Caroline in NYC – Day 1

The view from Caroline Wise's hotel in New York City

Caroline had to fly out today for a business meeting in the New York area. She was traveling with coworkers Mike (owner of the company) and Ashley. After arriving, they checked into their hotel, the Doubletree Hilton on Times Square. This is her view.

Caroline Wise fascinated by the sink at the Doubletree Hilton on Times Square in New York City

Fascinated by the sink.

Caroline Wise's work setup while on a business trip in New York City at the Doubletree Hilton on Times Square

The reminder of where my wife sat while she was chatting with me back in Arizona. Caroline will be gone two more days, and as business trips are, there is little to no room for sightseeing. That’s not to say there won’t be fun; she is traveling with Mike, who has a penchant for enjoying the nicer places such as the hippest trendy bars and hottest restaurants.

In The Crown

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

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

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.

South to the Amishland

Wales Center, New York

We left Buffalo, New York, early this morning with half a cold Bocce Club pizza wrapped in foil and ready for breakfast. As typical of our travels, we meandered through the countryside, bypassing the speedier highway for more relaxed rural sightseeing. This photo was taken near Wales Center, just southeast of Buffalo; we are on the US-20A.

We have over 300 miles to cover today as we position ourselves closer to Baltimore, Maryland, from where we’ll fly home.

Along the way, we spotted a camel – what in the world is a camel doing living on a farm in New York?

Maybe it’s feasting on the beautiful flowers?

The sheep seemed right at home, though.

So, after Jamestown, Colonial Williamsburg, Mount Vernon, D.C., New York City, and Waterloo, New York, where Memorial Day began, we’ve now been to Mt. Morris, home of Francis Bellamy, who wrote the Pledge of Allegiance. At this time, we are traveling on NY-36 and avoiding the toll roads.

I’ve probably said it a hundred times before, but you don’t get to stop to admire brooks, sheep, camels, or flowers from the freeways or thru-ways as they are known in New York.

Obviously not seen from a main highway.

Ice Cream Island in Dansville, New York, with John and Jutta, though I spy a cone in my left hand for Caroline. I know it’s hers because I’m the vanilla man while she’s the “Anything-but-vanilla woman.”

The more we see of New York away from its big cities, the more it feels like New York State is one of the most beautiful in America. While every state we visit has some inherent natural beauty, and it would be near impossible to briefly quantify here in this short paragraph what those distinguishing characteristics are that have me feeling that New York stands out; it just seems to be that way.

Caroline Wise and Jutta Engelhardt in Tioga, Pennsylvania

It wasn’t long before we arrived at the Pennsylvania state border and stopped at a visitors center with one of the best views of any state visitors center we have seen so far.

Near Tioga, Pennsylvania

Perched high above a river valley, on this clear day, you could see far and wide; only a panorama would have done the sight justice. A super-friendly employee at this roadside information treasure trove directed us to some beautifully scenic small roads to take on our way to the Lancaster, Pennsylvania, area.

Loyalsock Avenue in Montoursville, Pennsylvania

As we approached this famous Amish region, the forested roads gave way to idyllic pastoral farms. Hmmm, is this some kind of foreshadowing?

Jutta Engelhardt pointing out Mausdale, Pennsylvania

Jutta had to have this photo of her pointing to Mausdale because her daughter Stephanie might get a laugh about seeing this. You see, Stephanie’s nickname is Maus, which in English is mouse, so you could read this as Mouseville.

Rural Pennsylvania

The Amish are near.

Rural Pennsylvania

I could have tried to get a better shot of Mill Creek Dam, but this is what I got. When you live in a desert, things like flowing water hold magical appeal.

Amish girls in Leacock Township, Pennsylvania

The wheels made of wood and steel belts combined with the clopping sound of the horseshoes can seem loud, and then there are the horse farts along with the poo that falls out right before your face, but still, this form of transportation seems like a lot of fun if you don’t have a hundred miles to cover. It’s too bad there are no parallel roads, so the Amish don’t have to share roads with cars. Regarding the comment about loudness, I’ve never seen an Amish buggy feature a booming sound system that rattles nearby buggies.

Leacock Township, Pennsylvania

This is the Mascot Roller Mills & Ressler Family Home, built back in 1737 in Ronks, Pennsylvania.

Leacock Township, Pennsylvania

We are in the heart of Lancaster County, where the presence of the Amish is felt everywhere.

Amish man plowing his field in rural Pennsylvania

If there’s daylight, there’s time for work.

Amish farm in rural Pennsylvania

If it looks quiet out there, it’s because there are no machines, no electricity, no TV, no video games, not even the internet.

Rural Pennsylvania

By now, we have passed a number of black horse-drawn buggies moving members of the Amish community down the same roads shared by those of us in our speeding cars.

Amish farm in rural Pennsylvania

After our guilty stops to gawk at these folks living their lives in a fishbowl, we head over to one of the many Amish-style restaurants out this way to stuff ourselves with all-you-can-eat family-style dinner and then check in to our motel.

Amish man with two of his children behind a team of horses pulling a plow on their farm in Pennsylvania

Just as the sun is setting over Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania, the sun is about to set on our two-week vacation here in the North Atlantic states. Tonight, we get in early to start rearranging our bags for tomorrow’s flight back to Arizona. Two dozen books, a dozen refrigerator magnets, yarn, thimbles, and various other souvenirs will be packed up and ready to go. No lamenting the end of this trip, though, as it has been nothing less than perfect. Plus, we still have two more things to do from our itinerary tomorrow.

Niagara Falls

Why Coffee Shop in Niagara Falls, New York

The cheapest room I could find in the Buffalo, New York, area, well, not the cheapest as that would also be the sketchiest, so I’ll clarify: the cheapest room in a reasonable area was over in the city of Niagara Falls. For under $100 a night, we were as close to Canada as we could be without paying Canadian rates, where it’s more expensive because it’s safe and clean over there. We were able to have some sense that things weren’t as bad around here and hopefully safer than in Buffalo.

Update: In 2020, the Rodeway Inn we stayed at on Main Street was removed from the face of the Earth; I guess we have a knack for choosing places that are close to being condemned. 

Caroline Wise and Jutta Engelhardt at the Why Coffee Shop in Niagara Falls, New York

The Why Coffee Shop is probably the cheapest place we’ll ever eat breakfast ever again in our lifetimes. There might have been something on the menu that cost more than $5.00, but the majority of plates were averaging about $3.50; I’m not joking. And no, coffees weren’t $4.99 to make up for the low prices. Then again, it doesn’t appear that anything’s changed since they first opened in 1979.

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise at Niagara Falls

The third time was the charm; that was how many times we had to try to get on the Maid of the Mist at Niagara Falls. The first time we came here was in the year 2000. It was November, and the season was over. Two years ago, when we arrived in springtime when the Maid of the Mist should have already been running, there was still ice on the river and on the falls that was delaying opening day – and our schedule didn’t allow us to hang out until things cleared. So, nearly a decade after our first attempt, we are on the river, about to see the falls from a whole new perspective.

Niagara Falls

Still early in the day, we are under a thick gray cloud layer that is supposed to give way to a beautiful blue sky, just not yet. We are on the first boat of the day, going out to meet the crashing falls. As a youngster, I was not able to appreciate this as much as I am today. Watching the churning waters, feeling the stinging mist being shot off the rocks as the water from above plummets 183 feet (55.8m), and the deafening roar makes for a ride equal to the best rollercoaster.

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise at Niagara Falls

I only wish I had been better prepared for the amount of water that is everywhere. I thought being downstairs on the boat would offer us at least some protection so I could snap off a few photos, but that was not going to happen as there’s no such thing as “dry” down at the foot of the falls. From the smiles, you can tell that this was super fun.

Niagara Falls

Wouldn’t you know it, we start to leave for Canada, and the skies start to clear. Maybe the depression that is Buffalo also attracts the bad weather.

Niagara Falls

I think I’ve written this elsewhere, but the city of my birth has been in decline since before I was born, which is tragic as it was at one time an economically and culturally successful city, but there’s nothing like racism, intolerance, and lack of imagination to destroy the things that once were an example to a country. Enough said.

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise at Niagara Falls

After the thrill ride on the Maid of the Mist, we walked over the Rainbow Bridge to Canada for a better view of the Horseshoe Falls.

Niagara Falls

Our timed ticket for Journey Behind The Falls and The Cave of Winds was more than an hour away, so why not eat first?

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise at Niagara Falls

And in an instant, the sun comes out to warm our faces…

Niagara Falls

…before helping all the flowers bloom just for us because that’s the way life is in Canada.

Niagara Falls

Time to eat, and then we head down there.

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise at Niagara Falls

After lunch at Elements on the Falls, we got in line to await our turn, going down the elevator with rain ponchos in hand.

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise at Niagara Falls

Standing in the Cave of Winds, we watched subtly shifting patterns of changing brightness and shadow depending on the volume of water and its vertical depth directly in front of us fall from above and, in an instant, be gone and simultaneously replaced by the ever-flowing, roaring waters that mesmerizes us into not wanting to give way for another visitor to have their chance to gaze into this moment of amazement.

Niagara Falls

Outside, we are standing next to the foot of the falls that tower overhead, dropping tons of water not far from our very heads.

Niagara Falls

Yep, we were that close.

Jutta Engelhardt at Niagara Falls

I can easily say that I believe I’ll never see a scowl on my mother-in-law’s face as the adventures of the three of us have filled her with eternal happiness.

Niagara Falls

Spilling out of Lake Erie, the waters now known as Niagara River will flow onwards to Lake Ontario prior to becoming the St. Lawerence River, only to drain into the Atlantic Ocean up around Nova Scotia and Newfoundland.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Niagara Falls

All the Canadians apologized and moved out of view when they realized we were taking a selfie; the rest of the people behind us were obviously not Canadians.

Niagara Falls

Back above the falls, the sky is now clear with the sun and mist in the air, delivering rainbows that flash into existence and fade, adding icing to the cake we are enjoying today. Jaded we are not; our sense of wonderment is alive, healthy, giddy even.

Niagara Falls

Time to leave Canada and Niagara Falls – for the moment.

Caroline Wise, Jutta Engelhardt, Brian and Lillian Marynowski, with John Wise in Buffalo, New York

South of Niagara Falls is Grand Island on the Niagara River and on Grand Island is Beaver Park. It is here on this Memorial Day that we meet up with my Aunt Lillian and her son, my cousin, Brian Marynowski. Lillian was named after her grandmother, Luba, who I mentioned in yesterday’s post.

Buffalo, New York

Brian’s kids, Jonathan and Jacob, were at the park, too, but we hardly saw them since they were busy playing. It was already late in the day, and after their traditional day-long picnic with friends and family, it was nearly time to wrap things up as we were arriving.

Leaving the park, we drove to Eggertsville where my aunt Lillian lives in the same house she grew up with my father and my grandparents. It’s difficult to catch up with just a few hours to visit, but we had a great time bringing my mother-in-law into a short version of my family history, and she enjoyed meeting my aunt and cousin.

Niagara Falls

A few photos ago, I wrote that we had to leave Niagara Falls – for the moment. Well, I knew that after our family get-together Caroline, Jutta, and I were going back to the falls for a night-time view.

Niagara Falls

And it just so happened that on Sundays and Fridays, there are firework shows at the Falls, and since this is Sunday it really is our lucky day (or, rather, night).

Niagara Falls

Not bringing my tripod with me limited the opportunity to take proper fireworks or waterfall photos, but I did manage to get this halfway decent photo of the falls before calling it a night.

Niagara Falls

Standing over Hell’s Half Acre, the rapids just upstream of the American Falls, between Luna and Goat Islands.