There is no man living that cannot do more than he thinks he can.
- Henry Ford
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Niagara Falls
Friday afternoon I went down to Niagara Falls to take pics of the famous waterfalls. Without having been to the US side, I think I can say with a fair degree of certainty that they are best viewed from the canuck side. Mighty purdy anyway.
All pics here.
Some overview pics:
Some close-ups:
Canada on the left, the US on the right.
From above the falls on the Canadian side.
All pics here.
Some overview pics:
Some close-ups:
Canada on the left, the US on the right.
From above the falls on the Canadian side.
Dear Canada
I appreciate your concern for the wellbeing of your citizens and your desire to run a tight ship on your border, I really do. However, if, in your eagerness to protect your territorial integrity, you might have forgotten to employ actual hominids, allow me to give you this gentle reminder.
Even in dirty, rotten, corrupt kleptocracies like Moldova, Serbia and Ukraine, the border guards have the courtesy of asking you to show them your luggage. They will ask you to open anything that may be closed. In America, that country so often reviled for harsh border controls, they will only open your luggage and go through it while you personally view the proceedings.
Imagine then my surprise when, upon crossing your border Friday morning some miles north of Detroit, I was met by two young specimens I can only describe as being of a simian disposition. Not only were they inquisitive bordering (ahaha) upon the insane, they also went through my personal belongings like a group of chimps looking for bananas.
First, I was ordered sternly to the front of the car while these two baboons wearing the proud maple leaf went through my luggage without me having any way of controlling what they were doing. They checked the contents of my camera without asking and without any regard for my privacy. They went through my luggage in the trunk, without bothering to put stuff back where it belonged or to close the various suitcases and bags whence they had been removed. They did this without informing me about what they'd done, so that I only discovered the carnage that was my luggage upon arrival in Toronto, several hours later.
At no point during this ordeal did I have the opportunity to see what they were up to, so that theoretically they could have stuffed whatever they so whished into my luggage. Both as a matter of judicial principle and of privacy, this is completely out of line for any border authority, especially one in a civilized country with a reputation for courtesy and friendliness such as Canada.
Yours disappointedly,
Ghost
PS: You need to add about ten lanes - each way - to the ON 401 going through Toronto, so as not to have infernal traffic jams on weekends. Might I suggest a small nuclear device? I'm sure nobody in Toronto would notice.
Even in dirty, rotten, corrupt kleptocracies like Moldova, Serbia and Ukraine, the border guards have the courtesy of asking you to show them your luggage. They will ask you to open anything that may be closed. In America, that country so often reviled for harsh border controls, they will only open your luggage and go through it while you personally view the proceedings.
Imagine then my surprise when, upon crossing your border Friday morning some miles north of Detroit, I was met by two young specimens I can only describe as being of a simian disposition. Not only were they inquisitive bordering (ahaha) upon the insane, they also went through my personal belongings like a group of chimps looking for bananas.
First, I was ordered sternly to the front of the car while these two baboons wearing the proud maple leaf went through my luggage without me having any way of controlling what they were doing. They checked the contents of my camera without asking and without any regard for my privacy. They went through my luggage in the trunk, without bothering to put stuff back where it belonged or to close the various suitcases and bags whence they had been removed. They did this without informing me about what they'd done, so that I only discovered the carnage that was my luggage upon arrival in Toronto, several hours later.
At no point during this ordeal did I have the opportunity to see what they were up to, so that theoretically they could have stuffed whatever they so whished into my luggage. Both as a matter of judicial principle and of privacy, this is completely out of line for any border authority, especially one in a civilized country with a reputation for courtesy and friendliness such as Canada.
Yours disappointedly,
Ghost
PS: You need to add about ten lanes - each way - to the ON 401 going through Toronto, so as not to have infernal traffic jams on weekends. Might I suggest a small nuclear device? I'm sure nobody in Toronto would notice.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Quote of the Day
It is not the employer who pays the wages. Employers only handle the money. It is the customer who pays the wages.
- Henry Ford
- Henry Ford
Motown Museum
So. I had intended to go see the Ford Museum today, but it was not to be. I had been twitching since last night due to the price (over 40 bucks!) and when I arrived to see all the cars in the huuuuge parking lot, a cold sweat broke out. As I went inside and saw the long, long lines darkness fell upon my soul and the walls drew nearer. When I finally saw something about a five dollar parking fee I was outta there.
And I'm glad I left that place, because I chose instead to go to Motown Museum, where I not only got away with only ten dollars, but also spent an informative and entertaining hour both outside and inside the museum buildings.
Motown is the "black" record label created in 1959 by Berry Gordy. He grew up in a very entrepreneurial African American family; both his parents started and ran businesses, and all their kids had to work from an early age.
Barry Gordy ran Motown like a tight ship; they had a machine where you clocked in and out and if you were late for a meeting you'd find a closed door. Every Friday everybody would gather and listen to some new singles, and if that single didn't get enough thumbs up, it was simply not released. In the beginning, Berry didn't put pics of his artists on the record sleeves, since race could be an impediment to sales.
But he wasn't just a shrewd businessman, he was also a creative powerhouse, and he gathered around him dozens of talented and smart people. He created the "Motown sound" and made sure his artists were trained in singing, harmonics, dancing and everything else. As the woman responsible for educating young street hoodlums said: They could be sent to stages everywhere in the world, they could be introduced to kings and queens. They had to be prepared. The contrast to rap music's yo yo yo/fuck/bitches/etc could not be greater.
Within the first decade Gordy had 400 people working for him. The original studio building expanded to 8 buildings on the same street. The tour takes you through only two, but it's a fascinating look behind the scenes of a true American success story, skin color be damned.
After the tour I went outside to take some pics and got to talking to a family of African Americans from Seattle. When they heard I was on a loooong trip and that I'd just done my 50th state, they were all aflame and we had a very nice chat. They even laughed when I suggested they sell their kids to medical science to finance a similar trip. It's little meetings like this that remind me why I love America and Americans so much, and that make the difference between mere travel and a proper journey.
All pics here (sadly they had a ban on photos inside).
And I'm glad I left that place, because I chose instead to go to Motown Museum, where I not only got away with only ten dollars, but also spent an informative and entertaining hour both outside and inside the museum buildings.
Motown is the "black" record label created in 1959 by Berry Gordy. He grew up in a very entrepreneurial African American family; both his parents started and ran businesses, and all their kids had to work from an early age.
Barry Gordy ran Motown like a tight ship; they had a machine where you clocked in and out and if you were late for a meeting you'd find a closed door. Every Friday everybody would gather and listen to some new singles, and if that single didn't get enough thumbs up, it was simply not released. In the beginning, Berry didn't put pics of his artists on the record sleeves, since race could be an impediment to sales.
But he wasn't just a shrewd businessman, he was also a creative powerhouse, and he gathered around him dozens of talented and smart people. He created the "Motown sound" and made sure his artists were trained in singing, harmonics, dancing and everything else. As the woman responsible for educating young street hoodlums said: They could be sent to stages everywhere in the world, they could be introduced to kings and queens. They had to be prepared. The contrast to rap music's yo yo yo/fuck/bitches/etc could not be greater.
Within the first decade Gordy had 400 people working for him. The original studio building expanded to 8 buildings on the same street. The tour takes you through only two, but it's a fascinating look behind the scenes of a true American success story, skin color be damned.
After the tour I went outside to take some pics and got to talking to a family of African Americans from Seattle. When they heard I was on a loooong trip and that I'd just done my 50th state, they were all aflame and we had a very nice chat. They even laughed when I suggested they sell their kids to medical science to finance a similar trip. It's little meetings like this that remind me why I love America and Americans so much, and that make the difference between mere travel and a proper journey.
All pics here (sadly they had a ban on photos inside).
Mr Squirrel
By the parking lot of the Hayes museum, there is a tree stump of some historic significance. Back in the day it was where a white woman (I forget her name) was tied up all nekkid, and the injuns were ready to burn her the next day. Fortunately she was saved by some white trapper guy.
Today this stump is almost hollow, and the local squirrels, of which there are MANY, sit and stuff face here all day long, seemingly oblivious to the people driving or walking right by them. I dunno if this is a missus or a guy, but I've chosen to call it Mr Squirrel. Feast your eyes on this lovable rouge. All pics here.
Down the rabbit hole...
Today this stump is almost hollow, and the local squirrels, of which there are MANY, sit and stuff face here all day long, seemingly oblivious to the people driving or walking right by them. I dunno if this is a missus or a guy, but I've chosen to call it Mr Squirrel. Feast your eyes on this lovable rouge. All pics here.
Down the rabbit hole...
Rutherford Birchard Hayes Home
Wednesday, I took a slight detour to visit the Hayes home in Fremont, OH. It was owned by president Rutherford Birchard Hayes (1877-81), aka "his fraudulency". He won a highly disputed election in 1876, which included shenanigans in not only Florida, but also Louisiana and South Carolina AND one electoral vote in Oregon. He was finally declared the winner, but promised not to run for re-election, and most of his political initiatives were stymied by Congress.
Hayes was top of his class at Harvard Law School, and later fought in the Civil War. He got a very good recommendation from none other than Ulysses S. Grant himself. He was elected to the House of Representatives and later served 3 terms as Ohio governor. By all accounts he was as fair minded and honorable a man as one could reasonable hope for, considering his occupations.
The house in Fremont was originally built by the maternal uncle of Rutherford (aka Ruddy... I am not making that up!), who pretty much raised him, as his father had succumbed to the plague before the future prez was even born. The house was originally about a third of its present size, but Rutherford added quite a bit to it. In all, five generations lived here before it was turned over to the State in 1965. Next door is a large museum and library.
Sadly, pics were verboten inside the home, so you'll have to take my word for it that it was both magnificent and tastefully decorated. All pics here.
The house.
The museum next door. It suddenly struck me just now that I forgot to visit his grave, which is on the same land somewhere. Fuck, fuckety-fuck.
A young Rutherford courting his future wife, Lucy. They had a very happy marriage, and he was inconsolable when she died from a stroke in 1889. "The lights have gone out", he wrote.
Political memorabilia. Me wants. My precioussss...
Hayes was top of his class at Harvard Law School, and later fought in the Civil War. He got a very good recommendation from none other than Ulysses S. Grant himself. He was elected to the House of Representatives and later served 3 terms as Ohio governor. By all accounts he was as fair minded and honorable a man as one could reasonable hope for, considering his occupations.
The house in Fremont was originally built by the maternal uncle of Rutherford (aka Ruddy... I am not making that up!), who pretty much raised him, as his father had succumbed to the plague before the future prez was even born. The house was originally about a third of its present size, but Rutherford added quite a bit to it. In all, five generations lived here before it was turned over to the State in 1965. Next door is a large museum and library.
Sadly, pics were verboten inside the home, so you'll have to take my word for it that it was both magnificent and tastefully decorated. All pics here.
The house.
The museum next door. It suddenly struck me just now that I forgot to visit his grave, which is on the same land somewhere. Fuck, fuckety-fuck.
A young Rutherford courting his future wife, Lucy. They had a very happy marriage, and he was inconsolable when she died from a stroke in 1889. "The lights have gone out", he wrote.
Political memorabilia. Me wants. My precioussss...
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Quote of the Day
Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young. The greatest thing in life is to keep your mind young.
- Henry Ford
- Henry Ford
The Armstrong Museum
The Armstrong Air and Space Museum is just south of Lima, Ohio where I've spent Tuesday. It is named after famous astronomer and all-American hero Neil Armstrong, and gives you an insight into the various space programs that ended up with the moon landing. You can land (or crash) THREE different types of spacecraft, see how the criteria for being an astronaut has changed (sadly, they're still not allowing slobby couch potatoes) and generally just get filled with wonder at it all.
I went there with my old pal from Chathouse, Sheila, who was born and raised in Lima, aka "the armpit of the midwest" as one diner at a local restaurant called it Monday night... Well, we had a jolly good time at the museum, armpits be damned.
All pics here.
If you look closely, that's yours truly inside the "spacesuit".
I'm not sure what a scrawny, naked, dancing man is doing in a space museum, but I believe it was a reference to Icarus of ancient Greek fame.
The text at the bottom of the drawing reads "unbound".
The first image of the Earth taken from a vehicle in lunar orbit. I'm old enough to find this cool.
The quiet, sacred solemnity of the "infinity room" shattered by the unmerciful flash of my camera. After this, karma struck and the battery went dead.
I went there with my old pal from Chathouse, Sheila, who was born and raised in Lima, aka "the armpit of the midwest" as one diner at a local restaurant called it Monday night... Well, we had a jolly good time at the museum, armpits be damned.
All pics here.
If you look closely, that's yours truly inside the "spacesuit".
I'm not sure what a scrawny, naked, dancing man is doing in a space museum, but I believe it was a reference to Icarus of ancient Greek fame.
The text at the bottom of the drawing reads "unbound".
The first image of the Earth taken from a vehicle in lunar orbit. I'm old enough to find this cool.
The quiet, sacred solemnity of the "infinity room" shattered by the unmerciful flash of my camera. After this, karma struck and the battery went dead.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Quote of the Day
We are living in a sick society filled with people who would not directly steal from their neighbor but who are willing to demand that the government do it for them.
-William L. Comer
-William L. Comer
Monday, June 25, 2012
Quote of the Day
There is nothing which we receive with so much reluctance as advice.
- Joseph Addison
- Joseph Addison
Benjamin Harrison Home
This should really have been a post from St Louis, where I was supposed to have seen the Arch, the historical museum next to it and the Missouri western expansion museum. Well, the traffic jam of the century put a quick stop to that. Disgusted by the long lines and hardly having moved in the previous 20 minutes, I swung the car over to an exit, and got on the other side of the freeway and fucked off outta there.
Instead, I've found myself in the nice city of Indianapolis where I've had a most interesting visit to the home of one of America's least well known presidents, Benjamin Harrison. He was the grandson of another president, William Henry Harrison, who holds the record for the shortest presidency; a mere 30 days.
Harrison's one term is wedged in between the two separate terms of one of the greatest presidents ever, semi-libertarian Grover Cleveland. In addition, Harrison actually had fewer popular votes than Cleveland, but since he had a majority of the Electoral College, that didn't mean diddly squat, except to those few of us who believe in the old fashioned idea that in a democracy, even a constitutional one, the winner is the one with the most votes. But I digress.
Despite his single term and somewhat feeble electoral record (he also lost a run for the governorship of Indiana a few years before), Harrison is remembered as an honest man, and the campaign of 1888 is widely recognized as one of the more civilized in the 19th century. Harrison was a progressive man in many ways, strongly favoring education as a means of liberation and giving money to educational endowments for black students. He tried (but failed) to pass laws to protect the black vote in the south. He also let both his daughters go to college. In later years he had a falling out with his children from his first marriage, because after his wife died, he went ahead and married her niece, who was over thirty years his junior. The old scoundrel.
All pics here.
The house was built in 1876. Harrison was the first president to electrify the White House and also put electricity AND running water in his own house.
His grandfather's campaign had the slogan "Tippecanoe and Tyler too", after the battle of Tippecanoe in 1811 where William H. beat an injun force. Benjamin tried to emulate granddaddy in his campaigns.
The kitchen had an icebox.
The cupboard to the right of the door is a small exercise studio, with portable weights.
The third floor had an exhibit with lots of political campaign material from Harrison and other Indiana politicos. I actually HAVE a Harrison button in my personal collection, but was still drooling over this.
There is also a small exhibit in the barn behind the house. There is a train model here to exemplify Benjamin's use of the train in campaigning. By a cruel twist of fate, the model uses the town of Deming, NM as an example. That's where I got my last speeding ticket. Thank you, Universe. Thank you very much.
Instead, I've found myself in the nice city of Indianapolis where I've had a most interesting visit to the home of one of America's least well known presidents, Benjamin Harrison. He was the grandson of another president, William Henry Harrison, who holds the record for the shortest presidency; a mere 30 days.
Harrison's one term is wedged in between the two separate terms of one of the greatest presidents ever, semi-libertarian Grover Cleveland. In addition, Harrison actually had fewer popular votes than Cleveland, but since he had a majority of the Electoral College, that didn't mean diddly squat, except to those few of us who believe in the old fashioned idea that in a democracy, even a constitutional one, the winner is the one with the most votes. But I digress.
Despite his single term and somewhat feeble electoral record (he also lost a run for the governorship of Indiana a few years before), Harrison is remembered as an honest man, and the campaign of 1888 is widely recognized as one of the more civilized in the 19th century. Harrison was a progressive man in many ways, strongly favoring education as a means of liberation and giving money to educational endowments for black students. He tried (but failed) to pass laws to protect the black vote in the south. He also let both his daughters go to college. In later years he had a falling out with his children from his first marriage, because after his wife died, he went ahead and married her niece, who was over thirty years his junior. The old scoundrel.
All pics here.
The house was built in 1876. Harrison was the first president to electrify the White House and also put electricity AND running water in his own house.
His grandfather's campaign had the slogan "Tippecanoe and Tyler too", after the battle of Tippecanoe in 1811 where William H. beat an injun force. Benjamin tried to emulate granddaddy in his campaigns.
The kitchen had an icebox.
The cupboard to the right of the door is a small exercise studio, with portable weights.
The third floor had an exhibit with lots of political campaign material from Harrison and other Indiana politicos. I actually HAVE a Harrison button in my personal collection, but was still drooling over this.
There is also a small exhibit in the barn behind the house. There is a train model here to exemplify Benjamin's use of the train in campaigning. By a cruel twist of fate, the model uses the town of Deming, NM as an example. That's where I got my last speeding ticket. Thank you, Universe. Thank you very much.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Quote of the Day
Faith is a cop-out. It is intellectual bankruptcy. If the only way you can accept an assertion is by faith, then you are conceding that it can’t be taken on its own merits.
- Dan Barker
- Dan Barker
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Quote of the Day
High heels were invented by a woman who had been kissed on the forehead.
- Christopher Darlington Morley
- Christopher Darlington Morley
The National Churchill Museum in Fulton
While perusing the map Thursday evening, trying to find interesting places along I-70 between Independence and St. Louis, my eyes landed on the town of Fulton, Missouri and I immediately knew I had to go there. Fulton is the small college town where Winston Churchill gave his famous speech on March 5, 1946, wherein he used the term "Iron Curtain" for the first time in public. I discovered to my surprise and joy that they have a whole museum devoted to Churchill there, and furthermore that it was a splendid place.
They have lots of biographical stuff, info related to the war, the speech and its aftermath, plus a small exhibit about America's "Greatest Generation". At 6 bucks I found it a bargain.
All pics here.
The museum lies beneath an English church which was bombed by the Krauts and then rebuilt here in the early sixties.
The actual chair Winston sat in and the actual lectern used during his speech. Be still, my fluttering heart.
Churchill was interested in military stuff from an early age and had a collection of over 1,500 toy soldiers. I am envious.
As with WW1, the US simply produced their way to victory in WW2. Never understimate the power of the American economy when focused on a single task, such as killing Krauts.
From the "Greatest Generation" exhibit.
They have lots of biographical stuff, info related to the war, the speech and its aftermath, plus a small exhibit about America's "Greatest Generation". At 6 bucks I found it a bargain.
All pics here.
The museum lies beneath an English church which was bombed by the Krauts and then rebuilt here in the early sixties.
The actual chair Winston sat in and the actual lectern used during his speech. Be still, my fluttering heart.
Churchill was interested in military stuff from an early age and had a collection of over 1,500 toy soldiers. I am envious.
As with WW1, the US simply produced their way to victory in WW2. Never understimate the power of the American economy when focused on a single task, such as killing Krauts.
From the "Greatest Generation" exhibit.
National Frontier Trails Museum
National Frontier Trails Museum is a museum in Independence devoted to showing the three trails to Santa Fe, California and Oregon that all had their origin in Independence at one time.
They have some stuff on Lewis and Clarke and lots of personal stories from various pioneers, complete with displays and old objects and information on the walls. It's good, but still pales in comparison to the Oregon Trail museum in Baker City and some other things I've seen on this subject. Still, at $6 it's worth your time.
All pics here.
Propaganda painting...
Westward fever indeed...
Map which shows the route of the Lewis & Clarke expedition.
Cozy, cozy Santa Fe.
Wonderful, mighty Scotts Bluff.
They had a small room which lets kids play and solve some dilemmas, but again it pales compared to the Trail museum in Baker City, Oregon.
They have some stuff on Lewis and Clarke and lots of personal stories from various pioneers, complete with displays and old objects and information on the walls. It's good, but still pales in comparison to the Oregon Trail museum in Baker City and some other things I've seen on this subject. Still, at $6 it's worth your time.
All pics here.
Propaganda painting...
Westward fever indeed...
Map which shows the route of the Lewis & Clarke expedition.
Cozy, cozy Santa Fe.
Wonderful, mighty Scotts Bluff.
They had a small room which lets kids play and solve some dilemmas, but again it pales compared to the Trail museum in Baker City, Oregon.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Quote of the Day
When the people are being beaten with a stick, they are not much happier if it is called "the People's Stick."
- Mikhail Bakunin
- Mikhail Bakunin
Independence, Missouri/Missourah
A few pics from Independence, Missouri... or Missourah, if you're a tobacco chewing redneck with an unhealthy relationship to farm animals. The old town part of the city is one of the most cozy places I've seen in fifty states. The city is known as "Queen City of the Trails", since it was considered the starting point for the California, Oregon and Santa Fe trails.
Like so many American cities in the south and midwest, the center is organized around a square with a big ole courthouse in the middle and lots of nice little shops along the surrounding streets. There's a healthy mix of red brick and white wooden buildings and there are several blocks of nice Victorian houses in the immediate vicinity of the town square. If you're ever in these parts, I strongly recommend a visit to Independence.
All pics here (including the rest of the pics from Independence).
The Jackson county courthouse.
Statue of the prez outside the courthouse.
Cozy, cozy.
Clinton's, where Harry Truman had his first job and which is still serving yummy, yummy goodies.
An enormous banana split from Clinton's. I am ashamed to admit that I could not finish it. Could have something to do with the fact that I stuffed face on a huge slice of lemon cake first. And that lemon cake really tasted of lemon. Mmmmm... sweet, sweet lemon.
Like so many American cities in the south and midwest, the center is organized around a square with a big ole courthouse in the middle and lots of nice little shops along the surrounding streets. There's a healthy mix of red brick and white wooden buildings and there are several blocks of nice Victorian houses in the immediate vicinity of the town square. If you're ever in these parts, I strongly recommend a visit to Independence.
All pics here (including the rest of the pics from Independence).
The Jackson county courthouse.
Statue of the prez outside the courthouse.
Cozy, cozy.
Clinton's, where Harry Truman had his first job and which is still serving yummy, yummy goodies.
An enormous banana split from Clinton's. I am ashamed to admit that I could not finish it. Could have something to do with the fact that I stuffed face on a huge slice of lemon cake first. And that lemon cake really tasted of lemon. Mmmmm... sweet, sweet lemon.
The Truman Home
After my little trip into KC I went back to Independence again to see some more Truman-related stuff. This time I went to the Truman home, which is run by the National Parks service (the same people run the Brown vs Board of Education museum in Topeka). As I have the annual interagency pass I get in for sweet, sweet nuffin.
The house itself is a big, Victorian heap of architecture, originally built back in 1867. by the grandfather of Bess Truman, Harry's wife and lifelong love. She lived most of her life there and Harry moved in when they got married. He was away in Washington for much of the periode 1934-52 as first Senator and then Veep and President. After he resigned he hurried on back home to Independence, where he largely remained until his death in 1972.
What the tour of the house does best is to give you a feeling of just how different times were back then, and how very, very different Truman was from later presidents. He was a lower middle class boy from the Midwest, who never thought of himself as anything special and never displayed the huge ego most politicians clearly have these days... He and Bess didn't have much money and little interest in doing what was necessary to raise it after he left office.
Truman had strong ties to Independence and to his family, who were living pretty much on his doorstep. His mother-in-law and her mother lived with them for years, and Bess' two brothers built small houses and raised their families on the property. Additionally, Truman's cousins lived just across the road.
Apart from the bit about being a US Senator and President, this is the American Story as it played out in thousands of homes in thousands of cities and farms across the continent. It's an America that has been fading for years and I wonder what its disappearance has done with US society - for better and for worse.
All pics here.
The ticket center, a few blocks away from the Truman Home.
The home itself. Sadly, and unusually for Federal buildings, you can't take pictures inside the house.
The house of the cousins of Truman.
The house itself is a big, Victorian heap of architecture, originally built back in 1867. by the grandfather of Bess Truman, Harry's wife and lifelong love. She lived most of her life there and Harry moved in when they got married. He was away in Washington for much of the periode 1934-52 as first Senator and then Veep and President. After he resigned he hurried on back home to Independence, where he largely remained until his death in 1972.
What the tour of the house does best is to give you a feeling of just how different times were back then, and how very, very different Truman was from later presidents. He was a lower middle class boy from the Midwest, who never thought of himself as anything special and never displayed the huge ego most politicians clearly have these days... He and Bess didn't have much money and little interest in doing what was necessary to raise it after he left office.
Truman had strong ties to Independence and to his family, who were living pretty much on his doorstep. His mother-in-law and her mother lived with them for years, and Bess' two brothers built small houses and raised their families on the property. Additionally, Truman's cousins lived just across the road.
Apart from the bit about being a US Senator and President, this is the American Story as it played out in thousands of homes in thousands of cities and farms across the continent. It's an America that has been fading for years and I wonder what its disappearance has done with US society - for better and for worse.
All pics here.
The ticket center, a few blocks away from the Truman Home.
The home itself. Sadly, and unusually for Federal buildings, you can't take pictures inside the house.
The house of the cousins of Truman.
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