Names like Charles Lindbergh and Amelia Earhart might ring a bell as famous pilots, but what did they actually do? Interestingly, both Charles Lindberg and Amelia Earhart were known for disappearances; Charles Lindberg notably for the disappearance of his baby, which incidentally initiated the career of J. Edgar Hoover (This case remains unsolved). Whereas Amelia Earhart disappeared, presumably over the Pacific, without a trace. However, before the disappearances, both Earhart and Lindberg were known for their flying.
World War One was historical for a great deal of reasons, one was that it was the first war to use airplanes for battle. This relatively new invention took to the sky and proved that this invention was useful and here to stay. A year after the War a French born, American citizen named Raymond Orteig wanted to spark a new idea for the plane. Namely, can an airplane cross the Atlantic Ocean. Orteig a self made man who owned a few Hotels in the Big Apple decided to create a competition, the individual to get from New York to Paris or vice versa would win $25,000. By 1927, this competition claimed the lives of four hopeful aviators who dreamed of being the first. Also another few went missing or were injured, but that did not deter others from trying.
Photo of the St. Louis from the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum
A young man named Charles Lindbergh decided to give it a shot on May 20, 1927 with his plane “The Spirit of St. Louis”. He traveled very light only taking five sandwiches for food and no co-pilot. Taking off from New York with no coffee and very little sleep, the world waited to see if he would make it to Paris. Thirty-three and a half hours later Lindbergh landed in Paris, changing the possibilities of what humans believed could be done in an airplane. Next, it was the women’s chance to prove they could fly as well as the men.
Amelia Earhart on May 20, 1932 took to the skies, flying out of Newfoundland, Canada. Although she planned on flying to Paris just like Lindbergh, the weather had different plans for her. After almost 15 hours of flying she landed in Londonderry, Ireland, becoming the first women and the second person to fly nonstop solo from North America to Europe. Both flights landed their pilots, Lindbergh and Earhart, into Aviation History and changed the future of flying.
Photo of Amelia Earhart from the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum
Tragically a few months before Amelia Earhart took off on her flight the Lindbergh’s son Charles Jr. was kidnapped on March 1, 1932. His body was recovered, but the perpetrators were never caught. While Amelia Earhart disappeared on June of 1937 attempting to circumnavigate the world with her co-pilot Fred Noonan.
For more information check out these sights or books:
Welcome to Arizona, where you can travel to Nowhere, Nothing, Why, Tombstone, Bagdad, and Peeples Valley (I am probably missing a few). Once you get to this tiny town, you most likely would not know you are there, since the town sign is nowhere to be found. According to the Bartender, the sign was stolen so many times, that the state of Arizona has stopped replacing the sign. So the key to knowing you are in Nowhere is when you are North of the sign that says Wilhoit and South of the large tree about 1/8 of a mile away from the cattleguard/Wilhoit sign. This tiny town has a bar and behind it, a trailer park where all twelve residents reside.
This tiny town, however, has a fascinating history connected to its bar; it is part of a drinking society called the Clampers. The bartender informed us that back in the days of the wild west many miners were too rowdy to go to a typical western bar (since the wild west was so tame), so they created their own. This society started in California in 1849 during the Gold Rush and spread to Arizona, Nevada, and a few other states. The brotherhood was known for their wild and mischievous ways, to distinguish themselves from everyone else their uniform was red long johns with tin badges strapped to them; this was a joke on other societies who took pride in their uniforms. By day many of these men had respectable jobs, and at night they joined their brotherhood for drinks. The group would not be complete without a motto, so they settled on Credo Quia Absurdium (“I believe because it is absurd”) and that summed the group up. Today the society is still active in multiple states and many bars, including the one in Nowhere.
On the road to Nowhere (Literally an Arizona town), from Phoenix, you pass through a little town called Yarnell. This small Arizona town made the big screens because of a tragedy that shook the town. In 2013, a massive fire devastated this community and claimed the lives of 19 firefighters from the City of Prescott, and this team was better known as the Granite Mountain Hotshots. Their story was brought to life in 2017 with the movie, Only the Brave, as of recently a memorial was assembled in the sport where they perished, it is about a seven-mile round trip hike. When you reach the town of Yarnell, it is evident that the town is still recovering, you are greeted by a sign that says Yarnell; will rebuild better, stronger. In the communities, there are still construction crews rebuilding and fixing homes from the fire six years before.
This communities history did not start with the Hotshots; however, if you continue through town, you may come across a statue of Jesus sitting at a table under a tree. In 1934, a group of people got together and assembled The Shrine of St. Joseph of the Mountain, and it is a statue garden that portrays the story of Jesus journey to the Cross and the Empty Tomb. The Shrine, however, did not open until 1939 with one statue, later more figures were added to tell the final moments of Jesus. A World War I vet named Felix Lucerothe designed the sculptures finishing in 1949; however, he never got to see the final product. It is a peaceful short hike that uniquely shows this story with scripture by every new sculpture. This hidden gem of Yarnell is cared for entirely by volunteers and has been fixed up from the damages of the fire.
Meet Emily, one of the most genuine people you will ever meet. She is getting ready to enter the History Master’s program at Liberty University, where she will specialize in the Gilded Age and Progressive Era.
Though you may not know John Trumbull himself, you may recognize his paintings. Trumbull found fame through his sweeping Revolutionary War scenes, portraits of some of America’s founding-era heroes, and a series of murals in the US Capitol Building’s rotunda. He was a celebrated who enjoyed international renown. However, he got his start in a tiny New England farming town once described in colorful terms by a French commander visiting during the Revolutionary War; The duc de Lauzun, remarked, “Siberia alone can furnish any idea of Lebanon, which consists of a few huts scattered among vast forests.”[1]
Declaration of Independence (1819), John Trumbull
Lebanon, Connecticut, my hometown, boasts a wealth of history, particularly throughout the Revolutionary War period. Jonathan Trumbull, John’s father, served as Connecticut’s governor from 1769-1784, during which he not only “redefined the role of governor from mostly a powerless figurehead to a mastermind in the logistics of running the state,” but proved instrumental in gathering much-needed provisions for the Continental Army during the war.[2] Governor Trumbull’s efforts lend themselves to Connecticut’s wartime nickname “the Provisions State,” and General George Washington affectionately referred to the governor as “Brother Jonathan.”[3]
Jonathan Trumbull House, Lebanon, CT, the birthplace of John Trumbull
John Trumbull was born on June 6, 1756, the youngest of six children, in his father’s home, which is still open to visitors on the Lebanon Green, a mile-long parcel of land in the center of town that remains significant in community life. Though plagued by a series of health scares early in his life, including an accident that left him blind in one eye, John was a remarkably bright child—he reflected in his autobiography that he could read Greek by age six—and attended Harvard as a young man.[4] However, his true passion lay in art. Following service with the Connecticut First Regiment—during which he briefly served as Washington’s aide-de-camp— Trumbull studied in London under the English painter Benjamin West, whom he had met through Dr. Benjamin Franklin.[5] Not long after meeting his young pupil, West remarked, “Mr. Trumbull, I have now no hesitation to say that nature intended you for a painter. You possess the essential qualities; nothing more is necessary, but careful and assiduous cultivation.”[6]
Surrender of Lord Cornwallis (1820), John Trumbull
Throughout the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Trumbull and, later, his wife, Sarah Hope Harvey, moved between America and England. Trumbull continued to create works of art and meet some of America’s most famous individuals of the Founding Era, including John Jay, Alexander Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, and Aaron Burr. He also left his mark on his hometown by designing a new Congregational meetinghouse, today the First Congregational Church at the tip of the town green. Much of the church was destroyed in the devastating Hurricane of 1938 but was rebuilt to Trumbull’s specifications. I remember school field trips in elementary and middle school, during which we visited the church and sat in the box-like pews, gaping at the towering windows and high, blue ceiling. In this way, Trumbull’s work remains not only visible, but central to the town of Lebanon.
Alexander Hamilton (1806), John Trumbull
Following the War of 1812, Trumbull and his wife returned once again to America and settled in New York, where he had lived periodically throughout the height of his career. He was elected president of the American Academy of Fine Art in 1824, signifying the height of his influence in the art community.
A 1790 subscription proposal raising support for the reproduction of two of Trumbull’s earlier works outlines his overarching goals. A portion of the proposal reads,
“No period
of history of man […] is more interesting than that in which we have lived. The memory of scenes in which were
laid the foundations of that free government,
which secures our national and individual happiness, must remain ever dear to us and to our posterity […]
To assist in preserving the memory of the illustrious
events which have marked this period of our country’s glory, as well as of the men who have been the most important
actors in them, is the object of this undertaking.”[7]
Lebanon, with its rolling farmland, rambling stonewalls, and colonial architecture, remains a charming New England town filled with fascinating history. I am so blessed to have had many wonderful memories within this community. I spent roughly twelve years of my life in Lebanon before relocating to a new state with my family in 2014. Last summer, I made it back for the first time since our move. I drove along the town green—remembering antique shows and ice skating when I was a kid—past the Jonathan Trumbull Library—where I volunteered in middle school and found a lifelong love of reading—and past the First Congregational Church, where my sisters and I served spaghetti dinners and strawberry shortcake to other members of the community. I thought about the Lebanon natives throughout history who went out to make their marks around the world. Similarly, the fact that a man whose artistic talent continues to deeply inform Americans’ perception of the Revolutionary War got his start in my hometown is incredibly exciting! John Trumbull’s work remains recognizable, even if his name has been forgotten. In Lebanon, Connecticut—both his hometown and mine—his legacy remains preserved.
The Lebanon Green. The red building in the distance is the War Office, which was Jonathan Trumbull’s store and an important local government meeting place during the Revolutionary War The Lebanon Green with a view of the First Congregational Church to the right
If I had to choose one of my favorite small towns in Virginia, Staunton would be up there. So when Paul told me he thought this was a neat idea, I was excited that he wanted to participate and talk about his hometown. He told me that he hoped to be an ambassador for his town. Paul is currently getting his Ph.D. in Military History from the University of North Texas.
My hometown is Staunton, a small city, with a population a little under 25,000, in the middle of the scenic Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. For those that do not know, the Shenandoah Valley is in the western, more Appalachian, part of the state and lies comfortably between two separate lines of north/south running mountains: the Alleghanies to the West and the Blue Ridge to the East. Few people outside of the state of Virginia have heard of the city of Staunton, and fewer people still (in or out of the state) manage to pronounce it correctly; pronounced STAN-ton, locals can quickly smell a newbie whenever the city’s name is pronounced – as proper English grammar would suggest – without the “u” silent. Despite being relatively obscure, and making no real lasting contribution to national events, Staunton has had a storied past: a past that has ironically remained absent in most stories. The following is my attempt to brag on my hometown, telling some of Staunton’s unique, yet often under told, story.
Downtown Staunton’s most iconic building. Known to locals simply as the ‘clocktower.’ Built in 1890.
After being first settled in 1732, Staunton soon had an early and auspicious claim on the new continent. (On a personal side note: the children of my ancestor, Frederich Hangar, who had migrated to Pennsylvania from Germany in the 1720’s, were among the first people to settle the area; they established themselves at what was at the time the central area of settlement … today known as Gypsy Hill Park.) The settlement was originally known as Beverley’s Mill Place, but, thankfully, the town was renamed in honor of Lady Rebecca Staunton Gooch, the wife of early colonial lieutenant governor, Sir William Gooch (1727 – 1749). It was made the seat of Augusta County (named after Lady Augusta, Princess of Saxe-Gotha and later Princess of Wales), the largest county … ever. Staunton was made the regional headquarters of the Northwest Territory, and continued as such from 1738 to 1771. The land area involved extended north to include western Pennsylvania and to the Great Lakes, and west all the way to the Mississippi River. The Staunton, Virginia website explains further:
“In 1915, Staunton mayor Hampton Wayt addressed the Convention of the American Instructors of the Deaf. [Staunton remains Virginia’s center for helping those with mental and physical impairments] During his speech, he said. ‘I always speak in a modest vein when I speak of Staunton, the Queen City of the Valley. It is called Staunton from the wife of a former governor of this state, who was a woman of queenly graces of mind and heart. It received its name … because at one time it was the county seat of the largest county in the world. Larger than Germany or France, and even larger than most of the principalities of Europe.”
Staunton thrived as a backwoods hub for trade; and, the town’s courthouse was the most westernmost in all the British colonies until the American Revolution (see picture below). After revolution was sparked, Staunton was once again briefly brought to the center of affairs, this time during a wartime emergency.
On January 5, 1781, turncoat Benedict Arnold marched a small army of 1,600 loyalists unopposed into the streets of Virginia’s capital city, Richmond. Arnold sent a letter demanding that Virginia’s governor, Thomas Jefferson, give up the city’s arms and tobacco stores or face the penalty. After Jefferson’s flat refusal, Arnold burned the city down. Soon thereafter, the now-dislocated Virginia House of Delegates, voted to hold session again in May in Charlottesville, Virginia, some seventy-odd miles away. On June 3, 250 dragoons under British cavalry officer, Colonel Banastre Tarleton, stopped at the Cuckoo Tavern in Louisa County, roughly halfway between Richmond and Charlottesville; they were intent on riding on to Charlottesville and capturing Jefferson and the Virginia legislative members.
Fortune was on the side of the patriots that night, however, as a friend of Jefferson, militia captain Jack Jouett, was in the tavern and surmised the British cavalrymen’s intentions. In a ride rivalling, and perhaps surpassing, Paul Revere’s, Jouett raced through the night on back roads the roughly forty miles to Monticello, Jefferson’s mountain home. Had Jouett not warned Jefferson, the governor and the remaining government of Virginia would surely have been captured, on King George III’s birthday no less. As it was, Jefferson still missed his would-be captors by less than five minutes. He would flee southwest to his personal retreat at Poplar Forest, near Lynchburg, Virginia, while the Virginia congress fled over the Blue Ridge Mountains to Staunton. The delegates (including Patrick Henry) held session in the Augusta Parish Church (see below), where they debated whether Jefferson’s actions equated to a governor’s dereliction of duty – a discussion with few precedents. Such was Staunton’s role in the American Revolution.
Trinity Episcopal Church (1855). For two weeks in June 1781, the Virginia House of Delegates and Senate met at the Augusta Parish Church (1746) on this location. Founding father James Madison was a church member there.
Listing of the delegates and senators of the Virginia Assembly who met at the Augusta Parish Church (1746) in 1781.
Six decades later, during the 1850’s, the arrival of several railroad and telegraph lines to Staunton created an unprecedented opportunity for growth; and, as a result, the city-wide economy boomed. Trade flourished. When the Civil War (Or, what I like to call the War of Northern Aggression) began, Staunton’s previous economic success and important location as a railway hub gave it strategic importance and made it ideal for military use. However, as economic concerns gave way to military ones, the local economy quickly withered. The city was exploited by the Confederacy as a central base for training, supply, and medical treatment: the Army of Northern Virginia was fed largely from grains of the Shenandoah Valley (known as the ‘breadbasket of the Confederacy’) shipped via rail to Richmond; those wounded on the battlefield were sent back along the same rail lines to hospitals in Staunton.
In 1864, Union general, Maj. Gen. David Hunter, captured the city for several days as part of a march on Lynchburg, Virginia, seventy miles to the south. He misinterpreted Confederate troop movements, however, and withdrew his forces, allowing Confederate general, Jubal Early, to quickly recaptured the city. Staunton remained in Confederate hands for the winter; but, on March 2, 1865, Maj. Gen. Philip Sheridan’s force of 10,000 cavalrymen handily defeated Early’s depleted army of 1,500 at the Battle of Waynesboro (several miles outside the city limits of Staunton), effectively ending Confederate resistance in the Shenandoah Valley. The battle was largely won by Sheridan’s subordinate, none other than Brig. Gen. George Armstrong Custer. The victors ripped up telegraph/rail lines, pillaged food stores, and burned infrastructural buildings before moving on to Lynchburg. From beginning to end, the Civil War was an unmitigated economic disaster for Staunton.
Though there are volumes more that should be said about Staunton, I am not aware of any other instances where great events in American history intersected with my hometown, the only exception perhaps being the birth of the 28th president of the United States, Woodrow Wilson (See photos below). Nonetheless, Staunton has a great number of historic sites worthy but not included here. The city is home to: the Presidential Library of Woodrow Wilson and the above-mentioned birthplace, the Camera Heritage Museum, the Frontier Culture Museum, Blackfriar’s Playhouse (where a very skilled troop performs plays in an exact interior replica of Shakespeare’s Globe of London. I’ve been to several of the plays and they are amazing. A Midsummer Night’s Dream was my favorite.), Mary Baldwin University, the Virginia School for the Deaf and Blind, and DeJarnette Sanitarium. Staunton’s role with the historically momentous deserves recognition. Today, the remaining historical treasure trove that is Staunton’s people, its architecture, and its museums – coupled with its many amenities and attractions – makes a visit to Staunton a worthy inclusion to any visit to Virginia. If history, architecture, and really good cuisine, are at all your things, you cannot go wrong with a closer look at my hometown … Staunton, Virginia.
Woodrow Wilson was born in this house on December 28, 1856. Not pictured are the Woodrow Wilson Birthplace Museum and Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library
The Camera Heritage Museum
The various exhibits of the Frontier Culture Museum
Blackfriar’s Playhouse
What is now Mary Baldwin University (formerly an all-girls college) was originally Staunton Military Academy. The University brings an interesting dynamic to the city’s population
Originally Western Lunatic Asylum (1828), the facility pictured was later used as a mental hospital, a prison, and is now a residential complex
DeJarnette Sanitarium (1932). Long since abandoned, this facility was first founded and then run by Dr. Joseph DeJarnette. It represents a darker time in Virginia’s history as its founder was a prominent eugenicist and proponent of forced sterilization
In final closing, allow me to share one final brief anecdote. Staunton is covered with hills, but is dominated by two large, forested hills in the city’s center. The two hills are in close proximity to one another, and grounded in history. Scottish settlers found the hills very familiar and named them after two similar hills back in Scotland. In 1665-66, a plaque ravaged Scotland; and, out of desperation, two Scottish lords sent their only daughter to the hills to live alone and avoid the plaque. The young man who regularly journeyed to bring the girls food, was supposedly in love with both of the girls. Tragically, the young man also brought the plaque to the girls and all three perished. In memory, the two hills were named after the girls, Betsy Bell and Mary Gray. Today, three hundred and fifty years later, the hills in Staunton bear the names of the two girls. Somehow, I feel this sad story is fitting for us to appreciate the towns (big and small) that we live in. By only acting on the slightest amount of curiosity about our surroundings, the memorable and meaningful participation of our ancestors can be forever unlocked in our imagination. If we forget who we were, we lose who we are.
Betsy Bell (left) and Mary Gray (right)
Want to Learn More:
Useful Links for Staunton
Augusta
County Historical Society:
Briefly details Augusta
County’s historical connections with many famous people (I missed a lot of
them). http://www.augustacountyhs.org/
Offers
a detailed explanation of all the main types of architecture found in Staunton
as well as information on free weekly walking tours. Additionally, there is a
fascinating link for several of the architectural treasures that Staunton has
lost, such as the Our Lady of Angels Monastery. https://historicstaunton.org/discover-staunton/
Picture 1: Original YMCA building (1874) on Central Avenue. The ‘Y’ was moved to Coalter St. and the original building was converted to residential space.
Picture 2: St. Francis Catholic Church (1895)
Picture 3: The Current Staunton Courthouse (Built 1901). Some records kept within date back to the Colonial period
Picture 4: A view of downtown Staunton from a hillside above the train depot.
Picture 5: The former C&O train station (1902) is currently under renovation
Picture 6:Former C&O train station . The original station was burned by Union general, Maj. Gen. David Hunter, in 1864. The station was rebuilt but again destroyed by a train derailment in 1890
Picture 7: Historic downtown West Beverley Street. Nearly every structure dates back at least a hundred years. This main strip in downtown Staunton offers several solid eating venues and numerous charming small shops.
I am super excited to introduce my cousin Jena, yes we have the same name with slightly different spellings. Jena currently lives in North Carolina where she is a full time fitness coach and blogger.
North Dakota tends to be overlooked a lot, but my home state is nothing short of unforgettable. From the red dirt badlands to the rolling prairies, pioneer forts to the booming oil fields, we have an incredibly rich history and some things that you will never find anywhere else.
Stanley R. Mickelsen Safeguard complex in Nekoma, North Dakota
For almost half a century, from the end of World War II the fall of the Soviet Union, our world existed on the precipice of nuclear annihilation. The threat of an instant and irreversible descent into nuclear war hung constant over Americans’ heads, it was this race for superiority that led to the creation of this place, the most advanced nuclear anti-ballistic missile facility ever built.
Road leading to the Pyramid
The Stanley R. Mickelsen Safeguard complex in Nekoma, North Dakota was the only operational anti-ballistic missile system ever deployed by the United States. It defended Minuteman ICBM missile silos near the Grand Forks AFB, North Dakota. It had reinforced underground launchers for thirty Spartan and sixteen Sprint nuclear tipped missiles (an additional fifty or so Sprint missiles were deployed at four remote launch sites). In short, nuclear missiles would have been launched from this facility to intercept and detonate incoming Soviet ICBMs.
Sprint Missile fieldsRoad leading to the Pyramid’s first floor
Originally there were to be three Safeguard facilities, with the other two near Whiteman Air Force Base in Missouri and Malmstrom Air Force Base in Montana. The 1972 Salt I Treaty changed things, however. The United States and the Soviet Union, under the terms of the treaty, were each allowed two anti-ballistic missile defense bases–one to protect the national capital, and one to defend an ICBM installation. As a result, Whiteman was canceled prior to construction, and Malmstrom was canceled with construction underway. Only the Nekoma ABM facility was completed, making it the most advanced nuclear anti-ballistic missile facility ever built. The complex was deactivated during 1976 after being operational for less than four months, due to concerns over continuing an anti-missile-missile arms race, cost to keep it operational, it’s effectiveness, and changing political rhetoric.
Outside the gate of Stanley R. Mickelsen Safeguard complex in Nekoma, North Dakota
This facility was just recently purchased by a local Hutterite farming operation, and they now farm the land all around the base. It is posted “Private Property” but I can confirm that majority of the lights in all the buildings do still turn on, all of the first floor of the Pyramid is flooded, and this ghost base was left with many belongings and personal articles that were abandoned – including American flags, coffee cups, sporting equipment, clothing, books, tools, and nonperishable foods.
Main street of Stanley R. Mickelsen Safeguard complex in Nekoma, North DakotaStanley R. Mickelsen Safeguard complex schoolSecond form of gate security leading to the pyramid and missile fields
There was once an underground escape tunnel connected to the Pyramid which was purposefully buried after the base shut down, and the door connecting the tunnel to the pyramid is unopenable. There is also only one access left to the top fourth floor of the pyramid (the visible part of the pyramid that you see).
Building of the underground escape tunnel (no longer operable), 1971 Also, construction of the third and fourth floor of the Pyramid First floor access, underground vehicle tunnel; now flooded (not original door)Inside vehicle tunnel (see waterlines) The tunnel is over 12 ft tall and 10 ft wide, it is slanted and declines into the tunnelIntersection of underground vehicle tunnel (exit – right) Tunnel to lower level (left); completely under water
All the buildings, including the Pyramid, were completely stripped after shut down. All the of operational, missile, and military equipment were taken out in the 1980’s, leaving the buildings basically empty. It is rumored that the pyramid was purposefully flooded; however this “deconstruction” did leave the pyramid with holes allowing snow and rain to get in, you can see from the pictures how not-so-well the structure has favored over the years.
Spartan missile Maintenance buildingThird floor inside Pyramid, Missile Site Control BuildingSecond floor inside Pyramid, MSCB Corridor, and Engine Pit + Missile Power Plant (left)Second floor inside Pyramid, BMDOC Corridor
These pictures are all very recent and well represent what the base looks like today. It’s a little haunting but quite the experience to see this incredible structure in the middle of the prairie.
Here is a beautiful shot from an unknown government official in 1971, very reminiscent of something out of Egypt, if only the ancients had known about cranes, rebars, and concrete.
This first guest story is brought to you by one of my good friends Matthew. He lived in Germany for many years because both of his parents were officers in the Army. Matt is a born historian and now teaches Latin and Medieval History at a High School.
Although tourism and sightseeing increase every year, fewer people find the opportunity to actually live in a location of considerable exoticness. Tucked away in the southern part of Germany in Rhineland-Pfalz resides a small Germany village by the name of Haschbach. With typical European red clay tile roofs and cinder block houses dotting the valley, the quaint village is a picture of a small German town. Castles and other historic sights are a short driving distance in every direction. Some locations sport ruins and artifacts from as far back as the Roman Empire, a Roman road is less than two kilometers from Haschbach itself (yes, the road leads to Rome).
Living in a military family, we rented a house on a dead-end street of this village. I fondly remember playing hide-and-seek with our German neighbors, sledding every winter in the pastures, and smelling the freshly baked bread and cheesecakes brought for sale in a truck from the local bakery. Curiously, the street’s name, Auf der Höll (on top of hell), had a sort of history in itself. Apparently, some years prior the mayor’s wife was mortally struck by lightning on the hill where the street now resides. I suppose the name was meant to illumine the street’s history.
However, by far, the most spectacular and exotic attraction about the village was the castle and chapel on top of a hill, called Mt. Remigiusberg, next to the village. The first uses of the hill for a type of fortification were by robber barons who built it illegally to plunder the land and its inhabitants until monks bought the castle for an exorbitant amount of money. Originally built between the 800-900s, nothing remains of the original structure. Eventually a noble family inherited the land, and a grandfather by the name of Heinrich built a new castle on the ruins of the old to protect his granddaughter from two power-hungry relatives. As good Catholics, a chapel was also built beside the castle, named Michael chapel after the Archangel. The castle was named Michelsburg and has lasted through French and German occupations both before and after the disastrous Thirty Years’ War. Remains of both structures still gleam on the mountain top reflecting nearly one thousand years of history. Although the castle itself no longer has its tower and roof, the chapel remains in use today for special occasions. And yes, the castle is an increasing tourist spot. But nothing beats the chance to actually live with the castle and chapel outside one’s bedroom window.
For more information on this town check this link:
It was not until I moved to Virginia that I realized the beauty that is the state of Arizona from the desert plains, to the Red Rocks of Sedona, to the Grand Canyon. Nestled in the landscape, there are unique stories that are waiting to share. Hidden in Cleopatra Hill, there is a town called Jerome and upon entering a skeleton greets you in a car. Right off the bat, it is evident that this is an unusual town. Jerome boomed at the beginning in 1876 and at one point had a population of over 15,000. By the 1950’s it became considered a ghost town; today the community is about 440 people, but the locals all joke that to understand the demographic you must count all the pets since everyone owns one. It began as a mining town and still shows the trace to this day at the local museum located in Jerome State Historic Park, and their pictures show the village in its full glory.
The town gets it name from the Jerome family in New York; if that sounds familiar you may be a fan of Winston Churchill. Winston Churchill’s mother was named Jennie Jerome, and she was from New York; her family was considered new money and had a difficult time assimilating into the culture. The solution to this was to marry into English Nobility, Americans wanted Titles, and the English Nobility desperately needed money to help their estates continue. Jennie Jerome becomes one of the first of the Americans to successfully marry an English Nobleman and become Lady Randolph Churchill in 1874 two years before the founding of Jerome. One of the primary investors was named Eugene Jerome, the namesake of Jerome; Eugene and Jennie are first cousins. Despite being named after the Jerome family, no family member of the Eugene Jerome ever visited this quaint town. This is one story of many that Jerome has to offer along with a unique landscape.
For More Information on Jennie Jerome check out the book:
To Marry An English Lord by Carol McD. Wallace and Gail MacColl
For More information on Jerome check out their Historical Society:
Small World, Big Stories 