Part IV: Peak and Valley

STRAW_CoverWoody’s highly anticipated new book “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” is NOW available! Order your signed copy HERE!

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Peak and Valley at Mount Vernon

This is the final in a four-column series chronicling my recent father-son road trip to the homes of two Founding Fathers – and more.

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George Washington’s Mount Vernon estate is the most popular historic home in America with more than one million visitors annually. People make the pilgrimage to see the 21-room mansion, the spectacular panoramic view of the Potomac River and, of course, the tomb where the “Father of Our Country” rests eternally.

Paying respects at the white marble sarcophagus, adorned with a raised eagle and shield and the simple inscription “Washington,” was a far more emotional experience than I had anticipated. The moment filled my heart with esteem, my eyes with moisture.

Arched entryway to the Slave Memorial and Burial Ground at Mount Vernon.

Arched entryway to the Slave Memorial and Burial Ground at Mount Vernon.

Following a brief downhill walk into the nearby woods, a few of the pooled tears overflowed. My son and I were at the Slave Memorial and Burial Ground.

A red-brick archway, similar to one at Washington’s Tomb, serves as an entrance to a lovely tree-shaded clearing. At the end of a narrow pathway is a cylindrical stone marker bearing this inscription: “In memory of the Afro Americans who served as slaves at Mount Vernon this monument marking their burial ground dedicated September 21, 1983.”

The marker rises from a circular stone foundation, framed by manicured shrubs, and adorned with three words around its perimeter at the 2 o’clock, 6 o’clock and 10 o’clock positions: “Faith”, “Hope” and “Love.”

At the Mount Vernon Museum, faith, hope and love were joined by heartbreak, tribulation and injustice in the “Lives Bound Together” exhibit documenting slavery at the plantation.

In its own right, the exhibit is powerfully moving. I found it fivefold so because a young family consisting of a father, mother and three sons – the oldest being age 10 – were perusing alongside me and at the same pace. Moreover, the African-American parents took turns reading the information plaques aloud to their sons.

For example, the dad read this: “George Washington was born into a world where slavery was common. At age 11, he inherited 10 enslaved people from his father.”

He then explained to his eldest son: “That would be like you, on your birthday next month, inheriting 10 slaves.”

I am not certain about the son, but this statement hit me like a flush roundhouse.

“Most enslaved people never had the opportunity to become literate,” the mom now read, adding: “If they did manage to learn, they could be punished for it. Can you imagine being whipped for learning to read?”

1sslavegravevernonAnd so it continued for an hour, a history lesson becoming more painfully real because slavery could very possibly be in this beautiful family’s roots. I felt a rising anger and disappointment at Washington.

And yet, to his credit, Washington recognized marriages between his slaves, even though the law did not. He also did not separate enslaved families.

Too, importantly, in his will Washington freed upon his death the 123 slaves he owned. It can be argued this was too little, too late, but also know this: of the Founding Fathers who owned slaves, Washington is the only one to give emancipation.

In his eulogy for Washington on December 29, 1799, Richard Allen, founder of the African Methodist Episcopal Church, put this final deed into perspective: “Unbiased by the popular opinion of the state in which is the memorable Mount Vernon – he dared to do his duty, and wipe off the only stain with which man could ever reproach him.”

Earlier, sitting contemplatively at the Slave Memorial and feeling downhearted about our greatest Founding Father’s ugly “stain,” something beautiful happened. All afternoon, walking the grounds from hilltop to riverbank, I had seen one lone butterfly – at Washington’s Tomb. Now, I spotted a second, fluttering above the stone marker honoring the slaves.

Butterflies serve as the archetype of metamorphosis and a symbol of resurrection. So it seemed fitting to see these two butterflies – or was possibly it the same one? – as a metaphor, not only for how our country changed in regards to slavery, but also how George Washington did.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden&Me_cover_PRCheck out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”

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Part II: History Lesson at Monticello

STRAW_CoverWoody’s highly anticipated new book “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” is NOW available! Order your signed copy HERE!

 * * *

Little Mountain’ and Big Heartbreak

This is the second in a four-column series chronicling my recent father-son road trip to the homes of two Founding Fathers and more.

* * *

More than two centuries before the creation of Twitter, Thomas Jefferson distilled his life’s accomplishments into this tweet-length epitaph inscribed on his tombstone:

“Author of the Declaration of Independence, of the Statute of Virginia for Religious Freedom, and Father of the University of Virginia.”

In truth, 140 pages in an encyclopedia would be insufficient to chronicle Jefferson’ genius, much less 140 characters. Still, it is difficult to fathom leaving out mention of being the third president of the United States.1monticelloback

Perhaps a greater omission is this deed: “Designed Monticello.”

Jefferson called Monticello – meaning “little mountain” in old Italian – his “essay on architecture.” The neoclassical mansion was four decades in the making and remains such a masterpiece it is recognized as a World Heritage Site by the United Nations.

Remarkably, Jefferson designed every aspect and angle, inside and out, despite having no formal architectural training.

As with most things that interested him, which means MOST things, Jefferson became an expert by reading extensively – in this case, studying architecture, particularly that of ancient Rome and the Italian Renaissance.

Greg Woodburn, in the flesh, and Thomas Jefferson, in bronze.

Greg Woodburn, in the flesh, and Thomas Jefferson, in bronze.

A true Renaissance man, his passions ranged from architecture to viticulture, music to bird watching, botany to beer making.

For good reason President Kennedy once famously quipped, at a dinner honoring 49 Nobel Prize winners: “I think that this is the most extraordinary collection of talent, of human knowledge, that has ever been gathered together at the White House, with the possible exception of when Thomas Jefferson dined alone.”

As pleasing as the Declaration of Independence is to the ear, Monticello is to the eye. Viewing the colossal columns and domed rooftop and arched windows from outside is like studying a Monet water scene; the longer you stare, the more perfection you see.

The interior – the grand entry hall filled with Native American artifacts collected by Lewis and Clark, the voluminous library, Jefferson’s bedroom chamber, the dome room above and cellar below – is equally breathtaking.

Too, there are the long and elegant north and south terraces that housed a dairy, smokehouse, kitchen, stables . . .

. . . and slave quarters.

More than being architecture as art, beyond the magnificent panoramic view that extends 45 miles on a clear day, the piece of Monticello that struck me most profoundly is that the man who wrote the Declaration of Independence containing the words “all men are created equal” owned men – and women and children.

Now, I knew Jefferson was a slave owner and that DNA tests support the claim he may have fathered as many as six children with Sally Hemings, a household slave. But these distressing truths do not resonate as deeply and poignantly in two dimensions in a textbook as they do in three dimensions in person.

Indeed, seeing the squalor slave quarters; walking the plantation fields where slaves toiled; hearing that 130 slaves were sold, families torn apart, after Jefferson’s death to pay off his debts, the ugly auction held right here on the lovely West Lawn of the mansion; opened my eyes wider than before.

One final sight – and site – opened my tear ducts as well. It was a graveyard near the parking lot. Not the wrought iron-fenced cemetery containing the tall obelisk tomb of the Founding Father who died on July 4, 1826 – 50 years to the day after the signing of the famous document he drafted – but rather a bare plot scattered with rocks and surrounded by trees, marked with a small sign reading:

“Buried in this graveyard are more than 40 of the nearly 400 men, women, and children who lived in slavery at Monticello from 1770 to 1827. Although the names of Monticello’s enslaved residents are known, it has not been possible to identify the individuals buried here.”

Reflecting in the shade at this unfairly solemn spot, this sinful truth was powerfully clear: “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness” were not unalienable rights for everyone at Monticello.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden&Me_cover_PRCheck out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”

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