You Say You Want a Revolution

Our kids are history nerds. Specifically, American History nerds. It wasn't something we planned. We didn't push them into it. Personally, I find history fascinating now, but I wasn't really that way as a kid. This wasn't our agenda. We didn't force it down their throats. No, they truly love it. On their own. 

“If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace.”

― Thomas Paine

Part of me likes to think it all started on our trip to Mount Rushmore. Something about being it that place, and seeing those faces carved on a mountain. It sparked an interest in them that hasn't subsided. In reality, though, it probably has more to do with their love of the American Girl franchise. When they lived. Where they lived. How they lived. Whatever it was, anything historically American, they devoured. Presidents and First Ladies. Battles and Wars. What people ate. How they dressed. How they died. All of it. So, since we were going to be in some of the most historically significant places in our country, we would seize the opportunity. We'd witness first hand where our country was born. We'd stand in the same places our founding fathers once stood. We'd visit their final resting places. We'd take it all in. We would learn from our past.

It all started in Boston. And by that, I mean our country began there. The first ideas of Revolution and Independence were born in what was once the largest city in the colonies. Eventually, most of the major events that lead us down the path of war also happened there. The thinkers, the radicals, the patriots all began in Boston. So, it made sense that we started our field trip there, at the center of colonial resistance.

“The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time 

to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.”

- Thomas Jefferson

March 5, 1770. For two years now, tensions had been building, as British troops occupied Boston in an attempt to squash the ever growing dissent. Fights between citizens and soldiers were commonplace. That night, a crowd began harassing a group of soldiers guarding the customs house. Snowballs were thrown. Someone discharged their musket, sparking a volley into the crowd. Five civilians were killed.

"Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness"

Today Boston is a big city, filled with all the trappings that comes with being one. Yet over the centuries, as it grew into what it is, a serious effort was made to preserve the important historical places amid the bustling metropolis. The freedom trail is one result of that. This 2½ mile long path runs through the city and connects (literally with red bricks) all these important spots. Museums. Churches. Meeting houses. Burial grounds. Historic markers. We would begin here.

Throughout my schooling, the American Revolution was hammered into our brains. Every year. We learned the causes. The dates. The people. The places. They glamorized our founding fathers. Here were these great men, these great leaders that stood up to tyranny, broke free and formed this new, mighty country. Together. United. Facing a powerful enemy. All for the noble causes of freedom and liberty. Pretty great stuff. That's what I always thought I guess. The patriots all stood up against England, and collectively started our nation. I should have thought about it more. When have you ever known a group of anybody to come together, in unison, and easily agree on something? On anything? Trying to appease everyone is impossible. Sometimes picking a restaurant for a group can be unnerving. But, starting a revolution? Forming a new country? A new government? As a group? Unthinkable. Not without constant conflict and disagreement the entire way.

“These are the times that try men's souls.” -Benjamin Franklin

December 16, 1773 

Angered by what they thought to be unfair taxes on tea, a growing number of American patriots demanded action. On this night, they did. There was still much disagreement on what was the correct course of action. For days, the well known leaders debated and argued at the Old South Meeting house about how to send a message to England. They had had enough. Meanwhile, several lesser-known men (acting on orders from the men still arguing) went to the Boston harbor, and dumped £9,000 of East India Company tea overboard. While still pretending to debate their actions, they had already been carried out.

Constant conflict and disagreement are two things our family understands. Jenny and I have been together for over 20 years. Our three young girls are close together in age. We all spend a lot of time together. More than most families. It's inescapable. Fights happen. There is drama. There is conflict. Often. Our kids are home-schooled, so there is plenty of opportunity throughout each and every day for them to flip out on each other. And they do. Daily. Then, eventually they separate. They go to their rooms, or outside or wherever it is, just to get away from each other. Time passes, and they get over it. They forget, or move on. They go back to their default mode of “actually liking each other, or at least pretending to... for now...” Then something sparks it again. Repeat that on a never-ending loop, and that is our lives. On the road, it's not that simple. When you're in a hotel, where can you run off to and pout? The closet? (Nadia did once.) When schedules are tight, how can you make time for fighting? You just do. When it's crowded and bustling where you are, how can you yell it out? How can you cry and scream? You find a way. (we have)

"One if by land. Two if by sea."

April 18-19 1775

War was eminent now. As British troops continued to build, the issue was no longer IF they would attack, it was WHERE and WHEN. Upon hearing word that England was advancing, Paul Revere, and the Sons of Liberty warned the countryside of their advance. Lexington and Concord would be first. War had begun.

 

A full three years went by between the massacre and the tea party. Three years before taking grand measures. It was then three more years after that before we declared our independence. By today's standards that seemed like a long time to me. What took so long? Why the delay? Sure, things took longer back then. I get that. Correspondences were slow. Travel was even slower. But it wasn't just that. It was all the infighting. The bickering. Just like our family, drama slowed everything down. Getting everyone to agree on something so grand was challenging. So, then surely once the war began, everyone in the colonies would come together in agreement, right?

If Boston was where the ideas for this country were dreamed up, then Philadelphia is where they became a realization. That would be our next stop. 

The last piece to my East Coast family, is my Mom's only brother, my Uncle Jimmy. He lives in the house he grew up in, just outside of Philadelphia. 
 

After retiring from a long and accomplished career as a high school band director, Jimmy followed his other real passion: acting. As a professional theater actor, he has performed in dozens of shows, and just the right one was in store for our visit.

James Conte as Hopkins (in the hat)

1776: The Musical tells the story of the Continental Congress and their long drawn out debates over what eventually became the Declaration of Independence. The cast were all members of that original Congress. Each representing a different colony. The hard selling John Adams. The wise Ben Franklin (uncannily played by John Morrison.) The young and unproven Thomas Jefferson. The drunken Stephen Hopkins (hilariously played by Jimmy!) 

“We must all hang together,
or assuredly we shall
all hang separately.”
-Benjamin Franklin

They sat and argued. And argued. And argued. Each bringing their own ideals into the mix. Their own agendas. No one seemed to agree about anything. It felt like nothing was ever going to get done. What were these guys, a bunch of siblings? Even though we already knew the ending, (SPOILER ALERT: They signed it.) we kept wondering, how did this ever happen? How did anything get accomplished? Their infighting was endless. These colonies wanted it this way. These other colonies wanted it that way. Vote like this. Say it like that. Nothing. Everything. Nothing. Imagine a colonial 12 Angry Men. Now add one more guy. And some singing. That was the show. It was compelling. And telling. And maddening. By the end, the girls had picked out the delegates they liked and the ones they couldn't stand. (“stupid South Carolina guy”) They were definitely paying attention. 

"Let us dare to read, think, speak, and write." 

-John Adams

July 2, 1776 The Continental Congress unanimously agrees to declare their independence from Britain. Two days later the document stating our intentions was signed at Independence Hall, forever changing our country.

 We had seen who these great leaders were. We stood in some of the homes where they lived. We walked through buildings they walked through. We sat in rooms they debated in. We knelt at their grave sites. We started to see them differently. They weren't perfect. They had hidden agendas. Some were rude. Loud. Self righteous. Ambiguous. Their ideas weren't perfect either. They fought. They compromised. They reasoned. They made it work. Somehow.

“"I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!"

- Patrick Henry

“Tell me and I forget. 

Teach me and I remember. 

Involve me and I learn.”

- Benjamin Franklin

But in the end (obviously) our Founding Father's did it. They came to an agreement. They put their names down on that document. Together. They worked out their differences. They made compromises. All for a greater good. Maybe my schooling was right all along. Maybe, it's really WHAT these men accomplished that's important. Not necessarily how they got there. Or what was said to each other. Or the compromises they made. Maybe none of that mattered. Maybe that's the lesson our kids will take away from this. People disagree. Things are said. Arguments ensue. But, that's how things get solved. That's how great things are created. Adversity. Struggle. Resolution. It never comes easy. It shouldn't. But in the end, it's worth it.

In the end, our travels won't be remembered for the fights on the subways. The tears in the streets. The disagreements on what to listen to in the car. In then end, it's what we do that matters.  
 




So, I guess, we should continue on fighting then. Continue arguing. Keep crying. And yelling. Then we'll just work it all out. We'll resolve it. We'll grow from it. Things will get better.

And who knows, maybe a new country or two will come out of it.

Lesson learned.

Boston Strong

In 1897, just one year after the success of the first ever modern day marathon, they held the inaugural Boston Marathon. Ever since then, the 3^rd Monday in April has been as special one for the entire area. Since its inception, the race has coincided with Patriots Day, a huge state wide holiday. Now, I had always heard about Patriots Day, a day set aside to honor the Revolutionary War battles of Lexington and Concord. I knew what it was. At least, I thought I did. I just never realized what it was actually like.

The Woodman family name is an old and established one in that part of the country. In the early 1600s, one particular Woodman, Edward, sailed from England to the colonies to help establish a new town in Massachusetts. 

For generations since that Woodman's arrival, and others as well, the family name has grown throughout New England. There are Woodman's all over. One of the family's claims to fame is the invention of the fried clam. People drive for miles in the New England area to make a pilgrimage to Woodman's and enjoy fried clams made from the family's original recipe. Three and a half centuries after Edward Woodman came to Massachusetts, his 10^th great-grandson (me) was also born in the area, in nearby Connecticut. Three years later, my dad took a job in St. Louis, and just like that, my days as a New Englander were over. Fate had decided that I would grow up as a Midwesterner, instead.

My sister Kelly is a running machine. She always has been. I'm not totally sure, but if someone told me she's was part robot at this point, I would probably believe them. Marathons for her? “Whatever.” Iron Man Triathlons? “No biggie.” Oh while you're at it, go ahead and pop out a litter of kids in-between races... “What else you got?” 26.2 miles to Kelly is like .2 miles to the rest of us mortals. Second nature. Dare I say, easy. So, it came as a surprise to no one, when she announced she would once again be one of the 30,000 participants in the Boston Marathon. Her third straight year running the race. No sweat.

What a difference 30 years makes.

After moving to Missouri, we visited our family back East sporadically. My Dad's only brother and his wife lived in Massachusetts. I remember when each of my two younger cousins were little. We saw them a few times, as kids. But, now, as an adult, I had only been back twice. Both times for each of my Grandmothers' funerals. Both visits were brief. I hadn't kept up with my East Coast family at all. Not really, anyways. An email from a cousin, here, a Christmas letter from my Aunt, there. I knew what everyone was up to. But that was about it. My only two cousins were adults now. They were both married and had started their own families. And I hadn't spent any real time with any of them in over 30 years. This year it would be different. This trip would remedy that.

To say that Boston embraces the marathon and Patriots Day is a vast understatement. We were not prepared for the amount of love that flowed from spectators that day. The race is a point-to-point one, meaning it has 26 miles to wind through the entire city. And all along the route, some 500,000 people cheered the runners on. Half a million. Picture that many people. The Boston Marathon ranks behind only the Super Bowl as the largest single day sporting event in the world. And these fans weren't just casually standing around, or using the day as an excuse to hang out and drink on a Monday. No. They were fully vested in the race. Cheering everyone on. Really cheering. Everyone. From the very beginning, when the elite leaders ran by (whose names and splits they all knew) all the way until the back of the pack passed hours later. People genuinely cheered. They shouted out people's names as they ran past (many runners wrote their own names on themselves somewhere.) Like real fans. “Go Jerry!” “You rock, Alice!” The entire time. They cheered. For runners. It was so great. So unreal. Boston loved this race. It was their race. And they showed it.

My cousin Christine and her husband Saul graciously offered their house up to us, for our visit. Offered is the wrong word. Insisted is more accurate. "OK...but our gang can be a handful,” I warned. With Kelly and her oldest son (Sebastian) staying there too, they assured us, “We'll make it work.” Right from the beginning, they did so much more than that. Saul, my newly-met cousin-in-law (is that what you call them?) treated us like we were guests on the Promenade Deck, and he was our cruise director. The slightest bit hungry? Here's some amazingly delicious food Saul just showed up with. Not hungry at all? Here's a box of mouth-watering cannolis that Saul ran out and grabbed. Totally stuffed? You can't be. There's more coming. More different kinds of local beer. More desserts from other bakeries. More. More. More. We wanted for nothing. Saul was our own personal concierge. “You need to go to this place,” he instructed. “And when you do, you gotta eat this.” So we did. We listened. We followed his advice. And we all left with our pants a little tighter.

Kelly struggled in this race. And when I say she struggled, I'm using that term loosely. Struggled by her robot-humanoid standards. Not by any sane person's standards. She hadn't trained at all. (Who does that?) And I mean not at all. A couple of injuries had kept her from running even once, leading up to the race. “Hopefully I won't have to walk the whole way.” she declared. She didn't. Even being unprepared, was only a slight challenge for her. Her body still knew what to do. Maybe her battery backup finally kicked in. But she willed herself on.

There was no struggle for us and my cousins. Everything came easy. Right from the start, it felt like we had known one another always. We had, I guess...technically...known them that long. Just with big gaps in between. But the gaps didn't show. Ever. When my other cousin Emily and her family joined in, nothing skipped a beat. It felt like all we did was hang out and shoot the breeze, pretty much our entire stay. There was no awkwardness. No disinterest. We all clicked. Like a real family does, I guess. Except, we hadn't spent enough time with them yet to have all the stupid baggage that normally gets in the way with families. No, with us, it was just the good stuff. We laughed. We told stories. Some old ones. Some new ones. We discovered shared familial characteristics (like our Grandmother's snore!) It was more than we had hoped for. It was perfect.

We know about them now.

Even better than hitting it off with my cousins, was watching the girls get to know their second cousins. Their connections were immediate and real and pure. They played a lot. They laughed even more. They had "sleepovers." They cried when it was time to leave. At one point Nina exclaimed joyfully, “It's like we had this whole other family that we never knew about.”

 

When Kelly stopped and chatted with us at our spot around mile 18, she seemed to be in an upbeat mood. After all, she was running in the greatest road race in America, and she got to share it with her family. She didn't seem to mind that her quads were killing her. She didn't seem to care that she had to walk as much as she did. I have to imagine that just competing in that event is an amazing experience. Every time she did it. Half a million screaming fans. That would never get old. Kelly finished the race in 4:34:22. Not a great time by her (own insane) standards. Parts of her ached, and other parts flat out hurt, but her body willed her on. She endured. She ran well. It shouldn't have surprised anyone. She was a runner, after all. She has been forever.

The day we left Boston, I found myself trying to make sense of what had happened. Why was I feeling so euphoric? This had been the first time, as an adult, that I had hung out with my family like this. Not counting my parents. Not counting my in-laws. Not counting my litter of kids. The rest of the people I shared my DNA with. The East Coast Woodman's. I hadn't had any real connection with any of them at all. Up until now. Yet, somehow we were still connected. We had a commonality. That thing you share with people you are related to. That thing that makes you alike. Your genetics. You souls. Your being. Whatever it was. It was there. Here was this bond that I had discovered, that I didn't even know I was missing. We all melded together seamlessly. Perfectly. I don't know why it surprised me. It shouldn't have. We were a family, after all. We have been forever.

"That whole other family" (L-R) Joey, Nina, Nadia, Sebastian, Jaxon, Zara, Norah, Georgia