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What's Still Great
Driving Across America
The only way to rediscover its beauty and greatness.
To drive across America is to rediscover its beauty and greatness. Anxious to see what I’ve never seen before and to avoid nightmarish air travel, I recently drove 4,500 miles round trip from Washington, D.C. to Bozeman, Montana. The destination was an edifying conference for “religious leaders” on environmental economics, hosted by the Foundation for Research on Economics and the Environment. But the drive, punctuated by an interesting historical, park or museum stop each day, was as uplifting as the terminus.
Thanks to Sirius radio, I was wearyingly informed on every step of my journey about the escalating debt limit crisis. But spectacular scenery and sites forestalled undue pessimism. Not even the endless toll roads of the upper Midwest could depress spirits on such a drive.
First stop was Thomas Edison’s birthplace home in charming Milan, Ohio. Built by Edison’s Canadian immigrant father over 150 years ago, the brick cottage was conveyed as is by Edison’s sister to the museum. The furniture is original, in as the family Bible listing Edison’s birth. Inventor of the light bulb, phonograph and motion pictures, Edison helped birth modernity and presided over perhaps America’s most transformative age. The surrounding neighborhood is preserved partly as Edison as a boy would have seen it, thanks to protective museum docents. Enjoyably, even the nearby Methodist church is named for Edison, who is a patron saint of technology.
Next stop was Frank Lloyd Wright’s magnificent Taliesin estate in the rolling dairy country of Wisconsin. Sprawlingly perched against a hilltop, the home was a fitting stage for America’s best known if not greatest architect. Built on the land of his Welsh ancestors, the house’s history was as dramatic as its builder’s. Lloyd designed it after leaving his first wife, and there installed his mistress and her children. In Wright’s absence, a deranged servant axe murdered them and several others in 1914 while also burning the house.
Robustly buoyant after calamity, Wright found future consorts, and also rebuilt the house again after suffering a second, accidental fire. His final wife managed the house after Wright’s 1959 death. She also invited Joseph Stalin’s refugee daughter to live there, convinced Svetlana Stalin was the partial reincarnation of her own deceased daughter, also named Svetlana. And Mrs. Wright successfully orchestrated her widower son-in-law’s marriage to the new Svetlana. Frank Lloyd Wright’s personal life was as messy as his genius was grand, and he was unpopular in this region for routinely ignoring his debts. But Taliesin, which now houses architectural students, is a fitting monument to his better side.
Hormel’s Spam Museum in Austin, Minnesota, was my next stop. Smoothly crafted from a seemingly unlimited budget, the splashy museum fulsomely chronicles the history of the meatpacking Hormel Family as well as the famously canned hybrid meat most popularized during World War II. A letter from a post-presidential Dwight Eisenhower to Hormel recalls Ike’s own wartime Spam diet, which he confessed did not always elicit kind thoughts at the time. The museum includes an unashamedly promotional film full of advertising jingoes that might even provoke reluctant smiles from a grim, anti-capitalist.
After a brief viewing of the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota, where it was over 100 degrees, as well as a failed attempt to see the Senator George McGovern Museum at Dakota Wesleyan University, I arrived at Mount Rushmore right before its 10pm closing. The viewing area was almost empty, there were no signs of Eva Marie Saint or Cary Grant (whose North by Northwest Alfred Hitchcock film dramatically concluded there), and a friend by text warned me to leave if the illuminated giant presidential faces began to speak. Fortunately, they remained stoically silent, and I was able to absorb the spectacle in silence.
Next morning I got off course and, in a wonderful accident, found Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. It’s a giant volcanic neck supposedly popular with extraterrestrials, at least according to Hollywood. Walt Disney’s 1970’s Escape to Witch Mountain about child aliens was filmed there, as was more famously Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” in which Richard Dreyfuss manically kept constructing versions of the mountain tower out of mud or mashed potatoes, until he found the real place, along with an alien mother ship.
Late in the day I arrived at the Little Big Horn, whose rolling grassy hills are eerily beautiful. And they are still preserved much as General George Armstrong Custer and his doomed cavalry command would have remembered. There are stone markers where each of the slain cavalrymen’s corpses was discovered. Later they were reburied at an adjoining national veterans’ cemetery. Part of the battlefield is still privately owned, on which I encountered two friendly mounted tribesmen. Sadly, a shabby casino is right outside the park.
I arrived in Bozeman, Montana, at 3am, naturally in the dark, unprepared for the stunning landscape unveiled next morning outside the 1920’sera hotel, built by the railroads to service Yellowstone National Park. A local informed me that Ted Turner, whose ranch is nearby, does not much impress Bozeman. One restaurant declined to allow him to skip ahead of a line. And another restaurateur, a Vietnam War veteran, reputedly asked Turner and then wife Jane Fonda to leave. Presumably fellow nearby rancher Oprah Winfrey has fewer confrontations.
Yellowstone National Park presents one incredible vista after another, climaxing with geysers and lakes of boiling mud, along with an occasional elk visit. I did a 5 mile hike, anxiously mindful of an unfortunate tourist killed by a protective momma grizzly just weeks before. Old Faithful delivered its water spout on schedule. Grand Teton National Park, the next visit, was equally amazing. Its snow-topped mountains are recognizable as the backdrop of the classic 1953 western Shane with Alan Ladd. On Sunday I worshipped at famous 1920s Episcopal log Chapel of the Transfiguration, in which a picture glass window behind the altar showcases the mountains. Benches outside the chapel windows accommodate an overflow crowd. A tourist bus oddly appeared just as we walked forward for communion, and the tourists unthinkingly joined the line while taking pictures, seemingly unaware they were at an active church.
Endless wide open country across Wyoming finally emptied me into Colorado and a brief visit to lively Denver, where there are endless options for outdoor dining in the lively downtown even late on a weeknight. After hours of driving across flat country, my next stop was the Eisenhower Library and Museum in Abilene, Kansas. Ike’s modest but ample boyhood home is carefully preserved. The accompanying museum superbly includes his World War II Cadillac painted camouflage. His driver was British military chauffeur and alleged wartime mistress Kay Summersby. A 1979 video of presidential widow Mamie Eisenhower is showcased, with an irritating Barbara Walters pressing Mamie whether she was “wooried” about their marriage during the war. Taking the unsubtle hint, Mamie adamantly rejected any such notion.
More driving across Kansas landed me in Lawrence, founded by abolitionist New Englanders in the 1850s to preserve Kansas from slavery. Quaintrill’s Raiders’ infamously attacked the town in 1863, massacring about 200 men. Many buildings burned, but a few still survive. Nearby is Lecompton, Kansas, early capital of Kansas Territory. The original building where the infamous Lecompton Constitution was born is now a museum. Pledging Kansas to slavery, that constitution was a main topic in the Lincoln-Douglas debates and helped elect Lincoln eventually as president. I sped over night through St. Louis, passing the illuminated great Arch, and arriving at New Harmony, Indiana. Founding the village in the early 19th century, the Harmonites were a German pietist sect who were celibate and channeled their energy into thrifty industry and charming architecture, much of which remains as a historical park, lodging and a very pleasant restaurant.
Speeding through Kentucky next, I visited majestic White Hall outside Lexington, the home of abolitionist statesman Cassius Marcellus Clay, cousin to Henry Clay and friend to Abraham Lincoln, whom he served as Ambassador to Russia during the Civil War. Blustery and courageous, his anti-slavery views in a slave state kept him in perpetual combat. As an octogenarian he married a 15 year old girl; the marriage was short lived. His estate, perhaps the first in Kentucky with an indoor toilet, is magnificent.
That evening I dined in an over 200-year-old log cabin in Lewisburg, West Virginia, a very pretty historic town, once subject to Indian attacks, near the famous Greenbrier Resort. There were no hotel rooms for 50 miles, thanks to the ongoing golf Greenbrier Classic. I spent my last night on the road at even more historic Lexington, Virginia, home to Virginia Military Institute and Washington-Lee University. Anxious for home after 2 weeks, I only briefly stopped for road signs about Shenandoah Valley Civil War campaigns.
Upon my return, the debt ceiling crisis was still unresolved. Despite the nation’s economic ills, everywhere I visited along 4,500 miles, hotels, parks and restaurants were packed with rambunctious travelers. America’s beauty, incomparable history, and still underlying tremendous prosperity were all constantly on dramatic display. It was a restorative for the soul. And it was a reminder that our country has across 3 centuries survived far worse than today’s enormities and yet still thrived. Let’s hope that several more centuries hence, future cross-country drivers can still say the same.
About the Author
Mark Tooley is president of the Institute on Religion and Democracy in Washington, D.C. and author of Methodism and Politics in the Twentieth Century. You can follow him on Twitter @markdtooley.
Letter to the Editor View all comments (40) | Leave a comment
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Ken (Old Texican)| 8.16.11 @ 6:21AM
Mark,
not to be hoity toity, but another wonderful way to tour the country is in a Piper Cub at low altitude; say about 2,000 to 4,000 feet above the terrain.
You can land and visit hysterical markers (sic) that are of interest too.
The problem with major hiways is that they were laid out in the most boring routes ...on purpose...safe and direct...with the flattest terrain.
Often just a couple of miles away from those highways are some of the most beautiful landscapes in America.
Dan Hirsch| 8.16.11 @ 9:35AM
Another way is by bicycle - there are tours that do all the arranging and schlepping for you. If you have the time, the bicycle presents the countryside in perfect time, not so slow as to bore (except uphill, mebbe...) but fast enough to keep it interesting. And your doctor will be impressed at your healthy state...
Pelligrino| 8.16.11 @ 2:35PM
I heard recently of a group of enthused 50 and 60 year olds who biked across the nation, east coast to west coast. Apparently all went very well. They all made it, pedalling the whole way.
Only snag was for one rabbi in the final stop of San Francisco -- about 3 weeks ago. To celebrate he entered a coffee shop to get a big cup, having, of course, first locked up his bike directly outside the shop.
Not 12 minutes inside, the rabbi's bike was gone, stolen. Broad daylight.
Tiddly| 8.16.11 @ 12:31PM
One of my best memories is of touring the Midwest with my dad in our 1950 Piper Super Cub. Only from above, at low altitude, does everything come together. We'd land for hamburgers at little airports where, if we wanted to go to town, there was always a clunker available for free from the airport manager.
Dad is gone but I still have the Cub. If I can get new skin on her, I'll tour the Midwest with my teenage daughter.
Alert1201| 8.16.11 @ 7:43AM
Great article. My family and I are taking a month off and traveling from Dallas to New England. We are going through the Shenandoah Valley, the Smoky Mountains to Eastern PA to visit my Grandmother., from there to the Finger Lakes of New York to visit my cousin and his dairy farm and from there to southeastern CT to spend few weeks with my parents where we will take a two or three day trip to Cape Cod. This will be the third time we have made the trip in the last 10 years. We would never consider flying. We even plan on doing some “shunpiking” on the back roads to take in more of the sights.
Intelligent Design| 8.16.11 @ 8:11AM
Driving across America is a nice idea, if you have a cast iron ass and don't mind losing all circulation of blood in your legs. Avoid driving in places like Boston with its ugly highways, designed no doubt by Tip O'Neil and Ted Kennedy while drinking boiler makers.
maximumrandb| 8.16.11 @ 9:35AM
Avoid driving in any major city, if you value your sanity.
emo| 8.16.11 @ 8:14AM
Good article. In June-July I drove over 9000 miles from Atlanta-Spokane-Kittery,ME and back to Atlanta. It is indeed a great way to see America.
donserge| 8.16.11 @ 8:34AM
The premise has great merits however with gasoline priced over twice as much as it should and could be, my limited income makes trips towing my camper much more localized.
Toll roads (double taxation) should be outlawed!
wodiej| 8.16.11 @ 8:37AM
Sounds like you had a great time. Wonderful reminder of the beauty of this country if a person has the time and money to go.
Garnett| 8.16.11 @ 9:18AM
Often just a couple of miles away from those highways are some of the most beautiful landscapes in America.
http://www.summer-products.com
http://www.ainibag.com
Garnett| 8.16.11 @ 9:19AM
We even plan on doing some “shunpiking” on the back roads to take in more of the sights.
http://www.jerseys-hats-store.com
http://www.honey-gifts.com
Audace| 8.16.11 @ 9:26AM
Mr. Tooley, I wish I could say the same about my "Across America" drive a bit earlier this summer.
You went west; I chose to go south, south along the length of the Atlantic Coast.
There were good moments but nothing to report until I reached Norfolk, Virginia one early morning. I had driven through the night in hopes of seeing a sunrise at or near the First Landing site (now the U.S. Army's Fort Story). I was a bit fatigued as I finished the last stretch of highway 64 just after the tunnel underneath the water. I pulled off the highway, and used what my GPS said is a local park. There I intended to stop, stretch, clear my head, and orient for the final 8 miles to the First Landing site and its famous lighthouses.
I pulled into the parking lot of what is called Ocean Drive Park, a simple city park at about 4:30 a.m.
That is when the overall bliss and uneventfulness of my journey to that point came to a screeching, shattering halt.
Although I thought I was alone in the parking lot (a lot of about 200 or so spaces), two sets of headlights came roaring at me with suprisingly high speed for such a small lot -- just seconds after I'd switched off the ignition.
I had barely stepped out of my seat to stretch as what then appeared as police cruisers screeched to a halt just yards from the front end of my car.
I guess I now know what is like to be on the end of an ambush or assault. No, I was not beaten, but it seemed at various moments in the next 50 minutes to come within inches of this. (The two initial policemen who popped out of these police cruisers seemed ever so itching to do so. They wanted to get physical.)
Immediately very rapid and gruff loud questions came my way. My attempts at quiet, calming answers interrupted each time by their next loud accusations.
Except for the sports stadium like quality of their squad car roof mounted lights shining on me like a perp against a wall, it was dark, quiet, and there did not seem to be a soul anywhere about.
I could not for the life of me figure out the nervousness, haste, and undue intensity of these two male policemen who appeared to be in their early 30's.
Rapid demands started coming my way....Driver's ID, purpose of travel, destinations, why I wasn't in a hotel, why did I park, why was I there, job occupation, where I'd be staying in the future, and the demand to search my car.
There seemed nothing I could do or say to assert my innocence as a traveller a bit ahead of schedule hoping to just stop, stretch, whiff some morning air, and reorient prior to making the final leg.
Nothing.
Even once they'd perfectly IDed me via all the various radio and electronic gear in the cockpits of their cruisers, talking back and forth with precinct HQ, their suspicions did not fade.
In fact, over the radio I was several times referred to as a "Suspicious character."
I thought surely they'd calm down completely once they were certain of my identity, hometown, car registration, car ownership, etc.
No, this was never the case. There was never a calming.
I was asked several times if I had weaponry in my vehicle. I assured them I did not. But that same question would arise again 4 or 5 minutes later.
What do I surmise out of all of that: Immature police, way too high strung. Looking for action? Wanting action? What was absurd to me: They were unable to discern a sensible, friendly, bumbling traveller from a real perpetrator of some kind of vile behavior.
At one point when these two officers seemed flumuxed and deflated that I was not the East Coast's #4 narcotics kingpin or blackmarket chieftan, I asked to learn their names (names were nowhere to be seen on their uniforms).
Big mistake! No -- huge mistake.
It almost all began again. One officer almost shouted, "Okay, bucko, I'll not only give you my name, I'll call my supervisor over here and he'll give you his name as well." Sure enough, he radioed for backup and his supervisor to drive over.
So at one point, there I stood in gym shorts, T-shirt, and sandals in a very gravely empty parking lot in front of 7 different policemen -- each arriving in a different police vehicle (and they all got there very fast), all of them with blinding blue lights swirling on top. An iritated early riser in a posh looking nearby condo probably thought the police really had nabbed a kingpin.
I'll save other details that irritate me to no end. Please understand that I really did think I had stepped into a USSR or Eastern Europe scene of old -- aka a Police State.
When I took my time to read my copy of the poorly written summons I was given, when I tried to ask questions about what it all meant, and, thus, as it appeared to the three police surrounding me that I was hesitating to willingly sign the summons (I was/I was completely baffled -- I've never had any interactions of this kind or with such a document), I was told essentially, "Sign it now! If you don't now, right now, we're cuffing you, taking you in, towing and impounding your vehicle."
This threat from three different policemen was interjected about 3 times in the last 20 minutes of the overall encounter.
That felt completely like what it is to live in a totalitarian state.
They were itching for me to cross some line -- some line of their own choosing -- so they could really take me down.
I would like to say that I was perfectly calm and cool. I was not, on the inside.
Angry that they could not "manufacture?" some far greater legal offense against me, it was finally determined that:
My grave offense? Tresspassing in a city park.
I returned later to this scene -- much later in the day. There is no signage in this small, a bit rundown, city park to indicate anything about "tresspassing." And to a visitor, the parking lot directly beside the road just looks like an empty old parking lot.
So I have a mandatory summons for a court date, as it appears that tresspassing in a city park requires this. Even if I wanted to pay a fine for my "grave trespasss," (I do not) this is not permitted. I must show up in -- get this -- Norfolk Criminal Court. If found guilty I am told I could get fines (as yet unspecified) and up to one year in jail.
So that was my road trip USA experience just a little over one month ago. I am glad that yours, Mr. Tooley, sounds much better.
I am sorry to burden American Spectator readers with this sorry tale. But it is true. This is also America. A very sorry, very concerning America.
Petronius| 8.16.11 @ 10:47AM
You probably ran into the Jr. High Hall Monitor of the Year 1993. Authoritarian wannabes cannot wait to become cops and push people around.
Paul McGrath| 8.16.11 @ 10:58AM
Yeah, this kind of stuff happens. Sorry it happened to you. I hope justice is done when you finally appear in front of a judge in Norfolk.
Paul McGrath| 8.16.11 @ 11:03AM
By the way, your essay was as engrossing as anything on the main web-site today. No need to apologize.
Audace| 8.16.11 @ 11:27AM
Mr. McGrath and Petronius, thank you for reading it through. I know that I got too long-winded.
It is all true (and then some).
No motorist or visitor to that little parking lot could know that this was "tresspassing." No one. I am sure that nearby residents are unaware of the consequences I faced or that they might face.
When I tried several times to honestly apologize for my "error" of entering the parking lot, asking to just re-enter my vehicle and drive on my way, I got:
1. "Ignorance of the law is no excuse for violating the law!!!" almost shoved down my throat 5 different times/ways.
2. I was told to not go anywhere near my car (all car doors were closed). One time, as I asked to just be permitted to leave and leaned slightly to the side, one officer's hand immediately went to his holstered pistol. It was almost the same when I started to move to obtain my requested driver's license.
Yes, they were -- at times -- almost egging me on to do something that would force their hand, force them, require them to take me down, have me on the pavement, cuff me and then whatever happens thereafter. This is what the first two officers truly seemed longing to do.
It was terribly bizarre. And, yes, scary. I was shaking on the inside and trying to keep a clear head.
This was something out of the German Democratic Republic (GDR or DDR).
I write this because this is something that just shouldn't have happened in America, in this kind of setting. Paricularly once they knew 100% who I am, car ownership, home state, vistor/tourist, etc.
WeR1| 8.16.11 @ 1:05PM
You will receive several offers from Norfolk lawyers to "make the whole thing go away", for about $1000. They assume someone from out-of-state would be unwilling to make the court date.
Ed| 8.17.11 @ 1:09PM
Audace -- I am sorry this happened to you as well. Some P.D.'s have a paramilitary-SWAT mentality, and that was what you ran into. I suspect that Norfolk VA has a lot of problems with police-civilian relations.
My family drove through the DDR from Berlin to West Germany along the Baltic coast in the 70's and we were detained for an hour by the Volkspolizi for having "papers that were not in order" (I kid you not). Even so, the Vopos were more polite than the crew you ran into.
DONBALTIMORE| 8.17.11 @ 5:50PM
Audace, please let all of us know what happens as this proceeds down the Halls of Justice. The Norfolk/Va.Beach area probably has a lot of ex-military serving in their Police units.
John Harvey| 8.18.11 @ 2:54PM
Now you know why those of in the US Navy refered to Norfolk as Excrement City, only we didn't use that many letters.
MATT M.| 8.16.11 @ 9:44AM
For the real thing do it on a Harley.
Conserdude| 8.16.11 @ 10:04AM
Mr. Tooley,
The Corn Palace is in Mitchell, SOUTH Dakota, not North Dakota.
Candy| 8.16.11 @ 10:09AM
The Corn Palace is is Mitchell, South Dakota not North Dakota.
DWH| 8.16.11 @ 11:31AM
Mark,
You mentioned some of the grand sites that you visited. But did you really experience the true greatness of the United States?
Real people were there; Working their Jobs, Playing their Games, Living their Lives. It is the the unencumbered and complete honesty of these same people pursuing their own interests without trampling on the interests of others that makes this country great. And much, much more often than not, their interest includes the lending of an unselfish hand to their fellow beings. Because, apparently, it is good for their souls.
In stark contrast to this wholesome goodness, there is the continuous stream of uncaring noise emanating from Washington DC & other cities via the newspapers, TV & radio that devalues this country's greatness. This drags down the entire country.
Perhaps, if you had rolled down the windows, turned off your Sirius Radio and smelled nature's lusciousness, your trip would have been even more enjoyable.
ray| 8.16.11 @ 11:32AM
The corn palace, and Mitchell, is in South Dakota, not North Dakota.
Big Leo| 8.16.11 @ 11:51AM
I've crossed from sea to sea by car or motorcycle eight times now. Once, I had AAA make a triptych to link together about two hundred famous and obscure sites without putting me on a four lane highway. They said it was the most fun they ever had putting a triptych together, and it weighed a couple of pounds. Fourteen thousand miles of meeting the most interesting people in the world-- ordinary Americans.
Bill S| 8.16.11 @ 11:59AM
America is no longer a great country. We've become an increasingly evil country by any way you would measure it: crime, illegitimacy, and an increasing hatred for God.
Sotto Voce| 8.16.11 @ 12:10PM
I wonder if Obama is having similar fond thoughts about our magnificent country as his million dollar tour bus makes it way through the Midwest. I somehow doubt it.
Pavel| 8.16.11 @ 1:28PM
I took a trip from the East Cost to Wisconsin just a few weeks ago. Surprisingly, there's only one route from Indiana to Wisconsin and it goes thru downtown Chicago. One has to visit Chicago once to understand everything there is about Obama and his Chicago gang. Half of the lines are closed for reconstruction and the rests are a worst nightmare for a driver. It takes more than 2 hours to pass downtown Chicago (four terrible miles). There's no signs of any activity on the closed lines, I gather all the money spent on the huge, enormous portrait of the new Chicago chieftain Ram Emmanuel, who "welcomes you to Chicago". I spent a few days in Chicago suburbs. All traffic control is concentrated in Chicago, so after a storm, when power was knocked off, all the suburbs had their traffic lights off for three days. The whole area was paralyzed. That's socialist central planning for you folks. I know when I see USSR, and Chicago is already there with the rest of the country fast approaching a point of no return.
J.C.Eaton| 8.17.11 @ 12:58AM
Yes, my friend....all true. But once you crossed into Wisconsin you could feel the radiance of the Almighty. Eh, what!
John Harvey| 8.18.11 @ 2:58PM
You do not have to go through Chicago to access Wisconsin. Even if you are on 80 or 94, duck south on Ind 121, a thoroughly delightful 2 lane road, pick up Ind 10, going west and follow the trucks to I-57 at Kankakee, Ill, then go north on 57 to I-80, south of Chicago, or take US 30 before you get that far north. Go over to I-39, and go north on that. It takes you through Rockford, Ill, and into Wisconsin at Beloit.
tnxplant| 8.16.11 @ 8:32PM
In the summer of 1960 our family traveled in an unairconditioned station wagon from Georgia to Oregon. We picked up Route 66 in Oklahoma and took it to LA before heading north to Oregon.
It was a unique childhood experience, full of wonderful memories and stories along the way. I am grateful that my parents thought it a worthy adventure. It could not be reproduced today.
W| 8.16.11 @ 10:10PM
Mr. Tooley
Have you visited Fallingwater, the house in Pa that Frank Lloyd Wright designed cantilevered over a stream, and Edison's house, that he designed, in Fort Myers, Florida? Your opinion.
POST American| 8.16.11 @ 11:40PM
---'70's Show' Tavistock 'CALM---place---n'---see'
--ALERT!--
MEANWHILE, we're still awaiting the FIRST
article to treat our awesomely consolidating,
4 decades in the works, CFR/RIIA Bush/
Rock--F--L--O RED China sellout, set up and TREASON OP.
--------------------COME ON A.S.!
----------------------------------YOU CAN DO IT!
Paul McGrath| 8.16.11 @ 11:53PM
Thank you Post American. You know, when I came home from work today, I didn't quite feel right. After thinking about it, I realized that my rear-end felt, well, greasy. I went to the bathroom and sat on the toilet and wiped my rear-end with some toilet paper, and I suddenly felt much better.
I look forward to your next post.
Dawson| 8.17.11 @ 10:18AM
Nice story---except for the urban legend about Ted Turner being kicked out of Montana restaurants:
http://www.snopes.com/movies/actors/fonda.asp
phil| 8.18.11 @ 5:44PM
Last winter my wife and I travelled from our home in Virginia, south to NC
vicki| 8.22.11 @ 6:32PM
Great article, written with the typical Tooley wit and charm.
fred| 9.12.11 @ 5:28AM
All of the places you visited
were built by whites.
The demography of the country has changed.
All people may be of equal human worth.
But equality of result, hasnt occured.
As the racial composition of the country changes, it will be up to non-whites to achieve equally.
But if for whatever reason, they don't, then the country won't be as good.
Not because i or anyone else dislikes any other race,
but simply because, different races have historically achieved at different rates.
So, America, beyond simply being a place with great National Parks and natural beauty, is also, a legacy of the achievements of whites who as recently as 1964 were 90% of the country.