After this past week, I fear (even more than I did before) for the survival of our democracy. When we allow the president to act outside the law, how can we claim to be a nation of laws. When we actively persecute people who are not “appropriately” straight, adequately white, and the “right” kind of Christian, then how can we claim to be exceptional? When we support (or ignore) an administration that consistently places profit over the health and safety of humanity and they very survival of our planet, how can we claim “greatness.”
I fear.
Thanks to Ronovan Writes for the venue to vent. Our words this week are “sheep” and “weep” for which I substituted ‘cries.’
Looking to escape the worst of a summer that will not end, we decided to head north; hoping that four hours of drive time would translate into at least twice that much in degree difference. Spoiler alert: It didn’t! Hit with a short-span heat wave that coincided directly with our trip, it was sweltering. Ugh.
It also was a holiday Monday and I had mixed feelings about being in St. Augustine on that day. What holiday, you ask? The one that Florida denotes as “Columbus Day” but that I (and many like-minded souls) honor as Indigenous People Day.
The day wasn’t chosen deliberately. Our hotel was unavailable on the day we wanted so we had to push the trip back a day. (Or should that be “push the trip up a day”? I always confuse those two.)
NOT our hotel but oh to have danced back in the day!
Anyway, we left a day later than planned and there we were—landing in St. Augustine on “Columbus Day” surrounded by families with lots of kids “celebrating” the triumph of Columbus’ legacy. For those who may not know, St. Augustine was founded in 1565 by Spanish explorers. It is the oldest continuously inhabited European-established settlement within the borders of the continental United States. (Which is a really benign way to say that the Spanish came, killed, enslaved, and stole from the indigenous peoples with a passion that Columbus, no doubt, would have found inspiring.)
Plus, apparently autumn is NEVER coming to Florida. Did I mention it was HOT!
So long story short(ish), as non-kid-having trying-to-be-culturally-woke folk, we felt a bit out of our element. BUT, we do love museums and (ironically) the ostentatiousness of the Gilded Age, so the Lightner Museum saved the day!
Housed in the former Alcazar Hotel (built in 1888 by super rich guy named Henry Flagler), the museum is home of one of the premier collections of fine and decorative art in the country. Seriously, Lightner collected everything! Between the hotel itself and the collections on display, it really was like stepping through the Looking Glass into a different world.
Through the Looking Glass …“I don’t think — ” “Then you shouldn’t talk.”“Off with their heads!”In a Wonderland they lie, Dreaming as the days go by, Dreaming as the summers die: Ever drifting down the stream — Lingering in the golden gleam — Life, what is it but a dream?How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower!“Curiouser and curiouser!”“We’re all mad here.”“Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!”“Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” (Yes. I was hungry and yes I was thinking about EGGS!)“It takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!”Thus grew the tale of Wonderland: Thus slowly, one by one, Its quaint events were hammered out — And now our tale is done And home we steer, a merry crew, Beneath the setting sun.
Looking at our photos (all made by myself or my husband) and thinking about Cathy’s travel writing suggestions led me to Alice. Thus the Carroll quotes as captions. Hope y’all enjoy!
It had been sixty years since she had stood on that pathway but her mind struggled to contain the same flood of emotions she had felt on that last night. Fear. Shame. Anger. Grief.
Such bottomless grief.
Emotions unleashed unwanted memories They shouldn’t have done it. They had no right. She didn’t belong to them. She couldn’t let them take her away. She had to do it. Even now, she blamed them.
She tried to stop the flood. But memories pushed through.
Hiding.
Desperate whispering: “Hush. Hush.”
Then silence as the light probed.
If only they’d just let them be.
This 100 word piece of fiction was written for this week’s Friday’s Fictioners (hosted as alway by the wonderful Rochelle), but it was inspired by my contribution for last week’s Friday Fictioners. You can read that 15 word story entitled “Her Silent Secret” here. I’ve been thinking about it since I wrote it and when I saw Roger’s photo, the totality of her tragic secret flooded into my head.
Photo credits go to Roger Bultot (for this week’s prompt) and Ronda Del Boccio (for last week’s).
For a closer look at the reality that could have led to this fictionalized tragedy, take a look at The Girls Who Went Away. I am in no way affiliated with this book or its author but it’s a story worth reading if you’re unfamiliar with the all-to-common practice of forcing women to comply with mandated societal “norms.”
Between the sell/buy/move chaos and my current haiku obsession I’ve neglected to share links for some of the stuff I’ve been doing for my day-job. I may go back to some prior months in the days to come, but for today I’m going to stick to this month’s work, which (somewhat ironically) means I’m stepping back in time! I love it when I get to mix my passion for history with my magazine writing.
So … in honor of Women’s History Month I give you a couple of things I wrote that offer some tiny pieces of the grand female mosaic.
First, I take a closer look at one woman that made a BIG difference. Click here to read about Katherine Bell Tippetts
Then I widen my view a bit to look at some of the ways reforming women changed St Petersburg in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. They may look genteel but they refused to be ignored! And remember, although this story about women as a powerful force for change may be specifically about St. Petersburg, it echoes the kinds of things women were doing all across the nation.
Photo: Women’s Town Improvement Association (WTIA) event c. 1910. Courtesy of the St. Petersburg Museum of History.
Tina Stewart Brakebill 