|The old stagecoach road In Appomattox Court House. Lee tried to use this road as an escape route.|
|The McLean House|
|The Court House|
|The Parlor of the McLean House|
I encountered this type of transcendent experience only once before and under similar circumstances: As a young man, I was driving across the Country for the first time. On route, I noticed signs for the Little Big Horn Battlefield National Park. It was a good distance out of my way but I didn’t care. I had read so much and seen so many Hollywood productions about the battle that I felt compelled to go there. So, I turned off the main highway and headed my car in that direction.
Unfortunately, (or, fortunately depending on your POV) I arrived too late and the Park was closed. But, I found that it didn’t matter. In fact, in some ways, it was to my advantage. NO ONE was there. It was so extraordinarily peaceful. There was no sound but the wind whistling through the tall grass and the singing of the multitude of birds who were my only companions. I could see through the fence to get a good idea of how the battle played out and could even see the monument erected where Custer fell. It was earie and incredibly powerful – a place that had only existed in my imagination was indeed real. Hundreds of men met their end here and, once again, history was made. I took a deep breath and sucked it all in. I could not miss the palpable presence of legendary figures like Custer and Crazy Horse who fought there. Their fierce spirits are still present in the wind – if you listened.