We were fortunate to be staying at the Grand Canyon on the night of August 11-12, when the Perseids Meteor Shower took place over North America. Had we been at home, we would have lamented the fact that we’d have to drive a long distance to get away from the city lights to hope to have a chance to see the meteors. However, when Andrew saw a feature while checking his email yesterday, he stopped by the front desk to see if the park was planning anything special and yes! – we were going to be up at 2 a.m. checking out this celestial fireworks display.
The Olympics have come along at a bad time for us, because we stayed up until 11:30 p.m. (local time) to see if the USA men’s gymnastic team would hang on to the silver team medal. (They didn’t, losing in the last event and dropping to the bronze.) So we got about 2 hours of sleep before the alarm went off, but everyone pulled themselves out of bed, put on some warm clothing, and then we hopped in the car for a short drive to a Grand Canyon overlook…with about 100 of our newfound star-gazing friends from all around the world.
Even if there wasn’t going to be a meteor shower, just having the chance to see a beautiful night sky on a cloudless night over the Grand Canyon was a real treat. But for about 45 minutes we were treated to the commentary of a friendly park ranger, some Beethoven (courtesy of the ranger’s boom box), and dozens of meteors whizzing across the night sky.
It was a night to remember and something that we’ll take away as one of the special moments from our western trip.
We leave the Grand Canyon in about an hour to travel through Monument Valley.
Monday dawned clear, sunny, and beautiful over Grand Canyon, and we made the best of it. The crowds thinned considerably from Sunday, so we could hike, eat, and enjoy all there is to see at our own pace.
On Sunday, we stopped to talk with a ranger and had looked through his telescope to see one of the California Condors in his nest. These remarkable birds — now being re-established in the wild after having a brush with extinction — have a 9′ wing span, fly at about 55 miles per hour, and can soar to 20,000 feet and then coast for two hours.
So imagine our surprise on our way to breakfast on Monday when a California Condor (#72 as tagged on his wings — he was that close) came swooping over our heads looking for his breakfast. It was wonderful, and I whipped out the camera and captured this picture as he circled overhead. The size of this bird was amazing…as Andrew points out, just think that one wing is about the size of a short person. Very majestic — and a great start to the day.
We hiked for most of the day — a short ways down into the canyon and then more time up on the South Rim. We saw unforgettable views, took videos and photos for the family scrapbook, and all picked up a little sun. In the morning we stopped to view a very nice exhibit on the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) and their work at the Grand Canyon. The evening ended with a great dinner in the main dining hall at El Tovar.
But tomorrow (actually today since this is being posted on 8/12 in east coast time) will begin very early. Andrew was checking his email and came across a note about a meteor shower tonight. He went downstairs to check, and found out that a ranger will lead a viewing this morning between 2 – 4 a.m. When Claire protested about getting up at that hour, Andrew said “it is a meteor shower over the Grand Canyon! How often do you have a chance like that?!?” Needless to say, we’re all going to try and attend. We’ll let you know on the next post how it turned out.
A friend of mine, John Lane, sent an email after the post I made last week on the death of long-time Braves announcer Skip Carey. It included a great story that I just had to share. After noting that he appreciated baseball and was headed to Fenway next month for a game, John turned to basketball announcers when he wrote:
“That brings to mind Johnny Most, who was for many years the radio voice of the Boston Celtics (1953-1990), one whose allegiance was never in doubt. Catch him on YouTube.
On one occasion the game had gotten very exciting. Most was screaming into the microphone when suddenly his voice was lost, though the crowd noise in the background continued at a roar.
After nearly two minutes of no play-by-play, Most’s voice resumed: ‘Sorry about that Celtics fans. I got so excited I fell out of the press box.'”
If you have stories to tell on your favorite sportscaster, please feel free to write a comment to this post.
“Standing on the corner in Winslow, Arizona; What a fine sight to see…”
But I get ahead of myself.
Sunday was a big travel day on our western trip, but we did manage to see some great historic sites and landscapes, eat a couple of nice meals, and recall a part of our youth.
Sunday morning we left the first of three hotels with a great history that we visited that day. El Rancho in Gallup, New Mexico bills itself as the “Home of the Movie Stars” – as long as you mean movie stars of the 1930s-1950s. We stayed in the Spencer Tracy Room and had fun walking through this funky western-style lobby (see photo below) looking at pictures of Errol Flynn, an early Fred McMurray, Katherine Hepburn, and the like.
We left El Rancho and found a great local breakfast diner in Gallup – called My Sister’s Place – that reminded us of the Beverly Restaurant in Staunton and the City Cafe in Murfreesboro (two of our favorite family breakfast restaurants). Suitably fortified we hit the road.
We made a stop at the historic Hubbell Trading Post and then took off for the Grand Canyon. Along the way we stopped in Winslow, Arizona to have lunch at the historic La Posada Hotel, designed by the great Southwestern architect Mary Colter. La Posada was one of her later designs and the building has been beautifully restored. We ate lunch in the Turquoise Room and had the best meal of our trip to date. Squash blossoms, trout, a black bean/cream corn soup…ummmmm….Highly recommended. We then visited all the public spaces in the hotel to take pictures (see Claire’s offering below) and enjoy the space. I was pleased to hear from the ladies in the gift shop that Arnold Berke’s biography of Mary Colter is a strong seller! They celebrate Colter at La Posada, which is great.
And since we were in Winslow, we had to go “Stand on the corner” so that girl in the “flatbed Ford” could slow down “and take a look at me.” Our 15 year olds were just shaking their heads as we lined up with all the other baby boomers to have our picture taken on that famous corner (the opening shot of this post). If you’re too old or too young to understand the reference (and to identify the band), just quote the first line to any baby boomer and you’ll get your answer.
Leaving Winslow, we drove through a torrential downpour to get to the Grand Canyon, where the sun broke through when we were about 20 miles away. We are staying at the historic El Tovar Lodge – a National Historic Landmark and one of the historic Harvey Hotels of the Southwest (as was La Posada). We’ve walked a bit and saw our first sunset at the Grand Canyon, but we’re here for a couple of nights so we’ll have more to post tomorrow and Tuesday.
Yesterday was magical for the Browns as we visited Acoma Sky City, the country’s oldest continuously inhabited community, on a splendid summer day. Acoma Sky City is a National Trust for Historic Preservation Historic Site and one of this country’s very special places. Rising early we arrived at the spectacular Sky City Cultural Center – a center that blends with the land and was designed only after the community held a series of focus groups with tribal members ranging from age 4 to 96. Every detail at the center has been thoughtfully considered, and we received a top-to-bottom tour from Center Operations Director Randy Howarth. Randy was our host for the day and saw to it that we got to experience all that Acoma had to offer.
Acoma Sky City – the spiritual home of the pueblo – sits on the top of a 357 foot mesa. We joined a tour group that included some bikers from Belgium who were riding Historic Route 66 from Chicago to LA. After riding to the top of the mesa, we met our tour guide Gary and spent the next hour and a half touring the historic Mission Church of San Estevan Rey (see Andrew’s picture at the top of the post), the plaza, and the exteriors of the historic houses. Sky City is a photographer’s dream, and Andrew and Claire took over 100 pictures between them. With the brilliant blue sky and bright sun, the shadows made for great pictures, such as the one Claire took below of one of the historic ladders leading to the second floors.
We had enjoyed the tour but were honored when Connie Garcia, the General Manager of the Cultural Center, invited us into her home that faces the plaza. For the next hour, we talked with Connie about life on the mesa. Connie is a member of the Antelope clan on her mother’s side, the clan that appoints the leadership for the pueblo, including the War (or Field) Chiefs who have oversight for the historic mesa. It was touching to hear Connie speak of the deep responsibility she and other members of the clan feel to identify effective male leaders for the various tribal posts. Acoma is a matriarchal society in terms of dominant clans (Connie is a “little bear” on her father’s side) and yet all the tribal leaders are male. We were all moved when she spoke of how her lack of daughters meant that she would be the last in her line to be a member of the Antelope Clan. Connie passed along so much wisdom to us while sitting in that special place. It was truly an honor.
After leaving Connie’s, we hiked down the mesa on the “Padre’s Trail” – the very steep set of steps cut into the rock that for centuries was among the handful of foot trails that provided the only access to the top of the mesa. For our adventuresome daughter and rock-climbing son, this was a thrill. Candice and I enjoyed it…but I wouldn’t say we enjoyed it to the same level of excitement as Andrew and Claire. We all made it down in one piece and have the photo to prove it.
When we returned to the Cultural Center, we met with Tribal Historic Preservation Officer and Site Director Theresa Paschal. I’ve come to know Theresa in my work and it was great to have the opportunity to sit down over a lunch of traditional Acoma food with Theresa and Randy. We talked about stabilization needs of the oldest structures on the mesa, funding, historic preservation review with the NM Department of Transportation, and all sorts of work-related issues, but her eyes really lit up when we talked about Claire’s black-and-white photography course. Theresa told Claire of going through 12 rolls of film at Spanish market in Santa Fe as an example of her passion for photography. “Black-and-white is the real photography” said Theresa…and Claire agreed. After a walk through the museum exhibit (appropriately of historic black-and-white photographs of Acoma) and the wonderful gift shop, we said our good-byes and left this magical place physically, but the spirit of Acoma will certainly remain with us for a long time.
Andrew and Claire have seen more National Trust Historic Sites that most people in America. In 4th grade, Claire’s teacher asked her what her father did for a living and she replied “he goes to meetings and signs papers.” When she told me that story, I laughed and said that was a pretty good description of many of my days, but it wasn’t WHY I worked for the National Trust for Historic Preservation. So over the next five years, I’ve taken one or more of my children with me on a business trip over their spring break, and they’ve now seen our sites from Filoli and Cooper-Molera Adobe on the west coast to the Museum of African American History and Chesterwood on the east coast – and many in-between. They’ve learned a lot about historic preservation, but they both agreed that Acoma Sky City was among the highlights of these visits. A truly magical day.
On our first day headed west, we spent most of the day in the air getting to Albuquerque, but did arrive in time to walk a bit around Old Town and then visit Petroglyph National Monument; Our time in Old Town was spent eating some good New Mexican food and taking photographs. We’ve included one above by Claire that we all enjoyed.
After leaving Old Town, we drove out of Albuquerque a short way to visit the Petroglyph National Monument. Most readers will know that Petroglyphs are Native American sacred art — images etched in stone that may date from 2,000 – 3,000 years ago according to the NPS brochure. The landscape itself is amazing.
This is a 17 mile mesa created by volcanic eruptions which left striking basalt boulders. The images were then etched into these boulders — some 20,000 in all with the majority made 400 to 700 years ago. On our hike to the top of the mesa, we took countless close-ups of the petroglyphs.
These are wonderful works of art and we couldn’t get enough photos. Claire was taking shots with her black & white camera (the “classic” she calls it), while Andrew took over with the digital. I’ve included one of his shots of a petroglyph in the thumbnail photo above, but the photograph of his that we all enjoyed was the panorama view from the top of the Mesa looking back towards Albuquerque and the mountains that point the way to Santa Fe. I have a feeling that’s not the last panorama shot you’ll see from this trip (especially since Andrew taught me how to use that feature! It is great having techno-savvy teenagers.)
We’re now watching the opening ceremonies at the Olympics and gearing up for tomorrow’s trip to Acoma Sky City.
An email from the husband of a friend who shall remain nameless showed up in my home email in-box recently with a list of books on his table ready for his summer reading. There were a lot of very serious titles—some of which I’ve read and many of which I’ve missed—but the one that caught my eye was War is a Force That Gives Us Meaningby Chris Hedges. Now I’ve read that book, and I don’t consider it light reading. In fact, it is pretty depressing. For while Hedges calls for humility, love, and compassion as the only chance for the human race, he writes of the addiction of war and its unifying force. When you read this, our chances seem pretty slim.
But that’s NOT why I’m writing about Summer Reading Lists. There are 9 other months of the year to read books like War is a Force… Summer reading is different. Here are three books (two on baseball; one only tangentially on architecture but really on love) I think are great for summer reading.
When I recently saw my friends the Quattlebaums in Andover (I met them a couple of years ago on the wonderful National Trust Black Sea cruise we took on the Sea Cloud), it reminded me of two books on baseball that I’d recommend to anyone. The first is a new book in 2008—Anatomy of Baseball—a compilation of essays edited by Lee Gutkind and Andrew Blauner. As a compilation, the writing here is uneven, but at its best it is great. The single essay Oriole Magic by Elizabeth Bobrick—where a Ph.D. classics student in 1979 discovers that baseball writers are the best in the world and baseball is a sport that endlessly fascinates—is worth the price of the book alone. Just a couple of examples will have to do.
The Orioles Bird at a game at Camden Yards
In her first ever foray into the Sports section of the Baltimore Evening Sun (to avoid studying), Bobrick stumbles across two articles by a writer named Terry Pluto and immediately thinks of the Greek god of wealth and the underworld. She writes of his second article:
“A rainstorm had forced the game (in Cleveland) to be called, and a melee ensued, during which the home fans tore up the stadium while being chased through mud by the police. Both constabulary and quarry slipped and fell a good deal. Pluto said the scene, one ‘worthy of the Keystone Kops,’ played out against a dramatic backdrop: ‘The sky was filled with lightning. The rain came down in torrents and Noah could be heard in the background pounding the last few nails into his ark.’
I had never seen reporting like this: a description of the weather apparently lifted from a Gothic novel followed by an allusion to the Book of Genesis, all in order to take a swipe at the Cleveland fans’ wild behavior and their police force’s ineptitude. I admired the boldness of the mix, and the broad brushstroke delivery.”
Later in the essay, she quotes Tom Callahan of the Washington Star, whose “sentence structure reminded me of Cicero’s.” With the O’s one game away from winning the series, Bobrick quotes Callahan and then adds her take on the sentence:
“‘Earl Weaver loudly says HE is to be the star of the Baltimore Orioles, a plain fact that amuses the players at the brink of the World Championship; which annoys them occasionally; which hurts their feelings frequently; which helped them to the brink of the championship undeniably.’ Behold, a one-sentence illustration of what adverbs can do when a professional strikes the keys.”
The book also has great essays on first gloves, a Frank Deford piece on baseball caps, and much more.
The second baseball book that my visit with the Quattlebaums brought to mind is Jim Collins’ wonderful The Last Best Leagueabout the Cape Cod Wooden Bat League. I was reading this book on the Sea Cloud when I met them the first time, and it is simply one of the best baseball books ever. So imagine my surprise when Ed Quattlebaum tells me that one of his sons is mentioned in the book—the player nicknamed “GQ” because he looks so preppy. (These wonderful people do teach at Andover!) And those of you who know me know of my love for our own college wooden bat league here in Maryland—the Cal Ripkin, Sr. Collegiate Baseball League. I love our new Nationals stadium and it is great having MLB baseball back in Washington, but few things top the pleasure of sitting with 500-700 other fans right on top of the action on a beautiful summer night and cheering for the Bethesda Big Train or the Silver Spring Thunderbolts. The season just ended, but it was another great one. If you want to catch the flavor before 2009, read The Last Best League.
Now, for those of you who just can’t abide baseball, you might check out Loving Frankby Nancy Horan. I’m not a big reader of fiction, but this historical novel based on the love affair between Frank Lloyd Wright and Mamah Borthwick (the wife of one of his clients in Oak Park) really surprises. It is hard to put down…and that’s all I’ll say about it.
Now I don’t want you to think I’m being totally frivolous during the summer…I did read Barack Obama’s Audacity of Hopeand I’m halfway through Dreams From My Father…but really…there will be 9 months out of the year for serious reading. But come to think of it, what can be more serious than when Elizabeth Bobrick writes that “none of the Birds impressed me so much as first baseman and switch-hitter Eddie Murray. With the intuitive grasp of an idiot savant, I was drawn to this future Hall of Famer…who was later described as someone who ‘tossed around words like they were $100 bills.'” In describing how baseball—and Murray—helped lift her from depression, she writes:
“After the ’83 Series, Eddie Murray had uttered a phrase of Roman simplicity and elegance: ‘Our strength is just being ourselves.’ I taped that sentence over my desk. I had succeeded in being myself, a self that no longer filled me with the despair I had felt in 1979.”
The Lovell Sisters Band at Strathmore Music Center
It was a beautiful evening in Bethesda, Maryland as a few hundred fans stretched out on the lawn in front of the Strathmore Mansion with picnics in hand to enjoy a free concert by the Lovell Sisters Band. This band of three young sisters from Georgia played two spirited sets bringing together bluegrass and country classics with some very tasteful original music. All three sisters – Jessica on fiddle, Megan on Dobro, and Rebecca on mandolin and guitar – are excellent instrumentalists and the harmony singing is as good as expected from three musical siblings. While all three sisters had their moments, the standout for me was the youngest, Rebecca – the writer of much of the original material and the owner of a nice bluesy voice that will only get better as she matures. She also played some spirited mandolin breaks, trading licks with guitarist Matt Wingate. During the concert I turned to my wife and said “that guitarist is good,” so I wasn’t surprised to find out later that he is a former Merlefest guitar champ. The band was rounded out with strong bass work by Andy Nall, from the sisters’ hometown of Calhoun.
The Lovell Sisters played a variety of tunes but never flagged- even putting new energy into the old Johnny Cash chestnut Folsom Prison Blues. And when they talked they sounded exactly like three teenage sisters (which is endearing to those of us with teenagers in the house).
I discovered MVYRadio (Martha’s Vineyard Radio) when I was unable to attend the 2008 Merlefest Celebration in Wilkesboro, NC. Remembering their advertisements at previous Merlefest events, I checked them out online and found they were streaming live from the festival and had a rich archives of performances from past years. Check out the archives section and you’ll find performances from a number of great festivals.
This is the first view one has when visiting the Taj Mahal
This November I’ll head to Slovakia for the annual meeting of the Executive Committee of the International National Trusts Organisation (yes, we use the British spelling). While there, I hope to post some comments and photos about both the work and the historic buildings we tour. In preparation for that posting, I am linking to the posts made on the PreservationNation blog last December, when I was in India for the establishment of INTO. It was an extraordinary trip which included an opportunity to share the stage with the Prime Minister of India, Dr. Manmohan Singh (who just last month survived a vote of no confidence in India). Slovakia will be with a much smaller group, but we are looking forward to reviewing the progress we’ve made with INTO in the first six months. More to come.
MORE TO COME... 