Another day, another trip to Mt. Vernon. Originally scheduled to chaperone our other activity, a series of personnel min-crises landed me back on the southbound bus. As before, the kids were delightful, however one day before a presidential inauguration is probably not the ideal time to visit the home of our first, and only unanimously-elected, president. Throngs of tourists joined us on our tour of the plantation and mansion, and subsequently the narration was rushed and disjointed.
In between rooms, I tried to fill in some of the gaps for the students I was with, both to inform them and keep them occupied as we waited. For example, waiting on the east-facing portico I swept my arm toward the wide Potomac. "A land trust owns all that property on the other side," I told them, "so that what we see will always look as much as possible like what Washington saw when he looked over there."
The kids nodded with half-interest, but as it turns out, they were not my only audience.
"He must have had a hell of an arm to get that silver dollar over there!" the guy ahead of us said.
In between rooms, I tried to fill in some of the gaps for the students I was with, both to inform them and keep them occupied as we waited. For example, waiting on the east-facing portico I swept my arm toward the wide Potomac. "A land trust owns all that property on the other side," I told them, "so that what we see will always look as much as possible like what Washington saw when he looked over there."
The kids nodded with half-interest, but as it turns out, they were not my only audience.
"He must have had a hell of an arm to get that silver dollar over there!" the guy ahead of us said.
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