Buried deep in the hills of Vinton County, Ohio you’ll find an abandoned railroad tunnel that was once part of the B&O Railroad. Today it’s the centerpiece of the Moonville Rail Trail and a destination for both ghost hunters and graffiti artists.
This is public property and an amazing historic site that people insist on vandalizing with their paint cans. Between that and the locks people attach to one of the bridges that volunteers worked years to build , a trip here is both a fun adventure and little irritating.
Why do people insist on leaving their mark on what is not theirs?
This time, though, the graffiti was actual art.
I was kind of impressed that someone could do all this with a spray can.
I still don’t condone spray paint on property where the owners say “please don’t” but I do wish that there were more public spaces where folks like this could show off their skills.
Scout went to the vet yesterday for the second time in a week. He sang the song of his people all the way there and most of the way back. He clearly knew where we were going and he was not having it.
You see, we went for a routine annual visit last week but the dr found a heart murmur. We did blood work and it luckily isn’t cause by a heart condition. Instead, they are concerned about his high blood sugar and wanted him back for a glucose test.
So, in case you’re counting (because Scout sure is), I dragged him from home last week so he could be prodded by strangers who would stick him with a shot before sticking him with a needle to take his blood.
This week, things were less dramatic but he did get stuck with another needle.
Unacceptable.
He let me know that he would be speaking to Santa Claws about all this. He had some choice words for where I could go and what I could do with the proverbial horse I rode in on too.
He gets so anxious in the car and at the vet. Even his little paws are sweaty and clammy so that undoubtedly impacts his bloodwork. Poor guy.
Our pets are like our children and it’s hard to help them when they can’t verbalize how they’re feeling. So we just do our best and hope to not be murdered in our sleep after a vet visit.
The first time I saw Heart Mountain, it was a bleak and dreary day. That suited the mood of what we were about to endure – an interpretive center that breathes life into the story of an internment camp where Japanese Americans were held during World War II.
The interpretive center here is one of the very best I’ve ever experienced as they do a wonderful job not just telling the story but making you feel something for strangers.
It’s called empathy and we don’t have enough of this emotion these days.
It is an undeniable fact that Japan was our enemy and an unwaveringly cruel one at that. We were at war and our government argued that Japanese immigrants on this soil could present a threat. Never mind that many of these people had lived here for years and were proud, loyal Americans. Many were young children who should have been attending school with their friends and working on their Boy Scout projects.
Our government drew an arbitrary line down the western part of the United States and said anyone west of the line had to be contained. Never mind those folks living in the entire rest of the country. We were only concerned about the Japanese Americans who lived in that small area.
These camps were in places like Colorado, California, Wyoming and Arizona. About 2/3 of the 120,000 people sent to these camps were American citizens.
Heart Mountain is located near Cody, Wyoming which must have felt like a forsaken place, too cold and windy for west coasters who came without decent clothes, shoes or coats for the cold weather.
They left behind jobs, homes and businesses. They left behind middle class status. They left behind people and places important to them. They were permitted to bring just what they could carry in a suitcase and forced to sell, store or give away the rest of their possessions. They were not permitted to have pets and were forced to leave them behind.
They were assigned small barracks with thin walls, potbelly stoves for heat, and not enough fuel to go around.
Yet, they created a community where their children were educated and where they formed social clubs that made life better in that place. Many remained patriotic, proudly flying their American flags and insisting that their country would not do this to them if it weren’t for the good of the nation.
I read a comment by a man who said that they could have been marched off to their deaths and wouldn’t have known better. They went because they thought it was the right thing to do.
Racism toward Asian American people wasn’t a new concept. White farmers and business people didn’t like the competition from these “lesser” neighbors. It was commonly believed that Asian people were innately inferior and could never be real Americans.
Can you imagine?
But it’s this kind of racism that allows otherwise reasonable people to buy whatever lies and hysteria politicians are selling. It is this kind of racism that justifies ignoring the Constitution of the United States in favor of cruel indifference and a refusal of due process to those who have done nothing wrong.
How do you teach democracy in an internment camp?
That’s one of many questions you’ll explore there.
Heart Mountain is one of the single most important places I have visited and one that every American should experience for themselves. Honestly, I am doing a horrible job telling you this story. That’s due in part because it is such a complicated story to unwind and relate in a blog. Entire books have been written about what we did to those people and about what happened to some of them when they left. It’s also because this is one of the most gut wrenching places I have seen.
Our tour started with a short video that gave an overview of the Heart Mountain story. By the time the lights went up, I knew we were in for a special experience. Everyone should know these stories because we are doomed to repeat our mistakes when we ignore our history. This white washing of American history because it makes people feel bad for things that weren’t their fault is absolutely one of the dumbest things I have heard. Learning from the mistakes of our culture and the people before us is part of being human.
After the video, there are interactive displays, photos, and artifacts to help you learn the stories and understand the challenges these folks faced here.
The last time I saw Heart Mountain was a couple of days later. We returned to walk a short trail at sunset. At the center of this trail is a monument to the approximately 750 young men and women who were Heart Mountain residents who served their nation’s armed forces during World War II. These are the same young people whose liberties were stripped away by that very government.
Fifteen of them gave their lives for that nation.
We were there at the end of a beautiful day as the setting sun began to stripe the sky with colors only found in nature. It felt a little like nature was paying tribute to those who served as well as those who were born and died here, the ones who lost their homes and livelihoods, the ones who started over with a bus ticket and $25 in their pocket along with the silence of their government.
If you ever find yourself in the Cody area, please go visit Heart Mountain and experience it for yourself. If you are so inclined, there are many books written about the internment camps. Perhaps try reading one of them for help grasping why this matters. Visit Heart Mountain online.
In the original 1964 Adams Family television show, daughter Wednesday Adams uttered one of my all-time favorite lines. It’s so nice and gloomy.
I thought about that statement a lot yesterday as rain settled in across southern Ohio. As the sky darkened, folks scurried down the street, pulling their jackets tighter from beneath their umbrellas.
It was a perfect rainy November day and I was all for it. My only complaint was that it wasn’t a weekend when I could be home to enjoy the whole thing.
So I went skipping home after work, lit the Christmas tree and put on warm pajamas before doing a few chores. A hot dinner plus cuddle time with Scout while I watched the Ken Burns documentary made for a delightful ending to a delightful rainy day.
It’s sometimes a little surprising to me how different I am from other people. Dark, gloomy days are invigorating to me. I breathe better. I work harder. I’m happier. The small comforts last night – warm pjs, a good baked potato, some twinkle lights, time with my cat – were like a big ole dollop of whipped cream atop my proverbial mug of hot chocolate.
I’m fortunate to be a weirdo who welcomes the rainy days. I’m also lucky to understand the value of making the best of things and of having a place of one’s own to feather a nest and to rest and recharge.
Enjoy your day, friends. I hope it brings something that will make you happy.
When the Twentieth Century Theater opened in 1941, art deco was on the decline. Yet that’s the design style that was used for this Cincinnati movie palace. Today it’s a mixed use facility where you might catch a live stage show or even attend a wedding or corporate event.
Located in the city’s Oakley neighborhood, it fell out of use in the early eighties and suffered decline before its rescue from ruin. The lobby is gorgeous and features a sweeping staircase to the balcony as well as a nice bar. The sidewalk facing ticket booth is still there but not in use.
They did a nice job of transforming the theater into a versatile space where comfortable theater seats can be easily removed to make way for table seating, The stage isn’t huge but it was a great size for the Sean of the South show I saw earlier this month.
But the true marvel of this theater is its exterior appearance. It is a landmark like none other with its awe inspiring marquee and gorgeous larger than life mural paintings of old time cinema greats.
There’s a nice green space across the street and the theater is clearly well loved. My only complaint is that the parking lot is minuscule and there is no parking garage in the neighborhood. There is street parking and it’s a safe neighborhood for walking or you could make it even easier and Uber there.
We are probably lucky that the 20th Century Theater has lived to see the 21st century. Seeing a show here felt like a great gift and I couldn’t help but think about what these walls would say if they could talk.
They have done a great job of marrying the old and new and celebrating the building’s character while making it relevant for a new century.
Go see a show there if you can! You can learn more at their website. Incidentally, this was Cincinnati’s first air conditioned movie theater. I recently told you about the first air conditioned building in Wyoming. Read that story here.
