Williamsburg, VA - A Touch of History

(November 2006) Just outside of Jamestown

I think that I might have already mentioned that I love history. It intrigues me. As author of Roots suggests, everyone has a desire to know where they came from. We are not individual islands, but affected by everyone and everything around us and that means to me that finding out as much as I can about other people's stories tells me more about myself. Needless to say that when my ward announced a their annual trip to Williamsburg I jumped on the chance to go. We left about 4pm on Friday. Freda, Nancy, Brian and I all piled into Brian's car, braving the traffic we headed across 495 to 95 South. although several things happened along the way two of the most memorable were 1) passing the car with MR RIGHT as the license plate and then finding two women in it and 2) the traffic slow down caused by an arm chair on the side of the road.

Brian, Nancy, Chris, and Annie (above)
Yorktown battlements (side)

Funny enough we never made it to Colonial Williamsburg, instead we went to Jamestown and Yorktown. This is the 400 year anniversary of Jamestown and merited a visit for that reason alone. When you add the fact that we are all still pretending to be poor college students the $25 to go to colonial Williamsburg vs. the $8 to go to both Jamestown and Yorktown the choice is obvious. I enjoyed Jamestown, especially the glassblowing, but loved Yorktown. It's amazing how history can come to life by the excitement of one very enthusiastic Park Ranger. I don't remember the Ranger's name, but I remember his passion as he described to us the Revolutionaries critical win at Yorktown. He painted a picture for me and I fell in love with the story.

My first 'outside of Institute' interaction with Chris Terrill happen on this trip. He and Freda managed to get us a tad lost. It wasn't completely their fault. The map and the signs gave conflicting information. And to be fair, I told Brian to take a wrong turn while we were trying to find our way back to a main road to come back home. However our ending up on 395 and in the middle of DC can be blamed, not on our faithful driver, Brian, but on the horrible Virginia Road signs.