Colonial Life

We'd planned on only going for a half day. I was certain there'd be enough to keep us occupied for a few hours and then we could move on.

I was wrong.

In the end, spent nearly two days at Minuteman National Park and still the kids begged to go back.

"Put on your history legs, kids! We're retracing the ride of Paul Revere. In reverse!"

"Who's Paul Revere?"

"You'll see!"

Cam dropped us off on her lunch break, our bags filled with snacks and our feet shod with walking shoes. A little research had shown Battle Road as being a long trek with various visitor's centers, houses, and activities along its path. A little more research would have shown the activities as being flat out amazing.

Our first stop was the Whittemore House across from the visitors' center. We stepped across the threshold and were immediately transported to Colonial Life. In one room, a rack held costumes for the kids to don. In another room, a barrel held wooden muskets for our little band to defend the homestead. The kitchen was next to a fireplace so tall Elizabeth could stand inside. Various boxes held food supplies from neighboring farms, our own home, and from hunting and fishing trips. Elizabeth went to work gathering food items and placing them in a large cauldron to make dinner while Joseph and Felix prepared to defend themselves against the Red Coats.

We spent nearly two hours in that house, me fanning myself with recipe cards for Chowder while the kids ran like wild things around the house, sweeping, weaving, churning butter, hunting, and eating. We were alone except for another boy and girl from California. Their mother and I compared trip notes while their grandfather dozed in the corner on the wooden bench. It was, in a word, marvelous.

Finally, the park ranger told us it was time to clean up so she could close up shop. The kids groaned in disappointment but took off their costumes and skipped beside me on our way to watch the multimedia presentation of Paul Revere's ride in the Visitors' Center. Their words tumbled like a stream over rocks as they relived their hours as Colonists.

We walked into the cool darkness of the theater and then watched with wide eyes as a Minuteman relayed all that had happened that fateful April 19. We followed Paul Revere and William Dawes from Boston on the map lit by blue and red dots. We held our breaths as they came across Dr. Prescott who announced that he too was a Revolutionary. We watched the red dots get closer as the British troops followed by sea and then across the land. Joseph's mouth dropped open as Paul Revere was caught, Bill Dawes raced back away from the British, and Dr. Prescott evaded capture and continued to Concord to warn of the approaching soldiers.

The American Revolution. If things had gone differently, those men would have been executed as traitors to the Crown.

But instead of uneducated farmers, the British came across an organized militia in a state that was populated with some of the most educated people in the world thanks, in large part, to the Puritans who felt every man, woman, and child should know how to read regardless of social status.

We watched as the Minuteman relayed the battle at the North Bridge. We heard the musket fire and watched as the blue and red dots began a retreat back to Boston.

After the film, we walked outside and began the hike to where we'd meet Cam in little less than an hour. We paused at the site where Paul Revere was captured, realizing how very close he'd been to his goal.

"Is this where the bad guys got him?" Joseph asked with excitement.

"There weren't really bad guys, baby." I struggled for the words to explain fighting for an idea, an idea so ingrained into his life, into our lives. "They were fighting to gain freedom from a country most of them had never seen. They were fighting for the right to govern themselves."

"But weren't the Regulars bad guys?"

"No. They were soldiers, far from home. They were men who fought under the command of other men, far from home."

Joseph was silent for a moment while we continued walking. Up ahead I could see colorful flags. We walked to the monument that read, "Near here, eight British soldiers are buried." The stone was festooned with flags and flowers. "See?" I gestured. "They weren't bad guys, they were just fighting for their King while the Militia fought for their freedom."

He nodded and we continued. We walked past ruins of homes and gorgeous structures still standing. We traipsed under trees and between stone fences slicing long fields into a neat patchwork of land. We paused for a moment, listening to the Star Spangled Banner echo across the hills from the nearby military base. The words to the song played in my head, so poignant and meaningful standing in that spot where men bled.

We made it to Hartwell Tavern before we met up with Cam, the decision made to come back the next day and continue our exploration.