My Veggie Patch

JWise Photo of the Day

A 12 foot by 14 foot vegetable garden in Tonopah, Arizona sprouting various vegetables

This is my little vegetable garden out at Tonopah Rob’s Vegetable Farm. Because I volunteer out on the farm and help with Rob’s website I was given a 12 foot by 14-foot patch to plant what I wanted to. The area with little growth in it is supposed to be lettuce but these really small birds that can fit through the chicken wire are nipping off the tender leaves before much of the lettuce gets a chance to take hold. Most everything else is doing well though, as you can see. I have planted three types of chard, red mustard, orach & chual (two native southwest greens), green wave mustard, Tokyo bekana, mizuna, arugula, cilantro, salad burnet, spinach, mache, chives (which have not sprouted yet), five types of carrots, two types of radish, beets, collard greens, rutabaga, turnips, broccoli, cabbage, and borage. In the center row of the plot I planted about a dozen different varieties of garlic, the first clove just sprouted yesterday. I still have an old bathtub sitting next to my plot where I need to plant more herbs. The herbs are special for Caroline so we can make a Frankfurt specialty called Grüne Soße (Green Sauce) made of borage, sorrel, cress, chervil, chives, parsley, and salad burnet – its been fifteen years since she last tasted this famous Frankfurt culinary treat.

Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Dawn at the Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

Today was the last day of our short vacation that began in Baltimore and will end there, too, but until then, we have something to do that starts right here in Pennsylvania, where we spent the night.

Dawn at the Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

This little old train station should offer you all the clues you need to figure out where we are. While you might surmise where we are, the people at Segs in the City bungled our scheduled Segway tour and never showed up; no big deal, as we are pretty good at entertaining ourselves.

Dawn at the Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

Shortly after the break of dawn seemed like a great time to arrive at Gettysburg National Military Park.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

It’s late in the year, early autumn, and with the summer vacation season closed, we seemed to have picked a particularly solemn time to pay a visit to these hallowed grounds

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

While it often happens that we are so early that we’ve beat everyone else it’ll be much like this the majority of the day, just Caroline and I.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

Like the Blue Ridge Parkway about 160 miles south of here or the Natchez Trace Parkway, further southeast, this vast tract of land has been preserved to appear much the way it did back in 1863 in the days prior to the battle that would be the turning point in the Civil War.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

The map for the self-guided tour does a great job of taking us into the small corners of the park.

Spotting the National Park welcome sign, we had to note the moment here with a selfie.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

The monuments are adding up with various regiments receiving recognition while also sharing where the unit had originated from, such as New York, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Ohio, etc.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

This site was a bloodbath of people killing others, one side fighting to defeat slavery and preserve a union and the other wanting to defend the barbaric practice and remove themselves from the rest of the country that wanted to end slavery.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

Back on those summer days of June, 7.863 people died, and 51,000 were wounded.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

Not exactly a historic building (dating from the 1940s) but it certainly lends itself well to being in the right environment for those who might want to offer prayers.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

Can anyone moving through such an idyllic landscape begin to imagine what those three pivotal weeks out here would have been like with gunfire ringing out, canons firing, dead men scattered about, the wounded lying in agony waiting to be tended to, and the rage of men driving the whole thing into such barbarism?

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

Closeup detail of the Spirit Triumphant, a statue noting the losses of Louisiana at Gettysburg.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

That’s the George and Dorothy Rose Farmhouse out there; sadly, it’s only available for tours during special events; our visit is not one of those days. The house was built back in 1811, and its barn burned down in 1910; today, it belongs to the National Park Service. Part of the property was known as the Wheatfield, where more than 20,000 soldiers clashed, wounding or killing 6,000 men. Not only did Confederate soldiers use this farm for shelter some of the buildings also served as a field hospital. It’s estimated that there are between 500 and 1000 men buried right here.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

This statue depicts New York General Gouverneur K. Warren on this hilltop since August 8, 1888. From this vantage point, you might want to consider that there were approximately 160,000 men out there intent on killing one another. The Great Lawn in Central Park holds approximately 185,000 people who’ve listened in on Jimi Hendrix, Elton John, and Simon & Garfunkel, while Glastonbury draws about 200,000 people a year if you want to Google an image of what so many people look like and then, imagine then armed and fighting hand to hand.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

And then, over the three days of the battle, there were no Porta-Johns, no food trucks, no souvenir vendors, and certainly no bands filling the air with music unless you count military drums. Nope, just the sound of the wounded begging for help and those at death’s doorstep praying for mercy.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

This carnage was considered honorable and necessary by the 11 rogue states of Texas, Arkansas, Louisiana, Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, Florida, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia because they were pissed about not being allowed to have slaves as members of the United States of America.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

Strange thought that maybe at least some of the trees growing on this old battlefield drew upon the blood and sweat of those who fell on this ground.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

One can only wonder what the monuments will look like in the future after we do this Civil War thing all over again.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

Or maybe there will be no monuments as the self-loathing of a people frustrated with their own personal failures that they blame on others will have them existing in hovels like the grubby little animals they aspire to be.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

The museum features the Gettysburg Cyclorama, a painting in the round by the French artist Paul Philippoteaux depicting Pickett’s Charge. The narrative, along with spotlights on points of action offers a great view of the battlefield for visitors to this national historic site.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

I don’t believe these are the boots any of us would have liked walking in.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

As the hour of our departure quickly encroached, we darted over to the house where Abraham Lincoln allegedly penned the Gettysburg Address on the back of an envelope. This has since been proven wrong, as there are drafts of the speech Lincoln was working on from as early as July 1863.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

On November 19, 1863, Abraham Lincoln came to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, for the dedication ceremony of the Soldiers’ National Cemetery, where he gave one of the greatest speeches in American history.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

—Abraham Lincoln

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

There’s a certain tragedy about visiting Gettysburg that I think arrives with our ignorance of history, politics, ethics, and our own education. Do we really comprehend how fragile the tenuous bonds are that hold us together? The civility of a people is degraded when empathy, education, and community are sacrificed for economic prosperity and give rise to incivility and outright hostility, possibly leading to something as contemptible as a civil war. Monuments may offer us a space to find reflection on distant moments out of a past we believe we no longer really relate to, but they should act as warnings and stop signs that force us to ask ourselves, are we traveling on our own path to war as we forget about the common good in order to only care about ourselves?

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

The casualties at Gettysburg for soldiers from New York state alone were 82 officers and 912 enlisted men killed, with 306 officers and 3763 enlisted men wounded.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

One-hundred forty-six years after these men fell, we no longer have any idea who any of them were. While some fought for holding a country together, others fought for the folly of idiots who only knew their own greed and ignorance unable to perceive any greater good.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

I initially thought we might spend a couple of hours here, but after eight hours and a rushed tour of the museum, we were hardly ready to leave.

Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania

Our self-guided driving tour took us past hundreds of monuments over hill and dale under blue skies from sunrise to late afternoon before we took to the skies for the nearly five-hour flight back to Phoenix, Arizona.

In The Crown

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

It was just five months ago that we were last here, 2,400 miles from home, looking at the exact same view, except that we were traveling with my mother-in-law, Jutta Engelhardt. She’d never been to New York City, and neither Caroline nor I had been to the Statue of Liberty. Back on the 23rd of May, we spent a good amount of time visiting Ellis Island before continuing to Liberty Island, where the Lady stands. We couldn’t visit the statue’s interior then as we didn’t have reservations, and the crown was still closed as it had been for ten years.

But we learned on that day the crown would be reopening for a short period starting on July 4th, so we made plans. So, this is the primary reason we’ve been back here in the northeastern United States on this vacation.

Having recently had a great tour of Ellis Island, we don’t feel any need to spend any more time there on this visit.

This, though, is where the ferry to Liberty Island departs, and so for a few minutes, we were once again on this small bit of land in New York Harbor.

That is the look of, “Oh my god, we have the special wristbands that will actually allow us to visit the Crown of the Statue of Liberty!” This is an incredible honor, and we are fortunate beyond belief as only about 500 people a day on the best of days are granted permission to make their way to the top of the Statue of Liberty.

While I have a profound sense of reverence for this statue and what it represents, I am also cursed with an inappropriate sense of irreverence that forces me to follow some unorthodox ideas, such as recognizing that we’ll effectively be crawling up Lady Liberty’s backside.

This is the internally lit torch held by the statue for decades. The amber panes of glass and interior lights were early design changes. Then, between 1984 and 1986, when the Statue of Liberty went through a thorough restoration, it was decided to create a new flame that conformed to the original design of Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi, and so a proper 24-karat gold-plated flame was placed in her hand.

That’s an exact replica of Lady Liberty’s foot in case you ever wanted to compare your head size to one of her toenails.

The elevator at the base of the pedestal was not functioning today, so first, we had to ascend 101 feet of stairs before embarking on the final climb up the narrow spiral staircase that took us 22 stories above the pedestal into Lady Liberty’s crown.

What an amazing idea to be able to visit the interior of a statue and such an iconic one at that. How could any of us be this lucky?

We are not tumors. We are simply visitors in the Statue of Liberty’s head, specifically in the crown. Standing up here, even knocking my head into the steel supports more than once, was just as thrilling as visiting the White House back in May.

The crown tour opened this past July 4th after being closed for nearly ten years. Tickets were not easy to come by when we ordered back in late June, and after two more years, the statue will once again shut down to visitors as renovations are planned to improve visitors’ ability to visit the crown.

Some anonymous person, back in 1886, was looking out at the Brooklyn Bridge, which had only been open three years by that time. There were no buildings taller than the Trinity Church standing tall at 281 feet (85 meters) and it’s still out there. It would be another 45 years before the Empire State Building at 1,250 feet (381 meters) would really start to redefine the New York skyline.

For us tourists, this might be the rarest of views, one in which we are here nearly alone aside from the park ranger who collected our wristbands, and I’m sure must keep watch over those who might feel compelled to carve something into this national treasure.

One final look over at the city and we headed for the exit.

One side is for coming up; the other is for going down while the ranger does their best to perch themself out of the way on the structural frame of the statue. Look in the upper right of this photo, and you can spy the telltale green pants of the National Park ranger. The reason for that is the platform for visitors is rather small here in the crown, which is also why only about 500 people a day get to share the view.

In all, we’ll have climbed about 500 steps to cover both directions. As we are leaving, it is not that we really wanted to go, but others arrived, and I’m certain that they too want to indulge to the best of their ability as space allows them to capture the memories that they, too, at one time in their lives had visited the crown of the Statue of Liberty.

On our descent, we stopped to look at the inside of the Statue of Liberty’s giant nose, and from how polished the copper is, we weren’t the first to reach out and touch this part of history. For a brief moment, I felt like a really big booger.

We arrived early this morning, bypassing Ellis Island, as we knew that we’d like to be the first up today, and that’s just what we were offered. Now, with that done, we are visiting the pedestal to check out the views from up here. While it’s difficult to see in this high-contrast image with the ferry in silhouette, there may be a million people on that thing or whatever the carrying capacity of that craft is.

Out of view, next to the left foot of this monument, is a segment of broken chains. In one of the early designs of this statue, she was holding in her left hand the broken shackle that represented the end of slavery in the United States. A terra-cotta model of that version of the statue still exists at the Museum of the City of New York. Ultimately, Lady Liberty would be holding a tablet with the date of July 4th, 1776, when the Declaration of Independence was ratified, but that wasn’t the original idea, and a small part of the broken shackles was able to remain.

While Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi was the sculptor of the Statue of Liberty, it was born from an idea by Edouard de Laboulaye. His original idea appears to have been to create a monument to liberty following the end of the Civil War (it should be noted that he was an abolitionist). However, this was deemed “too divisive,” and in keeping with America’s tendency of hiding truths, this connection to the end of slavery and the torch representing the enlightenment from that dark time didn’t fit the narrative of welcoming immigrants, and it was scrubbed from history until 2011 when the L.A. Progressive featured a story about the chains at Lady Liberty’s feet.

Would a statue celebrating the end of slavery in America have been allowed such a prominent place in our lore had the intolerant underbelly of hate known the truth? She was meant to be a beacon for Americans of African descent, yet here I am in 2022 writing this, and had no idea until this very day as I was researching various aspects of her history. While this is shameful, I’m happy that this journey into the United States has brought me back around and is still teaching me things.

I zoomed into this photo, and sure enough, you can see the chains over her left foot.

This is St. Paul’s Chapel, which has been standing here since 1766. Why I didn’t photograph the front of this historic building of worship is a mystery, or maybe it was due to the gravestones and trees that in some way removed it from the bustle of the metropolis surrounding it.

Washington once prayed here.

Federal Hall National Memorial is the site where America recognizes its first seat of government as the United States took up residence. For a short time, New York City was the nation’s capital, and the old City Hall that stood here was where George Washington was sworn in. That old building was razed in 1812, and this beauty was built. It, too, was considered for the wrecking ball, but in 1939, it was saved, and shortly thereafter, it became the memorial it is today.

Back when George Washington was inaugurated in this general vicinity, New York City only existed in this part of lower Manhattan. As for this statue looking out at Wall Street, it was made by John Quincy Adams Ward (no relation to the 6th U.S. President with a similar name), who also sculpted one of the most important abolitionist sculptures called the Freedman.

The Manhattan Municipal Building stands on one of the edges where New York City’s governance is now performed. Out of sight is the nearby City Hall that I should have photographed too; it’s the one that replaced the old building over at Wall Street.

This is the Thurgood Marshall United States Courthouse.

In the background is the Daniel Patrick Moynihan United States Courthouse, where the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York operates. Out front is the New York State Supreme Court Building.

Look across the NYC skyline, and you’ll notice a lot of these old wooden tanks that seem to be relics of the past but are not. They are still in use to this day. It turns out that with so many buildings over seven stories tall, the pressure required to deliver so much water is a Herculean task, and this is where the water tanks come in. Using pumps in the basements of these buildings, water is pumped into the tank and then gravity-fed into the apartments and businesses below. By the way, there’s something about the nature of the wood structure that doesn’t allow the water to freeze in the winter.

Can you guess the area of the city we are passing through?

Behind us is the Manhattan Bridge.

And just to our right from the photo above this one is the Mahayana Buddhist Temple where this photo, which wasn’t allowed to be taken, somehow ended up in my camera in some inexplicable way. Caroline offered a dollar donation for a fortune scroll at the entry, but it was foreboding, telling her not to get too attached to her belongings; this was certainly not a Chinese fortune cookie kind of thing. Of course, she had to offer another dollar, but the Buddhists apparently do not think getting one’s hopes up for great fortune just around the corner is what should be told to strangers.

There’s so much to New York City we’ve never experienced, and yet here we are in Little Italy again.

Well, on previous visits, we didn’t take in Café Ferrara, and this experience should rank high on anyone’s visit to the Big Apple…topped with strawberries, powdered sugar, and a drizzle of chocolate.

There’s magic in simply walking through this city…

…and then finding something this special because where else might one see chicken dick splattered with blood behind police tape?

Here’s a funny bit of previously unknown information for my readers: you see on this Nirvana “Bleach” poster and the line about the “Live show from 1990.” Well, that was supposed to be a live show from November 1989 that Caroline and I filmed in Hanau, Germany, but the negotiations of those trying to acquire the videos from us were so bungled on their side that we were never going to come to an amicable deal and so I refused to consider their proposal. This means that our footage, the oldest two-camera footage of Nirvana pre-fame that was shot directly in front of the stage, remains unseen.

We are at the 9th Street Path Station on our way back to New Jersey to grab the rental car from our hotel, and though it’s not the middle of the night, we have somewhere we need to be.

Okay, ready to get going after a moment or two of watching the sunset over New York City.

The seagull, too, seemed to be mesmerized.

And with this last glistening golden shot, I call it quits on this post. Tomorrow will welcome another adventure.

NYC

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

On a cold, wet, and blustery day, we left our hotel room in New Jersey shortly after daybreak for a subway ride under the Hudson River to the Christopher Street station and a walk around Greenwich Village, or “The Village” as it is known in these parts. Breakfast was at Manatus, a Greek cafe on Bleeker Street open 24/7.

We caught the major tourist attractions on our trip to New York City with the mother-in-law back in May and so this trip was more about familiarizing ourselves with the textures, layers, patterns, and atmosphere of the City. Just around the corner from our breakfast joint, we saw the world-famous Stonewall Inn. Back in 1969, the Stonewall Riots took place after this gay bar was raided, and the gay community, tired of the harassment, banded together in protest. It was here that the modern gay rights movement is considered to have begun.

Patchin Place, where the poet EE Cummings once lived, as did Marlon Brando.

I suppose this is as good a spot as any to explain something about this post, just as I have on the other blog posts around this date. When this day was first noted on my blog in 2009, there was only 1 photo and a paragraph of compressed events to capture the entire day. It’s now August 20, 2022, when I’ve returned to this entry, and I’ve added 37 other images from the day that had been languishing in hard drive storage oblivion. These things living in an unseen archive somewhere have no real value, and the fact is that it is on this blog that we most often revisit our memories. So, take this into account when you read about things that happened after 2009.

As we walked through Greenwich Village, we did so without a map or guidebook as we were looking to aimlessly wander around. When something caught our eye, we followed the impulse to know more and headed over. This time to Washington Square Park.

Fire Patrol House #2 at 84 West 3rd Street in Greenwich Village, which is now the private home of journalist Anderson Cooper.

Look closely, and you too can see the madness behind those eyes that scream, “I want it all!” Come to think about it, while I alluded to a kind of randomness of our meandering through the area, it was probably the existence of this yarn store called Purl Soho at 459 Broome Street that is the main reason for our day beginning in this part of New York City.

The common sites that are overly familiar to a resident of New York City are exotic to the eyes that don’t take for granted the things they rarely see in person. Wrought-iron staircases only exist in movies unless one is fortunate enough to be visiting this amazing place.

Lunch was at Yatagan Kebab House on MacDougal Street (today it’s Berlin Doner), where they serve authentic Doner Kebab – my first in 14 years since leaving Europe!

Could any other city on earth really aspire to be anything like New York? This place is a reflection of a country exploding economically with the industrial revolution when capital was being deployed into all corners of a vast country. Necessity demanded that those who were behind the scenes had the tools and services to work fast to catapult the United States into the future. I wonder if that will ever return to our shores and/or mindsets.

I don’t believe there’s a corner in this enormous city that doesn’t hold something of interest for those who are exploring, even the dark, ugly stuff one might want to avoid.

Somewhere between SoHo, Little Italy, and Nolita, we were heading towards Chinatown.

Mott Street in New York City between Little Italy and Chinatown

Somehow, it all makes sense when you are down in it.

Statue for Lin Zexu, hero of the First Opium Wars. Seems like a strange thing to find here on the streets of New York.

The Brooklyn Bridge that we walked across on a beautiful spring day in May with Jutta (my mother-in-law).

This city is high intensity, with a barrage of non-stop stimulation always assaulting you, and while my photos can share some of the visual density, I can do nothing about the cacophony of noise and torrents of aromas.

A seriously determined New Yorker moving over a well-worn track. I can only wonder if he notices much of the chaos that surrounds him at every intersection and in every step he takes on streets that seemed intimately familiar to him.

English-only speakers need not apply.

An Obama voter expressing his patriotism.

I can’t remember why the Nom Wah Tea Parlor wasn’t open. The sign in the window explained things, but I didn’t photograph it, and in looking up the location in 2022, I see that it’s still in business and taking reservations. This old joint has been serving dim sum and dumplings since 1920.

I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to bring myself to eat chicken head, even if it’s a succulent golden color with a yummy-looking comb.

This is the look of, “Not thrilled with this stuff.” Tried a random place in Chinatown for an early dinner that failed to satisfy and will require a little something later in the night.

Dragon cake was NOT that little something.

Nor a big bag of fruit, for that matter, but it sure is great walking busy streets that are teeming with life on a Sunday night.

Daylight was coming to an end, so we started hoofing it over Bowery Avenue and some random side streets.

Our general direction was towards Midtown for some of that indulgence on exuberance.

This wasn’t the only establishment we saw that was offering papaya drinks. While it might have been trending in New York City, it wasn’t something we ever saw in any other city across America…not that we are in them all simultaneously, but hopefully, you get the idea.

Walking into the Chelsea area of Manhattan, we came across The New York Savings Bank in one of its brief moments when it wasn’t serving some other purpose, such as a carpet and rug shop or a CVS Pharmacy. Across the street is another historic bank building about which I can’t find any information.

Rainbows & Triangles was a gay gift shop in Chelsea, but like so much of NYC, rising rents clear out diversity on the never-ending quest for total gentrification.

I love the idea of New York City even in its current incarnation.

Wow, what an iconic place, the Chelsea Hotel. I probably first learned of the Chelsea from reading Interview magazine by Andy Warhol as I was interested in The Factory and all things William Burroughs, Gregory Corso, Jack Kerouac, and Allen Ginsberg. But it was when Sid Vicious of the Sex Pistols was suspected of killing his girlfriend here that the place was cemented into my head. Maybe someday we’ll stay here, but I think that would ruin part of the allure of what it was to my imagination.

Into Times Square for a slice of pizza at Famous Famiglia with a proverbial dessert of standing around and gawking like our fellow tourists.

Join the crowd in order to better gawk at whatever comes along.

Pizza, crowds, street vendors, graffiti, and taxis.

Not to forget the lights of the big city.

Part of our gawking regimen requires us to allow our inner tourist to be fully recognized by looking above, an NYC “no-no” if you want to blend in.

Another nod to my teenage formative years that this image brings me to are the wet streets reflecting the diffused lights of the signs; this will forever have me remembering Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver with Robert De Niro.

And with that, we return to our hotel. Tomorrow, we’ll embark on another adventure right here in New York Harbor.

Independence Hall

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

The room where both the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States were signed in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Finally, after visiting Jamestown (the first English settlement in what would become the United States), Williamsburg (the first capital of the colony of Virginia), Washington, D.C. (capital of the United States from November 17, 1800, forward), New York City (first capital under the Constitution), we are now in Philly as it is affectionately known. Philadelphia was the first capital under the Articles of Confederation and a temporary one at that while the District of Columbia was under construction. This historic city is also home to the place where the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were written and signed. And so it is that early this morning we find ourselves in the very building where these famous documents were adopted – Independence Hall. We were thrilled being here, seeing the chair George Washington sat in, knowing this was the room that lent itself to the founding of this nation. We couldn’t help but be moved by the gravity of its importance.

Independence National Park in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

And that was that. Thirteen years ago, it is now August 2022 as I returned to this post to “enhance” it, that was all I had to say about the entire day. I suppose it captured the most salient point of the day, but it sure left a lot out, including all of these other photos. Barely 150 words, only 1 photo, kind of sad, but for one reason or other, it seemed enough back then. In any case, here I am, pulling a few more of the photos that lend to the visual narrative while I try to express something of a dialog that I believe might contribute to fleshing out the day for my wife and me.

Independence National Park in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

You see, on one hand, it seems weird to be embellishing history, but well, I’m still me, and if today I might write differently than I would have a dozen years ago, so be it; these are still my thoughts. And maybe they’ve matured, although today, we hear all too often that words must be taken literally and must not evolve with the times. I’m speaking of the very documents that were written right here and shaped a nation. I’m not one to argue that the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution are not perfect documents, as they were for the time, but come on, Thomas Jefferson was 33 when he tackled the Declaration of Independence, while James Madison was 36 when drafting the first part of the Constitution. I feel that the wisdom shared between these two men and those around them was greater than any collective of political leaders who’ve been trying to navigate and guide a country forward for the past 50 years.

Independence National Park in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

The day was gray and wet, but that didn’t detract from the sense of magnitude of being here at Independence National Historical Park. Back when Caroline and I first embarked on these adventures into America’s history and breadth of its lands, I don’t think we were able to anticipate the immensity of the love of America that would grow within us. We have walked in constant surprise at the incredible fortune of finding ourselves able to immerse our imaginations, memories, and appreciation at what the United States can mean to people able to find it.

Independence National Park in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Strangely enough, I’m sharing this photo for reasons that were not apparent when I took the shot. I’ve cropped away the top of the image, not because of the name John Hancock but because as I was scanning these old photos, my eye caught the name Charles Thomson in the bottom left. There’s some history in my head regarding his name: back in the 1980s, my mother here in Phoenix had her own picture-framing business, and one of her clients was a photographer who was also a bit of an adventurer, or at least in my eyes, he was. His images were taken on the slopes of faraway places in Alaska, the Grand Canyon, and in secret places found in nature that blew my mind.

Fast forward to 1995, Caroline and I moved from Frankfurt, Germany, to Phoenix, and I would run into this photographer from time to time; his name was James Thomson. One day, he and I met in Prescott, Arizona, to discuss things as we would do on occasion. He told me an interesting story about a distant relative, Charles Thomson, who had his hand in the design of the Great Seal and the founding of the country. At this point, the original photographs my mother would frame that found their way into politicians’ homes started making greater sense. We should all be so lucky to listen to stories that stay with us for years; his could have been doozies.

Independence National Park in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Even if you could go everywhere, is it worth it to you? Do you have the stamina? Do you know what you’d do with what you collected? Two hundred years ago, the honorable thing for people who traveled within themselves, in their religion, and upon new lands was to cultivate a broad potential of possibilities found when investing in knowledge used for creating great works that often endured well beyond their years. Today, we squander our lives on nonsense, trivia, TV, celebrity, and banality, a fast food mentality for the “live fast” crowd that will leave nothing behind.

Independence National Park in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

You must live for your time – not that everyone can find their place in history, but where do we place our personal efforts of growth? There’s nothing wrong with being one of the 157 million people who visit a Disney property somewhere on earth, but compare that to the 1.5 million that will visit Independence National Historical Park here in Philadelphia per year. Then again, on the good news side of things, more than 300 million people per year find their way into a National Park or Monument, so there’s that.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Come on, John, you’ve posted better selfies, but I have to whine that this was all I had with my fat head somewhat out of the frame and the Liberty Bell so out of focus that maybe some will not even recognize it. But just below…

Liberty Bell in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

…is a better-focused photo of the famous bell.

Declaration House in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Declaration House, also known as the Graff House, is where Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence. Actually, it’s a recreation that was rebuilt in 1975 for America’s Bicentennial as some small diner called Tom Thumb had replaced the old building because back then, the thought must have been, “Who needs history?”

Old City Hall in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Way back in the early days of the United States, things required a certain fluidity of the founding fathers as seats of government were moving around as needed. Take those founding documents written between 1776 and 1787 that were landmarks but as bulletproof as they proved to be; by 1789, we needed a Bill of Rights to get more of the details into proper working order. These were people who got things done.

Old City Hall in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

We in America enjoy a profound amount of freedom, opportunity, and access to everything under the sun, and all that’s required to take advantage of those luxuries is to have the ambition to get out and a bit of discipline to budget one’s self while living within certain means commensurate with income. This, though, requires moving beyond the childlike desire to indulge ourselves at the moment it feels good; collectively, we have given in to the emotions of the here and now. Compare this to the rational minds at work when our country was being formed and the men who orchestrated things, not looking at their short-term gains but at what would benefit people for generations to come. We are no longer those Americans.

The Second Bank of the United States in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

The Second Bank of the United States now acts as a portrait gallery of our revolutionary founding fathers.

City Tavern in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Alas, we do not exist on ideals alone, nor lament, I can hear my wife say under her breath, and so after our exquisite dining opportunities in Colonial Williamsburg, we jumped at the opportunity to enjoy another meal in a historic setting. Today, we’ll be taking lunch at the City Tavern, which was founded in 1773 and maintains a traditional menu dating back to the period.

City Tavern in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

You can’t go wrong with a smoked pork chop on sauerkraut topped with an egg, and we even had a basket of traditional German bread to go with it.

As a side note, City Tavern closed in 2020 due to COVID-19, and as of November 2023, it has not reopened.

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Heading to the Benjamin Franklin Museum.

Ben Franklin Museum in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Benjamin Franklin Museum.

Betsy Ross Home in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Won’t be stopping into the Betsy Ross House today as poor planning isn’t allowing the time required.

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

The historic city center of Philadelphia is just this beautiful.

The door of Edgar Allan Poe's house in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

While we did go beyond the door of the Edgar Allan Poe home, which is a National Historic Site, and even took photos there, not one of them was worthy of sharing. We made time for Poe’s home as he was one of my favorite authors back in the mid-70s, just before I entered high school.

New York City

This was the reason we didn’t have more time in Philadelphia; we were headed to New York City.

New York City

We love nature, we love history, and we love the printed word on the page, but when the time is right, we love the ecstatic lights on Broadway too.

Caroline Wise and John Wise in New York City

If the buzz on Times Square doesn’t pull you in and put a smile on your face, you must be a local.

New York City

Sure, it’s more of the same, but if you’ve ever visited this part of New York City in the middle of the night as a tourist, all you want to do is go from vantage point to vantage point and see things from all angles with the hope that some part of the Big Apple leaves with you.

New York City

Having wedding photos shot among the throngs of people on the streets would certainly make for memorable images of your big day. While our “big day” saw us in Las Vegas at midnight in the Little White Chapel, we never dreamt of much fanfare or a parade down the strip. Maybe a failure of planning, but on the other hand, we are still happily married forever.

Eastern State Penitentiary

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Fort McHenry National Monument in Baltimore, Maryland

This morning, we visited Fort McHenry here in Baltimore, Maryland.

Fort McHenry National Monument in Baltimore, Maryland

This is the place where the flag known as the Stars & Stripes flew on that fateful night of September 13th, 1814, and inspired Francis Scott Key to pen our national anthem. Visiting the fort was great and, in the historical context of our journeys through America’s history, it wove together seeing the actual flag being restored in the year 2000, seeing it on display this past May, and seeing the house where Mary Young Pickersgill sewed the flag just last month.

Fort McHenry National Monument in Baltimore, Maryland

The museum was also of tremendous benefit today as the weather was less than ideal.

Fort McHenry National Monument in Baltimore, Maryland

This display requires some explanation as it’s obvious what it is or why it’s here. You are looking at a cross-beam that once supported the flag pole holding the Star Spangled Banner. The pole is long gone and the cross-beam was thought lost as well until it was recovered by archeologists in 1958. By the way, the flag was a massive affair, 30 by 42-foot large, so the pole must have been quite large, too.

Fort McHenry National Monument in Baltimore, Maryland

The weather helped expedite us getting out of town; well, that and the fact that we are hungry and have an appointment with an indulgence that we have not yet tried with which we will soon become acquainted.

Driving between Baltimore, Maryland and Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

The city we are heading to is barely a shade over 100 miles away and famous for what we’ll be dining on, but can you call it dining? You may have guessed I have great expectations for this cuisine.

Pat's King of Steaks in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

That’s right, the world-famous Philly cheesesteak. Should you be shrieking in the silence of your mind, “No…..not Pat’s.” No sweat; tonight’s dinner will be at Geno’s Steaks.

Pat's King of Steaks in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

I think this is an acquired taste, that, or Geno’s, will prove us wrong about the cheesesteak. Two years ago, on the opposite side of Pennsylvania, we had our first encounter with Primanti Bros. and were blown away, but nobody in America is going on about those amazing sandwiches. Can cheese whiz really be that appealing to a class of people in this country who apparently have ZERO taste?

Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Continuing with our history of the United States theme this year, we are visiting Eastern State Penitentiary, built back in 1829. This National Historic Landmark was the first true penitentiary, and the design of ESP, as it’s also known, became a model for more than 300 prisons worldwide. The gargoyles are a more recent addition; they are a seasonal decoration reminding us that Halloween is nigh.

Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

WOW! That was my first impression entering prison in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; probably not very common, at least among the convicted.

Inside a crumbling jail cell at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

I want to come back already, and we’ve only been here 10 minutes. You walk into a ruin. It is the American equivalent of discovering an Egyptian tomb. The building is being allowed to crumble before your eyes.

Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

While they try to preserve what is here, they are not restoring the facility. Since 1971, when the prison ceased operations, the structure has been decaying.

Inside a crumbling jail cell at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Trees grow in some cells, rust covers everything metal, and plaster is flaking to become fine dust covering everything. The toilets sit unused in corners, and a dungeon-like feeling permeates the rotting core of this place.

Inside a crumbling jail cell at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

After the initial shock of the rawness, I started trying to see the ghosts of the men who lived and died here. Are we still able to smell the shit, piss, sweat, fear, testosterone, and desperation that once permeated these cells?

Inside a crumbling jail cell at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Maybe at one time, a man, falsely convicted, sat in that chair, pulled out the drawer to take paper and pencil (were they even allowed?) to write a loved one about his life in the oldest penitentiary in America and how everything was slipping away from him. Like the building, he grew older, fearing the walls around him would last longer than he ever could. Should a story such as this exist, the prison has an archive of “alumni” get-togethers that recorded what time was like within these now silent walls. We didn’t take advantage of this program as I was too distracted/enchanted by what I was seeing.

Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

A farmer convicted of theft became prisoner #1; he was Charles Williams and served two years here. He entered the prison hooded so as not to be able to see a way out. After he was locked behind a door, that’s where he lived in solitary confinement.

Inside a crumbling jail cell at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Times changed; guards, administrators, and prisoners would come and go, but the cold walls that contained a man’s soul never budged. For 142 years, this very cell saw possibly dozens of men live in this small windowless space or maybe only a handful if their sentences were long enough.

Inside a crumbling jail cell at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

That slot in the ceiling was the prisoner’s only source of natural light. I wonder how far the mind travels when the body is confined in such a small space and its eyes gather hints of a past that have no more reference points? What is there of the inner dialogue of a person when there is nothing left aside from looking at the same walls, door, and two hands that no longer have a purpose beyond feeding and cleaning oneself?

Inside a crumbling jail cell at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

This is a dungeon where the violence of the offender destroys himself, and the torture of the guards ensures there is no relief from the pressure of isolation that works at removing one’s last vestiges of humanity – if, in fact, they even entered this prison with any.

John Wise at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

The shadows of men still exist here, or how else does that thing that never had substance in the first place, that merely passes over the surface of things, ever really go away, and where to? After the physical form of the man who might one day leave his incarceration, recognize himself in the mirror? Is the man in the mirror in any way even reflective of who he once was, or has his inner being already looked so far away that it can never again see where it might have gone?

Inside a crumbling jail cell at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

When the day comes that you are no longer at your favorite spot when your shadow fades and the mirror is empty, what will remain? Dust is all there will be, and that too will one day be gone just as the thickest of walls and hardest of stones crumble and return to earth. The only thing that remains of humans beyond our physical existence is the memories others might carry of us and, in a few rare instances, the impact we might have made on music, art, or words.

Inside a crumbling jail cell at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

This penitentiary was built to house 300 men, but at one point, there were close to 2,000 unfortunate men stuffed within and underneath this prison. As demands for incarceration grew, authorities built cells below these grim rooms in order to literally bring people into a dungeon of dark, damp despair. Those fortunate enough to have a slot over their heads allowing at least a small amount of sunshine to offer them hope of return would be lost on the beasts dwelling in the cellar below. Visitors are not offered the opportunity to witness those chambers, either due to dangerous conditions or from the danger to their psyches, knowing that we are capable of such cruelty to our fellow man. We do not thrive in the dark; we grow in the illumination of both the day and the mind.

Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Some 75,000 people across time knew what it meant to live in such a place; none were aspiring monks on a chosen path of practicing asceticism in order to find enlightenment, philosophical guidance, or new paths. This was not a monastery where men came to meditate; on the contrary, they were on paths of fulminating on greater self-destruction and harm to others.

Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

To this day, our system of incarceration is not about saving souls or the hearts of men; it is meant to mold broken men into violent beasts that are used as exemplars of what our system of government is saving us from. The father/child relationship of the adult protecting the child is then probably the right form of conservatorship handed to the wealthy by their god to watch over the masses.

Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Charles Dickens wrote in his travel journal, American Notes for General Circulation, “In its intention, I am well convinced that it is kind, humane, and meant for reformation; but I am persuaded that those who designed this system of Prison Discipline, and those benevolent gentlemen who carry it into execution, do not know what it is that they are doing. I hold this slow and daily tampering with the mysteries of the brain to be immeasurably worse than any torture of the body, and because its ghastly signs and tokens are not so palpable to the eye,…and it extorts few cries that human ears can hear; therefore I the more denounce it, as a secret punishment in which slumbering humanity is not roused up to stay.”

Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

In those cells resounded the cries of the unheard, unseen victims wrought by abuse and neglect.

Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Here we are in modernity, and still, we cannot light the way of those destined to maybe not live within these walls but in some new prison that we desperately want to believe has moved away from a blueprint that destroyed lives. The idea that those who transgress others should be cast into the shadows of further abuse is a form of self-harm, especially coming from people who claim Christian superiority.

Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

So many photos of similar scenes were chosen for this post I had the hardest time excluding the 20-odd images that didn’t make it onto this page. Nature has a way of healing itself; what man makes only decays and falls to ruin. We do not make nature; we destroy it.

Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

We make life but ultimately harm it. If we lived the Christian ideals we profess to have, we would be a very different society with a rich culture instead of one full of fear and anger.

Inside a crumbling jail cell at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

This is where dreams go to die; it is a cemetery of lost and forgotten aspirations we refuse to acknowledge ever existed. This place is a reflection of the American soul.

Al Capone's Cell at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

And because this was the cell of our beloved Al “Scarface” Capone, we can celebrate this gangster, murderer, racketeer, pimp, tax cheat, and bootlegger by keeping his place of incarceration alive as a kind of homey room with warm lighting and obvious privilege because America is nothing if not a place to celebrate its villains through the lens of a kind of hero worship.

Barber Chair at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

I’d pay dearly to have my hair cut here as the people who once sat here were probably a lot more authentic than those who occupied the chair at my barbershop in Scottsdale, Arizona.

Death Row at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

While I have had the opportunity to visit the Parthenon in Athens, Versailles Palace in Paris, countless castles, the White House, the U.S. Capitol, and Walpi on the Hopi Reservation in northern Arizona, Eastern State Penitentiary stands out as one of the must-see buildings that pack a wallop of historical intrigue onto your senses. I leave you with this image of what remains of death row.

Geno's Steaks in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

I’m happy to say that we did not dine on the antidote to the sobering experience of having been “in prison.” I say that I’m happy to share that because eating at Geno’s Steaks was a fitting end to the grim environment of Eastern State Penitentiary. Sometimes, maintaining pain and anguish in order to learn something allows the lesson to resonate deeper and longer, and the culinary excuse made by those who claim to enjoy this Philly phenomenon of the vaunted cheesesteak can only be explained by the idea that they exist in a food penitentiary where the light of real cuisine is out of sight. Gack.