It’s been an adventure and I’ve really liked it.  I didn’t do anything in Boston.  Plymouth was gorgeous.  I walked around a bit and ate salmon from a harbor restaurant.  It was nice to just be there.  The ocean always amazes me.

My goal was to get to New York City to see the Statue of Liberty at sunrise.  I pulled off 495 on a side street in the Bronx to read the map and get ideas from Davo (good friend of mine in D.C.) on the phone.  When I went to leave, the truck wouldn’t start.  After a flurry of phone calls and trying to figure out my options, I got a hold of Al from All About Towing.  He came to my rescue, cleaning my battery cable and connections and giving me a jump start.  In the course of our time together I quickly loved him, sixty-six years old, been married forty-seven years with kids and grandkids.  He beat cancer twice, but you wouldn’t know it – he was full of life, optimism, and genuine compassion.  He sat me down and helped me make sure I knew where I was going.  He strongly admonished me not to sleep in my truck and showed me areas to avoid.  I wanted to stay on the Jersey side to be right near the Statue of Liberty park, but he said that area was rough and told me to get a hotel off the highway.  He gave me a little calendar and indignantly refused the $20 I gave him as a token of appreciation, three times.  “That is not why I do what I do,” he said with his eastern accent.  He asked me to call him when I made it back to Kansas safely.  I feel I have made a friend in NYC!  He sternly warned me to “trust no one” and sent me on my way after leading me to my exit, and a fatherly check on the cheek with his knuckle and “take care, love.”

I found a stupidly expensive hotel to sleep in Queens, crashed at almost two in the morning, and awoke at 10:30, pretty rested after a dreamless sleep.

Showered and fresh, I made my way across the Queensboro Bridge and through Manhattan.  It was awesome.  Just like the movies:  wall to wall people and incredible buildings, bumper to bumper cars and lively and organized chaos! 

I fell in love with New York that morning.  No one stood out.  It didn’t matter what they wore or what they drove.  It was a sea of humanity and I loved it.  It was busy and chaotic, yet still had order.  There was an aliveness in the air.  I did not feel the apathy or the pride I felt in Chicago.  There was a real “go with the flow” feeling. 

It took me quite awhile to make it to the Lincoln tunnel. After crossing Queensboro Bridge, I was in Manhattan, chugging along to 34^th St. then to 9^th Ave.  After getting through the Lincoln Tunnel, I landed in Union City.  I took JFK Street to Jersey City, then made my way to Liberty State Park. 

After parking there, I walked along the paths along the harbor – drawing closer to Ellis Island.  I didn’t take a ferry; I stayed on land.  There were others out but it wasn’t really busy.  I enjoyed that stroll along the harbor’s edge.  The immigration offices on a separate island were huge.  I could just imagine the sea-weary immigrants standing in lines there, milling about in lobbies, anxious for permission to make one last short boat trip to the shore.  I was overwhelmed.

Then I just stood and watched the water lap against the rocks below me.  There she stood – a beacon of  all this country was started for.  I was in awe.  Not showy, or even majestic – just quietly grand, and, and…. Strong.  Yes, that was it!  Unwavering.  “Come in if you will” she seemed to say.  “Potential and liberty lay before you, come in.”  Oh, but there are only traces of that to be found now in our country.  My heart felt the burden of that realization – yet the hope it also felt was greater.  We still have our foundation!  Yes, the past few decades have built on these rickety additions to the side, and those additions cannot weather the storms coming – BUT as long as we keep the foundation, we have a chance!

Dear Lord, I thank you for this nation.  I beckon you to send the storms to rip off those poorly built slip-shod additions of secularism, selfishness, pride, and worldliness.  Let us return once more to the foundations of truth and righteousness and integrity we were established on. 

From there I spent an exhausting hour traveling one-two miles on the Jersey turnpike.  I didn’t care for New Jersey.  It felt dirty and harried, like it was trying to keep up with the Joneses.  I enjoyed my drive through Maryland, where I could once again find a Pepsi!

Ah but D.C.!  I didn’t have time to stop in Philadelphia.  That is a city I want to explore, so I reluctantly drove past.  As I approached D.C., I instantly felt good.  It was scenic driving in.  Landscape consisted of wooded areas and non-presumptuous buildings.  A feeling of anticipation grew within me.  I was famished, as I hadn’t eaten all day.  Davo treated me to incredible Italian at Maggianos at the exclusive Galleria.  A glass of wine hit the spot, as I felt myself begin to unwind.  Casual conversation was good.  Then we made our way to the national monuments.  David drove around them all first, then we parked.  By now it was chilly and pretty windy.  We cut across to the Washington Monument, encircled by American flags, whipping in the wind.  It was awe-inspiring all lit up.

We went to the World War II monument, and the lit fountains were breathtaking.  I found Kansas.  I loved this monument.  It exhumed reverential regard for this point in our history – for the sacrifices made.

We made our way past the reflecting pool, up the marble steps to the Lincoln Memorial.  It was larger than life.  Small signs were posted that read “Quiet Respect Please” but at that point, it was not necessary.  A hushed sense of awe washed over me as I passed the pillars.  I felt like weeping.  I stood in awe.  Then I thought, “If I have such a feeling before a statue of a dead man, how will I feel before the throne of the Living God?”

We walked through the Vietnam Memorial on our way back to the car.  I already look forward to the day I see it ALL in daylight.

I arose early the next morning and made my way out of town.  I took the route 66 West to 81 South, then got on 64 West which cut through the Appalachian Mountains.  It was my favorite two hour drive.  The roads quietly rolled in curves and mountainside, as though a silent permission was granted for it to even be there.  It was not at all like the Rockies.  It did not have the rugged majesty of the Rockies, or the taunting to “try me if you dare”.  It was different.  Instead there was a quiet beauty that cared not whether or not you noticed.  It was satisfied with its being.  The homes and towns made themselves unobtrusive, blending in with the beauty around them.  They were quite different than a lot of the towns I saw in the Rockies that seemed to be competing with the mountains for notice.  No, in a lot of ways I liked this better.  Streams and large rivers rolled along, an occasional small waterfall ran down a side, and the splendor of creation, simply stood – uncaring whether you noticed or not – completely content and at peace to be the created, created for the pleasure of the Creator.  I was mesmerized.  I fell in love with West Virginia then.  I wanted to go back and hike the Allegheny Trail.

And then I made the curve – the curve that filled my being with excitement!  Almost unaware I had come upon Charleston.  A majestic river ran through and mighty bridges graced it.  I felt traces of mining in the air.  Then I hit downtown and it took my breath away.  Incredible architectural structures took their places as though an agreement between them and the mountainside had been reached:  “You may have this space.”  My heart yearned to stop and I made mental note that I would return to explore.

Nothing in West Virginia – the West Virginia I saw – disappointed me.  I was in love.

Kentucky was pleasing and pleasant to drive through.  The rolling hills and running horses were delightful to the eyes.

I made it to St. Louis by 8:30.  The Arch and great Mississippi never get old.  I toyed with stopping but had been on the road for thirteen hours.  Besides, it was the Cardinals home opener, and downtown would be a zoo.  I went on to St. Charles and got a room.  Then walked the boardwalk in their historic district, which I love – and finally crashed for the night.  I was up before six (thanks God!) and back home before eleven – grateful to be home.  After a shower, I gave Al a call to tell him of my safe arrival.  Then Casa (my favorite Mexican restaurant) beckoned me and I answered.