Trip Peek #96
Trip #92
Chattanooga Christmas

This picture is from my 2010 Chattanooga Christmas trip. It was the second of my three visits to the Delta Queen while it operated as a stationary hotel in Chatanooga, TN. I’d spent Independence Day 2009 onboard and would return for Christmas 2012. One thing that made the trip memorable was the first Christmas Day snowfall in Chatanooga in forty-one years. In addition to the snow, I have memories of a remarkable young man named Jeremy. The unusual snow was enough to keep most employees, including the cook, at home. Jeremy was the desk clerk and apparently the only staff member on board. I’m guessing his age at about twenty. Once he realized that he was essentially on his own, Jeremy took it upon himself to break out coffee, fruit, and pastries so the passengers were fed. I was impressed.

I’d started the trip with seven members of the Gingerbread family courtesy of Ovenmaster Mary, but only the parents and two offspring remained when I took the Christmas morning photo above. I enjoyed walking through the surprise winter wonderland of Coolidge Park and nearby areas then headed home the next day. On the way, I stopped in Nashville and Bowling Green to look in on Belle Meade and the National Corvette Museum.


Trip Peeks are short articles published when my world is too busy or too boring for a current events piece to be completed in time for the Sunday posting. In addition to a photo thumbnail from a completed road trip, each Peek includes a brief description of that photo plus links to the full-sized photo and the associated trip journal.

Trip Peek #95
Trip #125
JHA Conference 2015

This picture is from my 2015 trip to the Jefferson Highway Association Conference in Muskogee, OK. The three-day conference, my first JHA event, anchored a thirteen-day trip. The outing included a bit of Route 66 and all of the Jefferson Highway in Oklahoma. I experienced some sadness on Sixty-Six as this was my first visit to the Gasconade Bridge after its 2014 closing and to Gay Parita after the death of Gary Turner, its creator, in January. The bridge’s fate is still undetermined but Gary’s daughter has stepped in to reopen the popular station for travelers. The route home included some US-82 and US-70 and Arkansas’ Dollarway Road that was built in 1914 at a dollar (actually $1.36) per foot. A personal highlight of the trip was meeting Billy Tripp of Mind Field fame.


Trip Peeks are short articles published when my world is too busy or too boring for a current events piece to be completed in time for the Sunday posting. In addition to a photo thumbnail from a completed road trip, each Peek includes a brief description of that photo plus links to the full-sized photo and the associated trip journal.

Signs of Summer (Past)

This article first appeared on May 20, 2012. Recent memories and shared pictures reminded me of the places it features so I decided to repost it as close to its anniversary as possible. With concerts, museums, travel, and other story-generating activities currently non-existent, there will likely be more of this sort of reuse before the current summer slips into the past.     

Fountain at Cincinnati Museum CenterThe fountain in front of Union Terminal, a.k.a., Cincinnati Museum Center, runs all summer and is turned off all winter. Therefore, one sure sign of summer in Cincinnati is the turning on of the fountain. That happened Friday at 10:30 AM. I had kind of hoped to see the stepped pools below the fountain go from bare concrete to a series of waterfalls right before our eyes but it wasn’t quite that dramatic. Whether the pools were primed in the interest of time or whether the standing water was simply left over from some secret testing I cannot say, but they started the day ready to overflow at the slightest provocation.

Fountain at Cincinnati Museum CenterFountain at Cincinnati Museum CenterFountain at Cincinnati Museum Center

 

 

 

I still think bare concrete morphing to cascading waterfalls would have been cooler but watching the fountain go from zilch to a spurt to a full spray wasn’t bad.

Day in Pompeii CharacterDay in Pompeii CharactersAll the kids, and there were plenty, were properly wowed and they also enjoyed the characters on hand to promote the ongoing A Day in Pompeii exhibit. I’ve seen the exhibit and it’s a duesy. University of Cincinnati Professor Steven Ellis, along with several UC students, has been instrumental in the current excavations in Pompeii and that was instrumental in making Cincinnati one of only four US cities hosting the exhibit. As you can see, security was tight.

The weather was obviously quite nice for the events at the fountain but Friday was just one of several consecutive near-perfect days. Perfect not only for fountains of water but for fountains — or taps — of root beer. I made it to three different root beer stands on three of those near-perfect days.

Jolly's Drive In, Hamilton, OhioJolly's Drive In, Hamilton, OhioOn Thursday it was the Jolly’s on the west side of Hamilton, Ohio. Back in 1938, Vinny Jolivette opened an A&W Root Beer franchise in Hamilton. He built this place in 1967 and, casting off the A&W identity, used the family name to inspire a new one for the restaurant. It’s west of the Great Miami River on Brookwood. Somewhere along the line, they added another on the east side of town on Erie. That one has a cooler sign but this one still makes its own root beer and that trumps the sign. The two remain officially connected (The car side signs carry both telephone numbers.) but are managed somewhat separately by two brothers. There is a third Jolly’s in Tiffin, Ohio, that was started, also as an A&W, in 1947 by Vinny’s brother, Roy, and it seems there was a fourth somewhere in Indiana (possibly Bloomington) but I know very little about it.

The Root Beer Stand, Sharonville, OhioThe Root Beer Stand, Sharonville, OhioI stopped by The Root Beer Stand in Sharonville, Ohio, on Friday afternoon. It started life in 1957 as an A&W then went independent in 1982. It stopped using carhops in 1972. Originally built and operated by the Rideour family, it moved on to its second and current owners, Scott & Jackie Donley, in 1990. The Donleys have kept everything pretty much the same and that definitely includes making the root beer using water from their 280 foot well. Claims that “it’s something in the water” may very well be true here.

Neil's A&W, Union City, OhioNeil's A&W, Union City, OhioI got my Saturday root beer fix at the A&W in Union City, Ohio. Despite this being a place I frequented as a teenager, I know few details of its history. I do recall that is was owned by a fellow named Smith in the 1960s and that he operated a used car lot right next door. I have vivid memories of sipping root beer and drooling over a black 1956 Thunderbird that sat in that lot when I was about seventeen. At some point, it became Neil’s A&W Drive In and so it remains today. Curiously, this place doesn’t show up on the official A&W website nor does it have its own site but it does have a FaceBook page.

All three of these places make their own root beer using at least some of the original A&W equipment. Guess that stuff was made to last. All of them taste great and I’m guessing that the recipes are all the same or similar. The Root Beer Stand has its special water and both it and Jolly’s serve their brew in chilled glass mugs. I love ’em both and I do tend to dislike chains but “real” A&Ws (Not stuffed-into-a-corner-of-a-gas-station A&Ws.) are pretty cool and it’s hard to beat an ice-covered mug.

Neil's A&W, Union City, OhioJolly's Drive In, Hamilton, OhioI’m guessing that some noticed the slightly red convertible in the center of the Root Beer Stand photo. That’s my 1963 Valiant and plans to drive it to Darke County and the A&W at the border led to the warm-up visits to Hamilton and Sharonville. The 200-mile round trip was the car’s longest outing since the cold drive home from Cambridge in early 2011. She done good. These pictures show her at Jolly’s and Neil’s.


Flipdaddys: Burgers & Beers... & BrunchI recently learned that the neighborhood Flipdaddy’s does brunch on Sundays so I walked over this morning to check it out. It was quite good. I’m always dismayed but rarely surprised to find myself alone on a restaurant’s patio. But, with the thermometer at 74 degrees, I was a little bit surprised today. Lots of people just don’t like any temperature I guess. To be fair, one couple and their home from college daughter did venture outside to eat. That was it. The restaurant was fairly busy inside but just one other outside table was ever used all the while I leisurely worked through my bacon & eggs and slowly sipped my Magic Hat dessert.

My Caboodles — Chapter 1
Corps of Discovery Forts

With the “My Wheels” series coming to at least a temporary end, this series about collections of things I’ve visited is being launched to take its place as something to be posted when my real-time world fails to produce an article. The word “caboodle” occurred to me as I was brainstorming titles and I knew it was right the instant I checked the Merriam-Webster definition. The initial chapter concerns a very small caboodle that I didn’t even think of as a group until I had completed it. During its existence, the Corps of Discovery (a.k.a. Lewis & Clark Expedition) endured three winters hunkered down inside some fairly sturdy fortifications. It was while visiting my third, their second, that I realized I’d been to all of them. As the current list of potential subjects for this series is quite small, I’m hoping some memories or realizations will magically appear to lengthen it. Especially since it is being launched during a statewide Coronavirus related “stay at home” order that prevents most of the activities that usually spawn articles here.

1. All three Corps of Discovery winter encampments functioned as forts and that’s how two of the three were identified. The one that most closely matches our common concept of a frontier fort was not. The place where the corps spent the winter of 1803-4 was named Camp River Dubois. I’m guessing that the word “fort” was not used because the location was near Saint Louis in relatively civilized territory. It was here that they prepared for the journey that would begin in earnest in May of 1804. I visited the site less than a month after the two-hundredth anniversary of that beginning. This structure, as well as the others, is a modern recreation. The originals rotted away long ago.

2. In 2008, I found myself on the Oregon coast where the expedition spent its third and final winter away from home. Like many travelers today, Lewis and Clark would spend less time returning from their destination than reaching it and avoid a fourth winter lockdown. In their case, more downstream travel and less getting lost helped considerably. They had traveled as far west as they could and turned their footsteps to the east when they departed Fort Clatsop in the spring of 1806.

3. It was nearly eight years later when I unexpectedly realized that I was only about thirty miles from Fort Mandan and an associated Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center. I made the short detour, of course, and was able to look over an accurate reproduction of the expedition’s quarters during the winter of 1804-5. The explorers found the fort had been burned to the ground when they passed by here on their way home.

While studying a timeline of the expedition at the Fort Mandan site, it struck me that I had now visited all three of the Corps of Discovery’s wintering locations. Now, three-plus years later, when I needed a new supply of posts that could be made without regard for the date, I chose this set of visits, spread over a dozen years, as the subject for the first of the series. The actual visits are here (Camp River Dubois), here (Fort Clatsop), and here (Fort Mandan).

Trip Peek #94
Trip #69
Labor Day 2008

This picture is from my 2008 Labor Day trip. Although the trip eventually included wonderful experiences in Point Pleasant, WV (Mothman), and Marietta, OH (Lafayette Hotel), the highlight of the trip occurred right at its beginning. I took the photo at right about fifteen miles from home at the Crabfest in Blanchester, OH. That’s Gene Sullivan landing next to the spike of a 68-foot horseshoe crab after jumping over its body and through the “flaming gates of Hell”. Crabfest is no more, and neither, apparently is the church that sponsored it. But Gene and the crab survive. The crab has been moved about twenty-five miles east to Hillsboro, and Gene, at 73, has, or at least had, a 50th anniversary “Jump for Jesus” tour planned for the summer of 2020. I could find no current information on the tour so do not know whether it has been canceled or postponed by the coronavirus pandemic or has been affected by something else.


Trip Peeks are short articles published when my world is too busy or too boring for a current events piece to be completed in time for the Sunday posting. In addition to a photo thumbnail from a completed road trip, each Peek includes a brief description of that photo plus links to the full-sized photo and the associated trip journal.

Trip Peek #93
Trip #114
Battle of Lake Erie Bicentennial

This picture is from my 2013 trip to the Battle of Lake Erie Bicentennial. Even though the anniversary of the battle was the trigger for the trip, it would be over and I would be back home before the date actually arrived. The battle took place on September 10, 1813. A reenactment occurred on September 2, 2013. Watching the reenactment required a ticket that I’d waited too long to buy so I did a “bicentennial light”. I took two ferry rides to Put-In-Bay checking out Perry’s Victory Monument on one trip and a reproduction of the Niagara, Perry’s flagship, on the other. Onboard for the second trip was a Commodore Perry reenactor who provided considerable history. There was a day between the rides which I spent exploring Sandusky, Ohio. The picture shows both the Niagra and the monument.

When I left Sandusky, I headed to Canada to explore some of the sites connected with the Battle of the Thames in which Tecumseh was killed less than a month after the Battle of Lake Erie. I returned to the states to cover the bits of Michigan’s Dixie Highway that remained undriven by me. All of that had been planned before I left home. The trip’s unplanned bonus (Every trip should have at least one.) was in Canada. I stayed at a very nice B & B near Buxton National Historic Site. That this was “A Terminus of the Underground Railroad” was cool enough, but the fact that the 90th annual reunion was taking place while I was there was an extraordinary piece of luck.


Trip Peeks are short articles published when my world is too busy or too boring for a current events piece to be completed in time for the Sunday posting. In addition to a photo thumbnail from a completed road trip, each Peek includes a brief description of that photo plus links to the full-sized photo and the associated trip journal.

My Wheels — Chapter 41
The Wheels So Far

This series has reached a pause. Even though the forty vehicles I’ve owned to date have all been covered, I don’t think that the My Wheels series is truly at an end. I suspect I’ll buy something else someday. It does, however, seem like a good time for a look back and a bit of a summary. Because of a goof in sequencing, the earliest and most recent chapters both featured bicycles. They are the only two bicycles in the series although I actually owned a couple of used bicycles prior to purchasing the J.C.Higgins. In between were five motorcycles, one truck, and thirty-two automobiles. The autos varied greatly in details, but all had four wheels as did the truck. Therefore, the current count of wheels in My Wheels is 146.

Despite being separated by nearly forty years, there was only one significant difference, other than color, between the two bicycles. The 1997 Schwinn has seven gears; The 1960 Higgins just one.

The motorcycles varied quite a bit for the small sample size. Three came from Japan, one from Germany, and one from the U.S.A. Three had chains, one a driveshaft, and one was belt-driven (with pedals). There were two inline twins, one boxer twin, and two single-cylinder models. There was even one 2-cycle in the mix. Color-wise there were two reds, one maroon, one black, and one blue. Each came from a different manufacturer: Whizzer, Honda, Suzuki, BMW, Yahama.

The lone truck was a gray Chevy van. Powered by a V8 with an automatic transmission, its crude self-made camper like interior held as many people as could tolerate sitting on the floor or the bed.

I’ve applied all the same grouping to the autos as I did with the motorcycles plus a couple of additions. I haven’t overrefined things. For country, I’ve used the country where the manufacturer is headquartered which might not be where the specific car was built. For capacity, I started with the idea of calling everything either 4 or 2 passenger even though some of the older cars with bench seats routinely handled 5 or 6 but quickly realized that I was really just dividing them on whether or not they had a rear seat. I also simplified body style categories. I did not distinguish between SUVs, station wagons, hatchbacks. or any more subtle variations. Anything with a top that folded or was removable is a convertible. Any fixed-roof car with a trunk and usable rear seat is a hardtop. With neither trunk or usable rear seat, it’s a coupe and with a rear seat but no trunk it’s a wagon. Yes, whether or not a rear seat is usable is a matter of opinion and in my opinion, the rear seats in ’94 Camaros and GEO Storms of any year are not generally usable.

Here’s the breakdown starting with characteristics having the fewest variations. There were 27 cars with rear seats and 5 without. 20 cars had four doors and 12 had two. 29 cars had their engine in the front while 3 were rear-engined. 22 cars were driven by the rear wheels, 7 by the front wheels, and 3 by all four.

Style
15 Hardtop
7 Convertible
6 Wagon
4 Coupe

Color
12 Blue
5 Red
4 Green
4 Gray
3 White
2 Black
1 Brown
1 Yellow

Engine (I=inline, F-flat, R=rotary)
9 V8
9 I4
6 I6
3 V6
2 F4
2 F6
1 R

Transmission (A=automatic, M=manual, CV=continously variable)
7 3A
6 3M
6 4M
6 5M
3 4A
2 6M
1 2A
1 CV

Make
13 Chevrolet
3 Ford
2 Dodge
2 Mazda
2 Plymouth
2 Renault
2 Subaru
1 Acura
1 Audi
1 Austin-Healey
1 Buick
1 Mercury
1 Opel

Country
22 USA
5 Japan
2 France
2 Germany
1 England

There have been more Chevys than anything else. The most common color has been blue. Based on history, my ideal car must be a blue rear-wheel-drive Chevy two-door hardtop with a V8 and automatic. There is exactly one car on the list that meets those specs. It’s the 1970 Chevelle castoff by my former mother-in-law that I owned for less than a year. I’d not thought of it as ideal when I owned it and I’m not buying into that now.

The blue Chevelle was, like so many I’ve owned, simply a car that was available and affordable when I needed one. The only exceptions are the two vehicles I ordered from the factory. All the others were either used or sitting on a lot after being built to someone else’s specifications. That those two built-to-order rides are almost as different from each other as possible is pretty good proof that there is no single ideal vehicle for most people. Ideals change.

The first vehicle I custom ordered was the 1979 truck. I was in my early thirties and my boys, although they did not live with me at the time, were eight and ten. I and several friends were into camping and that was the van’s purpose. It was fairly well-optioned in some respects. I checked off A/C, cruise, etc, but no interior options including radio. I installed my own sound system, replaced the single cargo van seat with a pair of captain’s chairs, and built out the empty space for camping.

It would be nearly twenty years before I’d fill out another order sheet. By then, the kids were grown and gone and I had moved from a four-bedroom house to a two-bedroom condo. The 1998 Corvette reflected that. I sprung for a convertible, 6-speed manual transmission (auto was standard), Z51 suspension, and upgraded sound and climate control systems. The van and the ‘Vette were both Chevys but their option lists looked nothing alike.

So this will be the last My Wheels chapter until a new vehicle comes along. It’s a series that isn’t published often (These forty-one chapters were spread over more than seven years.) so maybe that will happen before you even notice the pause but I think it’s going to be a while.

My Wheel chapters can be seen in total here or individually through the following links:
Chapter 1 1960 J. C. Higgins Flightliner
Chapter 2 1948/9 Whizzer
Chapter 3 1953 Chevrolet
Chapter 4 1954 Mercury
Chapter 5 1952 Ford
Chapter 6 1959 Chevrolet
Chapter 7 1961 Renault 4CV
Chapter 8 1957 Austin Healey
Chapter 9 Honda 65
Chapter 10 1964 Corvair
Chapter 11 1967 Dodge
Chapter 12 1961 Falcon
Chapter 13 1966 Suzuki
Chapter 14 1965 Barracuda
Chapter 15 1969 Opel Kadett
Chapter 16 1962 Chevy II
Chapter 17 1965 Corvair
Chapter 18 1971 Vega
Chapter 19 1970 Chevrolet Nova
Chapter 20 1972 Audi 100 LS
Chapter 21 1979 Chevrolet G10
Chapter 22 1970 Chevelle
Chapter 23 1972 BMW R75
Chapter 24 1983 Renault Alliance
Chapter 25 1985 Buick Century
Chapter 26 1986 Acura Legend
Chapter 27 1985 Mazda RX7
Chapter 28 1978? Yamaha 400
Chapter 29 1991 Geo Storm
Chapter 30 1992 Chevrolet Lumina
Chapter 31 1994 Chevrolet Camaro
Chapter 32 1986 Ford Bronco II
Chapter 33 1998 Chevrolet Corvette
Chapter 34 2003 Pontiac Vibe
Chapter 35 2006 Chevrolet Corvette
Chapter 36 1963 Plymouth Valiant
Chapter 37 2011 Subaru Forester
Chapter 38 2003 Mazda Miata
Chapter 39 2018 Subaru Forester
Chapter 40 1997 Schwinn

Book Review
Headley Inn and Cliff Rock House
Cyndie L. Gerken

Cyndie Gerken’s third big helping of National Road knowledge was served up a bit more than a year ago, and I have no good excuse, or even enough bad ones, to account for waiting so long to take a look. Of course, once I did, the same accuracy and thoroughness that marked her earlier books were instantly apparent in this one. In 2015, she documented Ohio’s National Road mile markers with Marking the Miles Along the National Road Through Ohio.  In 2018, Taking the Tolls Along the National Road Through Ohio told of the toll gates that operated after the federal government rid itself of the highway by giving it to the states through which it passed. Both books took a deep and wide look at their subjects although that phrase did not occur to me until I was well into the current volume.

Those other books were geographically wide because they involved the whole state of Ohio, and they were also wide in the variety of information they included on their subjects. Depth came from the layers of time and degree of detail covered. Headley… isn’t nearly as wide geographically (The two buildings in the title are barely 300 feet apart.), but it does include the passing road and nearby towns, and the information variety is every bit as wide as in the first two offerings. The detail component of depth is at least equal to that of the earlier books and the time component is considerably greater. The period covered by all three begins at roughly the same time but the story of the two inns has yet to end.

Physically the latest book is much like the others. All are largish paperbacks printed in color. All include a brief overview of the history of the National Road that provides context for the rest of the book. Headley…‘s introduction also includes information on the surrounding area and the role of early roadside inns and taverns.

Both of the book’s subjects appeared almost immediately after the National Road passed by the land they would occupy. The first section of the Cliff Rock House was completed in 1830 and the Headley Inn’s first section in 1833. Other dates have appeared in articles and even on signs but Gerken sorts through the various claims and presents a solid case for these dates. Both structures have been enlarged and modified over the years. Despite their nearness to each other, the inns were constructed and operated independently by two separate families. That has not always been the case although it is again today.

It is generally thought that the Headley Inn initially served as a stagecoach stop while the larger Cliff Rock House catered more to drovers herding sheep and other animals to market. That sort of division was never iron clad, of course, but that kind of thinking does serve to justify the two businesses being so close.

The two periods of glory experienced by the two taverns naturally coincide with the glory days of the passing road. They prospered in the early eighteenth century doing what they were constructed for: serving travelers on the new National Road. Gerken digs deep into public records and family histories to tell the story of this period. Prosperity ended with the coming of the railroad.

Prosperity returned in the early part of the next century when traffic returned to the road out front. This time the customers were carried by automobiles. Alexander Smith, who had built the Cliff Rock House, added the Headley Inn to his holdings in 1857. In 1922, two of his granddaughters opened a restaurant and tearoom in the former stagecoach stop. The old National Road had become part of the National Old Trails Road. Its traffic, and the sisters’ culinary skills, made the tea room a nationally known success. Like they did elsewhere, the interstates of the last half of the twentieth century pulled traffic from the old road and might have ended this second round of glory if the sisters had not already ended it by retiring and closing the restaurant in 1961.

Gerken also uses public records to tell of the tearoom period but they form a much smaller part of the story. There is considerable family documentation available, including photographs, and, more significantly, she has access to quite a bit of living memory of the era. The most important source of that living memory is the son of one of those sisters, Alexander Smith Howard. He not only shared stories that appear throughout the book, he also wrote its foreword.

Living memory provides even more input to the post-tearoom era and here the living memory is sometimes Gerken’s own although it is more often her personal interviews with the short series of owners. The book is heavily illustrated with historical photos, maps, diagrams, newspaper clippings, and more. Modern photos include many taken by the author herself.

For the third time, an era of glory early in a new century is a definite possibility. Major restoration of the Headley Inn was accomplished by Stephen and Bernadine Brown during their 1989 to 2006 ownership. It continued under Alan and Patricia Chaffee until 2015. The current owners, Brian and Carrie Adams, along with their daughter Ashley, have added their own historically sensitive improvements and now operate a bed and breakfast with facilities for weddings and other gatherings. In 2018, Cliff Rock House was purchased by Otto and Sally Luburgh and restoration work is now underway there.

I know that this book’s true value lies in its collection of facts, photos, and carefully researched history. It is unequaled in that regard. Much of its readability, however, comes from the stories that fill the background and cluster around the edges. From the story of the Headly Inn’s original owner verbally abusing federal troops early in the Civil War, and tales of tearoom employees drawing straws to determine who had to brave snakes in the attic to retrieve supplies, to reports of elephants appearing — both expected and not — in front of the inn, there are plenty of human interest style anecdotes to balance the solid and valuable historical facts.

Headley Inn and Cliff Rock House: A Storied History of Two Taverns Along Ohio’s National Road, Cyndie L. Gerken, Independently published, March 20, 2019, 11 x 8.5 inches, 378 pages, ISBN 978-1790228089
Available through Amazon.

It’s Easter (Again)

This post first appeared last year. It is being reused due in part to 2020’s reduced mobility and (apparently) creativity. Articles in USA Today and elsewhere, include Root Beer Float in a list of five new Peeps flavors but, as can be seen below and in the original post, the flavor was already around in 2019. Hot Tamales Fierce Cinnamon, on the other hand, really does appear to be making its debut this year.


Today is Easter. I know that because I looked it up on the internet. It was easy. It was easy in the early days, too. Easter was originally simply the Sunday of Passover week. Since most early Christians had once been Jews, they just naturally knew when Passover was. Even those that had converted to Christianity directly from Druidism probably had some Jewish friends they could ask. Easy, peasy. Too easy, it seems, for some.

Things changed in 325 at the First Council of Nicaea. Maybe the priests felt threatened by pretty much everybody knowing when Easter was without asking. Or maybe the astronomers, who might have been the same guys, were feeling left out. Or maybe the priests just weren’t all that happy having a Christian holiday tied so tightly to a Jewish one. So, they tied it, instead, to the moon and the sun.

Their starting point was the vernal equinox when the sun is directly above Earth’s equator and day and night are of equal length. Next was a full moon which occurs when the surface visible to Earth is completely illuminated by the sun. These two events are not synchronized. A vernal equinox happens every 365.24 days; A full moon every 29.53 days. But even the most radical of the Nicaea councilors dared not mess with the idea that Easter was a Sunday thing. That meant that a mostly arbitrary period of seven days and the completely arbitrary selection of one of the seven were overlaid on the two asynchronous sun and moon events. Henceforth, Easter would be celebrated on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox.

That probably sounds a bit involved and confusing to many people today let alone 4th-century peasants. Come spring of 326, priests were no doubt busy letting the laity know when they should hide their eggs and have relatives over for baked ham.

In the centuries since, alternate sources of the information have proliferated. Asking a priest continues to be an option, but one that has been unnecessary since sometime in the 20th century when the majority of refrigerators became covered by calendars — with Easter marked in red — from every merchant and insurance agent in the area. The time saved has been put to good use finding ways to enhance the Easter experience. A Lego bunny and never before seen colored and flavored Peeps are available for 2019. And scheduling egg hunts has become even easier. “Hey Google. When’s Easter?”

Book Review
Overground Railroad
Candacy Taylor

“This is not a book about the history of road-tripping and black travel”, is the first sentence of the last paragraph of the introduction. That’s something I knew long before I read it. It was something Candacy Taylor said early in the presentation I attended in Indianapolis back in February. It may even have been something she said during another presentation of hers I attended back in 2016. I discovered Taylor the same way she discovered the Green Book. Well, not exactly the same way. She learned of the Green Book while doing research for a Moon Travel Guide on Route 66. I learned of Candacy Taylor as a mere attendee at a conference on the historic road. Research for the book was well underway when Taylor spoke at that conference in Los Angeles but Overground Railroad: The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America was still a concept. It was a reality when she spoke in Indianapolis, and that’s where I acquired my copy.

Another phrase that caught my ear at the Indianapolis presentation and which I subsequently read in the book is this: “I wasn’t interested in presenting the Green Book as a historic time capsule.” Maybe the reason I noticed the phrase was that, without actually being aware of it, that is exactly how I saw the Green Book. The book, published between 1936 to 1967, identified businesses where Negro travelers were welcome. A too often true assumption was that they were not welcome in any place not listed. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 did not make racial discrimination disappear, but it did make it illegal. By the time I became aware of the book, it had not been published for decades and I figured it had been more or less the same throughout the time it was published. In my mind, the Green Book essentially was a historic time capsule.

The book was no doubt historic, but it was not a sealed capsule. If pressed, I would have known that the book must have grown over the years and that listings and advertisers would have come and gone. Taylor meant much more than that. There were changes in the book’s overall tone that were related to changes in society and vice versa. She uses changes in the Green Book as a timeline to frame changes in the world at large. It isn’t a hard link and the two certainly don’t move in lockstep. Societal changes just aren’t that tidy. But the editions of Victor Green’s book pace the chapters in Taylor’s.

One of the bigger Green Book changes Taylor covers occurred with its return at the end of the Second World War. The guide was not published during the war, and when it returned in 1946 it was bigger and better than ever. Not only was the book enlarged, its tone was changed a bit, too. Serious articles about the situation of blacks in American society appeared along with information, such as a listing of black colleges, not exactly associated with travel. In a chapter based on the 1946 and ’47 editions, Taylor says, “This comprehensive list of colleges elevated the Green Book from a travel guide to a political weapon.”

Another big step came in 1952 when the guide’s name was changed from the Negro Motorist Green Book to the Negro Travelers Green Book. Train travel by blacks had already been included starting in 1950. Travel by airplane and other means would be covered in the future.

In a chapter linked to the 1957 and ’58 editions, Taylor addresses what is almost certainly a big reason she felt the need to stress that, “This is not a book about the history of road-tripping.” The chapter is titled “The Roots of Route 66”, and she uses Route 66 examples to explain why blacks have virtually no nostalgia for the classic American road trip, but the story is essentially the same for every other highway, too. While it’s very much an understatement, the following line does sort of sum up the chapter: “[T]he experience of driving Route 66 was not the same for everyone.”

Overground Railroad is heavily illustrated. Taylor’s research for this project included cataloging and visiting businesses listed in the Green Book, and several of her photographs of sites that remain appear throughout the book. She also includes some personal photos. Numerous historic photos along with reproductions from the Green Book accompany the text. A section in the back of the book lists surviving “Green Book sites” and includes Taylor’s photos of many. It is followed by a section with reproductions of every known Green Book cover other than the very first edition of 1936.

Victor Green hoped that “There will be a day sometime in the near future when this guide will not have to be published.” That day came, technically, when the 1964 Civil Rights Act became law. There was just one more Green Book published before it shut down permanently. But reality has never quite matched the technical equality of the Civil Rights Act. The first chapter of Taylor’s book, in which she discusses the risks and difficulties of Negroes driving during the early years of the Green Book, is titled “Driving While Black”. It’s a title that could have come from yesterday’s newspaper. Maybe it did. In her introduction, Taylor asks the standard road trip question, “Are we there yet?” then answers with a whole book that tells of progress but ends up with a solid “No.” It is not, however, a hopeless “No”. The “Author’s Note” near the book’s end talks of the challenge and is followed by a “What We Can Do” list.

Overground Railroad: The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America, Candacy Taylor, Harry N. Abrams, January 7, 2020, 9.8 x 7 inches, 360 pages, ISBN 978-1419738173
Available through Amazon.