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 III: Visiting Mount Vernon

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

 * * *

Goose Bumps on the Potomac River

This is the third 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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The evening before leaving New York City for Virginia on what we nicknamed our “Founding Father’s Field Trip,” my son took me to one of his favorite haunts, The Metropolitan Museum of Art. There was a specific painting he wanted to show me to set the mood for one of our primary destinations.

After a long hike, for The Met is the largest art museum in the United States, we arrived at a cavernous room, Gallery 670 to be precise, in the labyrinth American Wing, and there it was: George Washington, standing commandingly in a row boat with the flag raised behind him, crossing the icy Delaware River on Christmas night 1776 to attack by surprise the Hessians at Trenton.

George Washington's mansion at Mount Vernon

George Washington’s mansion at Mount Vernon

The oil-on-canvas painting by Emanuel Leutze is much larger than expected. Indeed, it is truly massive, a movie theater screen almost, measuring more than 21 feet wide by nearly 13 feet high. In other words, in the framework of how we tend to view Washington, it seems about life-sized.

Washington’s mansion at Mount Vernon, by contrast, in person comes into focus smaller than anticipated. Nonetheless, the impact of visiting the historic home and surrounding grounds is immense.

Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello manor, which we had toured the previous day, is grander and fancier. No matter, Washington’s home surpassed it in goose bumps delivered, not least of all for the breathtaking view of the Potomac River below.

As Washington wrote in a letter to a friend in 1793: “No estate in America is more pleasantly situated than this . . . on one of the finest rivers in the world.” He did not seem to be telling a lie.

“History is marble, and remains forever cold, even under the most artistic hand, unless life is breathed into it by the imagination,” historian Charles Gayarré wrote. “Then the marble becomes flesh and blood; then it feels, it thinks, it moves, and is immortal.”

Walking the halls and rooms at Mount Vernon, including the bedchamber where Washington – “first in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen” – took his last mortal breath at age 67 on December 14, 1799, breathes life into one’s imagination; the cold statue, the profile on the quarter, becomes flesh and blood.

From the mansion, Washington’s Tomb is 10 minutes by foot. Within the iron-gated red-brick vault lie two white marble sarcophagi: the one on the left is inscribed on top “Martha, Consort of Washington” while the companion on the right has a raised eagle and shield, and one word: “Washington.”

George Washington's Tomb

George Washington’s Tomb

The latter’s inscription may be simple, but the emotions evoked standing before it are complex and powerful. One by one and in pairs, visitors take their turn viewing. All pay their respects; most snap a photo; many seemed to pray, their lips moving silently.

Even with a constant gathering of dozens, the tomb site remains eerily quiet, void even of whispering. Occasionally, songbirds break the contemplative hush in a lovely way.

Too, the solemn silence ceases briefly at 3 p.m. daily with the changing of the wreath. The ceremony includes a reading aloud of “George Washington’s Prayer for the Nation.” On this day, a lone butterfly fluttered over the tomb entrance.

Standing in this hallowed spot, looking at the cold marble where the “Father of our Country” rests eternally, my imagination breathed to life. Images of George Washington – from Independence Hall to Valley Forge to the Delaware River and beyond – flashed in my mind’s eye.

The great man’s presence seemed almost palpable. Truly, I was caught off guard by how overwhelming were my emotions; my gratitude, awe and affection. Leutze’s famous painting of Washington more than ever seemed life-sized.

For that moment, the noticeable tear in the giant canvas of Washington’s life disappeared. However, this blot was nearby just down the pathway: the burial ground and memorial to the slaves he owned.

We will walk there in this space next week.

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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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