Early Hours at Plymouth Rock

128 years after the Spanish and Portuguese got things rolling over here in America a bunch of English folks decided to get in on the action.  290 years after that, I followed suit. 

Turkey Dinner, here we come!

 With plans to photograph the site of our nations founding at sunrise, symbolism and whatnot, I arrived in Plymouth somewhere between way-to-early, and 4am.  Upon arrival I remembered a life lesson I have long since known, which is that no matter how early you rise, you will not get out-and-about before either old people, or fog.  This morning I was bested by fog. 

The rigging of the Mayflower... sounds like the title of a historical fiction thriller.

 The Pilgrims sailed a ship called the Mayflower in hopes of finding religious freedom; I drove a vehicle called a van in hopes of finding a little financial security.  Those are kind of the same thing right? 

A reproduction of the Pilgrim's vessel.

 About 50 yards away from the reproduced ship is the rock itself. 

In 1933 a social studies student who had problems memorizing dates, took chisel in hand and created the best cheat-sheet that following generations could ask for.

 Looking down at the walled in stone, fighting to get Malcolm X quotes out of my head, I realized that history is best learned through experience, rather than theory.  So I went for it. 

If the Pilgrims could land on Plymouth rock, so could I.

 Appreciating that oft debated historical piece of geology, I recalled a forgotten principle of physics.  Two hundred Sixty pounds goes down, much easier than it goes up.  Standing at the bottom of that walled in pit, I mused that those who “break with convention” as I had cannot exactly call for help.  While pondering upon this I realized that our fore-fathers, who discarded their native lands religious regulations, had done just that.  They asked for help!  Maybe I could do the same. 

Massasoit was apparently fed-up with helping as he refused to lend me a hand.

Driving on to my next locale I pondered if we can ever know how things really were in the past, just as a reader can never really know if my tale is fiction or not.  My story is written, I have photographs, yet still, there is room for debate.

All I have to say, is no one not cast in bronze was there to see me, so my word is all you have.



Filed under history, places

3 responses to “Early Hours at Plymouth Rock

  1. Isn’t there rumor of you having some sort of ancestor closely related to this site? http://www.pilgrimhall.org/whitep.htm
    Though, I thought there was something in our history books about a daughter, not a son. Can you set me straight?

  2. You’d probably really enjoy reading Nathaniel Philbrick’s non-fiction book called simply “Mayflower”.

    It’s been out for 2-3 years, but I just got around to it recently.

    Check out my review if you have time.


  3. @Judson, great review. welcome to the blog.

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