Part 1 of this excursion was posted earlier: the picture of the water tower in Conway, AR and the sign for Toad Suck, AR. We pick up now, with “the rest of the story.” And I sort of mixed up the order in which I posted….hopefully this will not be too confusing!
After some meetings, which were the purpose of my trip in the first place, I visited some sites in Northwest Arkansas. One of them was the Great Passion Play site in Eureka Springs, AR.
Though the Passion Play was not what I planned to see (nobody visits to watch it in the winter, except maybe during the holidays), they have other displays on site. One of them was this section of the Berlin Wall, which was acquired when the wall was dismantled, and moved to the US. (
This brought back memories of my father, who was traveling in Germany for business in the 1960’s, and came upon the wall in his sightseeing…wonder if it was this section of the wall, which he actually viewed? He passed away 20+ years ago, so I’ll never know…
A friendly 30something male visitor was kind enough to snap the picture for me, as there was nothing to prop my camera on…
Another (below) is one of the oldest complete bibles. Interesting.
Yours truly in front of the immense cross.
Also in Eureka Springs is the Crescent Hotel…
Lobby of the Crescent, above
This is a very long telephoto view from in the valley (in town), thus it’s not as sharp as I’d normally want, but it gives you the idea of what the place looks like from the other side. The interior is fascinating, with its wood-burning fireplace in the lobby, and just under the red awning in the middle of the building is an outdoor restaurant with a fabulous view of the town and valley. (Too bad I wasn’t in the mood for pizza, and likewise, that this entire trip was made “in the deep freeze.”)
The view from the top of The Crescent? Voila…
This would be stunning in the fall, with autumn colors everywhere!
Also in town is the Eureka Springs and North Arkansas Railroad…
They, like many other businesses, are seasonal, so I wasn’t able to ride. Perhaps I’ll return some day to accomplish that…and stay at the Crescent! My wife would like that, well, maybe except for the ghosts…though like on the Queen Mary in Long Beach, I didn’t see any.
We had a family wedding to attend “four years ago last May”, and that begets the story about shopping for my suit a month before that, since I didn’t need – or own – a “male business suit”, given my retirement years previously. The thought of my wearing a women’s business suit (which I owned) didn’t work for my wife.
Across the bridge we went, shopping – with me wearing a women’s polo, women’s polyester dress slacks (no stirrup pants or leggings today), black tights, flats, acrylic nails, and carrying my purse. No makeup, no lipstick, no jewelry. It’s about as masculine as I can be…
First stop over on “the other side” was a branch of a major men’s clothing chain. It was the place I’d seen ads for suits costing $149. We walked in and were greeted as “ladies.” I inquired (in my male voice) about men’s suits. “We can help you, Ma’am.” (I glanced over at my wife, but she had turned to look at the suits on the nearby rack…intentionally, I suspect.) I said, “Let’s start with the ones advertised for $149. ” “Oh, sorry, Ma’am. That sale has ended, and we have nothing in the store for $149. Our suits now start at $200 and go up from there. The $300 ones are very nice for that price.” I said “Unfortunately, we’re not looking to spend that much, sorry.” And we left the store.
We had another stop to make (for wedding stuff) in that shopping center. I went in with her, and while I was not “miss-identified,” there were no strange looks from any of the women (or young girls) there. When we finished, it was off to another shopping center, this one enclosed, where there was a Macy’s.
Enroute down the shopping center’s main aisle, vendors were pouncing on us two “ladies,” to try to con us into buying things. We both repeatedly said “no thanks” and kept walking, in a couple cases leaving them babbling their spiel to our backs.
Before we knew it, we had reached Macy’s. Since I bought a wonderful heavy winter coat there a few years ago, at a fabulous price, we stopped in, hoping to find similar sales on winter suits. There were sales, all right, but sale prices were even higher than those of the first store. (Like upwards of $400, all designer brands. Who needs a (insert designer name here) suit for $400-$500? Not lil’ ol’ me! To wear once or twice for family occasions.) So we started back into the mall. Walking through the makeup section got us a lot of greetings and “miss-identifications” by the sales ladies…from behind their customer-free counters.
Across the mall we trudged, to a major chain retailer (the one in the news for the past few years for price shenanigans.) There was one clerk in the men’s suit area. After waiting for him to check out some other customers’ small purchases, he finally greeted us as “Hi Ladies.” I asked about suits in my male voice, which changed his form of address for me to “sir.” Which was OK, since I wasn’t trying to femulate. Good news is: He measured me and we determined my current men’s size. Bad news is, he wandered off in the middle of helping me, “to check out a customer.”
Turned out that 4 more customers got in line behind the original one. So, after about 10 minutes of waiting, and three more customers getting in his line, I took off the coat he had me try on. I couldn’t find pants to go with it anyway – nowadays they sell suits as separates, so they can milk people for more in total – and we left. They’re seriously understaffed…not sure why the chain is in financial trouble, with all the money they save by not having enough employees. Could it have something to do with customers not getting service, and just leaving for other stores? In my own case, they lost a nearly $200 sale.
Next we went to the other end of the mall, for a visit to another big chain…also with a staffing problem. There were no clerks at all in the men’s department – it was completely “self-service.” But thanks to the guy who lost the sale at the other store, I already knew my size, found the appropriate coat, and a pair of pants that fit – except for “needing hemmed.” I tried both on to be sure, picked out a belt and tie, and took everything to the centralized check-out clerk. Total with tax came to about $180. Not much more than renting a Tux…or considerably less, if I’d have had to purchase new tux-quality dress shoes. (Incidentally, my wife is OK with my wearing a pair of flats, since that’s all I own, as long as I wear a pair of dark trouser socks.) And I keep the outfit if I ever need to wear a suit again. Yes, I realize that it’s not the finest quality clothing (Macy’s had lots of that – at massively-high prices). But for one wedding and as a “closet stuffer,” it’ll do.
On the way home (no traffic at the bridge at 2 PM) my wife mentioned: “I hope you see why I insist that your hair be pinned into a ponytail for the wedding.” “Go on…” “Because wedding pictures will last forever. When the kids write our names on the back, or label the pictures on the computer, yours is a girl’s name now. I don’t want people to always wonder ‘who’s that big woman standing there with (our son’s) mother?'”
Can’t argue that too hard. To keep the peace, I’m not going to quibble with my wife’s logic…particularly since presenting as unambiguously male is a tad difficult. At least she tolerates my long hair and feminine attire the rest of the time…for that I’m eternally grateful.
During our shopping spree, we couldn’t find a short sleeve shirt to wear with the suit. The wedding is outside, it’s going to be May in the south (probably hot), and I refuse to wear a long sleeve shirt under a dark suit outside, even if short sleeve shirts “aren’t proper with suits.” Once I find a new short sleeve men’s white shirt, I’ll try everything on and see how I look with long hair…masculine or feminine. And maybe even, with the ponytail.
But for now, the die is cast, so, “it will be what it will be…”
Once again, don’t forget that this trip took place several years ago!
On my 4th and final day, I took a slight detour to see another piece of history, in a town with an unusual name: Burnt Cabins, PA. A grist mill exists there, which was built in 1840 and continues to churn out old-fashioned flour in the same manner as it did back then.
The town’s unusual name came about from the cabins of early settlers in the area being torched by provincial forces in about 1750, to satisfy Indian protests against white trespassers on their lands. So, the name is a reminder of troubled days on the Pennsylvania frontier.
From Wikipedia, a more detailed summary: “As a measure of good faith with Native American nation and no small degree of “realpolitik” with their French rivals in the area comprising what is now western Pennsylvania and the Ohio Country, British colonies made pacts agreeing to keep their settlers east of the Appalachian Mountains. Despite the official government position on the matter, settlers from the east in PA and from the south in MD and VA began to trickle into the area that is now Fulton County and other regions. By mid-1749, the various groups of the Iroquois Confederation felt threatened, thus they made official protests to the Provincial government in Philadelphia.”
In response to the complaint of July 18, 1749 the Lt. Governor of the province…issued anedict to all British subjects…to remove themselves, their families and effects, off of those lands. Along with this was a promise that they would take more direct action in 1750.
Thus, in May of 1750 the provincial government sent agents to remove the white squatters from their cabins and settlements. These agents were accompanied by delegates from theIroquois nation to show them the King’s orders were being fulfilled.
About 60 squatters were found on Tuscarora Mountain. Original plans were to arrest, convict, fine and imprison them, but 2 of the first 5 arrested fled, telling officials “you may take our Land and Houses and do what you please with them….but we will not be carried to jail.” And a third squatter met the officials with a loaded gun. (Nothing was said regarding his longevity…)
As a gesture to the Indians, provincial officials decided to burn the cabins of the town (then named Sidneyville). In reality, they only burned 3. But that brought a period of temporary peace to the area.
It was not destined to be permanent. By 1755 settlers had returned en masse. Shawnee and Delaware Indians took matters into their own hands, attacking in great force, in what became known as the Great Cove Massacre. Subsequently, Sidneyville was reborn, but with a new name: You guessed it…Burnt Cabins.
As for served meals – I only found one place in the area which was open, a bar, with a number of clunker type cars in the parking lot. And Mandy (in her skirt, blouse, pantyhose, flats and sweater, didn’t exactly feel comfortable walking into a bar alone. I shivered to myself, at the mere thought of 7 (+ or -) carloads of local males, sitting around their tables and staring at my skirt and legs as I walk in. It probably would have meant enjoying a free dinner, courtesy of “the boys”…but doesn’t take much imagination to figure what the “new girl in town” would have to do for them in return. UGH.
Fortunately there’s a campground just down the road, with a decently stocked store (below), as there weren’t any grocery stores in the area for grub. (From someone who can get meals and basic supplies within a 5 minute drive from home, living out here in the hinterlands wouldn’t appeal in the slightest.)
I made a quick stop at the Lower Tonoloway section of the C&O Canal in Hancock, MD. About a half mile of the canal has been restored and turned into a local historic site. As info, the canal operated from 1831 until 1924, along the Potomac River between Washington DC & Cumberland. It required 74 canal locks, 11 aqueducts to cross major streams, more than 240 culverts to cross minor streams, and the 3,118 ft Paw Paw tunnel in West Virginia.
There are two paths one can choose to walk…the paved old Western Maryland Railroad line on the city side of the canal (the RR was abandoned in the early ‘80’s as duplicate trackage – parent company (CSX) has rails on the other side of the Potomac) and the unpaved canal towpath on the river side. Right alongside the Potomac River, it’s a beautiful place to relax and/or launch your small boat, or rent a bike ($7/hour, or $35 a day. Sounds lucrative, doesn’t it? I’d happily rent out my own bike for $35 a day!)
And my final selfie: At the canal park, in view of the Potomac. At the bike rental place Iwas addressed as a woman, and the ladies I passed all smiled, some with relevant chit-chat about the weather.
Very validating… How do you spell “7th heaven?”
No, you’re not seeing things…the trees are growing at an angle, and I’m standing up straight. Wonderful effect, and it’s not an optical illusion!
Then, after a quick visit to the potty – a porta pot, for those who wondered – it was off for home. As usual, the traffic on I-70 was not good…but at least there were no backups at or on the Bay Bridge.
My major observation for the entire trip was that I did NOT hear the dreaded “S” word at all. YAY!!!! (Even in this politically-conservative geographic area…which still sports many exquisitely-preserved “left-over” Republican campaign posters from the 2016 election season.)
Yes, I was referred to as female by servers and individuals part of the time, but more often it was simply in non-gender-specific terms. (Which is the safest course for the “I’m just not sure” crowd – or for those who disapprove of TG’s, but don’t want to openly stir the pot.) Either way was/is fine with me.
And being out and about amongst the public is a wonderful experience… Now, I await my next excursion…
Once again, remember that this took place several years ago!
Second day there was all business…thus little can be said about it, other than “nearly everyone knew me.” There was no confusion as to my presentation, even by those who didn’t. My wife wasn’t there to make me do it, but I pulled my hair back into a ponytail…ugh. This time, it really seemed to make a difference. Women’s jeans did nothing to alter the “Sir” rut I was in. Yes, it appears the ponytail thing (even tied higher than normal for guys) tips my presentation into male mode.
Well, most of the time. At a recent wedding we attended, even the ponytail with a men’s sport coat didn’t stop servers from addressing me as a female. Much to my wife’s chagrin.
On the third day…I was at last back in girl mode. This was to be an exciting day… Checking out of the motel as a girl elicited no gender specific forms of address. But the same female clerk (who didn’t see me disguised as a boy the day before) seemed much more friendly and talkative.
Time for some more sightseeing before heading east: On the map, I noticed that in thenearby town of Duncansville, there was a park named Chimney Rock Park. The rain was gone and it was just cloudy, so I decided to explore a bit… Found it, and the rock formations didn’t look like chimneys to me, but very pretty nonetheless. What made it special was the view. You drive up a hill to get there, and a short trail takes you to an overlook above the town. Very pretty. And in this case, it was good that there were clouds…the sun might have been an issue as far as pictures go.
Then it was off to the town of Mt. Union, PA – northern terminus of the narrow gauge East Broad Top Railroad, coal hauler from the Broad Top coal fields. The railroad died in the mid 50’s, and got stuck in a time warp – it still looks just the same as it did when the workers went home that fateful night the railroad died (April 14, 1956) – and never came back. Instead of scrapping it lock, stock and barrel, the new owner (a salvage company) allowed it to sit in place.
The EBT was reincarnated in the 1961 season, as a tourist hauler by its new owner, using a 5 mile section of the railroad. But once again the EBT breathed its last – at the end of the 2011 season. And now, the railroad sits once again, rusting in the rain, still stuck in its time warp. Will there be a “third time’s the charm?” Or will it be scrapped? Only time will tell.
In Mt. Union, much of the track was dual gauge – for regular and narrow gauge equipment. Hence the following picture of tracks still embedded in US Route 522: I understand that there is still a string of EBT hoppers hiding in the woods (a skirt and nylons weren’t quite the appropriate attire for tromping around n the brush and trees), but at least some of the dual gauge track is currently being used for standard gauge freight car storage.
And then I drove on to Orbisonia, the home base for the little railroad, taking pictures of remaining track and bridges, as a record of how they look today. Some infrastructure looked better than I thought it would, others much, much worse. Time has not been kind to the railroad.
The Rockhill Trolley Museum (across the parking lot) was having its annual pumpkin patch specials. Thus the EBT parking lots were full. Many attendees were doing just as I was: walking around the EBT property to check it out. And it was legal to do, as EBT owners had people on the scene, to be sure everyone was “just looking or taking pictures.”
In the above picture, I’m standing in front of the Orbisonia roundhouse and turntable. Inside are several narrow gauge steam engines, which are no longer in operation. None of the buildings were open for inspection, but the weeds were cut, thus making it easy to walk around the facility to take pictures. One of the people in charge (sixtysomething male) told me what the buildings were.
And the man who offered to help by taking the above picture was very helpful.
Subsequently I walked across the parking lot to the Trolley Museum. My ticket was good for all day (which didn’t matter, as my time there was limited). But I was supposed to be able tom get a tour of the two carbarns. I inquired about such a tour to the group of conductors sitting there, and they said they could do that…but since the day was kid-oriented it was only on an as-needed basis.
One of the conductors commented that women alone don’t often ask to take the tour. “You must be a trolley fan.” “My mother and I used to ride the PCC cars on the 42/38 line in Pittsburgh.” So, the fiftysomething Conductor said: “Come this way, Ma’am.” When we reached the rope across the garage doorway, he said: “Here, I’ll hold the rope down to make it easier for you to step across.” And as I did, he took my left hand – “Let me steady you, Ma’am.” Nice!
Once over the rope barricade, my personalized tour continued. As I climbed into a couple of trolleys without step boxes, he took my hand again both times to steady me as I stepped on and off the car. (Men sure can be handy to have around!) And as for today, with all due respect to Shania Twain, “Man, I feel like a woman!” I commented that if I’d realized I’d be climbing on rail equipment today, I wouldn’t have worn a skirt. We both got a chuckle out of that…he reassured me that “You aren’t the first woman to do this in a skirt, and you won’t be the last one, dear.”
Then when we finished, he offered to take my picture next to one of the trolleys…above.
I got in line with the group getting on the next trolley ride. It was fun, and most of the ladies exchanged smiles with me. We all commented about the fiddler playing at the trolley stop to entertain the kids, and they way the kids received it. Once on board, a young mom’s 2 month old baby was very animated, and was smiling and cooing at both grandparents and me. I guess the practice with my granddaughter has paid off…
This trolley had the wicker upholstery that, back in the day, was the scourge of nylons-wearing women. You can see in the picture below how close the wicker was to my knees (and no room to cross my legs, but fortunately my skirt protected the back of my legs. Years ago,many girls had their stockings ruined by snagging on the wicker. I was very lucky – mine survived intact! (But I sure was careful to not move around in my seat!)
Don’t snag those pantyhose!
Next stop was to photograph more relics of the EBT’s past. Including site of the station and town hotel in Saltillo, the freight house on Railroad Street in Three Springs (below)…
and one of Mandy in front of the former EBT station in Robertsdale:
As an added bonus, by walking through some rather high uncut grass (fun in a skirt and pantyhose), I located an unconventional configuration for the wye (which crosses a stream) behind the Post Office in Robertsdale:
And in addition, some buried “specialwork” in the parking lot beside the post office:
Then a short detour to Saltillo (pronounced Saul-ti-yo) so named after the Mexican War “Battle of Saltillo” in 1840. It was a major tanning center in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The picture below of the LaPalace Hotel was Saltillo’s hotel “back in the day.” Don’t you just love the porch? Perfect for lazy evening train watching on adjacent tracks – at least until the railroad died in 1956.
Most likely it’s a private residence nowadays…
There was reportedly a coal mining museum in Robertsdale’s old theatre building, which was supposed to be open. I drove by the theatre, and two heavyset fortysomething men were out front, probably enjoying a cigarette. They watched me as I inched slowly by in the car (perhaps their day’s entertainment?), then they went inside. I parked and hesitatingly approached the front door. Finding no mention of a museum on the fliers on the doors, and with the door unlocked, I decided to go on in…not knowing quite what to expect.
Both men were in the main part of the theatre, past the second set of doors. They stared at me as I came through the doors. So I smiled, said hi, and inquired about the museum. Turns out the museum had moved, and the old-time theatre is now a church. OooooKay…. The silent one appeared to be eyeing me, from my feet to my hair, and back down. The one who was talking, couldn’t keep his eyes off my legs. (I’ll take that as the supreme compliment – thanks to him!)
Through the ages, guys always have checked out gals, but this little lesson emphatically taught me precisely how uncomfortable it can make some girls feel. The bright side is – the pair were basically decent men. I could have encountered serious issues that day. I won’t kid you…I really was happy to say “so long”, and make my exit.
However, as info – it’s not the first time that I’ve “barged into” an old theatre – the notable difference is that I was presenting as androgynous that day – and more importantly, my wife was with me. And yes, before you ask, the guy who came to “greet” us in the inside hallway identified us two women. (Most importantly, we got a tour of the theatre.) But there was safety in numbers. (Moral of story for historic theatre owners – keep those doors locked if you don’t want sightseers!)
Finally, I headed for the barn… it had been one long, interesting, rewarding – and fun – day. When I checked into the motel, their thirtysomething male clerk addressed me as female. A perfect way to end a wonderful day!
As you read the following, remember this trip occurred several years ago…
Yes, I’ve been traveling again… Opportunities tend to arise from time to time, sometimes on the spur of the moment. And while my wife was visiting her sister in Chicago seemed to be one of those good moments.
This time the trip amounted to three sightseeing days as a gal, and one day impersonating a guy. I had things to do in Pennsylvania, and I never let these trips happen without taking my girl stuff along. I planned for several selfies. Those are the outfits which made it into my suitcase. You may have already seen my skirts and dress…(I would have loved to buy new things, but with no storage space???) My objective was to try out some everyday tops with my existing outfits. Everyday tops eliminate some of the laundry hassles I’d otherwise encounter.
The first day was for traveling, and some light sightseeing. Enroute at Severna Park, a suburb of Baltimore, I came across a former substation/power plant for the long-defunct Baltimore & Annapolis Railroad (a walking trail on the old right-of- way runs right past it.) In addition to its being an antique in its own right, the building is now an antique shop.
A lot of driving later, I found myself heading west on US Route 30, the Lincoln Highway. And near the small town of Everett, PA, I came across one of many so-called “roadside oddities” – or as they call it: one of the “Roadside Giants of the Lincoln Highway.” It’s the “world’s largest quarter.” Unfortunately it was raining, thus: no selfie.
Having been in Everett a long time ago, I knew there was an old Huntington and BroadTop railroad station (complete with a stuffed and mounted H&BT caboose and locomotive) located there. Never known to bypass such a sight (especially as a girl), I dropped in to re-make my acquaintance. Unfortunately it was drizzling, which made staying under cover a requirement, and good pictures hard to get, but at least I was able to get one.
And it was cold…my turtleneck and jumper dress felt very cozy – and warm!
From there it was off to Altoona, site of the world-famous Pennsylvania Railroad’s Horseshoe Curve. Notice the silver signal gantry behind me, up at track level. The railroad is now owned and operated by Norfolk Southern (as part of the breakup of the Conrail system), and before I left to head for my motel, a train went by. Of course the curve is on a significant grade, so you can hear westbound trains crawling upgrade a long time before they actually appear. Naturally, I stayed around for the show…fortunately, no more drizzle.
Then, before calling it a day, I dropped in at the so-called “America’s oldest gas station”: Reighard’s in Altoona! Again, the recurring drizzle dampened enthusiasm for doing a selfie. Darn it anyway.
I checked into the motel as a female. Had no issues, but the fortysomething female clerk stayed “neutral” – most likely due to my given name nowadays being a girl’s name. No gender-specific terms were used. Once settled in, I managed to do a selfie in the room’s full-length mirror.
To August of 2015, when I was waiting to pick up my wife, as she arrived back in Baltimore from the visit to her sister’s house in mid-America, I stopped in at a nearby big-box store (no, NOT Target) for a few things. And when I first arrived, a restroom visit was in order.
I was dressed in typical androgynous mode – white shorts, bright blue tee top, and feminine white sandals – all from the women’s department. Picture of sandals below. I was carrying my purse, and of course I had all my normal feminine cues, including my long hair and nails, with light pink toe nails. The unisex toilet option was not available as the door was locked – presumably occupied. So I used the men’s room, which was empty upon my arrival. So far, so good.
As I washed my hands, a man entered, apparently noticed me standing at the sink (with my purse toward the door, plainly visible) and reversed course long enough to re-check that he had indeed entered the men’s room. As he re-entered, he announced “Ma’am, you do know you’re in the men’s room?” And he headed for the urinals.
Feeling just a bit feisty, I replied back, in my normal voice “Yes, but thank you so much for pointing that out.” And as I had finished drying my hands, I exited, leaving him standing at the urinal, probably not “aiming well” because he was staring intently at me, and obviously not quite sure what had just happened. Wonder if he drenched himself? We’ll never know…
After finishing my shopping, before checking out and heading out to the next stop, I stopped at the snack bar for lunch, and decided to wash my hands before eating, since with burgers, a knife and fork generally aren’t provided. Once again, I tried the unisex toilet door – still locked, occupied – or maybe at this point, out of order. So I ducked into the men’s room again and went straight to the sink. Deja vu – in walked a man, fortunately not the same one as a half hour earlier. He said almost the same thing as the man did earlier, and it resulted in almost the same response from me as I walked out, also leaving him staring at me as I disappeared around the corner…
The lunch counter cashier, “free-sample clerk”, check-out clerk, and the “checker” at the door (all under-40 females) universally used “Ma’am” in our interactions.
This is a diametrically opposite response from the one I noticed on my recent weekend journey into the hinterlands of rural northern Maryland and the rural southeastern tier of Pennsylvania. There, only a few folks vocally acknowledged my femininity – and I clearly was wearing a feminine outfit – skirt and blouse, sandals, with full makeup and jewelry, including earrings.
In the more urban areas, (wearing a much more androgynous outfit with no makeup, and only a necklace for jewelry), being addressed as female is more frequent…and very affirming. The only thing I can attribute this to is the more liberal mind-set held by residents of the more-urban areas. Of course, there may be other causes. But possessing a fully-feminine appearance does not seem to be one of the deciding factors…
I picked up my wife mid-afternoon at the commuter rail station, and we headed home, luckily skirting a couple of traffic slow-downs (we know back roads) enroute to the bridge (which fortunately was un-congested.) And with no more stops, there were no more chances for “miss-identifications.”
Grab the beverage of your choice and settle down for some reading…bearing in mind that this blog covers an event from May of 2013 – almost 7 years ago. Time flies when you’re having fun…
At long last, it was time for Mandy to visit again…and also to exercise the antique car. Off I went, in androgynous mode, to an out-of-town solo car show weekend, with Mandy’s clothes in the trunk. Unfortunately I was off to a late start, which affected how much sightseeing I would get to do that day.
Enroute was a quick stop for lunch at a fast food restaurant (have stopped there before), with a one-occupant restroom, where Mandy exited in a skirt and blouse, as in the picture, with refreshed makeup. Then it was on into Winchester, VA for some sightseeing. First stop on my agenda was the Moore house, a Gothic Hudson River Revival Style dwelling originally built in 1854, which Confederate General Thomas (Stonewall) Jackson was invited to call headquarters from November of 1861 to March of1862, by Mr. Moore, the then-current owner. After that, General Jackson left Winchester to begin his well-known Valley Campaign.
Mandy at Stonewall Jackson’s headquarters in Winchester
The name Moore may ring a bell for those of you who are old enough to remember Mary Tyler Moore – as in the Mary Tyler Moore Show on the telly, years ago. The docent mentioned that Mr. Moore was one of her ancestors. And when restoration of the Moore house was under way, Ms. Moore paid for the remanufacture of the wall paper found in the study.
The day of my visit, the Confederate flag was at half staff… it turns out they were celebrating the recent 150th anniversary of Jackson’s death. I was the only visitor at that moment, so I was treated to a fabulous “personal” guided tour, and found it fascinating to learn all about the man and his history.
Afterward, I went directly to the house where Patsy Cline – born Virginia (Ginny) Patterson Hensley in 1932 – lived from age 16 to about 21, hoping to get there before it closed.
Mandy visiting the childhood home of Patsy Cline, who lived there from age 16 (about 1948) to 21 (about 1953.)
Unfortunately, with the late start, my timing was off – the last tour was finishing up as I arrived. Thus, I had to settle for taking some pictures. But I vowed to return again…”maybe even tomorrow!”
Next, I detoured to the pedestrian mall in “Old Town”, and parked the car, and walked around, even as rain threatened. A fascinating place to visit, with outside cafes, shops, etc. I walked thru “Old Town” for a while, even as rain threatened, and found some interesting properties. Above is the f\ormer G & M Music Shop, where Patsy made some recordings. Property is now part of the Grace Lutheran Church.
Handley Regional Library, old town Winchester…
A fascinating place to visit, with outside cafes, shops, etc. Next visit, I’d like to spend more time here, and perhaps if I’m feeling adventurous, try out one of the sidewalk cafe restaurants for dinner! Enroute back to the car, I walked past some colonial buildings (now law offices, et cetera), and couldn’t miss the fabulous Handley Regional Library Building, built in spectacular Beaux Arts style. The story behind it: Judge John Handley of Scranton, Pennsylvania made his fortune in coal investments, and developed a relationship with Winchester and its Scotch-Irish heritage. In 1895 he donated a sum of money for construction of a library “for the free use of the people of the city of Winchester.” Designed by J. Stewart Barney and Henry Otis Chapman of New York, work began in 1908 and was completed in 1913. The library was a model for its time. And it is still truly spectacular, with its “green” copper dome and roof.
Rain began to fall as I was about a half block from my car, so I didn’t get too drenched. But that was my clue to head for the motel to check in. And the process was absolutely a non-issue in my skirt and blouse… they asked for my ID, so they ‘knew the score” and just chose to ignore pronouns completely. Once settled in, it was time to shave and reapply my makeup for dinner…
By the time I was done and back on the road, clouds which had been building since I arrived at the motel finally opened up – the rain came down fast and heavy. Crowds everywhere were taking all the close-to-the-door parking places at nicer restaurants (it turned out to be graduation weekend at one of the local colleges), and it was dark enough from the clouds that you could see folks inside waiting. I finally elected to settle for a fast-food-drive-through-burger. It was still raining (but a bit less intensely) when I got back to the room with my delicious (?) dinner. What a disappointment! However, I was too hungry to wait till later to eat, and – what if the rain was still falling at that point in time?
Former B & O Passenger Station, Kent St., Winchester VA…
Saturday found me in capri pants, a sleeveless top and flats, which I wore to the car show. I took a few minutes before the show, to locate the former Baltimore and Ohio railroad station in town. (These trips usually involve some sort of railroad theme, somewhere along the line!) While the Winchester station still exists, there are no passenger trains in town, so it’s used by the railroad as office and storage space.
There was off-and-on drizzle at the show all morning, then the sun came out after lunch. However, as the temperature rose, cumulus clouds started building in the humid air, and looking rather ominous. Show sponsors ended the festivities a bit ahead of schedule, due to the likelihood of impending rain. Since I had the chance, I headed back to the room to shave and reapply makeup. Enroute, the heavens opened up again, though only for about 5 minutes, ending before I reached the motel driveway.
Gaunt Drug Store, where Patsy Cline worked as a teenager, making soda treats for her customers.
At the motel, Mandy re-appeared, as I changed back into a skirt and blouse for another try at getting into the Patsy Cline house. This time, my attempt was successful, but just barely. The final tour of the day had started a few minutes before my arrival. The docent took pity on the lady in the old blue car, who arrived late! He mentioned that he recognized me from my photographic adventures yesterday (how could he have missed me, with the tripod set up out front?) That apparently was his motivation in letting me join. So, I got my tour, along with about 8 other folks (mostly women) of middle age. I was the oldest one there…and was able to get the senior discount…a big advantage to being retired!
He really enjoyed his job, telling us about the house, which started out as a 2 room log cabin, and was added on to over the years. The visitors all enjoyed the part about his being alone in the house, and hearing noises, including footsteps and interior room doors actually slamming shut on their own – could it be paranormal activity?
It was interesting to see where and how the family lived at that point in Patsy’s life, and to hear some of the stories he was able to relate. And since I got there late, he stayed a few minutes after the tour to cover the points I missed before I arrived. If you ever get to town, you might want to check it out…even if you’re not a Patsy Cline fan, it’s well worth the visit, just for the period furnishings and nostalgia about life in that era.
Afterward, he helped me with directions to locate Gaunt’s Drug Store, where Patsy worked as a teenager, making soda treats for her customers at the fountain. While the drug store was closed for the day when I arrived, the docent at the Patsy Cline mentioned that the soda fountain was still there, unused, because it had become part of a closed-off storeroom due to a remodeling project.
Then it was off to dinner, which was actually at a real restaurant this time. When I present as a woman, I always enjoy being treated as one (even though I know I often don’t pass well), and the server did a great job. Which resulted in a big tip for her…hope that’s an incentive to give the next girl she serves, good service, too!
Girls in skirts sometimes have to clean cars, too!
Then I went back to my room, to return to androgynous mode so I could listen in on the awards presentation at a nearby hotel, and discover if my car earned a trophy…
Before I left, and while I was dusting off the car, I noticed nearby male voices out in the parking lot. Turned out it was a group of clean-cut-looking motorcyclists, all who knew each other and were guests at the motel, sitting out on the sidewalk relaxing after their day on the road. A few minutes later, when I emerged from my room, to get into the car, they addressed me as “Ma’am,” apologized for the noise, and asked me questions about the car, which I answered, but quickly, as I had to get going. I guess they were more interested in the car, than in me…that’s a good thing.
At the end of the rainbow…in this case, was a trophy!
And, finally with no rain falling, I turned the corner in the motel parking lot. And there it was, a beautiful rainbow…one of the brightest I’ve seen in years. By the time I stopped the car, grabbed the camera and started taking pix, it had begun to fade, but it truly was beautiful. The pictures I took really don’t do it justice…
Incidentally, yes, the car received a trophy that night, which now joins the others on display…
Radio Station WINC in Winchester, in whose studios Patsy Cline made her first radio appearance, and where she performed many times. Mandy’s car is in front…
On the road for home the next morning, I made a short stop at radio station WINC, the station on which Patsy made her first radio appearance, as well as many subsequent performances. Somehow, I think it’s changed its appearance a lot since then, but at least the station is still around…
Now for a little observation – something about myself that I’ve noticed from this trip (and I suspect it may be a big plus for Mandy, going forward.)
I’ve finally progressed to where I can wander out amongst the public, with my legs on display in a skirt, nylons and flats, and actually be concentrating on whatever it is that I’m doing – instead of on what I’m wearing and staring into store windows at my own reflection, That’s a refreshingly new attribute, and one that has sorely needed, to look a bit more like “just a girl out-and-about.”
Women often seem friendlier (with smiles and occasionally light chat) when I’m in a skirt, blouse and flats, than even when I’m in stirrup pants and a top. Maybe I’m “passing” more often than I think I am (which I realize is extremely doubtful). Or, because I’m in a skirt, the ladies don’t feel threatened, and just accept me as “one of them,” while men mostly ignore me. I tend to think it’s more likely the latter…
You may recognize the town name – it’s on every Wal-Mart tractor-trailer you see. And in Bentonville, there is the original 5-and-10 that Sam Walton opened.
However, rather than selling products, it has been turned into a museum about the man and his chain of retail outlets. And a good museum it is…well worth the time it took to visit…many interesting facts are presented. Did you know Sam Walton was a pilot? And that his first plane was an Ercoupe single engine aircraft that he used to personally scout out locations for new stores? A scale model of his plane is in there. And that he drove a 4wd red and white Ford pickup truck with 4-speed manual? It’s in there, too. They moved his office lock stock and barrel from the warehouse to the museum, as a memento. And there’s a re-creation of an old fashioned soda fountain as you exit (great prices…it’s hard to find Moon Pies for only 50 cents…but they have them!)
Whether you’re a Wal-Mart fan or not, this gives you a wonderful insight into how the chain came about.
If you look closely above, you can see a red and white Ford pickup of the same vintage as the one in the museum. It’s not Sam’s (his is inside the building), but is marked for the museum. Now look below…they had a 10 cent kiddie ride made to resemble Sam’s truck!
This station was built in 1925 to replace one which was not holding up well. After WW II, passenger business declined as airlines and cars sucked up all their patrons, and the railroad quit serving Bentonville. The station fell into disrepair, until a commercial firm decided to restore it, resulting in the pretty building below.
And lastly, I dropped in for a self-guided tour of the gorgeous Peel Mansion Museum & Heritage Gardens. These were built in 1875 by Colonel Samuel West Peel. Much care was taken in erecting this magnificent house, a wonderful example of the Italianate Villa Style.
The interior of the house was furnished with authentic antiquities and artifacts of the era, generously loaned by the Historic Arkansas Museum and the Old State House.
The interior of the house was furnished with authentic antiquities and artifacts of the era, generously loaned by the Historic Arkansas Museum and the Old State House.
In its day, it was a working farmstead, surrounded by 180 acres of apple orchards.
Colonel Peel, pioneer businessman, legal representative (appointed by the President) to the five civilized tribes in Indian Territory and Confederate soldier, was the first native-born Arkansan elected to the United States Congress. He and his wife, Mary Emaline Berry Peel, raised nine children here.
It was a good day for a girl wandering around Bentonville, AR in stirrup pants (over tights), turtleneck, jewelry and booties…too bitter cold for anything less than a winter coat on top, which sort of disguised the femininity. At least I didn’t hear the dreaded “S” word…though the lack of any feminine forms of address was definitely noticeable.
At the first place I visited (an infrequently-visited doctor’s office), the clerk actually looked up my records and discovered that the girl by the name of (insert my given name here) actually wasn’t a girl. And after the nurse addressed me as a guy, I was “Sir.” That’s OK, as it was a professional setting, and I wasn’t flaunting femininity – beyond tan stirrup pants, a turtleneck blouse, flats and the usual “purse, hair and nails.” actually began to wonder if perhaps I was acting or looking a bit less feminine.
That question was answered shortly after I left the office. My wife had her car in for service a couple days ago, and the dealership took her key fob out of its “faraday cage” so it could be attached to the work order. (First time for that drill…and it was a mess.) So I stopped at the hardware store to see what they could suggest. They had a solution – a quick release type of attachment. But the entire time the clerk (20something guy) was working with me, I was honored as a woman. Including, but not limited to, “Let me get that, Ma’am, don’t want you to mess up your nails!”
And the fun continued when I went to the checkout line. After some obligatory small talk, the 40something male clerk had me enter my phone number, which brought up my given and last names. From then on, I was “Miss Amanda.” It really was affirming.
Then the last stop: the pharmacy. Both the welcoming clerk and the checkout clerk properly addressed me as “Ma’am.” You’ll never hear me complain! But “so much for my initial thought that I might be acting or dressing a bit less feminine!” It’s not the case…
Unfortunately, those were the end of today’s errands…did you ever find yourself wishing that you could keep it up indefinitely? Happens frequently for me…
Mandy's Miscellany 
