We had a wonderful Christmas Eve but were so exhausted that we opted to open presents the next day. On Christmas day, we made the Cajun turducken (turkey stuffed with a duck then stuffed with a chicken).
Mom and I got a chance to shop and spend time together and it was nice to have some relaxed time. Seems like when we lived at TGO, things were always so compressed. Living this close has made it easy to get together on a moment’s notice.
We called Bob and Janet and before we knew it, we were meeting for drinks with the two of them and John and Pat. After dinner at the Roadhouse – steaks and lots of wine, we drove back to Pat and John’s for more drinks and to meet the new dog. 
How does one describe a Cajun Thanksgiving? John called it “Brenda Ann’s Train Station”. Coming from our typical Yankee Thanksgiving with 2-4 people and a 12 pound turkey, we walked into a house filled with 40+ people (almost all related) and tables upon tables of food. They had 4 turkeys- baked, smoked, fried – salads, stuffings, and two tables of desserts. A number of the people there were from New Orleans and we got an earful of stories about Katrina and the aftermath.
After the craziness of Thanksgiving, we had a chance to drive into New Orleans to see the devastation of Katrina. It was truly horrifying. It is impossible to describe the damage and destruction of this storm. 3 months later and there are huge areas of the city still uninhabitable. The French Quarter has some life and appeared to be trying to make a comeback. The Uptown and Garden District looked fairly unscathed, but the debris was still everywhere, piled on the curbs. We drove to the Lakeview area and through the 9th Ward area. It was hard to imagine these areas ever coming back.
On Sunday, EJ and Sharon invited us all over for dinner. It was another family dinner- and Sharon made a killer gumbo. It took her two days of cooking to make the gumbo.
After our wonderful Thanksgiving with the Cajuns, we were heading to the Cruisin' Cajun Christmas Rally. What were we thinking? We had volunteered to be the Emergency Coordinators for the Rally! We had to arrive at the rally on Thursday morning. They had our front row parking spot ready for us. We picked up the buckets of supplies- a suitcase of medical supplies, the AED, walkie talkies, cell phone, etc. We had Bert give us a golf cart ride around the property so we’d understand the lay of the land. We frantically pulled out our notes from our Red Cross training session- trying to recall how many breaths and how many compressions, when to use the AED.....
As emergency coordinators, we were on 24/7 and the responsibility was weighty. No drinking, no leaving the premises. On Saturday, as everyone got “happier and happier” and they announced “Open bar”, we started to look at all of these seniors out there dancing and started praying for no accidents. Sunday morning and the end of our duty couldn’t come soon enough for us.
Our giddiness at finally leaving Indiana was something to see. It felt like we would never be able to leave. We did, however, get our start on next years’ punch list. Never a day goes by…. 
After two days in Toledo/Detroit, we hit the road for Chicago and a weekend at John and Mary’s. We hit horrible traffic south of Chicago, but finally arrived at Mary’s. We stayed in Eleanor’s basement apartment and got adjusted to the rhythm of a house with teenagers, two cats and a large black lab (Holly). John was able to get a lot of family info from Mary’s files and we spent a lot of the weekend at the kitchen table sorting through piles of papers and photos. John and Mary had a dinner party on Saturday night, so we made our way to an Afghani restaurant in the next town. The restaurant was spectacular – we had our own little room and the food was heavenly. 
The upstairs came complete with full kitchen, broadband connection with PC and some very unique artwork. We had a shared bathroom but were the only people in the B&B. Breakfast was on the main floor and was amazing. Forgetting our diets, we ate French toast and syrup that tasted like melted sugar.
We took the Architectural Boat Tour on Saturday and got a view of the skyscraper architecture of Chicago. On Sunday, we took a trip to Hyde Park and the Southside and had a great breakfast in Hyde Park. We tried to find Jessie Jackson’s house to no avail. 
On Monday, we decided to see Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty It was a beautiful, sunny day and the ferry gave us spectacular views of the statue and the entire island. It was amazing to see and hear the stories of the hundreds of thousands of immigrants who were processed through Ellis Island.
With a few two many glasses of wine under our belts, we opted to spend the night. Kate warned us to keep our door closed- their cats, evidently not happy with the new additions to their house, have taken to peeing and pooping on everything. They ruined Mark’s burberry coat, Sarah’s leather jacket and they’ve had to replace the carpet in their sunroom. We thought we had made it OK, but in the morning, found that the cats had used the family photos as their litter box. The smell of cat piss is nothing to laugh about—I made John remove the major wet spots before bringing any of the photos into the motorhome.
On Friday, we arranged to meet Roy and Esta in the city for a personal tour of Ground Zero and dinner. Wouldn’t you know, that morning the mayor of NY announced intercepted chatter of a possible terrorist attack in NYC. Security was enhanced, backpacks and bags were being searched in the subways. It was an overcast, rainy day and the ferry didn’t take us close to our meeting point- so we decided to brave the PATH and the subway. What an experience – emerging from the subway to see scores of police with weapons. We met Roy and Esta at the corner of Wall Street and Broadway- the middle of Wall Street. We had a bit of time to see Ground Zero before the rain started pouring down. So, we had an abbreviated tour and headed to the restaurant. Dinner was wonderful—a small, intimate French restaurant.
The weekend started with horrible weather. We had planned to go to the city, but decided that it would be miserable trying to walk in pouring rain. So, we moved our tour to Sunday and met Steph in the afternoon. We got a tour of her new neighborhood and new apartment (a 5 story walk-up—designed only for the young!). The tour at the Tenement Museum was fascinating. The individual stories of the immigrant families, coupled with seeing their apartments gave you an inside view of life in the early 20th Century. After the tour, we made our way to the Malaysian restaurant and had a great dinner.
We always take a walk through "Chucktown" (Charlestown) when we're back in Boston. It's strange to go "home again"-- although as each year goes by, I feel less and less attached to the house. Turns out that the current owner wants to get rid of the hot tub (imagine??!!) She's offering it free to anyone who will take it away---little does she know, but it took a crane to get that puppy in the back yard....
Looking out the window at the nightmare outside, we decided to head into Plymouth to buy some wine and find a place for dinner. The town was filled with cars, tourists and locals with the same idea. We took a recommendation to go to a place on the water, Cabby Shack. Facing an indefinite wait for an outside table, we opted to eat inside and had a bowl of chowder and some chicken fingers.
The weekend was dedicated to the “Harlow Family Reunion”. Imagine meeting cousins with your only connection dating back to 1670. We weren’t quite sure what to expect, but found our way to the Saturday afternoon business meeting and sat quietly and listened. It became apparent that our initial impression, based on the lack of response to our membership application and genealogy information, was fairly indicative of the entire group. Much of the discussion was around the state of the Harlow House – requiring major structural repair- and the mission of the Harlow Family Association. It turns out that the board members were surprised to learn of the mission of the organization. The other discussion over opening membership to non-Harlows got quite a heated discussion. We did meet a few Harlow cousins who had quite a dry sense of humor and had us rolling on the floor. We decided that there must be some connection between these very distant cousins and John's immediate family…..the caustic, dry sense of humor had to come from somewhere- and it appears to be from the Harlows. After a two hour meetings, we had a few hours before the “Family Dinner”. The buffet of kebabs- beef and chicken with salad and “lemonade” was enlivened by our table companions. We made it through about half of the Harlow Family Auction before making our excuses and heading home. We still had Sunday afternoon to make new friends.
The Sunday picnic was held on the grounds of the Harlow House (closed to the public for the renovation work to come). After lunch of hamburgers and hot-dogs, we had the chance to hear the “guest speaker”, one of the Harlow cousins who is the Curator of Gems at the NY Museum of Art. Expecting to be inside, he had planned for a slide presentation. Faced with presenting outside under a tent, he opted to hold up books and pieces of jade as props. We made a hasty exit after the presentation and explored Burial Hill, the old Plymouth cemetery.
We spent the rest of the week doing some Harlow research in the Mayflower Society library and the Plymouth Library. Donna Curtin, the head of the Plymouth Antiquarian Society, gave us a personal tour of the Harlow House. She explained the difficulties they face with the restoration- cracking beams, insect and water damage. She also told us of the plans for the house. Rather than actual furnishings, they plan to use reproductions to allow people to have a hands-on experience with the furnishings used in the 1600’s. The large fireplace used for cooking and baking will be used for cooking demonstrations.
We listened and watched with horror to the news of Hurricane Katrina hitting New Orleans and the Gulf Coast. After the initials reports on Monday, it looked like New Orleans had been spared the brunt of the Category 4/5 hurricanes 150 mph winds. Then, as we were driving through Plymouth, we heard the stories of the levees breaking and water pouring into New Orleans. It was the nightmare that we had talked about when we were with Jean and Gordon in 2002 for the last hurricane. We were glued to the TV watching the streets flooding and saw this beautiful city that we had hoped to call home destroyed. The days following the breach in the levees turned more nightmarish as the 1000’s of people who didn’t have the means to evacuate were left deserted by our government in the Superdome and Convention Center with no food, water or sanitary facilities. People were falling ill and dying of dehydration while gangs looted the local stores taking all of the guns and ammunition, leaving the poor and sick terrorized by gangs. The reports on the news were horrifying- it looked like a third world country, not the “super-power” of the world.
As we’ve traveled the country and seen the crumbling infrastructure of our highways, bridges and the abandonment of our cities, we had been talking seriously about what we would do in a national emergency. The debaucle in New Orleans left us certain that our government is totally incapable of dealing with any kind of disaster- be it natural, terrorism or something like bird flu.
The only quasi hopeful sign was the reaction of our to-date silent media to this tragedy. After years of simply parroting the White House bull-crap, they appear to have found their voice. While they were in the midst of the horrors in New Orleans- in hospitals, the shelters and the streets, they finally called our government on it’s inability to get to those same places.
Brenda and John made a valiant effort to get to Salem- but turned around as they saw the fuel prices rise and the lines for gas grow. They also had to deal with Brenda’s sister and brother-in-law who had to leave their home just outside New Orleans. With no home, no jobs and no idea of when they could return and what they would return to, they moved in with John and Brenda to ride out the storm and its aftermath. Fortunately, their neighborhood and their house made it through with no major damage. But, until they can pump all of the polluted water out of New Orleans, no one is being let back into the city permanently.
With stories of fires damaging 3 blocks of homes in the Garden District, water at the roof levels of other homes and bodies floating in the streets, it has been a nightmare beyond description.
Driving in NY State is always a challenge. We got off the NY Thruway and headed on narrow, twisting roads to our campgrounds, Yogi Bear Jellystone Park. On the banks of the nearly waterless Wallkill River, we were greeted with signs like, “Please Feed the Bears” and life-size statues of Yogi and Boo-Boo. We had one option for our site- the campground was completely filled for the weekend invasion of family tenters. Once we got settled, found that cable would work (barely), we got to appreciate our little haven in the trees….separated from the hoards of families, tents, firepits and swirling kids in helmets riding their bikes.
We had another reason for being in this part of NY State...installing our motorcycle lift on the back of the motorhome. The "gold standard" for motorcycle lifts is a company called, Overbilt. It's a true family operation…everyone is related – all the kids work either in the office or in the “factory”. Art, the owner, has quite an operation. He just closed a deal with Blue OX for an semi-exclusive relationship with them- they handle the manufacturing and get the use of the Overbilt name. Art’s going to be handling “R&D” and doing installations. We got the full tour of his shop. Across the road from the shop is his farm. Art and Darlene have a home on the farm- next door to his father- at 79, still riding motorcycles. 
We spent several days doing more family research- this time, John's father's side. Ploughing through deeds and court records, we were able to pin down the location of John’s great-great-great grandfathers property. We were stunned to find that the brick house on the property still exists. Originally a two story brick building, it has been expanded over the years and is now a bed and breakfast with 9 rooms. We met the owners who were in the process of selling the B&B and buying another property. They were very gracious and showed us the inside and outside of the house, explained their discoveries while renovating-even showed us the cellar.
Our other family search was in the Columbia, PA cemetery. We were lucky to track down one of the volunteers who has taken on the cemetery as a project and has attempted to catalog the gravestones and keep the place maintained. We found the graves of 8 of the AuWerters from the area. 
John’s father had told a family story of the Civil War burning of the Columbia Bridge- with his family playing a key role. So, we had to visit the “Columbia Bridge Burning Diorama” in Wilkensburg. Only open from 1:00-4:00 on Sunday afternoon, we were the only two visitors, paid our $4.00 fee, and got a personal presentation. This man has been doing this presentation for 10 years. The diorama wasn’t the typical audio presentation with lights to highlight the specific battle scenes. No, this was very low budget, with an audio feed and our guide standing over the diorama with a laser pointer, pointing to each battle scene to correspond to the audio. 10 years…. Imagine that!
We pulled into the driveway and were met by a very strange looking man- short, scrawny, cigarette smoking in dusty jeans and an old t-shirt- who appeared to either be on drugs or high on A LOT of caffine. He welcomed us into the house/inn, thinking that we were incoming guests to the inn. Once we explained that we were just interested in getting some history and information on the Whitmers, he started pulling out books and pamphlets on the inn and the family. He sat us down at a table still littered with food—cantelope slices, small boxes of sugary cereals and one of those grocery store coffee cakes still in plastic wrap. It took us a while to realize that this spread was his B&B offering for his guests. The room was packed with stuff- old newspapers, magazines, books lying in stacks all around the room.
In between all the research and encounters with strange and wonderful characters, we made a trip to York, PA, home of the largest Harley Davidson assembly plant. Here they assemble the touring and soft-tail models as well as doing custom work. Their list of products is a bit like a Starbucks menu….fat boy electra glide, heritage soft-tail classic…. The plant was huge-with over 1.5 million square feet under roof. Interestingly, most of the assembly work was done by women-with robots doing a lot of the other work.
To make the Amish seem normal, we went to the Ephrata Cloister. Founded in 1732, this was one of America’s earliest communal societies. The community- composed of “households”- families living on nearby farms- and the 80 celibate Brothers and Sisters. They came together following a charismatic leader from Germany, Conrad Beissel. Beissel believed in Saturday as the main day of worship and a God with a male and female side (the female side was Sophia)-and a desire to unite with god- leaving no room for earthly marriage. The Brothers and Sisters led an austere life- eating only once a day- and then only eating bread, fruits and vegetables. Their nights were spent sleeping on narrow benches with a block of wood as a pillow. From midnight to 2:00 a.m., they were rousted up to watch for Jesus to return “as a thief in the night”. So, without much sleep or much to eat, they spent their days farming, milling and running a printing press. 
Pittsburgh was a pleasant surprise. We found one of the old family houses in Wilkinsburg (just outside the city). It was a beautiful old house- now a 3 family. John managed to take a brick from the house (yet another blonde brick house) – the house where his father was born.
We spent time at the Heinz Historical Library and the Carnegie Mellon Library doing research on the family. With the information we gathered there, we were able to search for some of the houses they lived in and places they worked. It gave us a chance to see a lot of the Pittsburgh neighborhoods. One side of the family worked and lived in an area called the Strip. Once it was filled with factories belching smoke; now it’s become an “it” neighborhood filled with old warehouses turned into lofts and bars, funky little shops selling cheeses, veggies and meats. (We even got to see some of Pittsburgh’s cuties dressed up for a hot Saturday night—chewing gum and drinking beer- at the same time!)
We had one of the many Pittsburgh “originals”- a Primanti’s sandwich. Their claim to fame is the “all in one” sandwich- meat, cheese, coleslaw and French fries on thick slice white bread. The restaurant was filled with sturdy Pittsburgh people. The men (John calls them “meatballs”) are all stocky and beefy. The women are absolutely huge. We watched in horror as these huge people ordered their all-in-one sandwiches with French fries covered with nacho cheese sauce as an appetizer. We found that other Pittsburgh originals include: the Big Mac (invented by a local McDonald’s owner in 1968), Heinz Ketchup, Chipped Ham, and the Klondike Bar. 
(Sandwich Photo courtesy of Flickr: )
The Carnegie Library was lovely –much like the Cleveland Public Library—a grand old building with marble floors and filled with people playing games on the Internet terminals. Our downtowns appear to be dying. Across from the Library was the “Cathedral of Learning”- a breathtakingly ugly Stalinist looking 42 story building that houses classrooms and offices for the University of Pittsburgh. (They call it a “meeting of modern skyscraper and medieval cathedral”.)
We spent one morning at John’s grandfather’s old factory- Columbia Steel and Shafting Company. On our way back through the city, we found our way to the top of Mount Washington and got some spectacular views of the city and the three rivers converging. We made our way down to the South Side. Once home to Eastern European immigrants who came to work in the mills in the early 20th century, today they’ve restored to a 20 block area with coffee houses, restaurants and funky shops. We stopped for a huge corned beef Reuben sandwich- which served as lunch and dinner.
We couldn’t leave Pittsburgh without visiting the Andy Warhol Museum—mostly because it was featuring an exhibit on John Waters, cal
led “From Hags to Vomit Bags”. It was a collection of photos done by Waters – including such memorable collections as “12 Assholes and a Dirty Foot”- or photos taken from his TV of movie clips showing people on the toilet or vomiting. It was quite an insight into the mind of a very strange man. Even more interesting was the stream of people being directed to the exhibit by the stringy X’ers at the ticket booth. They recommended that everyone start with the Waters exhibit- old and young. We saw a 70 year old woman wheeling her 80 year old husband through the exhibits- looking at photos of assholes! Or women with children in strollers wandering past the “porn” section.
We spent a Sunday afternoon driving to Conneaut Lake Park. John’s great-grandfather got started in the amusement park business there- with a small boat business to ferry people across the lake. The amusement park was charming- a little bit of the past still alive. The old rides – the Tilt-O-Whirl, the old wooden roller coaster- were all still operating. The park was packed with families- enjoying the old rides and the lake.
Traveling in the east coast is such a joy—distances are short so you’re never too far from the next interesting city. We came “home” to Cleveland and arrived in time for a thunderstorm. The storm seemed to clear the hot humid air out and the next few days were gorgeous.
On the 4th, we took a trip to Hiram, Ohio—and the home of John Johnson. Johnson was one of the first members of the Mormon Church in Ohio. In 1831 he invited Joseph Smith to move into their family home. While there, Joe worked on his revision of the Bible and received 15 revelations. It was also from this house that he was dragged, beaten, and tarred and feathered by an angry mob in 1832.
With all of the family research done so far, we were able to share some of the findings with John’s cousins, Jay, his wife Janet, cousin Nancy and husband Bob and their mother (John’s aunt), Ida. They invited us for brunch on Sunday at Jay and Janet’s home. Aunt Ida was remarkable! At 80 something, she was sharp as a tack. It was particularly interesting to show all of the family research to her- as she had first hand knowledge of all of these people. She reminisced, “Oh, I remember Uncle Ike…” She told wonderful stories of J T Sir and Edith. Evidently Edith was quite a character. J T Sr. used to say, “Rome wasn’t built in a day, but it would have been if Edith had been in charge”.
We spent the first day in Toledo at the library. The library was phenomenal. The feeling was cozy bookstore- with lots of couches, little cafes- even a gift store selling old library books. The staff at the historical section was great – getting us set up to access the city directories and old maps. After getting our research done, we stopped at a local tradition- Tony Packo’s – for lunch. We ordered a sampler platter- each- and ended up with enough food for two more meals. Guess Klinger from MASH was right- Tony Packo's chili is great! (Check out the wall of their "Famous Buns".
When we finally got to the recording studio, the guide had the “girls’ on the tour do a rendition of “Stop in the Name of Love” and the guys followed with “My Girl”. Imagine the scene- John and 8 black tourists singing and dancing to a Temptations song. John turned to the very large black man next to him and said, “Help out the white guy, OK?”.
Being in the heartland of the automotive industry, we made a stop in Dearborn, the home of Henry Ford and “the Henry Ford Museum”. The museum itself was a bit disappointing- a hodge podge of old cars, planes, farm equipment and appliances with very little attempt made to make a story of how it all tied together. They did have the "Rosa Parks Bus" and the "Kennedy Car" (the car driven in Dallas when he was assasinated) Photo courtesy of Flickr . The highlight of the tour was the Rouge Factory. It was home to the factory building the Ford F150’s – a combination of automation and a lot of labor specifically on the doors. The museum did a nice job of presenting the history of Ford and the auto industry. But, when it came to “the future”, they opted for a multi-media sight, sound, smell and touch theater with lots of hype, but little talk of new technologies and plans for the future of the industry. I guess that’s why our auto industry is in such dire straits while the Japanese seem to be going great guns.
We had some hesitations about the campground- Kamp Kegonsa. They were a bit hesitant about a 45 footer getting into the driveway.We arrived and were faced with a dilemma of which drive to take in- the “entry” or “exit”. I ran up to try to find the camp owner/manager for some advice. Finding no one around, I headed back to the motorhome, now parked on a two lane road with a blind turn in the road. I had seen several cars carefully go around so when I heard some yahoo honking his horn, I turned and gave him the finger. I saw John’s face in sheer horror- then saw the error of my action. I had just given the finger to the local sheriff. He screeched on his brakes and started to scream at me. Visions of being arrested were flashing through my mind. Fortunately, he must have been on his way home so he just told us to “get this thing off the road NOW”. Well, that left us both a bit flustered so when we pulled quickly into the driveway, we weren’t paying attention to the granite wall on the right side. The Essex had an up close and personal meeting with the granite boulder. The TV bay door was scraped and scrunched. What an entry! We finally found the campground owner who showed us the site (the “pull-through” was accomplished by using the main road as a campsite). Quite clever, actually, and with no one at the campground, it worked quite well.
We called Jeff and over a few beers, showed him the scope of our door problem. Over dinner at the local lakeside tavern, John and Jeff decided that they would try to straighten the door enough to ensure a tight seal (critical since this was the TV bay). On Monday, they took off the door and managed to somehow get it to close solidly. The paint will have to wait until our October factory visit. 
Ouside of the scrunched door, it was great to have some time to hang out with Jeff and Kathy. Afer a few beers, stories of this two-some in their younger days could entertain even the toughest crowd.
We were here at the Blue Ox factory to get a tow bar manufactured for our new VW Jetta. The company itself appeared to be very well run. We arrived on Monday of Memorial Day weekend and found ourselves in a small campground directly next to the factory. It was obviously a new site- new landscaping, gravel sites – except for one beautiful concrete pad with a gas grill, beautiful trees and shrubs and a brand new Essex sitting on it. Wondering how one got the “cat-bird” spot, we asked the very friendly receptionist, Rhonda, the following day. Her answer, “You have to own the company”…. The Essex belongs to the owner of Blue OX. After giving us a little welcome gift, we met with Steven from engineering. He explained the process (it would take about 3 days during which time, they would design the plate for our Jetta, built it, paint it, install it and also videotape the install and make a master for future use). Then, he handed us the keys to a Honda for our use during the next few days and offered us a factory tour. Never one to pass up a factory tour, we walked through their operation which includes both tow bar manufacturing and some minor farm equipment manufacturing. It was quite interesting to see the complexity of the tow bar industry and all the variability due to all the car models. 
On Wednesday, we decided to head to Omaha for a Mormon experience. Winter Quarters was about the last stop on the Mormon trail for us. We had seen most of the other major sites last summer and this gave us the chance to see one more LDS movie and meet some more new friends trolling for our souls. Winter Quarters is now a northern suburb of Omaha, but for the Mormons, it was the gathering point for the "Saints" when they were thrown out of Nauvoo, Illinois. Here they gathered before the long trek across the plains and the Rocky Mountains to get to "Zion"--today known as Salt Lake City, Utah. Well, we drove the 1 1/2 hours into Omaha and walked into the Winter Quarters Visitors Center. We were met by "Sister Jessup", a very comely young LDS missionary. Now, it's not often that you get such a good looking LDS female missionary. Typically, they're the 21 year old females in the church that haven't snagged a husband and started having babies. Well, Sister Jessup was a hottie...... So anyway, we got the standard LDS movie and then were met for our private tour of the museum/visitor center. It was actually very well done and Sister Jessup was quite knowledgeable. We made a stop in the library to see if we could find any additional Spencer history and lo and behold found another amazing story. Daniel Jr had brought most of his family into the church and we had heard references to Augustine, the “black sheep” of the family. It turns out that Augustine had brought the charges against Joseph Smith that forced his arrest and incarceration in the Carthage jail (where he was murdered). Sister Jessup took this news without flinching…although, we could imagine the stories she would tell after we left.
