OK in the OTR and CZ

Two people.  Two days off.  Road trip.  

While I have come to generally despise the name "bucket list", I understand its motive.  Natalie and I, looking to hit a target destination, hit the road. 

The drive down to Cincinnati was smooth as it was a Sunday morning.  By lunch time, we had arrived in the Over-The-Rhine neighborhood (OTR).

Needless to say, that name needs some explanation. 

As is so often the case, immigrants moving to a new town gather in clusters based on their heritage or country of origin. Detroit has Mexican Town while Dearborn has a tremendous Middle-eastern population.  For Cincinnati, the mid-19th Century saw a a huge influx of Germans. 

Rhine. Germany.  So the connection is made, right?....sort of. Germans named the neighborhood based on the geography of their homeland. They were indeed "over the Rhine."   A quick peak at a map of Europe shows the Rhine River is the second longest river in the region and is a major part of Germany's identity.

But there is no river in downtown Cincinnati.  That's right - no river exists separating the downtown region with the OTR.  Perhaps those Germans were having one too many lagers?  

It turns out there was a water feature that inspired the name. During Cincinnati's expansion as a midwestern economic force, the Miami and Erie Canal  was cut from Lake Erie to the Ohio River.  This canal, running south along the western counties of the state, literally bisected Cincinnati into a northern and southern portion. Guess where OTR ended up?  Yup - north of the canal.  So from a downtown perspective, OTR was literally over the "river.".

As economic forces changed, the canal lost its muscle. After a short stint as basically an open sewer, the city opted to pursue a subway system. Dead before the first car was on the track, Cincinnati opted to pave the land as a road.  Today, you drive it as Central Parkway. 

Anti-German sentiments came into play during World War I.  This was complicated by the gaff known as Prohibition. After all, what do Germans like to do with their time? Brew beer!  Over a dozen breweries where in the neighborhood at the turn of the 20th Century. Why would a cultural group stay in a region where everyone hates you and numbnuts in your government prevent you from making a living?  You'd leave too! 

Construction of major interstates during the Eisenhower Administration forced the displaced poor in to the OTR that was now partially occupied by the impoverished from Appalachia.  Federal programs soured as crime rose and poverty became entrenched.  By the 1990's, OTR was a neighborhood that you didn't walk in broad daylight. If you didn't need to go there, you didn't go.   (Some studies suggested that crime rivaled that of Compton in Southern California.  While this has been discredited, OTR was still awful. Nobody in the right mind disputes it.)

Yes, we went there.  Now, before you think we're nuts, read this article.  Visit this website.  In short, this is what can happen when concerned citizens and businesses say "enough."

As it turns out, the neighborhood is over 360 acres.  Sure, some of historic buildings are gone, but many remain.  It may turn out to be one of most intact historic neighborhoods in the country.  The National Trust for Historic Preservation placed the neighborhood on the list of the” Eleven Most Endangered Historic Places in America” in 2006. Between 2001 and 2006, 52 historic buildings were demolished.  Realistically, those numbers exceed the number of historic buildings in some cities’ entire historic districts. The neighborhood has now lost about 50% of its historic buildings.  

The opportunity to poke around for the afternoon was tremendous. The weather was great (though a tad warm).  It wasn't anything a cold beer and wood-stove pizza couldn't fix. The Findlay Market was extraordinary.  Built in 1852, the main building is a rare example of the nation’s early iron architecture.  Iron frameworks for construction were a BIG deal when they were first developed - very few remain. 

Still in the OTR, the obligatory cold beers on a warm early summer day came at the Rhinegeist Brewery.  Remember, the OTR neighborhood was largely German when it was settled.  German for "Ghost of the Rhine", the little skulls on the tap are a perfect logo.  Further yet, and perhaps more cool, the current brewery is inside one of the old bottling operations from the Pre-Prohibition Era.   The photo below was taken on the rooftop drinking deck.  Five stories above Cincinnati, the opportunity to taste fancy beer, look at old architecture and and watch sky-diving Peregrines Falcons cant be overlooked. What a great way to enjoy some time...

The inside, it should be mentioned, is simply huge. I mean huge.  Simply massive. Natalie and I were both in awe as we walked up the stairs to the main room.  Thousands and thousands of square feet.   They literally have wiffle ball games inside the building.    

Sadly for us, we did not get a chance to take a tour of the caverns below the building.  For you beer brewing novices, lagers, a German flagship beer, are not fermented at room temperature. They must be kept cooler.  With today's modern technologies, refrigeration is possible.  Historically, brewers would construct large caverns below the breweries were the temperature were suitable.  The caverns still exist below OTR. Perhaps if Natalie and I return, we can get there. In the meantime, the kegs below were in the main ale room.

 

Dinner was at yet another stellar OTR project - The Taft Ale House. Originally, it was the St. Paul’s Evangelical Church and was once the oldest protestant parish in the Queen City (one of Cincinnati's many nicknames). Constructed in 1850 amidst the expanding Over-the-Rhine brewing industry, its rather ironic that the church becomes the brewery, don't you think? 

What's the Taft connection? William H. Taft was from Ohio, specifically Cincinnati.  Ohio is rather proud of their man who went on to be both the President of the United States and the Justice of United States Supreme Court.  

The legend of the rather rotund, 350-pound Taft getting stuck in the tub lives on here. While it has never been confirmed as the story appeared 20 years after he left office, it is known he added a giant tub to White House during his tenure as President. To honor the story - true or not - the Ale House developed what is quite possibly the coolest logo ever....

After dinner drinks were secured in Washington Park. Originally, it was developed in the mid-18th century as a part of the Over-the-Rhine neighborhood after a short tenure as a cemetery. During OTR's less than glamorous days, the property was the dump you would expect it to be.  

Now?  Kids playing in fountains. Beer sales.  Dog parks.  Concert shells.  Playgrounds.  Simply an unbelievable piece of property at only 12 acres in size.  

Parking? Well, think about this. How many cars were there during the development of the OTR? Exactly none.  Needless to say, parking in the area might be a challenge and what you do find might be tight. Well, during the $46,000,000 restoration,  a 450-car garage was built below the park. You would never know it was there as it was mastefrully included. 

Further, the entire neighborhood is now boasting rurals.  The Golden Muse (below) is right next to the park.  It's nice to see art that has not been vandalized.  The city, forward thinking as it is, totally embraces the idea.

 

Lodging was a short skip from Washington Park.  The Symphony Hotel is quite possibly the nicest place we've ever stayed.  Resurrecting an old 18th Century home with the musical theme based on the Cincinnati Music Hall (which is literally across the street), the building is now one of the go-to places for lodging. Fine dining awaits guests before a show at the Hall.  For us, our meal was Monday's breakfast cooked to order.  

Each room, by the way, is named for musical greats.  We opted to pass on the Mozart, Brahms, and Beethoven Rooms. There was no Cypher room interestingly enough.   Instead, the Rachmaninoff seemed appropriate.  Named for Sergei Rachmaninoff, the room was stunningly detailed in late 18th Century furniture.  What a room.  

As a biology nut, I always find the historic medical investigations of the deceased to be fascinating.  While it has yet to confirmed (if indeed it ever can be), evidence suggests that Rachmaninoff suffered from either Marfan Syndrome or Acromegaly.  Both congenital conditions result in large hands (among other traits).  He was noted as writing piano pieces with chord structures that involved tremendous stretching of the fingers.  His skills as a pianist were certainly added by his biology.

While our first day in town was largely an "off-the-cuff" sort of structure, Day 2 was certainly planned. In fact, it was really the entire reason for the trip.

The Cincinnati Zoo and Botanical Gardens is one of the premier zoos in the country.  One of the nation's oldest, it made recent headlines for the killing of Harambe the Gorilla. While certainly a horrible situation (and correctly handled by the zoo, by the way), another death occurred there that should not be overlooked. 

John James Audubon, the noted 19th Century ornithologist, estimated that the Passenger Pigeon population was in excess of 3 billion birds.   Unregulated hunting and massive habitat loss brought the once abundant bird to extinction.  Martha, the world's last passenger pigeon, died in her enclosure at the Cincinnati Zoo on September 1st, 1914.  

Her enclosure remains.  The statue below is there in her honor, as well.  Her time of death is noted as 1pm - this makes that moment in time one of the only episodes (if not the only  episode) in world history where the extinction of an animal is precisely known.  

Interestingly, and even more unknown to most folks, the world's last Carolina Parakeet died here, as well.  Incas died on February 21, 1918.

While it was not horribly hot, it was hot enough if you are not used to humidity.  Regardless, it goes without saying that cameras and zoos go hand in hand.

Giraffes, in case you don't know, poop different depending on whether they are males, females, or moms who have just given birth.  

Orangutans, as you might imagine, spend alot time in zoos doing nothing.  Contrary to the opinions of the public, their time in the wild is spent doing much of the same... 
 

Gray-crowned Cranes are native to Africa.  Like so many other species of wildlife, they are experiencing declining populations.  Sucks for Uganda.  It's their national bird and is shown on their flag.

Meerkats have become very popular given their successful show Meerkat Manor.  Their tendency to post a guard while the rest forage is an excellent trait that shows their "all-for-one one-for-all" mentality.  It works great.......right up until they each other's offspring to help ensure better odds for their own kids. I wonder if they showed that on the television!

Ultimately, the two day tour of Cincinnati was superb.  Beer.  Buildings.  History.  World class zoo.  In fact, it was so enjoyable, we may have to head back.  There were plenty of parts we never covered. 

Fort Wayne

As any student of American history knows, the United States and Great Britain have had an interesting relationship.  We hated each other.  We continued to hate each other.  We liked each other.  Now they hate us again.   

After the second "we hate each other" phase, cooler heads prevailed and peace existed...for a short time, anyhow.  During the late 1830's, internal conflict within Canada swelled into a little known brouhaha known as the Patriot War. 

While United States troops were involved (sort of), it brought to the forefront a grand gaff of strategic military planning relating to the protection of our newly acquired soils. Federal documentation attributed to an unknown author (or perhaps just an interpretation of a suspected conversation by the writer of this blog) states:  "Holy s***.  If we find ourselves hating them again, we are so screwed because they have a fort on the Detroit River and we don't....."

Enter Fort Wayne.  Named after the western movie star, John  General "Mad" Anthony Wayne, funds were secured and the fort was built in what is now Del Ray in Detroit.  Shortly after the fort's completion in 1851, but before the installment of the first cannon, peace prevailed yet again.

While one might think the fort immediately slipped into disrepair, it did not.  (That comes later.)  The Civil War, World War I, World War II, Korea and Vietnam all saw Fort Wayne playing a role.  During the Arsenal of Democracy, the grounds were functionally the world's most impressive motor pool.  The tanks and jeeps rolling off assembly lines of Metro Detroit passed through Fort Wayne before heading to Europe.  The Vietnam era saw the grounds used for swearing in new soldiers before closing before finally closing.

After a short stint as the Fort Wayne Military Museum under the auspices of the Detroit Historical Museum, it has been operated, as of 2006, by the Detroit Recreation Department, assisted by the Historic Fort Wayne Coalition, the Friends of Fort Wayne, and the Detroit Historical Society.

With my newfound freedoms following graduation and a free day in my schedule, I headed to the Fort's grounds for photography.  Like many photographers, I find black-and-white conversions to be very appealing for images of the built environment. 

This is the original 1848 limestone barracks.  Note the addition on the back elevation of the building. Fossils were found in some of the front blocks as limestone is functionally old sea creatures. 

 

Sadly, funding is lacking.  Some buildings have been restored. Others have not.  The rowed buildings below are the quarters for the Non-commissioned Officers.  They are duplexes. 

While some buildings were literally converting to trellises for various botanicals, some could use some simple attention. The door below, while shoddy looking, really just needed some paint. Sure, the side lights needed replacement, but that is largely cosmetic.  While ugly and beautiful at the same time, this door is not as decrepit as it looks. 

Any fort needs defensive works.  Otherwise.......it's a really bad fort, or not a fort at all.  This board is held in place to minimize bird entry.  Back in the day, as the saying goes, a soldier could discharge their weapon from this gun port at an attacker.  The slot is only perhaps 5 inches wide, but that is enough room to do the deed. Note the lintel over the port.  

Brick courses are much more involved than people realize.  Almost any building today is laid out in "Common Bond."  If you look closely at historic buildings, however, you'll note that bricks are assembled in various patterns.  In the hands of skilled craftsmen, these patterns can become impressive.  Others, like the "English Bond" below, are marginally flashy, but easily overlooked.  The long face of a brick is the stretcher  while the short face is the header.  Note that every other course of bricks is entirely headers while the other courses are stretchers.  The exterior walls at Fort Wayne were not originally brick at all. These were added later. 

  

Storage of munitions is an issue with any military installation, even to this day.  Many historic forts have powder houses. In the event of an accidental explosion of potentially hundreds or even thousands of pounds of gun powder, damage could be extensive.  The standard design of the time called for an arched roof and stout stone walls. In the event of an accidental discharge, the force of the explosion would be driven up, not out.  

In the case of the Fort Wayne Powder House, protection goes beyond roof design.  The building (slightly larger than a one-car garage) is recessed into a hill.  Around the building, an open space reinforced with limestone beams can be found.  In the image below, the space is perhaps four feet wide while the beams are near chest high.  Note that the construction techniques are not identical on the two walls.  The left wall is the exterior wall of the powder house while the right wall is an interior wall of the hill in which the building is recessed.

Sadly, so much of the fort is in disrepair. Sure the property still gets used.  Civil War reenactments, flea markets, and soccer games now replace marching soldiers, motor pools, and poker.  In any case, if you appreciate history, architecture or the military, it is worth your time. 

Check it out.  It doesn't matter who currently hates whom.

Wheels to Wheeling

“The cultural landscape is fashioned from a natural landscape by a cultural group. Culture is the agent, the natural area is the medium, the cultural landscape is the result"

Carl Sauer wrote that.  Sounds pretty "out there"...huh?  Yeah, well, these are the cool things that folks like me get to ponder in Historic Preservation programs.  It is much more than "Hey, don't sandblast old bricks" or "That's a One-Third Georgian floor plan."  Some of it is very cerebral stuff.

Pulling from Dr. Sauer's line, lets say that cultural base, in this case, is a small town. Lets say the natural area is the river near it and the hills that surround it.  The cultural landscape is a meshing of the two. Its not just the river, but how people used the river or how the river impacted the town and therefore the people.

If we say that the small town is Wheeling, West Virginia and the river is the Ohio, you have an outstanding opportunity to study American cultural landscapes. I recently returned from a specially designed week-long class.  I can tell you with certainty that this class was clearly one of the best I have had in my graduate studies.  

Lets ignore the fact that West Virginia is often near the bottom of good lists and the top of bad lists when compared to the other 49 states. Lets look past the fact that drug use is rampant in there. Lets look past the fact that East Wheeling is reminiscent of the post-apocalyptic world  seen in the opening minutes of the Terminator.

Instead, lets look at a town that is architecturally awesome.  This is especially true if compared to the rather stagnant Downriver area I call home ("Ooooh look, its a...ranch...").  Lets look at a town that was the "Gateway to the West" before St. Louis gained the title.  The National Road certainly had a play in this (and likely had better construction that modern-day I-75 in Monroe County!). How about being the hometown of Rebecca Harding Davis?

Who?

Rebecca Harding Davis is considered to be the founder of a writing style called "literary realism." Basically, authors write about everyday experiences of everyday people.  While that is hardly profound nowadays, somebody had to start it, right? That's the rub here.  Big powerful people are constantly the subject of literary works but what about the common Joe shoveling coal in a dirty town? That's what she wrote about.   If we study the town and study the writings about those Joes, the cultural landscapes become less muddy. Historians have a better picture of what Wheeling really was which ultimately contributes to what is has become. 

Ultimately, the class, co-led by Professors Dan Bonenberger and Melissa Milton-Pung, gave us the chance to dissect Wheeling during the Rebecca Harding Davis era, specifically the Antebellum Period (Pre-Civil War).  Dan, as a "Wheelinger", has been studying this town for years and has incorporated it into many of his lessons. In fact, rumor has it that Dan is actually, in part, a reincarnate of a mysterious young man who was madly in love with her. but died over a century ago... (By the way, from here on out, I'll just use RHD.)

So, with visits to the Deeds Office, the Ohio County Library,  West Virginia's Independence Hall, historic districts, and the Center Market, RHD's Wheeling came to life.  

Of course, the opportunity to visit RHD house would be wonderful. Yeah, well, no.  Notice the past tense of that sentence. It didn't happen.  Sadly, a few years back (the 1970's?), her home was taken town.  A small part of Dan died, I'm sure.  The location is now....wait for it...a parking lot and can be seen in the picture below.  Is it just in front of the green building (which stood in RHD's time). 

Of course, not all of Wheeling as it stands now was there for her.  If she needed a coffee, it would have been brewed in her home and not secured at the Startbucks that resides in the Barnes and Noble Bookstore.  But, having an architectural eye gave us the opportunity to ponder how the town looked to her. 

Take the photo below.  Is that a beautiful looking street or what?  Well, she did not see it that way at all, at least not during the Antebellum Period.  The only home standing during that time would have been the stubby little green one on the right.  All the others are Post-Civil War structures.  

Now what if RHD needed eggs to go with that coffee?  I would suspect one place she could have purchased it was the Center Market.  It's still standing.  Yup, since 1853 (older than West Virginia itself!), folks can still go there and get some groceries or perhaps some fish from Coleman's.  

If you think about cities, they often have some sort of diagnostic feature that identifies them.  Detroit has the GM World Headquarters. San Fransisco has the Transamerica Pyramid.  Wheeling has its suspension bridge.  While some may say "big whoop" with a sarcastic roll of the eyes, I say "cool."

It was the longest suspension bridge in world upon completion in 1849.  Over a thousand feet long, it was a critical step in the National Road as traffic could now move west into Ohio. It remains the oldest vehicular suspension bridge in the United States still in use and is listed as both a National Historic Landmark and Historic Civil Engineering Landmark. That is quite a feat, if you think about it.  In 1849, there were no automobiles. It was just horses and wagons. A bridge intact all this all this time is really quite amazing.

Now, that said, I need to step into the world of full disclosure.  Obviously, the bridge has had some tweaks along the way. In one point, it was widened. Perhaps most significantly, it was, umm....rebuilt.  Not the towers, the deck.  In May of 1854, it collapsed during a windstorm.  Of course, this is not the only episode of a bridge collapsing in the wind. If you want to see what I mean, check out this video of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge from 1940. Perhaps the Wheeling Bridge suffered the same fate?

In any case, the Wheeling Suspension Bridge  is really quite impressive.  The photo below was taken at rush hour.  As you can see, rush hour in Wheeling is not the same as rush hour elsewhere....

Historically, Wheeling was a major city back in the day.  During the late 1800s especially, the river front along the Ohio was a mad house of commerce.  The Wharf, as it was called, was exactly not that,but it was. Well, at least not in the sense that people would consider a wharf, not be be confused with Worf.  

Ugh.  Let me explain.

A wharf, in the traditional sense, is a wooden assembly along a waterway used to dock a boat.  The Wharf along the Ohio was simply where the boats came close to shore to manage their freight, but there was no dock. So how did they not drift down the river, you might ask?  They simply tied off to the giant iron rings along the wall that is easily 50 yards from the water's edge. Access to the boat was along a wooden plank. These rings are easily a foot in diameter.

  
Of course, Wheeling would still be in Virginia (as opposed to West Virginia) if the Civil War never happened.  Dissatisfied with the course that Virginia had taken at the outset of America's bloodiest war, counties in the northwest corner of the state opted to excuse themselves and form their own state.  Clearly lacking originality with a name, West Virginia (...woah...how profound...), became its own state in 1863.  

Francis Harrison Pierpont was instrumental in guiding the region through this process.  His statue now stands outside of West Virginia Independence Hall.  I was actually somewhat familiar with the hall as I had to build a computer model of it a few semesters ago as a part of Dan's Antebellum Wheeling project in his Digital Cultural Heritage class.  I can honestly say it was quite amazing to see a building in real life after I was already  so familiar with it.  (Sadly, my friend Bill could not say the same.  The church he modeled was taken down just a few weeks before we arrived. Both the Hall and Church stood during RHD's time.)

The Mount Wood Cemetery is a must if you like old cemeteries.  Established in 1831, some of the major players in Wheeling's history can be found here.  Frustratingly, the opportunity to really get into the nooks and crannies of the place did not occur as I was only there during a class session.  In any case, simply walking the grounds is amazing.  With a handful of late 19th century mausoleums on such hilly terrain, it is unlike most cemeteries around here (at least outside of Detroit).

For the record, it should be noted that the dark black mausoleum in the photo below is not shown in the natural stone color.  I'll give you four guesses.  1) Black paint from vandals.  2) 19th century pollution 3) Photoshop fun 4) Not sure.  

If you guessed "pollution", you would be right.  Remember Wheeling was a industrial town for decades.  Now, imagine that gunk in your lungs and what it could do to your health. Now, imagine that you were a worker over a 100 years ago when labor laws simply did not exist as they do today.  Imagine a writer who detailed the horrors of this lifestyle.  Now you have Rebecca Harding Davis.

So if you are now wondering what I REALLY did in the this class, it was not all show-and-tell field-trip stuff.  Sure, that stuff is important when detailing a landscape as cultural landscapes are about people and places, right?

For the "places portion," each team was assigned a series of structures (many were homes) in the historic district of North Wheeling.  Research in city hall and  the library allowed us to establish a chain of possession for the homes and find out a bit about those people.  

The ultimate part of the entire class can on Saturday when we had to survey the structures.  Everything from the roof type, window patterns, brick patterns, height and host of other factors needed to be addressed. Each survey was pages long.  

As fate would have it, my team - Team Franklin (myself, Sam and Tiffany) - found the needle in the haystack.  The Rembrandt in the attic. 

Twice.  

The first was the Duplex in the I-house. 

No. Really.  A duplex in an I-house. 

Let me digress.   

Look at the image below. 

    

This is an I-House. They are common in the Delaware River Valley and points due west (but not common at all in Michigan as Michigan is largely influenced by New England architecture).  The floor plan goes something like this... The front door opens to a central hall with stairs in the back leading to the second floor.  The main floor has two flanking rooms on the opposite sides of the central hall. The second floor is basically like the first floor. Two rooms. Central hallway. The place is also what is called "one pile deep." That is one room deep. 

Well, while we were looking at this home, the owner (who lived a few yards away) came over and chatted with us as he could tell we were certainly interested in his building.   (The neon vests, clipboards and lots of pointing probably helped.)

He let us in.   

My previously described floor plan did not exist. 

Instead, the central hall had stairs only going to the basement.  The hall was shared by what was clearly two separate units - one at each end.  Each unit had its own stairs to the second floor. The two rooms upstairs were separated by a party wall.   

The building was a duplex.   

It was the I-House that was really a duplex - a statistical anomaly in the I-House construction.  I would bet a paper could be drafted on this one house.

Now, you might think the unit stairs were added later but the owner made it clear that there is no evidence of any internal shenanigans. The place was a duplex from the ground up.

As you can see from the photo, the place was gutted by a fire.  The owner is in the process of restoring it to its former glory. The city wanted to tear it down...

Oh, but our fun did not end there.

We were also tasked with expanding our search to investigate homes outside of our block that might be in need of future investigations.   We did not need to take crazy notes about brick patterns and what-not. It was simply "Does that place look like someone down the road should investigate it with Antebellum Wheeling in mind?"

Just a block from the I-House/Duplex, we found this house:

You need to recognize that this home looked like NOTHING else on the block.  Nothing.  What caught our attention was the back of the roofline.  More or less a catslide roof, no other home had it. Overall, it was a small place. One and half stories.  It looked....odd.

Again, our gawking and haz-mat yellow vests garnered the attention of the homeowner.  After a brief conversation, he was simply asked if he knew how old his home was.

"1812..."

Boom.  

"Well, how do you know...?"

"I researched it at the Deed Office...."  

Boom again.  That was the exact same thing we were doing with other structures the day before.  That is a golden ticket.  "My mom told me...." is nowhere near as solid.

So, if his testimony turns out to be true, he is in one of the oldest surviving homes in Wheeling. As far as I can tell, this home has been under the radar of local historians. It won't be the oldest home as that one is clearly noted in the books ( a stone house from 1795).  But this one? It could be the second oldest.....

(What was really cool is we had the opportunity to be inside a home with an 1831 facade just a few hours earlier.  Sadly, the original interior burned out a few years back while the exterior front survived. When the interior was re-built, it was modernized as the original layout was never confirmed.  Perhaps even more cool was the fact that I had to model that home,too!)

How about that? Two great finds!  The house that is really homes and the home that is likely older than the state of West Virginia itself.      

Overall, the class was outstanding.  A bit of this. A bit of that.  Applying learned information from the graduate program and learning more along the way.  Getting to know classmates.  It was just a great time. Its hard to believe it was grad class as fun trumped work.

But there was a moment that really quite chilling.  Natalie had joined me.  (That is not the chilling part.)  While I was doing school work, she went hiking and birding in the area. 

When my class ended at 12:00, I walked over to the Center Market to meet her.  The route from the library to the market took me within feet of RDH's home site.  

A church bell went off nearby. I don't know which one.  

 

Rebecca Harding Davis' church still stands.  It is completely possible that I heard the bell from her church while walking the same route in her neighborhood that she would have walked if she were going to the Market. 

I functionally froze in my tracks. Really I did.

I wonder what Carl Sauer would have thought?