If you think that our graveyard escapades were done for the year, you
may want to think twice. Two or three days after our return from New York, my
father and I were headed on a plane toward Cincinnati, Ohio. The plan was
simple: Within a period of three days, we had to travel through five states to
visit five presidential burial sites. The first one on our list was William Harrison,
who is buried in a village thirty miles from Cincinnati. After viewing several photos
on the internet, my father and I deciphered that the gate to Harrison's tomb
was usually locked. Several weeks in advance, he contacted the tomb's
caretakers and made an appointment so they could unlock the gate. Upon our
arrival, we drove to the tomb and were greeted by the caretakers, Mr. and Mrs.
Meyers. As the two unlocked the tomb, they expressed how impressed they
were that someone at my age was interested in American politics. Once inside,
they unlocked another gate that led us to the tomb. Inside, President and Mrs.
Harrison were entombed in what appeared to be a 19th century mausoleum.
While we took our photographs, Mrs. Meyers told us how Harrison's son, John
Scott Harrison, had his body stolen and taken to a medical school, but was
later found and taken to the tomb. After thoroughly thanking the couple for
unlocking the gate, we got in our rental car and drove South to Kentucky.
Several hours later, we arrived in the city of Louisville, where President
Taylor's remains are located. Taylor's grave, located in a military cemetery
that bears his name, was easy to find amongst the small tombstones. Once we
exited our vehicle and walked up the path to his mausoleum, we were greeted
with the unfortunate fact that its doors were locked. With no way to get inside,
I was forced to settle with pictures of the tomb's exterior. Soon after, we left
the cemetery in an attempt to find another one, Cave Hill Cemetery. Cave Hill
holds the remains of famed business magnate Colonel Sanders, founder of
KFC. We were unable to locate the colonel's grave, even after stopping in one
of his restaurants to ask for directions. Unfazed, we jumped into the car and
travelled to Indianapolis. By the time we reached Indianapolis' Crown Hill
Cemetery it was nighttime and the gate was closed. While driving around town
trying to find a hotel, we discovered the Indiana State Fair and decided to join
the fun. I was personally enthralled by the fun house, especially after its
intoxicated operator began to let everyone in for free. Once we had our fill of
fun for the night, we continued our search for a hotel.
When we woke up the following morning, we found that it was drizzling
outside. Luckily, we both were prepared and brought raincoats with us. After we
geared ourselves up, we set out for the cemetery. A sign outside announced
a wreath-laying ceremony that was taking place the following day. Surprised, I
opened a president book and discovered that we were visiting Benjamin
Harrison's grave on his 171st birthday. Since Crown Hill is one of the USA's
largest cemeteries, we knew we had no chance of finding the president's grave
on our own. We stopped at the office and grabbed a pamphlet, which revealed
Harrison's location. Arriving at the president's grave, we took a few photos and
hopped back in the car. Upon looking at the pamphlet further, we found out
that three vice presidents are also interred at Crown Hill. Figuring that we
might as well while we were there, we drove around and took photographs at
the burial sites of Thomas Hendricks, Charles Fairbanks, and Thomas
Marshall. Before we left however, my father wanted to get his picture taken at
the grave of notorious bank robber John Dillinger. The name John Dillinger
meant little to me, so I took my father's picture without asking him to
reciprocate. What a mistake...
Following our visit to Indianapolis, we traveled to Springfield, Illinois, the
"Land of Lincoln". The "Great Emancipator" is interred in the city's Oak Ridge
Cemetery, which was founded in 1855. While driving down a long road inside
the cemetery, we were struck by Lincoln's huge monument, which includes a
117 foot tall obelisk. Excited, I exited the rental car and walked the remaining
distance to the tomb. Once my father gathered the cameras and caught up with
me, we walked up the front entranceway to the president's final resting place.
The first thing that hit us was a large sculpture of Lincoln's head positioned near
the doorway. Typically, visitors to the tomb rub the figure's nose before
entering, which has discolored that part of the sculpture over time. I was not
tall enough to reach the sculpture, so my father lifted me up to touch it, despite
the fact that his broken arm was not completely healed. Entering the structure,
we walked passed several miniature statues of Lincoln in crowded hallways
before reaching the burial room. Inside are the remains of the entire Lincoln
family minus the eldest son. Though most of the tomb was elaborate, the
president's marble marker simply stated his name and his lifespan. Awestruck,
we took our pictures, exited the tomb, and began to wander the grounds of
the cemetery.
The following day was very eventful. It was the last full day of the trip,
and we still had another burial site to get to. In addition, there were several
Springfield sites we desired to see, such as the Old State House and Lincoln's
home, both of which we accomplished. We walked over to see Lincoln's Library
and museum, but it was not yet complete at the time of our visit. With time
running out, we got in the car and headed for Iowa. It was mid-afternoon when
we reached the Herbert Hoover Presidential Library and Museum. We were in
the museum for approximately an hour when we entered the gift shop.
Wandering around, we came upon two interesting items: A photo album with the
presidential seal and a book titled Who's Buried in Grant's Tomb? by C-Span
founder Brian Lamb. We purchased the album and two copies of the book and
drove the car over to a nearby incline where President and Mrs. Hoover are
buried. Once we reached the top, we were struck by how peaceful and remote
the setting was. Or at least we were until a truck driver blasted his horn on a
nearby highway. Hoover once proclaimed that he would like to be buried with an
unobstructed view of his birthplace, which we visited next. The small house was
just closing, and we walked through only for a few moments.
Upon returning to our hotel, the two of us decided to wind everything down and
we each used our own method of relaxation. He sat down and read his new book
while I swam in the hotel pool.