Grayson • Olive Hill Quarterly Spring 2019 - Page 11

Our “Finding Kentucky in Other Places” series has been a joy to bring to you. With our travels, we endeavor to find little pieces of home while hundreds of miles away. We have been successful in doing so, but this trip proved to be more of a challenge. It’s easy to find little pieces of home in our surrounding states, but it’s not so easy in Boston or the greater New York City area. It just so happens that these two massive cities were just part of an overall journey to a place that we had never endeavored, New England. We decided to take the opportunity to go on a road trip that we had always wanted to take. The New England states had eluded us in our journeys until this trip. As we made our way north from Baltimore to Maine, and several points in between, it seemed that the only aspect of Kentucky to be found was our vehicle and the people inside of it. Our southern drawl could not be camouflaged amongst the sea of Northerners and locals. It’s always a conversation starter, and believe it or not, those from the North find our accents charming. This edition of our series is going to be a little different. Instead of finding bits of Kentucky in other places, I found myself reminiscing of home as I visited these locations that a small kid growing up in the Commonwealth only dreamed of going. I think back to moments in my childhood, and throughout my life, of the different landmarks and locations that were visited on this trip. So, we did find Kentucky in other places, but I found it hallways of my memory and personal experiences. Baltimore is a beautiful city. Whether you go to inner harbor, catch an Orioles or Ravens game, or enjoy some truly legitimate seafood, its charm is sure to catch your attention. Although a very large place, it honestly had a small town feel to it. We enjoyed lunch at a fabulous restaurant called Jimmy’s Seafood, famous for their crab cakes, and sought out some points of interest. I drove past Camden Yards, home of the Orioles, and found myself at Westminster Hall and Burial Ground. Declared a historic landmark in 1974, this location is the burial site of Edgar Allan Poe. A legend of macabre, Poe’s works are widely enjoyed to this day. The grounds are a haunting tribute to the 19th century, and just to be honest, a bit creepy. As mentioned before, there were stops that reminded me of home, and this one did. I can remember being in middle school, and one of our assignments was to read “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe. I can remember being intrigued by it. It’s mystery and rhyme were fascinating to me, so much so that I remember it all these years later. It was quite an experience to be at the gravesite of the man who penned this legendary poem. In September 2001, I was in college and was prepared to take an important test later in the afternoon. A teacher in our building peaked his head into our classroom and asked if we heard what was going on. Clueless, he began to tell us that a plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center. As the day unfolded, it became clear to all of us what was happening. Standing in Liberty Park in New Jersey, I gazed across the Hudson River towards Manhattan. I stood there staring at the New World Trade Center. With the Statue of Liberty standing proud to my right, I was peering towards a city that I only dreamed of visiting. As a (continued) SPRING 2019 11