March 11, 2009
Traveling through time
If you've ever spent time in old cities, the kinds of places where historic battles were fought, where great men gathered and plotted a new course for independence from the Old World, you'll know what I mean when I say that there are moments when you can almost tear through the very membrane of time itself, that thin-yet-seemingly impenetrable barrier that separates then from now, what is from what will be. In those quite moments, you can almost perceive the events that occurred -- are occurring -- on a different time line.
I've sat in a pew in Philadelphia's Christ Church on a hot summer day, watching the leaves on the trees move in the sultry breeze outside through wavy panes of glass, set in their frames more than 250 years ago. Those same panes once vibrated to the sounds of the Founding Father's voices, raised in prayer, and as I sat motionless in Washington's pew, I closed my eyes in the cool shadows of the church and thought, just for a moment, that I heard a faint echo accross the centuries.
I've never seen a better example of the way past and present coexist than this site, where a talented Russian photographer precisely positions his camera to produce seamless images combining Leningrad during the Nazi seige, and it's prosperous, peaceful 21st Century version.
Fascinating.
Posted by Mike Lief at March 11, 2009 01:05 AM
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I have heard the echo at Antietam, every time I have gone; less so, at Gettysburg. In 1972 it was still possible without even squinting to imagine you were standing on Kill Devil Hill with the Wright Brothers, but not in 1980. I might as well have been in my own back yard when I have visited the small town in Iowa where my father was born, and I have heard the echoes at many railroading sites. There are echoes from distant places I have not visited yet, like the field of Agincourt, or Iwo Jima. I have thought it odd that although my longest abiding interest has been naval history, I have derived no great satisfaction from visiting naval battle sites. I think this is probably because of the featureless and impermanent landscape of the sea. I have not heard the echo on any surviving naval vessel I have visited (it kills me that the Goeben/Yavuz was not saved), and although the poorly-documented wreck of the USS Houston(CA-30)is interesting I do not expect ever to get closer to it than I am today. I heard the echo at The Music Box steps in Silver Lake and in the old Supreme Court chamber in the Capitol. I thought I heard something at Philippe's; maybe it was my stomach growling.
Years ago you bemoaned the loss of interest in historical knowledge and I responded with a list of incidents that resonated for me. They still do, even though the actual sites of several of them are lost. One does not need to be able to go there to hear the echo, but one does need to sense the significance of history.
Posted by: The Little Coach at March 11, 2009 11:08 AM