don't fear the reaper

While we were in Baltimore I threw out the idea of visiting the Edgar Allen Poe House. However, after researching the site and conferring with the friends we were staying with, we decided not to. The house is in a bad area of town, and walking there could be potentially dangerous. Instead, we visited the graveyard where Poe was buried, which in many ways was much more exciting for me.

For most people the words "graveyard" and "exciting" never enter the same sentence. They never even enter the same paragraph. But for me, graveyards are exciting.

OK, maybe exciting isn't quite the right word to describe my fascination. I find graveyards beautiful. They are peaceful and quiet. Each is unique, with a personality that can be read the moment you step into them. Whether it's a crooked mishmash of historical cemeteries or the geometric lines of a military site, I can't help but take photos.

My fiance finds this extremely weird.

He understood seeking out Poe's grave. After all, the man is famous, and it seems fitting to visit this particular writer's final resting place. The cemetery and adjoining church are in the heart of downtown Baltimore, but once inside you hardly notice. There are also huge crypts and other unique grave markers that made it a nice photography experience.

He was less thrilled to enter the Copp's Hill burial ground in Boston, but since the Freedom Trail passes right by it, we went in. That proved to be a very interesting stop. We learned about common pre-colonial grave stone motifs and saw a black cat. Yes, an actual black cat was hanging out in the graveyard. Spooky.

He was, again, less than thrilled to visit the cemetery in Salem. But by now he knew I was "kind of into cemeteries" and suggested we go before our tour at the Salem Witch Museum. I was thrilled to recognize some of the motifs I had learned about at Copp's Hill. It's always fun when little pieces of information overlap the places we visit.

By the time I voiced my desire to see Benjamin Franklin's grave in Philadelphia, my fiance was resigned to the fact that this is just another one of my lovable quirks. At least, I hope that's how he sees it. He did navigate me to Franklin, which I doubt he would have done if he was morally opposed to hanging out in a cemetery.

I fully acknowledge that my love of graveyards is strange. Maybe even a little morbid. But it is what it is-- a hobby that I enjoy, even as if creeps the people around me out.

And I'm probably not alone. Our tour of the Mark Twain House was mostly comprised of couples over 55, but there was one family with a daughter no older than 11. At the end of the tour, the guide asked if anyone had any questions. Without hesitation the girl piped up, "I saw in the movie downstairs that one of his [Twain's] daughters died in this house. What room was that in?" This girl posed her question with such earnest reverence that I couldn't help but smile. I half expected her to ask the guide if she could lie down in the bed where it happened. It was so odd, funny, and at the same time adorably cute.

Even my fiance agreed on this.

you're a grand old flag

If you hate American patriotism, do not visit Fort McHenry. Here you will see one of the most patriotic displays I have ever seen outside of the Fourth of July.

Upon entering the visitor's center, you are invited to watch a short film explaining the history of the fort. For those not in the know, Fort McHenry is the site of the events which inspired Francis Scott Key to write "The Star Spangled Banner" during the War of 1812. OK, now that we're all caught up...

The film includes reenactments of the battle, interspersed with informative maps to illustrate the movement of American and British troops. The story reaches it's conclusion, with F.S. Key finding inspiration after a long night of battle. The national anthem begins to swell. Then the screen on which the movie is playing dramatically lifts to reveal a view of the real life Fort McHenry, flag proudly waving in the wind.

Not being at a sporting event and having been expressly instructed to stand, I remain seated. There is movement to my left. Other visitors have stood. Unsure of what to do, I remain seated. Are you supposed to stand every time you hear the national anthem? I can't remember my high school government lessons. Did we even learn that in high school? My Australian fiance also remains seated, but not being American he has a legitimate excuse.* I slyly look to my right. Other visitors have also remained seated, but they are old and also have a legitimate excuse not to stand. The anthem ends, and the screen lowers to set itself for the next viewing.

I feel like a real dick. Clearly I should have stood. My only option now is to let my fiance do all the talking so everyone thinks I'm Australian. But then he starts asking me question which I must answer, so people hear my non-Aussie accent. I secretly hope they think I'm Canadian.

After walking through the small museum inside, we head outdoors and start to walk the park surrounding the fort. As we pass the visitor's center, you can see the window blocked by the movie screen.

"We should just stand right in front of the window with our mouths open," my fiance jokes.
I laugh, "No, we should stand further up on the hill and moon the next group."

I know I should respect my history a little more, but the movie screen is a bit much. And perhaps I feel that way because I was lucky enough to be born in the USA in the first place, and take for granted how easy my life has been because of this. My friend we are staying with told us how her mother, a newly minted American citizen, burst into tears when the movie screen was raised. She's English, but has lived in the US for over two decades now. Her life has been easier than others, but being an American still means something to her. She's genuinely excited to vote for the first time. Her husband is ready to buy a gun just because he can. They are ready to take on all the rights and responsibilities that come with owning this country.

That I can definitely respect.

*He was wearing a Captain America shirt at the time, so some people may have thought he was a dick as well.