By GEORGE FJELD
Carol and I headed out with Bean in tow to Thomas Jefferson’s home in Monticello, Virginia in late September. After an uneventful drive, we overnighted in a small Pennsylvania town and had dinner in a local Irish Pub where there was an annual Oktoberfest celebration. I was coerced into entering the beer-stein-holding contest. One-liter steins were filled with water, not beer, and had to be held at arm’s length without spilling or lowering the mug till there was only one participant left. The first round was the women and the winner held it up for 2 minutes and 45 seconds. That seemed like a very long time to me. I was in the first elimination round of the men’s group where 6 out of the 12 participants would move on. Imagining that I could get to the second round, I used my weaker shoulder, my right one because of prior injury, in this round. Indeed I was able to best 6 of the other participants and surpass the women’s time, I might add! The final round looked difficult as I was probably 2 decades older than the next younger participant among the 12 at the table. I switched to my left arm and the battle commenced! At the 3-minute mark, 4 participants had already dropped their mugs down to the table, probably because they used the same arm which was suffering from some fatigue after the first round. I might have a chance! At 4 minutes there were 4 left and I could see some shaking in one of them, but the owner of the bar looked formidable. Young and fit from weekly trips to the gym, he was, as I later found out, the 3-time champion in this contest. I made it to over 4.5 minutes before my shaking arm spilled some water. The winner held out over 5 minutes! I happily settled for 3rd place and was awarded one of the steins. Not bad for an old man!
Another travel day got us to a short distance from our goal. But what a day it was. We drove through Pennsylvania, Maryland, and West Virginia to get to Virginia. Meanwhile, a tropical storm was headed in the opposite direction with hard rain and high winds. It was a nerve-wracking drive but thankfully uneventful.
On to Monticello, whose “c” is pronounced “ch,” as in “cello.” All those years, I have been mispronouncing the name. But my what a beautiful place! Atop a hill taking advantage of the summer breeze, the home Jefferson designed and built is truly magnificent. Incorporating elements of southern architecture as well as a decidedly Continental European influence. It is a stately home surrounded by beautiful gardens. Jefferson owned a thousand acres of surrounding farmland which were care for by a total of 604 enslaved people
Carol had arranged for a tour of the building and grounds from the perspective of Sally Heming, an enslaved woman and mother to 6 of Thomas Jefferson’s children. What an eye opener! Sally was 16 years old when she bore her first child with the future President. Jefferson’s first wife, Martha, had died after childbirth. Sally and Martha were ½ sisters as their father, Thomas Jefferson’s father-in-law, had children with both his wife and Sally’s enslaved mother. This was never publicly admitted, however. In fact, it is only in the last few decades that Jefferson’s paternal bonds with the 6 children have been established. We viewed Sally’s room, which was a privileged one, attached to the main house through a tunnel. The tunnel’s main use was bringing food to the Jefferson family, but it was also the access for Sally as Jefferson’s mistress. Thomas and Sally’s children grew up on the plantation and were put to work in the fields and kitchens. 4 of the 6 survived to adulthood. This was a remarkable and eye-opening experience.
Bull and Bean performed admirably, so I’ll let her have a turn:
Wow, leaving Vermont was quick. I didn’t realize I was so close to New York. This was my first experience on an interstate highway and boy did we go fast! Heading south, we encountered many huge trucks that I found very intimidating. But the roads were smooth and the scenery was great. Bull is such a great TV (tow vehicle), he didn’t have any trouble with the hills and high speeds. Even merging onto the big road was no sweat for him. I’m so proud of him!
Then we hit the STORM! The rain came pelting down, the wind blew hard, and I was really scared! I’ve never seen anything like this! But remarkably we weren’t blown off the road even a little bit. And it was kinda nice getting a rinse off! That night was scary with the wind howling and being parked under some big trees. It was really frightening. Luckily, only a few small branches fell on us and we woke to a clear day! Off we went, how I love the open road. A little less so when there are a lot of big trucks around us. They make me feel so small. We’re headed south, I hope there are no more storms!
