KEENELAND RACE TRACK

We typically rise before the sun, but not all sunrises are as beautiful as this one where we are parked at Keeneland Race Track. The grounds are lovely here, with a lot of room to park the motor home.

We walked up to the Track Kitchen at 7:00 for a hearty breakfast. Along the roads at Keeneland, you don’t find fallen leaves. It’s horse manure. Aren’t I gross? Bloggers will take a picture of anything. Truthfully, the birds call it breakfast, only I didn’t catch the birds.

The barns stretch out on both sides of the main road to the track. The horses get exercised several mornings a week. A groom bathes this beauty while the hot walker holds the reins.  (Left click to make pictures larger.)

I looked back, and the hot walker was kissing his charge. The horse is now wet and soapy up on his thighs, and the groom is working his tail. These horses are treated like princesses.

An exercise girl is just returning her horse to the barn.

She turns the horse over to the grooms. After a bath, a hot walker, walks the horse in a circle for about 30 minutes to settle down after the run.

And if the horse is lucky, he or she will get a nibble of grass before being returned to a stall.

Dozing in a bit of sunlight shining into his stall, waiting for an attendant to feed him or give him a treat.

Each groom has to get rid of the old straw each day and replace it with new straw. It was steaming in the crisp cold of morning.

The horses so beautiful, the workers so practiced and fast, I just didn’t tire of watching them.

The horses and riders came streaming in groups back from the track. We thought we’d missed the exercise, but one girl told us that they were coming in for a break and would start again in 10 minutes.

Always, the wrapped cannon, and ankles,  the most vulnerable part of a race horse.

The exercise saddle is almost like riding bareback.

Then another horse comes in from the track with leather blinders to keep the horse focused and free of distractions.  Only his back ankles were wrapped. I guess each trainer and horse gets individual attention, but whatever is needed.

I watched him turn into the barn and couldn’t believe how fast the groom removed the wrappings.

A good view of the soapy hooves.

In the adjacent barn, a groom was allowing his charge to nibble fresh grass. The horses love that. I asked who the owner was. He told me Greg Burchell and pointed to a stall.

Greg is an owner trainer and he was feeding his horses grapes for a treat. The horse is blurry in this photo but the pure joy on Greg’s  face is clear. He invited us to pet the horses.

Horses are such intelligent animals. They return your affection.

If you’ve never been tempted to nuzzle the soft nose of a horse, you can’t imagine what a pleasure that is.  He loves his horses and it shows.

She wanted more grapes, but all I could offer was a salty hand to lick. She brought her owners a million dollars. But the cost to care for them is horrific.

Then he introduced us to Sticks, a young horse of unusual height at 17.2 hands. He had the groom turn her around.

He checked her feet.

And we got a good look at her. A real beauty. He says she has injured herself on the stall because she is too tall for the stall. And,  tall for a thoroughbred. She is named for one of the owners and Greg’s good friend who carries Stick for a nick-name.

We finally got to the track where we met Ashley, a medical technician. A lovely job for a young girl. She worked as an Emergency Medical Tech for the fire department.  Now, she works the races, much more exciting. She sometimes rides the race with the horses in a van. She is there to see to an injured rider.

We didn’t get a correct website for Greg and hope to have it tomorrow when we’ll share our race track photos.

FOUR ROSES DISTILLERY, LAWRENCEBURG, KENTUCKY

After yesterday’s horrible pouring down rain, we scrambled with a another time change and hit the Blue Grass Parkway toward Laurenceburg for a visit to Four Roses Distillery. I’ve seen plenty of beer breweries, but never a distillery. Bonds Mill Rd. is narrow, kind of rolling hills and homes, could this be the right place? A big yellow, Spanish Mission Style building suddenly loomed up before us. The gates are narrow; you can’t see if there is room for a motor home. Carefully, carefully we rolled…

We wound around a narrow driveway and ended up at the back of the place next to an ancient still on our left.

The steaming smoke stacks of a distillery at work on the right.

And the visitors center in front of us. A distinct smell of sweet corn hung in the air.

Inside the visitors center everything is roses. Much to look at and enjoy or buy while waiting for your tour.

Wouldn’t this make a good toilet seat?  It answers the question, what is the difference between bourbon and whiskey?  Same thing. I’d love to have that as a toilet seat.

Four Roses isn’t the oldest distillery in the state, but one of the oldest. It was started in 1888 by Old Joe. Everyone loved his brew and when he sold his place, he sold the recipe. It remains the same, we are told.

Several owners bought and ran the distillery after Old Joe. It was owned by Seagrams for many years. This is their top of the line product, single barrel straight bourbon, that has always been produced to the original recipe and enjoys a huge following in Europe and Japan. It is rumored the name Four Roses came from one early owner who fell for a beautiful woman. He asked for her hand in marriage. She said she’d give him her answer at an upcoming ball. If she was wearing a red rose, the answer was yes. At the ball she was wearing a corsage of four red roses. When Seagrams went bankrupt, the new owners began marketing their most successful product, the single barrel above, and selling it in America. It isn’t yet available in every state.

The yellow label is what you drink Monday through Friday. They don’t use the b—- word. It is an intermingled recipe. The books have some neat recipes.

The distillery has won an award for best distillery for 2011 and 2012. The above is not the award. Didn’t learn what sour mash was. Forgot to ask. But I did remember that by law, bourbon has to be 51% corn mash. (She said Four Roses uses more.)  The corn comes from Indiana. Rye from Denmark and barley from Ireland.  Secret recipe #1.

The distillery tour started on the ground floor and ended there for me because of the stairs.  I had to leave and waited for the tour to enter the tasting room at the end.

Our tour guide above was fun. She had a great toast for us that I can’t remember. The booze is delish if you like booze. Jim declined to taste. He only likes his Canadian Mist with ice and water. I enjoyed it because I like scotch, but it would have been better with a couple of ice cubes and a splash of water and a little cracker and cheese. (She gave me an empty bottle with the embossed roses on it for my bottle fence.)

While Jim was on the tour, I took some pictures outside. Beautiful grounds.

A second still on the grounds, a fountain in front of the building. It was a fun tour.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN BIRTHPLACE NATIONAL PARK

Abraham Lincoln was born in Hardin County, Kentucky  on Feb. 12th, 1809, which is near Hodgenville, Kentucky. The National Park that commemorates his birthplace has a huge monument, cabins of the type he lived in, and a great film about the family.  Lincoln often credited his mother with his inspiration but his father, Thomas Lincoln, pictured above, must have been a strong influence on Lincoln. Thomas, as a 10 year old boy, watched his father die at the hand of an indian arrow and stayed with the body while his brother kept shooting until the war party left. Thomas learned hard lessons, and survived a hardscrabble life and worked at farming, carpentry and any job he could find to help out at home.

The typical cabins of the time on the site which we viewed through the pouring rain.

Typical fencing of the time as well.

The film emphasized that Thomas Lincoln worked hard, built up a bank account, could apply for community service and take on responsibility. He was then allowed to buy land and established himself before marrying Nancy Hanks. The family grew to include children thus Abraham Lincoln does not remember his birthplace home, but the Knob Creek area home northeast of Hogdenville where he lived from about 3 years to 7 years old in the crumbling cabin pictured below. It might have known fancy furnishings like the replica above.

The film explains that the Lincolns were upper middle-class and not poor.

The monument on the site has 56 steps, one for every year he lived, and no elevator, so we didn’t venture in. It holds a replica of the house before it completely disintegrated.

We moved on to Hogdenville which has a Lincoln Museum. It is housed in this beautiful old building with tin ceilings and wonderful old hardwood. A perfect setting for everything Lincoln.

The Museum has life-sized dioramas of Lincoln that I didn’t care for, but there are some very nice old documents like this one of the death-bed. Wrinkled and crinkled and probably from an old magazine or perhaps a picture. Plus, under glass and difficult to photograph.

A collection of cards from his centennial celebration.

A collection of political memorabilia.

The museum has copies of many, many pictures of Lincoln, because photography was popular then. Through the pictures we watch him age.

A statesman with maturity.

And the ravages of the responsibility of the Civil War.

There were many paintings here. Some copies of old paintings, and other current, modern efforts to capture the man. This tender scene with his son Todd is my favorite.

And this modern painting of Lincoln with blue eyes. Is their authentic information that suggests his eyes were blue?  I don’t know. It surprised me because I always thought of Lincoln as a brown-eyed man with his craggy looks and seropis personality and dark hair.

There are other items in the museum that reflected the times, furnishings like this yarn winder, clothing, quilts and other nice things. A good museum to visit.

We then moved on to a third site, where the Knob Creek farm was located. The rebuilt cabins stands where the dilapidated old structure was located. The visitors center here was closed. It was still raining and we didn’t stay long. It was here that Lincoln as a boy would see slave traders making their way along the river.

The Lincoln’s were Baptists and the differences over slavery split the Baptist Church between slave protectors and those who found the practice abhorrent.

The Thomas Lincoln family were firmly sided with non-slavery. You don’t find the vast history of the man without reading a good book. My self-educated father was a serious Lincoln scholar and I’ve admired this president above all others most of my life.

The Lincoln family moved on over serious land issues with the Kentucky territory, first to Illinois and later Indiana. I was also impressed with this area of Kentucky on Highway 31E, of all the historic monuments, parks, and things to see. We are moving through it quickly and can’t see it all. But, it is well worth taking a trip on the back roads. Besides, we are staying at a Moose Club. I dutifully changed my clothes to items I don’t care about getting smoked up only to discover our first club from Brownsville, Texas to Hodgenville Kentucky without cigarette smoke.

And, I couldn’t let this photo from the visitors center go by without mentioning Lincoln Logs. My brothers, sister and I grew up playing with them.

 

MAMMOUTH CAVE KENTUCKY-PHOTOS

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I mentioned previously that I took a drop of water on my lens. The drop of water came early in the cave. Be warned, it is  very wet at the traditional entrance. They have 27 entrances now, I cannot speak for the others.

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A flash photo looking up into a hole from above.

In some pictures, I was able to crop the smudge.

From a long distance and no flash, this is a cluster of bats. The ceiling in one place was bristling with those giant crickets but when the guide would shine the flashlight on them so you could see them, they would immediately scurry into a crack.

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This was a very dark area of the cave. Lighting is very subtle.

This is a closer shot with the flash.  I took three flash pictures. I was amazed at what color came from the light when I unloaded my pictures.

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A hole in the ceiling worked through the heavy limestone cover above and water pours through this hole. You can’t see the water.  It is a thin but forceful steady stream.

This particular tour is named for this formation called Frozen Niagara Falls. To the left you can see railings where those who can go down 49 steps and back up can look up at the falls.

This is a view down into the “fall room” from the top of the steps.

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The falls is the end of this tour, then you can photograph what you missed on the way back. I didn’t miss much.

These last two photos are repeats from a different angle.

I enjoyed this cave. I don’t fear the dark or unknown or earthquakes or rocks falling  that others on the tour expressed. But there are some people who absolutely love them and can’t wait to get back under. They can easily spend weeks in a cave. I heard people say, all caves are alike, and I can certainly acknowledge their similarity. But, there is something unique about each one, too.

When I got out of the cave, it was the strangest feeling, like this sunny world is unnatural  and less rich compared to what we had just seen. It only lasted for seconds. I guess the eyes couldn’t make the switch quickly enough. Fleetingly, it occurred to me, the feeling of let down people get when they come up, may be what inspires those to become addicted to caving.

We lunched at their cafeteria. Great vegetarian choices made it tough to choose. I’m now hungering for the spicy black bean burger I didn’t choose over this spinach wrap humus and veggies with mango and passion fruit dressing.  Yum!

MAMMOUTH CAVE NATIONAL PARK, KENTUCKY

Mammouth Cave is without a doubt the biggest cave in the world, covering 73,000 acres and 400 miles of underground territory. That figure may grow as cave explorers continue to map and explore to find the end of this massive underground water-formed labyrinth. The cave isn’t the only mammoth thing, the cave cricket above is from two to three inches in length. It doesn’t make sounds like our above ground crickets.

We arrived at the visitors center one hour before our reservation. That hour was nicely filled by a film and the displays. Because of my difficulty to do stairs, we signed on for a short tour that only has 12 steps and an optional 98. The tours are many and varied; you will have a lot of choices.  Mammouth has tours for every adventurous spirit. I took pictures of one of the films figuring it would have much we will not see on our tour, such as this altar rock.

When the cave was in private hands, people were invited to get married in the cave along with their guests.

Through a hole in the limestone roof, water cascades into the cave from a sinkhole above that captures water during heavy rains.

The cave system was occupied by various indigenous people at least 7,000 years ago. Their rush torches undecayed on a rock; evidence of their fires at the bottom of the cave from the discovery  entrance. While we don’t know much about current cave mappers/explorers, we do know a bit about the old timers.

Stephen Bishop, a self-educated enslaved person became a legendary guide and explorer. He began guiding visitors at the age of 17 in 1838. He was the first to get by the daunting “deep hole” and opened up many miles of the cave. (Not pictured.)

An amateur explorer, Floyd Collins, died in the cave in 1925, trapped under a boulder in a sand cave. No one was able to rescue him. Sensational news coverage spurred the government to make it a National Park in 1926.

From an original seven miles of cave, Mammouth has grown, and grown. In 1993, it was a 370 mile cave. The current mappers/explorers continue to push deeper and deeper into unknown areas, often crawling like ants in a tube to discover new “rooms”. The explorer above has an inflated roof to keep water from dropping on him and his stuff while he sleeps and eats.

The film had photos of several different types of bats in the cave. These are only as big as your thumb.

Caves are losing millions of their bats to a disease called white nose. It started in the East and is moving west. It has reached Mammouth in a part of the cave where no visitors travel. So, they figure the disease was brought in by the bats. But, as a precaution, you walk across a haz-mat to clean your shoes when leaving the cave, and they ask you to clean before you enter if you’ve visited a cave or a mine within the last five years.  It is a critical disease probably brought from another country on someones feet.

We know we won’t be going on the underground river tour, but isn’t that an exciting idea?  I swam across an underground river in a cave,  hanging onto a rope,  in Cave City located in Mountain Ranch in  Calaveras County, CA. where I live. It was an amazing experience.

A plant that grows in the cave. The connection to the outside, bats, birds, insects, fish, salamanders, all play their part in this unique eco-system. Fascinating.

This colorful fall of eroded limestone is golden and beautiful. I’ll post my own pictures from the cave tomorrow, since we have washday and other chores today. I’m bummed because early in the tour, a drop of liquid fell on my head, and, unbeknownst to me, one drop hit my camera lens. Most of my pictures are smudged. Lighting is such and the ability to learn quickly how to take photos in a dark cave, means my pictures are disappointing.  In this little tour, you don’t find the fans and the bacon and multiple colors I’ve seen in other caves. A woman on the tour complained, “Carlsbad is much prettier. I wasn’t impressed with this cave.”  Considering how little she saw of Mammouth, I feel lucky to be here, at this point in time, in a cave of great significance and renown the world over. Millions of people go through this park every year and find beauty here, as we did.

DIAMOND CAVERNS RESORT

We are at Diamond Caverns Resort, one of the most beautiful we’ve ever stayed in through the  Thousand Trails membership system. After the Corvette Museum, we pulled in late in the day, got set up, but didn’t have a chance to look around. Yesterday, I had a pile of paperwork to complete and mail. Returning from the post office in nearby Cave City, late in the day, we had a chance to look around.

An old barn surrounded by mustard flower caught Jim’s eye and we stopped to take a picture.

This big bull, I shot through the window. His harem was off in the distance on a hillside. We are near Mammouth Cave which is a National Park. It is common to find other caves in an area that has them.

We took the opportunity to stop by the resort’s main building which is next to their golf course and is also the entrance to Diamond Caverns.  The cavern is part of that same system that created Mammouth millions of  years ago.

Fronted by an irresistible formal garden, let the lens show you.

Beautiful fountains, rocks and the lovely sound of water.

Expert planning shows in the contrast of colors placed to excite the senses.

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At home, I have an iris about the color of this one. Since I’m missing them at home, I appreciate these the more.

Honoring  many textures and leaf types.

What a great soother after a hectic day.

For a fee, children (adults, too) can dip the sluice boxes into the running flume water and find gemstones to take home. Cooling and clever.

Inside the lobby, a natural stone fireplace enhanced by two parentheses geodes; beautiful wooden surfaces throughout the building.

The picture above the fireplace is of the inside of Diamond Cavern, carefully lined with paved walkways and strung with lights,  that customers may see the beauty and color of the formations, like the ribbon of bacon top right.

All types of gemstones, geodes, and fossils both polished and natural are sold in the gift shop. The collection is of huge examples, rather than put in your pocket samples.

The campground part of the resort is about a half-mile distant from the resort building. It has a mini golf course.

Kids play land.

Welcoming rockers sit on the porch, with a bench swing, tables and lounge chairs.

Inside is a nicely comported gym, spa, library, internet room, television and recreation hall. Outside a swimming pool, which is getting prepped to open for Memorial Day Weekend. Nice spot to spend a couple weeks, but our time will be short as we push for Connecticut for June graduation.

KENTUCKY’S CORVETTE MUSEUM

There are three major stories about the Corvette.  In 1953 Chevrolet designed a sports car modeled after European sports cars. Veterans returning from Europe talked about racy European sports cars and those young vets were the intended market. The Corvette design was nifty but it had no speed or power. It was about to flop.

A bold engineer by the name of Zora Arkus Duntov had the temerity to write to Chevrolet and tell them what was wrong with their car and made several suggestions of how they could improve it. They listened and invited him to meet with them. He was hired and became their head designer from then on. It was Duntov who made the Corvette the successful First American Sports Car that it became.

The second major component of this museum is the Corvette Owners, the clubs, their support and loyalty to their dream car. The Museum is a non-profit, by the way. Corvette Clubs from all over the U.S. come here, they donate their cars, their patches, parts, etc. They are active in their clubs. Ralleys, parades, mystery cruises, all the fun stuff, but they also participate in charities, making money for great causes. NCM Master Ambassador Club fly Vietnam Veterans, who cannot make it on their own, to Washington D.C. to visit the Vietnam Memorial.  The Museum,  gives a discount to vets and does other things for vets. They have programs for children and great displays associated with the Corvette.

They have a huge number of commemorative benches and sidewalk plaques and bricks around this huge building. Quite a place.

The third major story is Corvette’s entrance into the racing field. Above is the front end of the 1969 Orange Blossom Express, one of the most successful racers they produced.

The Orange Blossom raced from 1972 until 2001. It garnered a tremendous record of wins along the way.

This is my favorite Corvette, the rounded back, the convertible top, the sleek, longer front. When I was young, this is what a Corvette was supposed to look like.

And this little beauty, a close second.

There are many different Corvettes here and car buffs will absolutely love this place.

This sexy model with its lift up door simply looks like a smiling gargoyle to me. But, it was a great design as I remember for women to enter with short skirts without having to cram themselves in through a tiny door.

Sleek and speedy. Resembles a bomb. The word zoom just crawls out of your head.

This one resembles a mass of bubbles.

Eventually, they got wire wheels.

A square back. Naaah, not for me. But, it might be your favorite.

The only Corvette we saw in the place with a bra and a rack. It was considered a camping sports car.  I see a face and smile, besides.

A sleek bomb.

This was Duntov’s autographed car with his license, Zora 1.

And, the original 1953 model was pretty and snazzy for all of its faults. Look at those whitewalls and that cherry red upholstery. Yazoo!

Corvette decided to lend its sleek design to a guitar, but they didn’t stick with it.

The license plate collection.

The patches.

A wonderful mural made of tiny pictures of Corvettes.

And this amazing story. This 1965 Corvette was stolen in 1970. It was in show condition and its pedigree showed it had been in many car shows. The last buyer checked, found out it had been stolen and by some miracle the original report existed and the original owner got his Corvette back in 2009 worth a lot more than he paid for it. It is now in the museum. Isn’t that a terrific story? Well, folks, do come to visit, this is a terrific museum.

CROSSED INTO KENTUCKY

We crossed into Kentucky on Highway 79/68  at Guthrie where we were greeted by a huge spotted cow with sunglasses on. There was a time I would have asked Jim to stop so I could take a picture of such and unusual sight. Before I could think twice we were looking at a life-sized pink elephant. Nope, didn’t stop for it, either. This is green, green grass of home country.

We hope to see some bluegrass before we leave the state, and a race horse would be nice. Currently, we are in Bowling Green, a name that intrigues. and  is catchy enough to excite a song about it. Remember the lovely Bowling Green by the Everly Brothers? Named for other places called Bowling Green, possibly. It’s origin is uncertain. But, what is certain is it sits on the Barren River, the area is lush and an 1830′s  report about agriculture mentions a turnip 32 inches around, and a beet weighing nine and one half pounds. Zounds!!

I saw enough barns to remind me of barn photos I’ve taken, all from the window of the car or motor home and unedited.

A barn and a real cow, too.

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There is something honest and endearing about an old barn, this one with a brand new roof is going to last for a while. And, they are getting scarcer then hen’s teeth. I should yell stop when I spot the next one. Maybe make it a point to photograph a barn from every state we pass through.

FORT DEFIANCE, CLARKESVILLE RIVER WALK

Fort Defiance at Clarksville was named by Union Soldiers after its capture. It was formerly Fort Bruce, and then Fort Sevier. You see remnants of the  dirt embanked fort with few cannon and not even a reasonable shot at ships in the Cumberland River. In other words, little protection was offered by this fort.

It is unique because no great battle occurred here and the interpretive center and park preserve is a story of a city then of 5,000 to 8,000 people during the occupation of Union Troops. Clarkrsvillians certainly joined the war, some on both sides. Many  Kentuckians who were Confederate sympathizers joined in Clarksville since Kentucky was a Union stronghold.

But, back to the fort. While the Tennessee Governor was making speeches about providing 50,000 men for the Confederates to defend their honor and  chosen way of life, the City Fathers quickly made haste to put up a white flag to surrender as soon as they knew forces were marching on their city, a smart decision for two reasons.

First, they were the richest most successful city in Tennessee, and they were industrialized. They had a concentration of 8 great pig iron furnaces and abundant timber to keep them firing. They had the river and the railroads to ship to the  industrialized north their finances were tied more to the North than their slave holding farms were tied to the south.

Much of the information about what occupation was like comes from diaries. Serepta Jordan above…

…and Private Robert Tarpley kept extensive diaries. Union soldiers tried their best to keep commerce flowing, but war has few friends and the people suffered deprivation, lived on hope and made do with little as much as they could. The role of women in this war is extensive. The Union advertised for women and  their ad read like this: “….past thirty, maternal, healthy, plain almost to repulsiveness in dress, and devoid of personal attractions.” They didn’t want young women attracting men away from the war. 20,000 women served in the Civil War on both sides, making blankets and bandages, working as unskilled nurses, cooking and providing food and supplies and so on. Four hundred women disguised as men served in the fields of battle on both sides.

A new business resulted in the need for prosthesis’  Local residents were slowly registered and made to take a loyalty oath to the Union. Many resisted. Some avoided it for as long as possible. Women, too, were required to take the oath and would cross their fingers hidden in the folds of their skirts  so it wouldn’t count.

The war dragged on for what seemed like forever. Slaves rushed to leave and the farmers hands went missing affecting the economy. Everything, including food was in short supply. Plus, oath takers were considered traitors by some guerrilla types hanging out in the woods who would come into town and punish those who “changed” loyalties by burning their house down. Farmers suffered also because the marauders stole their chickens and turkeys. They were difficult times for everyone and risky for all.

And, it was a great stress for people who had to register in order to move about, and get food and other needed privileges, to be overseen by black enlistees.

An aside about Virgil Earp. From the area, he served in the Civil War along side Marion Morrison, John Wayne’s great-grandfather. The interpretive center did a great job in humanizing the civil populations reactions and sufferings during an occupation.

It rained the night through and morning was still wet and threatening when we went out. We decided to try the River Walk and Museum.  The barges were floating on a full river.

The little museum was closed and the river walk flooded.

We drove away and looked back at an old bridge with a high water mark.

 

CUSTOM HOUSE MUSEUM, CLARKSVILLE

On a ride through town we saw this beautiful building. It is the old Custom House and guess what? It is now a museum and cultural centers. So, yesterday we visited.

This gorgeous old chest with hand carved handles is part of their permanent collection.

Also part of the permanent collection this delightful painting. I could look at it all day.

Wasn’t this bathing “costume” the cat’s pajamas in its day?

An old cotton bale wheelbarrow.

A horse-drawn hearse.

I liked the fancy effect of this push cart fire wagon. Kind of reminded me of a Cinderella carriage.

The museum hosts special exhibits, one of which was a raw wood-carver.

Another exhibit, a whole collection of resin birds frozen in motion. As beautiful as they are, there is something about them that just doesn’t move me like paintings and photos of birds.

I like the fact they help identify birds you see from your window.

My favorite exhibit is entitled Women Painting Women. It will be here through May if you are in the area.

By Gwendolyn Rodriguez. Perfectly sweet.

Easy Ride by Sharon R. Shaver.

This wasn’t from the exhibit, but a beauty of a poster in the Children’s section of the Museum which has toys and a slew of model trains on display.

One room was dedicated to sport. It all started with Olympian Wilma Rudolph, a Clarksville resident that brought home three gold medals in 1960. They’ve named a street after her as well. Wilma Rudolph Blvd.

Wilma helped build relationships between the black and white community in Clarksville. There is a tinge of sadness to that fact.

Having lived through the 1960′s in the very liberal state of California, I’m still stunned. Not that my community was without prejudice, but the south really retained its divisions in  petty ways, we just never heard about them. I admire the curator’s honesty and hope it helps some.

In the afternoon, I had a massage to help alleviate my neck problems and later we had dinner at the VFW Post where we are staying. Out my  window this morning , it is looking like a wet and rainy day here in Clarksville.