“Hey! You Got Eyeballs In There?”
Hey! You Got Eyeballs In There?
By Kate Chamberlin
As Grace grows up, some of her stories are happy, some trying, some enlightening, and a few themes are sad, but, they’re all the warp and woof of what goes into the tapestry of life we call Family. The daily living skills and techniques demonstrated by the fictional characters in these stories are valid, tried and true.
Book III: Wife and Mother
#33. The Wedding
#34. The Honeymoon: Lake Pocotopaug
#35. The Honeymoon: Freedom Trail
The Boston Park Plaza Hotel, located on a triangle block instead of a square block, created a puzzle for Crackers. Ken and Grace visited a small ice cream shoppe each afternoon, which was easy for her to find. From there, though, she’d confuse the side door with the main door, but, once in the building, she could get Grace to the bank of elevators.
During breakfast one morning, Ken said, “Let’s take the Freedom Trail this morning.”
“I like to walk, but what is the Freedom Trail?” Grace said.
“Ken, holding a brochure from the hotel’s desk, read, “’…It is a walking tour of special historic sights…’ It looks like we can start anywhere, but we’re near the Boston Commons, so, Let’s start there.”
Later, they stood on a wide, red line painted on the sidewalk. They were to follow it to each site.
“Crackers, forward,” Grace told her guide dog.
It took Crackers about 5 minutes to figure out all she had to do was “walk the red line”! “There’s no way we’re going to be able to visit all 17 of these sites,” Ken said perusing the brochure. “How about starting with Old North Church?”
“Isn’t that the church known for ’one if by land, two if by sea’ in Longfellow’s poem The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere?” Grace asked. “I wonder if they’ll let us climb the steeple.”
“Probably not,” Ken said. Still reading from the brochure, “’…Christ Church in the City of Boston, also known as Old North Church, is the oldest standing church building in Boston, having first opened its doors …in 1723. Its 191 foot steeple is the tallest in Boston …’
“Grace, we’d have to climb a lot of stairs and then a ladder to get up there. The thing has been blown over twice by hurricanes. I doubt we’ll be climbing the steeple today, my Love.”
Once in the quiet wooden pew-box, they sat thinking of the famous and not-so-famous Episcopalians who had Blessed this venerable old church through the American Revolution up to today.
Grace took in the smell of spent insence, melted candle wax, dusty and dried wood. She could imagine how the wet woolen clothing would reak during the winter months, not to mention stuff brought in on their boots from the dirt roadway and horses. She knew Crackers would love it!
As Grace reached for the latch on the small gate at the end of the pew-box, Ken whispered, “Remember, there’s a step down after you get the gate opened.”
“Crackers, forward,” Grace said when they were back on the red line. “We were in the old church quite a while. It was so peaceful and cool. What’s next, Mr. Tour Guide?”
“USS Constitution,” Ken announced and read: ‘…Launched in Boston in 1797, the oldest commissioned warship afloat earned her nickname “Old Ironsides” during the War of 1812 when she fought the British frigate HMS Guerriere…’
“It says here that the copper fastenings were made by Paul Revere.”
The ship wasn’t open for tours by the time they’d walked there, but the interactive USS Constitution Museum was open. They Swung in a hammock, join a mess (meal), and furl a sail, as they learned what it was like to be a crew member of a war ship over 200 years ago.
“Life was hard back in the day,” Grace said lining Crackers up on the red Freedom Trail again. “I suppose they had a cat or two on board, but a dog would never make it through the noise and rough waters.”
“Are you tired or shall we do one more site?” Ken asked.
“I think we have time and energy for one more piece of history,” Grace said.
“Okay, onward to Bunker Hill,” Ken said. “It’s on our way back to the hotel anyway.”
“Okay.” Grace agreed. “Wasn’t it in the battle of Bunker Hill that, “don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes!” was said by Colonel William Prescott?”
“Yes,” Ken said. “’…It came to immortalize the determination of the ill-equipped Colonists. While technically a British victory, the Battle of Bunker Hill proved that Colonial forces could fight effectively against the British…’”
“You’re reading that!” Grace laughed.
“’…The Battle of Bunker Hill on June 17, 1775,” Ken continued reading, “ was the first major battle of the Revolutionary War and predicted the character and outcome of the rest of the war…’”
At the top of the hill, the 221 foot granite obelisk stood across from the BUNKER HILL MUSEUM.
Ken was describing the dioramas and murals in the museum to Grace, when a guard came up to them.
“Do you want to feel a few of the artifacts from the battle itself?” she asked.
One by one, objects were put into Grace’s hands, as the guard described what each was: a pockmarked cannonball; a snare drum; a sword; a stiff masonic apron belonging to revolutionary leader Dr. Joseph Warren, who perished in the fight; and a rusty trowel used by the Marquis de Lafayette in the groundbreaking for the monument in 1875, on the 50th anniversary of the battle.
Grace and Ken thanked her for her kindness and strolled out into the sunshine, hand in hand.
The hotel had a fitness room and spa.
“I think I’ve had enough of a fitness workout today, but I sure could use a soak in a hot tub,” Grace commented.
“Right this way, Ma’am,” Ken said, leading her into the sunken tub in their suite’s spacious bathroom. “It looks like this tub even has jets.”
Wrapped in the thick, plush hotel robes, Ken said, “I’m famished. Let’s order from room service.” So, they did.
After eating their meal and putting the tray out in the hallway, the newlyweds thankfully sank onto the fresh sheets on their soft, king-sized bed.