My Caboodles — Chapter 5
Preble County Covered Bridges

The Caboodles series was conceived as something to fill in otherwise empty weeks with subjects from completed outings. But, like every other rule connected with this blog, that was far from ironclad, and about halfway through Tuesday’s visits to the eight covered bridges in nearby Preble County, I realized that I would have a legitimate caboodle at day’s end. I decided to use the designation in the weekly post to create the blog’s first-ever real-time caboodle.

Once upon a time, there were approximately 3,500 covered bridges in Ohio. More than 95% of them are gone but that still leaves nearly 150 standing. Eight of those are just to my north in Preble County. On Tuesday, I headed to the county seat of Eaton and had breakfast at the cleverly named and jam-packed Eaton Place where I’m quite certain the waitresses knew everybody’s name but mine. From there I headed to the nearest of the bridges barely a mile away.

1. Roberts Covered Bridge is one of only two Preble County Covered Bridges that are closed to traffic but its claims to celebrity go far beyond that. It is one of only six remaining double-barreled covered bridges in the country and is the oldest of those. The only covered bridge of any sort that is older is the Hyde Hall Covered Bridge in New York, and it is older by a mere four years. Roberts Bridge, obviously the oldest in Ohio, was built in 1929. The Hyde Park Bridge was built in 1825. The bridge was moved here in 1990 from its original location south of Eaton.

2. I’d entered approximate coordinates for each of the bridges into my GPS and proceeded to visit them by heading to whichever was closest. That method next took me to the Christman Bridge a little north of Eaton. Numerous bridges were damaged by a major storm in 1886, and one man, Everett S. Sherman, was contracted to rebuild fifteen of them. That helps explain why the Roberts Bridge is the only pre-1886 bridge standing and also explains why six of the currently standing bridges were built by Sherman. He built this one in 1895

3. The Geeting Covered Bridge was built in 1894 to replace a ford and foot log over Price’s Creek. Floor beams have been broken by overloaded trucks and in 1969 an over-height truck took out some of the roof but the bridge has been repaired every time.

4. It’s fairly obvious that this is the other currently standing bridge not open to traffic. The Dixon’s Branch Covered Bridge does remain quite useful, however, having been moved to the Lewisburg Community Park and put to work as a shelter house. Although there is a parking area right next to the bridge, I initially missed it and ended up walking across much of the park from another lot. That was actually a good thing since I would have otherwise missed this bit of artwork which I’m guessing is from storm-damaged trees.

5. The Warnke Covered Bridge is the northernmost in the county and is the last bridge Everett S. Sherman built. Apparently, it was not one of the jobs resulting from the 1886 flood but was undertaken to repair more localized damage due to an 1895 flood. In this case, repair meant a whole new bridge.

6. The Brubaker Covered Bridge is the only one of Preble County’s older covered bridges to have more than a single small opening in its sides, and even it wasn’t always that way. It is the covered bridge equivalent of stone ‘S’ bridges seen on the National Road and elsewhere. Construction methods of the time placed bridges at right angles to the stream they crossed which sometimes forced the roadway to curve as it approached the bridge. That wasn’t a big deal for pedestrians or horses but became a big deal when automobiles started flying along at tens of miles per hour. The greatly widened openings allowed motorists to see and be seen. There was a rack of Preble County bridge brochures at every one of the covered bridges but the one pictured at the beginning of this post was here.

7. Everett S. Sherman built the Harshman Covered Bridge over Four Mile Creek in 1894. Like most of the Preble County bridges, it’s on a nice straight road that provided a through-the-bridge view in both directions. And, also like most of those bridges, there is a mid-span opening that provides a nice up-the-stream view to anyone traveling slow enough to see it.

8. Had I spent some time working out a full route, I would have probably ended my bridge tour at the northern edge of Preble County then slipped into my birth county (Darke) to do some visiting. As things turned out I’m kind of glad that this was the last bridge of the day because it really is the oddball of the bunch. It looks modern because it is. It was built in 2012. It mimics nineteenth-century bridges in its use of the Burr Arch truss design. It is built of wood so the covering can be justified as protection just as it was in the nineteenth century. There are, of course, other ways of protecting wood today as well as other bridge-building materials. I’m not a fan but neither am I a hardcore opponent of bridges of this sort. It is hardly the only retro-bridge in the country. They are what they are.   

Driving Lessons

During the writing of Tracing A T To Tampa, the fact that I had never driven a Model T Ford began to bother me more and more with every passage that referred to some detail about the car that “put America on wheels”. I had seen plenty of Model Ts and had ridden in a few but every comment that I made about the T’s operation came from observation and “book learning”. I wondered about how accurate I was being.

The T that I traced to Tampa is believed to be the touring car in the first photograph which belonged to my great-grandparents. The coupe is a car they owned many years after the Florida trip. It is currently in the possession of an uncle and I considered bugging him for driving lessons but in the end, I went for the Model T Driving Experience at the AACA museum in Hersey, PA. That gave me access to multiple cars in an environment set up for novice drivers. I combined it with a few other items from my to-do list and made a road trip that is documented here. The driving experience is included in day 4 but not much is said about the actual driving. That’s what prompted me to make this blog post.

This picture is one I used in the trip journal. It shows the four cars that students were to drive. I drove the green, yellow, and red cars but the black car, actually a roadster pickup truck, conked out before my turn came. It was replaced by another black roadster pickup, but the top stayed up on the replacement. That’s it in the b&w photo at the top of the article.

The image at left was taken from the “Ford Model T Instruction Book”. Model Ts were often delivered by train or other means directly to a new owner with nothing resembling today’s dealer prep (and accompanying charge). The 45-page book provided all the information necessary to prepare, operate, and maintain what might be the very first powered vehicle the owner had ever seen.

Our cars had all been prepped, of course, and all were equipped with electric starters. Plus, we would have the advantage of a classroom presentation with visual aids. Against the open doorway, the visual aids weren’t a whole lot easier to see in person than they are in the photograph but we all had copies available in a handout. The use of the spark advance and battery/magneto switch in starting the engine was discussed but today the instructors would take care of those details. Students would be dealing with the hand throttle, the steering wheel, and three pedals.

It seemed everyone was familiar with a hand throttle from a tractor, lawnmower, or something similar. And everyone recognized the steering wheel. It is one of just two controls that have maintained the same function from Model T to Tesla although neither can be operated with modern instincts. Most modern cars have a steering ratio of 12:1 or more; the ratio for Ts is 4:1 or 5:1. It is essentially the only thing on a Model T that can be called quick.

This picture of a Model T’s three pedals appeared in the handout. The bulk of student brain activity would be focused on these. ‘C’, ‘R’, and ‘B’ markings identify them as clutch, reverse, and brake. The brake pedal is the other control that technically retains the same function in modern cars as in the T. However, like the steering wheel, how well it performs that function is dramatically different. Today’s brake pedals are mostly power-assisted and hydraulically connected to large disc brakes at all four wheels that will bring a 3,000-pound 60 MPH vehicle to a halt in forty yards or so. A Model T’s brake pedal is mechanically attached to bands that tighten around a shaft in the transmission that will bring a 1,200-pound 10 MPH vehicle to a halt eventually.

Although there is nothing quite like the reverse pedal in modern cars, its function is simple and easy to understand. With the car stopped and no other pedal pressed, pushing it to the floor causes the car to move backward. The idea of “no other pedal pressed” would really apply to all of the driving we would do on this day. The pedals would be pressed one at a time.

Clutch pedals in modern cars are becoming increasingly rare but they do exist and it’s tempting to think that knowing how to operate a modern manual transmission will help in operating a Model T. Not a chance. Almost every instinct developed by driving manual transmissions will only get in the way when driving a Model T. I will expand on this later but today we would be doing all of our driving in low gear which meant that the clutch was engaged with the pedal pressed and disengaged with the pedal released. Yes, driving in low gear did translate to driving at low speed and I don’t doubt that some readers will think that lame. Pshaw. With 4:1 steering in a fairly primitive car with totally unfamiliar controls, 15 MPH was plenty fast.

A Q&A session followed the presentation then we moved outside where instructors reviewed parts of what we had learned using the real Model Ts as visual aids. Next, an instructor climbed into the driver’s seat of each car and a student joined them for a lap around the course as a passenger. The “course” was an unmarked path around a closed-off portion of the museum grounds with an uphill section on grass and a downhill section on asphalt.

The green roadster was the first car I climbed into but I have no pictures of me as either a passenger or driver. Even though I’d read about it and had ridden with others doing it, the strangeness of holding that clutch pedal down to keep moving didn’t completely register until it was my foot doing the holding. I also was a little surprised at how much the throttle was used. It was positioned for easy fingertip access while holding the wheel and adjustments were required for climbing the small hill and at other points too. I also did a lap as a passenger in the yellow speedster. The instructor thought that prudent because of some play in the steering. I managed to hand off my camera for the speedster drive but only have a picture from that first lap. My drives in both of these cars went well in that I didn’t run into or over anything and I didn’t stall either one. That streak would not continue.

Helpful volunteers did snap pictures of me at the wheel of the other two Ts, both of which I managed to stall. In fact, I stalled the cool-looking furniture van twice. At ages of 94 to 108 years, these vehicles are entitled to some idiosyncrasies and they do indeed have them. For the speedster, it was steering. For the red van, it was a dead spot in the throttle. Twice, when I wanted a little more oomph, I moved the throttle a little when it needed to be moved a lot. I have a different excuse for stalling the black pickup. Model Ts have a parking brake of sorts but using it was not part of the day’s normal procedure. There was no need in the level lot. For some reason, the previous driver had seen fit to set it but that did not keep me from reaching the beginning of the hill before the combination of brakes and incline started to bog things down. The instructor figured that out just as the T’s engine chugged to a halt. With that exception, my drive in the little pickup was understandably the best of the day. Operating that strange clutch and using the hand throttle never became 100% natural but, as it is with most things, the more I did it the better I became.

I said I would expand on clutch operation and I’m going to use a detail from an earlier picture to help with that. I’m also going to take the opportunity to describe briefly what happened when I stalled those cars.

Until it is up and running, a Model T’s engine needs to get its electrical power from a battery. A switch on the dash-mounted wooden box controls that. Following a stall, the instructor would flip that switch to battery and maybe make some adjustments to the throttle and spark advance. They would then tell me to press the starter button. In the picture, it’s on the floor. In other cars, it was on the verticle panel below the seat. Once the engine started, the instructor switched things back to magneto operation and away we’d go.

As I’d recently been thinking of my great-grandfather driving a Model T to Florida and back, at some point I began to think about him with his foot pressed to the floor for the whole trip. That really wasn’t required and that lever that the instructor is holding in the picture above is part of the reason. Pulling it all the way back activates small drum brakes on the read wheels. That’s what was going on when I stalled the pickup. Moving it all the way forward enables high gear. With high gear selected, pressing the clutch pedal to the floor still engages low gear, releasing it partway disengages the transmission, while releasing it all the way engages high gear. So, when driving to Florida, push that lever forward, press and hold the clutch pedal until you’re moving at a decent clip, then slowly release it. Adjust speed with your fingers as necessary and let your feet relax.

The museum does not call what they offer a school. It’s a Model T Driving Experience. The certificate I received simply acknowledges that I “completed” the experience with no indication of how good or bad I did or how badly I frightened the instructors. It does not authorize me to do anything whatsoever and that includes bragging about driving four different Model Ts in low gear without stalling two of them. I’m doing that entirely on my own.

Heritage Village Cincinnati

Friday felt a little odd. It had absolutely nothing scheduled but it was surrounded by days that did. Noting strenuous or even particularly time-consuming, but there were meetings and appointments with specific times that had to be attended to. It would seem logical, I think, to want to just sit around the shanty on that uncommitted day, and that’s probably what I would have done if the day hadn’t promised sunshine and 80 degrees. I know it was my awareness that there would soon be a huge gap between 80 degree days that made me want to avoid wasting this one. I went out to breakfast at a place a little farther away than normal and which I hadn’t been to in a long time. Over a goetta and cheese omelet, I pondered ways to put the day to use. Museums weren’t high on my list because I did not want to spend a lot of time indoors, but I eventually used “museum” as an internet search term and got a near-perfect hit. Heritage Village Museum & Education Center is definitely a museum. It says it right there in the name. But it also says it’s a village which means there is some open space. It really did seem to be exactly what I was looking for.

It wasn’t far from the restaurant where I was eating, so I simply headed directly there when I was done. As I approached the building where admission fees are collected, I passed a sign stating that guided tours were scheduled for 10:00, 12:45, and 3:00. It was about 10:30. Inside the building, I joked that I’d timed my arrival quite badly for a guided tour. The attendant agreed and added something about the last one being yesterday. I eventually figured out that guided tours are given May through September, and that she meant the last one for the year. It was October 1. I somehow felt less foolish missing a tour by a day than by half an hour. I paid my admission. received a self-guided tour brochure, and set off to guide myself.

The first building encountered was also the first building moved into the village. Elk Lick House was from a spot in Clermont County that is now covered by East Fork Lake. The Chester Park Train Station and Crossing Tender’s Booth came from Winton Place across Spring Grove Avenue from Chester Park racetrack and amusement park. The McAlpin’s clock is one of the few things in the village I remember in its original location. It stood in front of the store on Fourth Street from 1992 to 1999. It was actually the fifth clock to stand there with the first four falling to “the elements and traffic mishaps”.

The Fetter Store came from what is now known as Owensville in Clermont County. It was built around 1866. Dr. Langdon’s Office was moved here in 1973 from the Linwood section of Cincinnati. Preparations for Halloween and trick-or-treating were in evidence behind the doctor’s office as well as in that tender’s booth back at the train station.

Myers Schoolhouse is the newest addition to the village and is actually still in the process of being restored. It was moved here in 2008. Its official name was Delhi Township District School #3. It was in use as a school from 1891 until 1926 when Delhi Township consolidated all of its schools.

After reaching the schoolhouse and turning around, the first building encountered is the Somerset Church. The Presbyterian church was built around 1829 and, until it was moved to the village in 1991, stood near Fields Ertel and Montgomery roads less than a mile from where I currently live. Next to the church is the Kemper Log House and a reproduction of its stone kitchen. The house that Rev. James Kemper built in 1804 is the oldest structure in the village. It originally stood near where Cincinnati’s Eden Park is today.

The Hayner House is both the beginning and end of the tour. It was built near South Lebanon in the 1850s. In the village, it faces Sharon Creek as it once faced the little Miami River. The entrance to the museum and gift shop, where tour tickets are purchased, is on the other side of the house. A glance down while walking between the creek and the house can provide a reminder as to just which state you are in.

PA Cars

I pieced together a trip from odds and ends and leftovers then slapped on the name PA Cars because it includes a couple of Pennsylvania car museums. I’m going to learn to drive a Model T at one of them. The first day’s journal has just been posted despite it being the end of the trip’s fourth day in real life.

This entry is to let blog only subscribers know about the trip and to provide a place for comments. The journal is here.

Ohio Cup Vintage Base Ball 2021

I saw my first vintage base ball game right here in Ohio Village back in 2010. It was a July 4th Ohio Muffins intrasquad game. The Muffins might be the oldest vintage base ball team in the country and are definitely the first to play a regular schedule. They are currently celebrating their 40th year of existence. The big end of summer gathering of teams called the Ohio Cup Vintage Base Ball Festival was well established when I saw that 2010 game but this is my first time attending. This is the 29th festival after a COVID19 triggered cancelation last year.

The game is played with the rules, equipment, and courtesy of the 1860s. There are no big padded gloves or other protective equipment. Pitching is underhanded with no calling of strikes or balls. The idea was to put the ball in play, get some exercise, and have some fun. Having fun today includes dressing the part by both players and umpires.

There are 25 teams participating in the festival with games taking place on four diamonds. The teams come from places as far away as Tennessee and Minnesota and their friends, families, and idle players make up a large part of the audience although there are a fair number of pure spectators like me. Note that the event is called a festival rather than a tournament. The goal, remember, is to have fun. There are no trophies and no official winner beyond the individual games

Without the need to call strikes and balls, the (there’s only one) umpire’s main job seems to be identifying foul balls.

Runs and outs can only happen after a ball is hit. Runs have always been scored only by crossing home plate. Then as now, a runner can be retired with a tag or a force-out, and catching a hit ball in flight seems to have always resulted in an out. In 1860 and in Ohio Cup Vintage Base Ball, catching a ball on the first bounce also counts as an out. I’m guessing that went away when padded gloves appeared.

At the end of each game, the teams line up along the base paths and a member of each team gives a short speech that usually has a few jokes and a compliment or two. Then each team gives three huzzahs before they pass each other and shake hands. Yeah, that’s the way it should be done. Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!


I’d heard about an Umbrella Alley in Columbus so decided to take a look while I was there. It was rather nice but, after seeing the Umbrellas in Batesville, also rather underwhelming with a total of thirty-nine umbrellas. I thought the giraffe at the nearby Lego store was cooler.

Music Hall Inside and Out

I recall that at some point during the COVID-19 “shutdown”, outside tours of Cincinnati’s Music Hall became available and I had every intention of joining one. I do not recall why I didn’t. I finally made it on Saturday but by then, inside tours were also available so I did one of those on Friday. I’m no stranger to the 144-year-old building and even posted some 100% layman-type commentary on the place before and after its recent renovation: A Pre-Refurb Peek at Music Hall and A Post-Refurb Peek at Music Hall. But what little I did know about the building came purely from attending events there so I learned plenty from both tours.

Much of Friday’s tour was through public spaces I was fairly familiar with but which I’d never seen without a crowd of concertgoers. The statue of Reuben R. Springer is in the main lobby. Springer donated the majority of the money to construct the Samuel Hannaford designed building that replaced a tin-roofed wooden structure on the site. During the 2016-17 renovation, the solid wood doors across the front of the building were replaced by glass doors that really brightened up the lobby. Two of the original doors now stand behind each of the two bars in the corners of the lobby.

The main performance space is named Springer Auditorium and I’ve been inside it quite a few times. That includes once since the big renovation so I was aware of improvements like the wider seats and overhead acoustic panels. I was not, as a certain cinematic scientist might say, shivering with anticipation when we entered but maybe I should have been. I knew that the 1,500-pound Czechoslovakian chandelier was lowered and cleaned on a regular basis and was even vaguely aware that it happened every two years but I had no idea that one of those cleanings was currently in progress. Seeing all that crystal at eye level with the ceiling images unblocked was probably the day’s personal highlight for me.

We did get into some non-public spaces I’d never seen before. One of these was the huge backstage area with a glimpse of the main stage through a narrow opening. Another was the north hall which was originally built for industrial exhibitions but which became an athletic venue at some point. It was here that Ezzard Charles won many of his fights on the way to becoming World Heavyweight Champion and where the Cincinnati Bearcats played basketball in the 1940s. Cincinnati Gardens effectively took over the job of hosting Cincinnati’s athletic events when it opened in 1949. This is where I took the picture of the handpainted Music Hall that opens this article.

Friday’s last stop was the upper floor of the south hall. The south hall had been built as a place for agricultural exhibits. With its glass roof, it functioned as the city’s horticultural showplace until Krohn  Conservatory opened in 1933. Since then, it has served as a nightclub and dance hall in various forms and today is often rented out for private functions. I have been here a few times but only when it was jam-packed with people.

There were, of course, no non-public spaces on Saturday’s outside tour and I don’t believe I actually saw anything that I had not seen before. I did, however, learn quite a bit and now see some things differently. I know I’ve heard the architectural style described and may have even heard some form of the name our guide used; High Victorian Gothic Revival. But I don’t recall ever hearing the idiom he shared: “stripes and spikes”. He attributed this to an architecture critic of the day and it certainly seems to fit.

The south hall is marked with leaves and flowers to match its agricultural purpose while the north hall’s industrial connection is indicated by gears and mallets. Musical lyres adorn the central building.

The main building displays its year of completion if you can sort the digits into the right sequence. The two side buildings were completed during the following year. The fronts of all three were constructed with glazed bricks brought from Philadelphia and Zanesville. Some of these were then black coated on site. The rear portion of the buildings used less expensive local bricks and some additional money may have been saved by not paying someone to shuffle the build date.


Music Hall is close to downtown Cincinnati and I used the tours as an excuse to eat at a couple of favorites I don’t get to all that often. Friday’s tour was in the afternoon and I stopped by Camp Washington Chili on the way home but took no pictures. Saturday’s tour was in the morning and I headed to the Anchor Grill for breakfast. I did not intend to take pictures there either, but a banner in the parking lot changed my mind. Anchor Grill survived the worst of the pandemic on carryout so I checked before I went, and was happy to see they were now allowing dining-in. Apparently, they’ve been doing it since May, and that’s when the actual 75th anniversary was, too. I really should have been paying attention.

In my experience, the Band Box isn’t played much but almost as soon as I got my order in today, the curtain opened and the music began. It was still going when I left with the animated dance orchestra performing a non-stop medley of brokenhearted country love songs. I thought that was really special. And eating in restaurants older than me two days in a row is pretty special too.

The Berlin Masterpieces in Cincinnati

This post’s title is a take-off of the title of an exhibit at the Cincinnati Art Museum the full and accurate title of which is Paintings, Politics and the Monuments Men: The Berlin Masterpieces in America. At the heart of the exhibit is the story of a wildly popular, though somewhat controversial,1948 tour of paintings with its own title: Masterpieces from the Berlin Museums. The tour did not reach Cincinnati although two of the fourteen cities it did reach, Cleveland and Toledo, were in Ohio and there is a major Cincinnati connection.

The picture of General Eisenhour looking over some of the paintings that the Nazis had hidden away is at the entrance to the exhibit. On the other side of the wall it is mounted on, there is a timeline of the Nazis’ rise and fall that ends with the Masterpieces from the Berlin Museums tour. Two items from late 1943 are “Allies invade Italy”, in September, and “Monuments, Fine Art, and Archives section (Monuments Men) of the U.S. Army is established”, in December. The Monuments Men (the subject and title of a 2014 movie) set out to locate and protect artworks at risk of being destroyed by the Nazis.

Thousands of items were located, some in a large salt mine, and brought together at Wiesbaden, Germany. This is where the Cincinnati connection comes in. The director of the Wiesbaden Central Collecting Point was Cincinnatian Walter I. Farmer. By itself, his work in documenting pieces of art and preparing them for return to their owners would have been noteworthy but there was something more.

When he became aware of plans to ship a large number of paintings to the U.S. for safekeeping, Farmer organized thirty-two Monuments Men to produce the Wiesbaden Manifesto which protested what Farmer feared was “spoils of war” type treatment of the European treasures. Smithsonian Magazine calls this “the only act of protest by Army officers against their orders during the entirety of the Second World War”. Although it was eventually published, the manifesto was initially suppressed by Farmer’s superiors. The paintings were shipped to the National Gallery in Washington, DC, and placed in storage. As plans formed to return the paintings to Germany, it was decided to put them on display before their departure. An exhibit at the National Gallery was so popular that the U.S. Congress took notice and actually legislated the tour of thirteen additional museums. All 202 paintings were returned to Germany at the conclusion of the tour. 

Photos of “The Berlin 202” are displayed on a wall near the center of the exhibition. Four of the actual paintings, on loan from the State Museums of Berlin, are on display. The exhibit is fleshed out with other paintings in CAM’s possession by some of the artists contained in the 202. Paintings, Politics and the Monuments Men: The Berlin Masterpieces in America runs through October 3, 2021.

Book Review
Tracing a T to Tampa
Denny Gibson

Just like all but one of my previous books, Tracing a T to Tampa is a travelogue. Unlike any of those books, it is not about following a specific road or reaching specific destinations. It is about following a single specific trip. That trip is one made by my great-grandparents in 1920 in a Model T Ford. Throughout the 1920 journey, my great-grandmother sent a series of letters to her daughter in which town names were often included in her reports of what they were seeing and doing. Those town names allowed me to roughly reproduce their route. There are multiple reasons why my reproduction is a rough one. One is that roads have changed in the intervening years and another is that I usually had to guess at the path they took between the towns my great-grandmother mentioned. Some of those guesses are almost certainly wrong but proving it, should you be so inclined, would not be easy. Parts of the 1920 trip were clearly on the Dixie Highway and National Old Trails Road although neither is identified by name in the letters.

Frank and Gertrude, my great-grandparents, headed south from their western Ohio home and entered Florida almost directly south of Valdosta, GA. They reached Jacksonville and Miami on the east coast then crossed the center of the state to check out Tampa. Despite the book’s title, Tampa was not their stated destination when they left home but it was more or less where their exploration of new Flordia territory came to an end. The rest of their time in Florida would be spent mostly revisiting places from just a few “base camps”. 

I began the trip chronicled in this book on the exact 100th anniversary of the original: November 4, 2020. The original was four months long; the recreation a little less than four weeks. My great-grandparents reached Tampa after a little more than a month on the road. They would leave Florida a little more than two months later and spend just over two weeks getting home. Although they left Florida on the same path that brought them there, they would move away from it in the middle of Georgia to visit the nation’s capital in Washington.

Tracing a T to Tampa is illustrated with more than 100 photographs; primarily from the 2020 trip. There are, however, several historical photos mixed in. A transcript of the original letters is included.

1920 and 2020 can both be considered “interesting times”. Both contained a presidential election and were in a period of considerable racial unrest. 2020 was in the middle of a major pandemic and one had just ended in 1920. 1920 was also made interesting by the recent ending of a worldwide war and the passage of the 18th and 19th amendments to the U.S. Constitution. All of these are noted, but not dwelled upon, in the book.

Tracing a T to Tampa, Denny Gibson, Trip Mouse Publishing, 2021, paperback, 9 x 6 inches, 217 pages, ISBN 979-8739822550.

Signed copies available through eBay. Unsigned copies available through Amazon.

Reader reviews at Amazon are appreciated and helpful and can be submitted even if you didn’t purchase the book there. Other Trip Mouse books described here.

The Wall That Heals

I have seen the real Vietnam Memorial Wall in Washington, DC, multiple times and a traveling version once. When I heard that a wall replica would be on display in Columbus over the Memorial Day weekend, I didn’t really feel an overwhelming need to see it. However, when I woke up Saturday morning, that’s exactly what I wanted to do.

The Columbus display is hosted by the National Veterans Memorial and Museum. I have long been annoyed by people confusing Veterans Day and Memorial Day, and arrangements such as this may inadvertently contribute to the blurring of the two. They are not, of course, completely separable. They are two sides of the same coin or two branches of the same path. Everyone who joins the military will someday be honored by one — but not both — of these holidays.

“The Moving Wall” is a half-sized replica that began touring in 1984. At some point, a second copy was created. It was one of these that I saw in 2008. The replica displayed in Columbus is a different one called “The Wall That Heals”. At 3/4 the size of the original, it provides a rather realistic experience. The openness of the museum grounds combined with the fact that I was there before much of a crowd appeared, allowed me to get the entire wall into a single photo. These pictures were taken a little before 9:00 AM. The museum opens at 10:00 and I’m sure the number of people on site picked up considerably then.

I visited the museum shortly after it first opened in 2018 and described the visit here. I did not enter the museum today. I did walk some of the paths and ramps that surround it. Although officially a place for and about veterans, even without the wall, the museum has several reminders that many who set out to become veterans never make it.


Any morning in Columbus is a good time for breakfast at Tommy’s Diner, but that seems especially true when the day’s destination is less than a mile away. 

Big To Do at Wigwam 2

The first night I stayed at a Wigwam Village of any vintage was April 22, 2004, when I pulled into Wigwam Village #2. There was no neon outlined tepee like the one at right to greet me. I had driven down after work which put me at the village a little after 10:00 PM. The office and gift shop were in use but weren’t open that late. I retrieved the key that had been left for me in the mailbox and let myself in.

There were lights in front of the office including a neon VACANCY, OFFICE, and arrow. I have no pictures from this visit that show the neon tepee lit and I believe it was completely non-functional but my memory isn’t good enough to swear to that. I got an external shot of the office tepee that included the sign and an internal photo with owner Ivan John.

John retired and sold the motel about a year later. Things had really deteriorated prior to his 1996 takeover and the deterioration commenced anew after his departure. It might not have been immediate. The picture at right of the lighted neon tepee was taken in 2007 and I don’t know if its resurrection came before or after John left. It is the image I used to represent the village in A Decade Driving the Dixie Highway. While John ran the place, a playground and picnic tables were added and the rooms refurbished while retaining most of the original wooden furniture. Since at least 2007, I don’t believe much effort or money has been invested in improving the village until new owners came along in November.

Even if I did not know what was planned for today, I might have seen the ladder at the sign as a clue. There really isn’t much on the outside of the tepees to indicate how much work Keith and Megan have done. The grounds look neater but that’s about it. Even inside there are no dramatic changes. Bathroom fixtures have been updated but the general deep cleaning and repainting may not be immediately obvious.  My habit of posting little collages of motel rooms had not yet been established when I stayed here in 2004 and 2007 so the oldest internal view I have to compare with today‘s is one from 2009.

Megan and Keith had begun accepting a few guests in March but today was a sort of grand-opening of Historic Wigwam Village No. 2 with nine wigwams revitalized and rented. A tepee-shaped cake and some very accurate cookies really added to the occasion.

Megan and Keith each spent a few minutes talking about their experiences during their fairly brief ownership and about their plans for the future. Then they threw the switch that illuminated the recently replaced neon on the sign. It looked good immediately and even better as the sky darkened. In his remarks, Keith noted that they thought bringing the sign to life was an important and highly visible indicator of their intentions to bring the whole village back to life. I think he’s right and it seems that a lot of others do too.