visitors. Needless to say, I was intrigued.
Past feeling silly for being tourists, as we had seen many others in town for the same reasons, we found the Mothman statue near The Point and took some photos. My husband asked if I wanted to go to the TNT area, to which I replied "Hell yeah I do!"
Now, I must explain that I am a skeptic but enjoy these types of things for their folkloric value. That being said, our visit to the TNT bunkers made me uneasy to the point where I no longer wanted to linger despite being interested in poking around as we drove to the abandoned, desolate part of the nature preserve where they are located.
We located the guardrail the man at the store had described. It seemed like we walked forever between a thick, overgrown forest on our right and a foul, stagnant pond to our left. I had gone a few feet too far when my husband called out from behind me, "Hey, I think this is it!"
It was. Through a short, thick tunnel of vines and mud, we found the entrance to the first igloo. It was more bizarre than I expected. And bigger. Much bigger.
The odd thing was, we walked in cautiously, as not to disturb the people inside because, well, we both felt like there were going to be people inside. There weren't.
The man at the store explained that energy travels from one igloo to another and that we should take photos inside. Keeping an open mind, we did that. We saw nothing, but it was still unsettling. The detailed Mothman grafitti and empty black powder cans alluded to the area's past. Everything echoed all around us, from a deep exhale to our footsteps in the dark.
We traveled to the next one, this time down a longer, darker tunnel of foilage. We passed the owners of the cars we saw in the pulloff where we parked, which made us feel a little better. Then we went in. This one made me most uneasy. It seemed to sit back slightly more and it was more overgrown. I felt like if I was going to see anything that day, this was going to be where. I didn't see a thing, but the uneasiness grew.
We found the third one but didn't linger. It was hot, we were alone in the middle of nowhere and it was getting weirder by the minute.
On our way back, green snake passed beneath my foot, between it and my flip-flop. Having little fear of snakes, I simply shook it out, but my husband yelped in surprise and we had a good laugh. It was when the commotion was over that I started to feel really odd. "Do you feel weird?" I asked him. "Someone is back here watching people," he said. Well, those were my thoughts exactly and we decided to hightail it.
We passed the two other igloos quickly, not stopping to take another peek. The pond was making an odd crackling noise, sometimes sounding like knocks on a door. We felt like there were eyes on us.
We're both logical, rational people and we know very well that there could be cameras around there or even people hiding to play a trick. No matter what gave us that sensation, though, it was enough to give us pause and to make us drive away quickly.
I plan to scan the map soon and share it; it's not a good place for small kids and you should be careful of various hazards. I'm glad we visited but maybe next time it will be in a larger group--safety in numbers.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Cave Hill Cemetery
Last weekend, we traveled down to Louisville to attend a friend's wedding--a beautiful rooftop ceremony at Glassworks.
The next day we decided to see a few things before heading back to Cincinnati. We visited Falls of the Ohio State Park, the Edison House and Cave Hill Cemetery.
Cave Hill is home to some notable burials, including Harlan Sanders. We managed to miss his grave because we couldn't find a brochure about the cemetery (they were all gone). I didn't figure this out until I got home!
We did, however, have a nice hour driving around in the alternating rain and blinding sun looking at the different monuments. One that caught my eye was this sphinx stone, which symbolizes protection and guardianship.
If you're ever in Louisville, this is a nice stop. It was very peaceful and had it not been so hot and damp, we would have walked around.
The next day we decided to see a few things before heading back to Cincinnati. We visited Falls of the Ohio State Park, the Edison House and Cave Hill Cemetery.
Cave Hill is home to some notable burials, including Harlan Sanders. We managed to miss his grave because we couldn't find a brochure about the cemetery (they were all gone). I didn't figure this out until I got home!
We did, however, have a nice hour driving around in the alternating rain and blinding sun looking at the different monuments. One that caught my eye was this sphinx stone, which symbolizes protection and guardianship.
If you're ever in Louisville, this is a nice stop. It was very peaceful and had it not been so hot and damp, we would have walked around.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
