Faded History
There are ghosts everywhere you look, even if you can't see them.
No, I'm not necessarily talking about "poltergeist" ghosts. I'm talking about faded history. The lessons, the legends, and the lives of the past are all around us. And most are hiding in plain sight.
All you have to do is dig (figuratively and literally) to find that incredible world. History doesn't die, although it can camouflage itself very well at times. Seeking out these places and stories is an addicting, captivating and endless journey. It's one that has always fascinated me.
When I was a kid, there was a dilapidated, abandoned house along my school bus route. Everyday when I passed that old house, I wondered what happened there? Who lived there? What stories could those walls tell? What events occurred inside that old house? Did someone die there? Was someone born there? Did someone got married there?
I'm sure this is where my love of history started. To this day, when I see an old, deserted house or crumbling barn, my imagination is engrossed; I can't help but wonder what tales those buildings could tell. What narrative has been lost to time, known only to the people who once lived there?
Even most mundane building can be historically intriguing. This photo is a great example of faded history:
It's a hardware store, right? Unless you need a hammer or a plunger, you'd walk right by and not give the place a second thought.
But what if I told you this Ace Hardware used to be the Sunset Cafe, the most important and influential jazz club in the United States in the early 1920's?
Legendary performers such as Cab Calloway, Jimmy Dorsey, Gene Krupa, Benny Goodman, and Charlie Parker played here. Most significantly, this was the building where "Louis Armstrong and his Stompers" became the house band. The young musician from New Orleans did things on the trumpet that no one had ever heard before.
And inside this building is where he first blew away the jazz world.
Just a hardware store, huh?
Not long ago I was watching a documentary on the escape of Abraham Lincoln's assassin, John Wilkes Booth. Booth shot Lincoln on the evening of April 14, 1865 and fled south from Washington, D.C. Over the course of 12 days, he hid in the swamps and marshes of southern Maryland, made a valiant and unlikely night time escape across the Potomac River and slipped into Virginia.
The largest manhunt in United States history (still to this day) came to an end two miles southwest of Port Royal, Virginia, at the tobacco farm of Richard Garrett.
Booth and an accomplice were cornered by Union troops inside Garrett's tobacco barn. The barn was set on fire and Booth was ultimately shot in the neck by a sniper. Booth's spinal cord was severed, leaving him paralyzed from the neck down.
He was carried to the porch of the Garrett home where he died in the early morning hours of April 26th.
I was shocked to find out that there is no trace left of the Garrett farmstead. In this case, faded history has been completely erased. This place of such significance in American history is now simply a median between the north and southbound lanes of highway 301.
Incredibly, the location of the tobacco barn, Booth's final hide out, is now in the middle of the southbound lane, just north of the dropped pin. This area was bulldozed and paved in the 1960s.
The original road from 1865 is the northbound lane, just south of the pin.
Below is a 1937 photograph, the last known picture of the actual Garrett farmhouse. This photo was taken 72 years after John Wilkes Booth drew his last breath on the front porch. The house has long since been razed and forever lost to time. Like the Garrett tobacco barn, not a single artifact of its existence survives.
Indeed, there are ghosts all around you, even if you can't see them.
You just have to know where and what you're looking for... and the journey continues.
No, I'm not necessarily talking about "poltergeist" ghosts. I'm talking about faded history. The lessons, the legends, and the lives of the past are all around us. And most are hiding in plain sight.
All you have to do is dig (figuratively and literally) to find that incredible world. History doesn't die, although it can camouflage itself very well at times. Seeking out these places and stories is an addicting, captivating and endless journey. It's one that has always fascinated me.
When I was a kid, there was a dilapidated, abandoned house along my school bus route. Everyday when I passed that old house, I wondered what happened there? Who lived there? What stories could those walls tell? What events occurred inside that old house? Did someone die there? Was someone born there? Did someone got married there?
I'm sure this is where my love of history started. To this day, when I see an old, deserted house or crumbling barn, my imagination is engrossed; I can't help but wonder what tales those buildings could tell. What narrative has been lost to time, known only to the people who once lived there?
Even most mundane building can be historically intriguing. This photo is a great example of faded history:
It's a hardware store, right? Unless you need a hammer or a plunger, you'd walk right by and not give the place a second thought.
But what if I told you this Ace Hardware used to be the Sunset Cafe, the most important and influential jazz club in the United States in the early 1920's?
Legendary performers such as Cab Calloway, Jimmy Dorsey, Gene Krupa, Benny Goodman, and Charlie Parker played here. Most significantly, this was the building where "Louis Armstrong and his Stompers" became the house band. The young musician from New Orleans did things on the trumpet that no one had ever heard before.
And inside this building is where he first blew away the jazz world.
Just a hardware store, huh?
Not long ago I was watching a documentary on the escape of Abraham Lincoln's assassin, John Wilkes Booth. Booth shot Lincoln on the evening of April 14, 1865 and fled south from Washington, D.C. Over the course of 12 days, he hid in the swamps and marshes of southern Maryland, made a valiant and unlikely night time escape across the Potomac River and slipped into Virginia.
The largest manhunt in United States history (still to this day) came to an end two miles southwest of Port Royal, Virginia, at the tobacco farm of Richard Garrett.
Booth and an accomplice were cornered by Union troops inside Garrett's tobacco barn. The barn was set on fire and Booth was ultimately shot in the neck by a sniper. Booth's spinal cord was severed, leaving him paralyzed from the neck down.
He was carried to the porch of the Garrett home where he died in the early morning hours of April 26th.
I was shocked to find out that there is no trace left of the Garrett farmstead. In this case, faded history has been completely erased. This place of such significance in American history is now simply a median between the north and southbound lanes of highway 301.
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| The Garrett farm house stood at the approximate location of the dropped pin in the middle of the above screen shot. To the immediate north and south of the pin are the southbound and northbound lanes (respectively) of highway 301. Fort A.P. Hill is just to the west (off the map), built in 1941. Port Royal, VA, is two miles to the northeast. |
Incredibly, the location of the tobacco barn, Booth's final hide out, is now in the middle of the southbound lane, just north of the dropped pin. This area was bulldozed and paved in the 1960s.
The original road from 1865 is the northbound lane, just south of the pin.
Below is a 1937 photograph, the last known picture of the actual Garrett farmhouse. This photo was taken 72 years after John Wilkes Booth drew his last breath on the front porch. The house has long since been razed and forever lost to time. Like the Garrett tobacco barn, not a single artifact of its existence survives.
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| Courtesy: Library of Virgina |
You just have to know where and what you're looking for... and the journey continues.
