This post’s title might make you think of this song, which isn’t a bad thing. I’ve been singing it in my head for days.
What inspired it, though, was last weekend’s road trip.
I piled into the car at 8am Saturday with my sister and our dad. We really only needed two of us, but Dad and “sitting still” are two phrases that never appear in the same sentence. Also our mission was to pick up a car from a mechanic before noon, so having someone along who is skilled in more than just the basics of car repair wasn’t a bad idea.
We drove three hours, exiting the interstate to take a toll road in Pennsylvania. I hadn’t experienced this route before, but my sister and a friend had stories to tell from an entire month prior about the unmanned toll plazas. The tolls vary from $2.20 to $2.80, requiring you to toss coins in the bin and/or feed paper money into the hungry slot. (The machine does issue change.) My dad, as an always prepared Boy Scout parent and grandparent, but mostly as what I call a True Engineer, had us set up with used (but washed) Tim Horton’s cups and rolls of change.
I had to be trained in the procedure of loading the correct change into a cup in order to toss the whole shebang toward the big coin bin. The cup itself doesn’t go in the bin, of course. It just aids in not dropping change onto the ground or the floor of the car.
After an uneventful car pickup, a local recommended the Braddock’s Restaurant & Tavern for lunch. I had an excellent wedge salad, while my dining companions had sandwiches and what I’m told was excellent clam chowder. The soundtrack was all 90s country, which is primarily what I listened to in the 90s, living most of that decade in the South. I have video evidence from the restaurant, but we’re not gonna post that.
We had become aware Braddock’s grave was nearby. Wandering until we found the correct side of the property, we got some steps in while learning some history.
We are quite familiar with the name “Braddock”. Having a family history of residing in Northern Virginia, aka NoVA, indeed when driving in that area it seems, “They ran out of ideas and named every road Braddock.” Listen to this classic by DJ Dan Smith for an accurate picture of NoVA life. And only a few generations ago, one of our ancestors immigrated from Ireland as part of General Braddock’s army.
This was pre-American Revolution, during French and Indian War times. History I’ve mostly forgotten since learning it in school. But the Laurel Highlands of Western Pennsylvania is rich in history from that era. General Braddock came over with troops from both England and Ireland to assist George Washington in building the National Road.
Those men cleared three miles a day of trees in what is not flat, easy terrain. Braddock was killed in action, so Washington had soldiers bury him under the road and then march across the grave to disguise the location. The fear was the enemy would desecrate the grave if they found it. So my several times great-grandpa likely marched across this very location! Historic steps!
Oh but there was more history to geek out over!
We backtracked only a couple of miles to Fort Necessity, dubbed as such by George Washington, who called it, “… a charming field for an Encounter.”
We found a well-equipped visitor center and museum, complete with introductory video.
Outside we met a tour guide to show us the grounds. You can wander at your own pace, but I recommend taking the guided tour. It’s free and full of information. (There’s also a small playground for anyone with children who need to burn off energy.)
We heard more than once, “If this were 1755, where would you say we are? Pennsylvania? Ohio? New York? Louisiana, aka New France? Canada?”
The answer is nobody knows. It was all in dispute.
Next we met up with a British soldier who further fulfilled our nerdish tendencies.
Then we walked over to the replica of the original fort. It is not large. But it did have room to store the rum rations each soldier was given daily.
I didn’t have a particular plan for the day other than the car pickup. Maybe see if some friends who live in the area were around, maybe find somewhere to get out and walk, maybe find coffee. Instead, it was a beautiful day full of super interesting history and several glasses of iced tea at Cracker Barrel on the way back home.
