May 9, 2004
It took nearly a year, but I managed to return to the Adams crypt for my snapshots. We were all up in Boston for a Mother’s Day celebration, and I figured that it was the perfect time to get this whole Adams ordeal over with. After the meal, my dad, my sister, and I quickly scooted over to the United First Parish Church. Unlike the first time, we actually took the tour of the church itself, during which my sister and I were able to sit in the Adams family's pew. After ten minutes or so we exited the main room of the church and I once again made my way down to the dank, small chamber that held the remains of America’s former First Family. My dad and my sister were not far behind.
Our tour guide gleefully inserted the key in the wrought iron lock and turned it. As the door swung open, I quickly entered the tomb and walked over to the first President Adams’ grave. I was overjoyed! However, I held my composure and posed with each of the tomb’s gray sarcophagi. When our visit was over, we exited the church and entered our rain-laden caravan parked out front. Upon entering, I sat down and began plotting my next presidential trip.
It would occur sooner than I thought.