Author: Sharron Burnett

On the final day of our grand journey we packed up early and walked down to Brennan’s where we had a breakfast that literally satisfied us until dinner time after we had returned home. I stuck with the traditional brunch that I have eaten there since my honeymoon…a salad, eggs Benedict and bananas Foster. As usual nothing disappointed me. It’s always a sure bet to get a wonderful meal and outstanding service at Brennan’s. 

I remembered our many visits there as I enjoyed my food. I was so young and inexperienced on my honeymoon that I almost felt overwhelmed. I had never been in such a luxurious place before. I did not even recognize the names of the food but I quickly understood what a remarkable place it was. We would later take our daughters and our grandchildren there and they would quickly adapt their palates to world class cuisine. Of course, bananas Foster would always be their favorite dish. Surely the flaming presentation helped to make its appeal. 

My favorite visit to Brennans was after hurricane Katrina when the city was still limping along and hoping to recover the glory of days before the storm. We were there with two of our grandchildren on the first morning when the restaurant had managed to book every table for the entire day. It had been two years since that had happened and the staff was overjoyed. When our waitress asked us where we lived, she became rapturous upon learning that we were from Houston. She spoke of how our city had been so kind to so many people in the terrible aftermath of the destruction of New Orleans. She literally began to cry as she thanked us and the people of our city. I cried as well. 

I always want to linger a bit longer in New Orleans but it was time to go. I had math classes scheduled for the following day and my father-in-law was eager to return to our home once again. We bid adieu to the French Quarter and drove around the city before finally heading west on our final leg.

The drive home down Interstate 10 was messy in spots but no worse than usual. At one point a billboard suggested that we tune our radio to a local Cajun station and the programming we found there was a hoot. The DJ spoke Louisiana French and the music was all sung in the local language. We got a kick out of hearing it and immersing ourselves in local culture one last time. Our last stop for gasoline led to meeting a wonderful woman with a heavy and lilting Cajun accent. She was adorable and instantly became one more memorable moment of the trip. 

After fourteen days away from home I had made many observations about our wonderful country. While we may at times appear to be bitterly and politically divided the truth is that there were incredibly good and welcoming people wherever we went. When we just accept people as they are, not as we want them to be, life is so much more pleasant. I suspect that we are all just passing through this life wanting to enjoy the best versions of existence. In the United States there are so many opportunities to lead comfortable and rewarding lives. 

Our country looks to me to be doing way better than most people are apt to believe. Life appeared to be mostly very good in state after state. If the trucks on the road were any indication our economy is buzzing. The same thinking goes for crowds in restaurants and stores and hotels. There is a vibrance all around and most people seemed to be genuinely happy in spite the struggles that we humans always have to endure. 

There were even migrant workers staying at one of our hotels. They got up early each morning and rushed off to work. At night they left their dusty boots outside their doors. They were quiet and obviously determined to work hard to have good lives. There was so much work to be done everywhere and signs of prosperity and rebuilding were quite encouraging. Virtually every single highway was being repaired or expanded. The infrastructures of the nation were enjoying major upgrades. So too were houses and buildings being erected. What I witnessed was a vibrant effort to move forward after the trials of the pandemic. We are adjusting and working toward a more normal way of living after a rare and tragic event. It takes time to overcome the hard times that affected the entire world, but here in the United States our progress is evident in spite of the great losses we have shared with the rest of the world. 

I know that not everyone is benefitting from the recovery equally. We still have those who are struggling mightily with addictions, mental and physical illnesses and the grinding hardships of poverty. I saw those things as well. I only wish that instead of allowing politicians to enrage us by blaming their opponents for everything that is bad, we would finally understand the importance of working together to make progress in eliminating the ills that seem to always be with us regardless of who is in charge. 

We still have much to do and we have the human and material resources to do remarkable things as long as we are willing to be inventive and patient. It’s up to us to include the ideas and enthusiasm of the young in our quest. We must demonstrate a growth mindset with the understanding that we will have both success and failures. It takes time and effort to accomplish great things. Our focus should be on building a better future, not carping about our differences. This country and our world is truly worth compromising and sacrificing to save. I hope we are up to the task. 

Now and again I have one of those days that seems to be perfect from start to finish. Sometimes it’s just twenty four hours of homebound bliss when I’m feeling on top of the world just enjoying the ordinary. Others times it is an occasion that is so special that it seems to be one of those once in a lifetime moments. My second day in New Orleans on our recent trip was a kind of homage to the city and the joy that it has brought Mike and me again and again since our honeymoon back when I were a young couple filled with hopes and dreams that have mostly come true. 

We had a leisurely start to our day relaxing in our enchanting room at the Hotel Monteleone. Just before ten we ambled down the street to The Court of Two Sisters for the jazz brunch where we were greeted with the sounds of music and many smiles. The place was already filled with happy folks celebrating special days and enjoying the ambiance. 

I was determined to taste a bit of everything because I had already purchased a cookbook featuring some of the favorite recipes from the restaurant. I wanted to know how each tasted and which might become my favorites. Since I had the opportunity to choose whatever I wanted at the buffet I took small portions of everything, returning again and again to the cornucopia of choices. 

I found everything to be exceptionally delightful and began to plan Thursday evening dinners with my grandson who enjoy the adventure of cooking. I reveled in the idea of the two of us attempting to reproduce the creamed spinach, jambalaya, sweet potatoes, and bread pudding. It was a most joyful experience that was punctuated by our friendly and knowledgeable young waitress, Jasmine. 

Following our scrumptious brunch we decided to visit the Cabildo where I had commented on the occasion of my honeymoon that I felt a sense of deja vu while there in spite of the fact that I was certain that I had never before been to the place. Several years later as I was looking through some of my mother’s old photographs I discovered a picture of myself sitting in a stroller inside the very building where I had experienced an eerie feeling that I had once before seen the place. 

We spent several hours enjoying the rich history of New Orleans on the three floors of the building that once housed the Spanish colonial city hall. The building itself is a wonder and the exhibitions point to the importance of the city throughout different eras and the many influences that have shaped the Crescent City on the Mississippi River. 

Next we visited the Presbytere which flanks the right side of side of St. Louis Cathedral matching the architecture of the Cabildo. It was originally the site of a residence for monks and later became used for commercial enterprises. Now it is known as the Louisiana State Museum where current displays show the history of Mardi Gras in the city and also present a moving account of hurricane Katrina. 

We spent much of the day in the two museums and then strolled for a time around the French Quarter until the heat of August became a bit too much to bear, so we headed back to the hotel to rest a bit until it was time for our main event, dinner at Antoine’s Restaurant, one of the oldest and most famous of all the eateries in New Orleans. 

We had decided to follow the older rules of dress for the occasion. During the days of our honeymoon men had to wear jackets and ties to enter the more formal restaurants, so Mike donned his suit. In the meantime I changed into a long summer dress. We were giddy with delight because I had often longed to try the storied restaurant and had never before been there even though our travels to New Orleans had been many over the years. 

We were a bit too early to claim our reservation so we once again went to the Carousel Bar in the hotel and found a window seat to enjoy the people watching while we sipped on our wine. it was almost as much fun as our tour of the two museums. 

Another short walk took us to the famed restaurant where we were feted as though we were among the many celebrities whose photos don the walls of the establishment. I imagined turning to see Earnest Hemingway making his way to a table or catching a glimpse of a movie star sharing the space with me. I felt like a star struck teenager just being there. 

The attentiveness of the waiters who catered to us was astonishing. They seemed to be mind readers who knew our every wish, arriving just as our glasses of water became a bit too low, noticing that we needed something. Making us literally feel as though we were the special guests for the evening.

We began our culinary journey with a trio of oyster dishes and ultimately decided that the charred oysters were our favorite. Then came our entree of Pontchartrain Pompano with onion rice, asparagus and creamed spinach. We ended with a divine bread pudding. Every bite was so divine that I felt that I needed an Antoine’s cookbook as well so I asked the waiter if one was available. He immediately went into the kitchen and returned with a copy that he carried like the crown jewels. Not long after the sous chef came out to autograph our new treasure, and treasure it is. It is not only filled with some of the best recipes but also tells the storied history of the restaurant and New Orleans. 

I was so excited that I hardly knew what to do. I don’t think that our day could possibly have been any better than it was. I should have been sad that we were leaving the next day but sometimes staying too long ruins the perfection, so I was resigned to making the final push to return home to resume my routines including once again teaching mathematics to a small group of students. Our vacation/rescue of our granddaughter had been more wonderful than I might have imagined. We had enjoyed a magical day. It was time to go back to reality.

After spending another evening in Meridian, Mississippi on the back end of our long journey we had one last stop to make before returning home. We deviated from the fastest route to Houston in order to get to New Orleans, the city that stole our hearts on our honeymoon. We were close enough to our anniversary to think of it as an early celebration so we stayed in the Hotel Monteleone just as we did so many years ago when we were two kids who had little idea of the amazing lives ahead of us. To my husband’s chagrin the place that he had so carefully chosen for our honeymoon was under construction back in that day, but this time it was gleaming. From the valet parking to every aspect of hospitality it proved to be the grand lady of New Orleans. I literally felt like royalty in the hands of the world class staff. 

Our room was pristine and quite lovely. I found myself want to take the whole setting back home with me because it was so perfectly adapted to our decorating tastes. If I had been taken there blindfolded I would never have guessed that there were other occupants around me. There was nary a sound and in spite of the record heat, we were as cool as cucumbers. Even the soap from England that was beautifully displayed in the luxurious bathroom. 

We only had Friday evening, all day Saturday, and Sunday morning to see the sights which is exactly how how honeymoon had been. In the long ago we were college students after all and had to get back to our classes by Monday morning. This time I had students waiting for me in the new school year and Mike wanted to resume caring for his father as soon as possible Nonetheless, we knew that we would be able to have an enjoyable trip down memory lane in a very short time because we had done so before.

Since we arrived at lunchtime we scurried across the French Quarter to get a muffuletta. Central Grocery was damaged during a hurricane and is still in the process of being remodeled, but the sandwiches were available at various locations across the city. We found one close to the original site and took our delicacy to a shaded bench near the river where a nice breeze kept us somewhat cool. While we ate we listened to the music from a band playing in one of the cafes. As usual the delicacy was as good as usual. When we were young and thin we each ate a whole sandwich. This time we purchased half of a sandwich and each ate one half of that. The big ones are the size of a fairly large salad plate. I can’t imagine anymore how anyone is able to consume anything that big.

Next we walked into the nearby shops. Mostly we explored them as an excuse to get out of the heat which was soaring into the hundreds. Along the way I found a couple of Christmas ornaments for our travel tree which is festooned each year with memories from all of our trips. I gaze at it each season and smile as I realize how many wonderful journeys we have shared. 

It is our tradition to purchase pralines from Aunt Sally’s as well. I am a traditionalist who insists on getting the original ones that we bought on our honeymoon. They are crunchy and oh so delicious just like those muffulettas. Once again we had to change our habit of buying a box of twelve to choosing only six instead. That would give us two each if we shared with Mike’s father.

After walking off our lunch we visited Cafe du Monde for coffee and beignet. Nobody makes the scrumptious puffs of powder sugar coated fried dough as well as they do and the coffee is to die for even on a warm day. Somehow under the covered patio with the big ceiling fans it was cool and comfortable even in the searing heat. While we were munching on our beignet and sipping our coffee a young man serenaded us with his guitar. He was quite talented as most of the street performers are.

We checked out a few more shops and made our visit to St. Louis Cathedral. While we were there a priest was singing and saying prayers with a group of young boys. It is such a beautiful place that brings a sense of calm to my soul. Somehow it has survived so many conflicts, tragedies, wars and hurricanes and still stands as a precious jewel at the center of New Orleans.

I always, always visit one of my all time favorite bookstores in an alleyway on one side of the cathedral. Faulkner House Books is small but filled with titles from authors who once walked the streets of New Orleans and loved the city as much as I do. I never fail to find a special book when I am there and this time was no exception. I discovered a fabulous compendium of stories from Eudora Welty that I knew I had to add to my library. Later that evening at the hotel I became instantly enchanted with the very first story. 

On our way back to the Monteleone we wandered down Royal Street visiting antique stores and shops filled with lovely art and clothing. One that caught our eye sold the most beautiful hats worthy of a visit with the king of England or an afternoon at the Kentucky Derby. Each chapeau is custom fitted and made to enhance the wearer. I did not dare ask how much they cost, but I admired them from afar. Later we purchased some coffee and a couple of mugs from one of the shops farther down the street and stopped in to see the antique guns and swords in another store that has been on Royal Street seemingly forever. 

Back at the hotel we stopped into the Carousel Bar and enjoyed some wine while delighting in people watching. There were young girls wearing fascinators and a group that appeared to be enjoying a reunion of sorts. Everyone seemed to be having as much fun as we were and I really did not want to leave because we had an excellent seat from which to watch the passing parade. 

Nonetheless it was soon time for dinner so we decided to try Acme Oysters for the very first time. We’ve visited New Orleans more times than I can count, sometimes just the two of us and other times with our daughters and grandchildren. We had passed by Acme many times but had never gone inside. It is yet another place that is part of the New Orleans mystique and lines to get a table form early. We were lucky to secure a spot right away where we munched on gumbo, oysters, and shrimp.

After dinner it was still light outside so we walked a couple of blocks down Bourbon Street just to say we had done so. We both agreed that it has gone down from what it was when artists like Pete Fountain and Louis Armstrong performed there. Now it has become a kind of scar on the French Quarter with its cheap bars and junky tourist stores. It seems to be mostly a raucous place for young folks hoping to get drunk on machine made cocktails served in silly plastic containers. Now most of the true musical artists have gone to Frenchman St to perform. Only Preservation Hall and Pat O’Brien’s remain as they have always been. 

We love New Orleans for its history and cuisine. We have outgrown the adventurous spirits of our youth. There was nothing on Bourbon Street that tempted us to stay. In fact, we were drawn back to our hotel where we spent the evening relaxing in our room and listening to music from around the world on Mike’s laptop while I devoured stories from my Eudora Welty book. We had a big day ahead of us for Saturday.  

Our journey to Monticello took us from Wilmington through a slice of Baltimore, Maryland and then through Washington DC where we saw the Washington Monument in the distance. I would have liked to stop but I have been there many times and we had to keep moving to meet the deadlines we had set for our trip. I had to just imagine the “feels” that I always get whenever I see the Lincoln Memorial or the Vietnam Wall. 

Soon we were back in Virginia driving through some of the most scenic areas in the United States. Along the route we saw many signs pointing to national park areas where Civil War battles had been fought. Since Mike reads historical books as a hobby he entertained me with stories of each conflict as we moved deeper and deeper into terrain that undoubtedly had changed little from the time that Thomas Jefferson lived there. 

Jefferson often claimed that he was most proud of being the author of the Declaration of Independence, writing the Virginia laws protecting the freedom of religious choice, and founding the University of Virginia. His time as President of the United States and in the political world was more of an onerous responsibility than a joyful experience for him and had no doubtedly delayed the completion of his beloved home. 

Monticello is perched on a hill that allowed Jefferson to view the mountains in the distance. It’s familiar domed roof is featured on the nickel. It was a busy place where Jefferson lived with his daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren along with over a hundred slaves, including many from the Hemmings family, as well as free craftsmen. It was the place where he read philosophy and studied science and engineering. In fact he spent so much time thinking and learning that his business enterprises never seemed to provide enough income to keep him out of debt. Producing funds was a necessity that he never mastered or enjoyed.

Jefferson had inherited five thousand acres from his father who died owing money to countless creditors. Thomas would do little better than his father. With his tastes for books, art and the accoutrements of a gentleman he was almost always in debt. His wife died young and only two of the children he sired with with her lived to adulthood. Daughter, Martha Randolph was the only child to survive past her twenties. Jefferson fathered more children with Sally Hemmings but never referred to them as his own. He did however free his progeny upon his death, fulfilling a promise that he made to Sally when the two of them were living in Paris. Because slavery was illegal in France, Sally was technically free while she was there and could have walked away without repercussions. Instead she brokered the freedom of her children and returned to Monticello with Jefferson. 

Monticello is impressive by any standards. Jefferson used the entry hall to showcase items that he felt would educate his many visitors. It holds a seven day clock that he designed to keep track not only of the hours but also the days of the week. Unfortunately when he attempted to set it up the mechanism he discovered that there was only room for six days from the ceiling to the floor so he had to cut a hole and use the basement to register Sundays. 

The room is filled with animal hides, maps, fossils and other interesting objects but there is no sweeping staircase leading to the upper rooms because Jefferson thought such decor was tacky. It is a quirky fun area that has so many wonderful things to see. 

The next room was Jefferson’s library. He was an avid collector and had acquired over two thousand tomes when he decided to donate them to the Library of Congress. Unfortunately his gifts to our nation were ultimately destroyed by a fire.  After giving the country with his prize collection Jefferson began purchasing volumes again and eventually had over two thousand volumes upon his death. Some of those originals are showcased at Monticello to this day.

Next came a room where Jefferson met with his guests for serious conversations. It is a delightfully sunny space with wonderful furnishings and paintings of Jefferson’s favorite philosophers like Isaac Newton and John Locke. He was a student of the enlightenment and patterned much of his thinking on the ideas of such men. Many of the ideas  he included in the Declaration of Independence reflected his belief in the rights of all men, a revolutionary thought at the time. Sadly his freedoms only included white men who owned land, making Jefferson an interesting enigma. It is difficult to reconcile his ownership of humans with his brilliant thinking, and yet such was the case. If only we might talk with him now to learn what he thinks of the evolution of the democratic republic that he helped to create.

Next to Jefferson’s salon was his bedroom. He created a cubby hole for sleeping inside an alcove and It was there that he  died on July 4, fifty years after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. By the time of his death he had become great friends with his once opponent, John Adams. The two men corresponded frequently and made peace with one another over their differences of opinion that had once made them enemies. Ironically they died within hours of each other on the same day. 

The bedroom leads to the dining room where Jefferson often entertained both locals and those who travelled to see him. Off to the side is a steep stairway to the second floor. and one from the kitchen which was in another building to prevent fires from breaking out in the main house. 

Thomas Jefferson owed almost two hundred thousand dollars to creditors when he died. His daughter who was his heir had to sell all of the slaves save for five that he had freed in his will. The house also had be sold to pay off the many debtors, including his son-in-law who had baled Jefferson out many times. A couple of years after Jefferson’s death the home was purchased by the Levy family and kept in good repair until it was finally donated as a national historic treasure in the nineteen twenties. Interestingly Mr. Levy, a Jew, had wanted to keep the house as it was in Jefferson’s time to honor the man whose legislation had insured religious freedom for people of all faiths including Mr. Levy and his family. 

Jefferson is buried on the grounds of Monticello. Today those who preserve his memory also tackle with the reality of his enslavement of humans. It seems to some to be the ultimate hypocrisy to speak of the unalienable rites to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness while justifying the reality that Jefferson denied so many those rights. It will forever be a mar on his intellect and reputation that is difficult to accept given that many of the signers of the Declaration were already confirmed abolitionists and even advocated for women as well.  

The right to freedoms in our nation has evolved enough that the tour now includes a stop at a contemplative garden to honor those who lived alongside Jefferson as slaves. Much study is being done to bring their voices to life as part of the tour as well. The journey to freedom and democracy for all continues in the United States as we strive to live up to those words indelibly written into the experiment in democracy unlike anything the world had seen. Fortunately we have been able to face our wrongs with honesty and make changes that had to be made. Perhaps one day we may even get closer and closer to perfection as we grapple with the reality that we are not yet there.

I suppose that there is nothing quite as dreary as a long drive back home after a picture perfect vacation spent in Maine. When the time came to leave our nest in Brunswick and say goodbye to our granddaughter we felt a reluctance to put the little slice of heaven that we had so enjoyed into our rearview mirror. Sadly reality was calling and we knew it was time to go.

It was raining rather heavily as we began to retrace the miles that had brought us. We sped along through Maine, then New Hampshire and a bit of Massachusetts. At a stop in New York state we were serenaded by a man with a surprisingly good voice and a very kind heart. He wished us godspeed and we set out for one more drive across the George Washington Bridge, a challenge in any kind of weather even for people like us who handle Houston traffic like professional Nascar drivers. Luckily we once more made it into New Jersey without incident even if the process of doing so was nerve wracking. 

From an area near the Newark airport we had a glorious final glimpse of the massive New York City skyline. It was a beautiful sight by any standards. I had to laugh because the owner of an art shop in Portland had told us that in spite of all the wonderful paintings that he had for sale, it was a pen and ink print of the Big Apple’s skyline that was the most popular. I totally understood why that was so and wished that I too had purchased one of the prints that so reminded me of what we saw as we moved along the highway.

We had gone many miles for many hours so we stopped a a Service Center along the New Jersey Turnpike that was as good as the Buccee’s that we have in Texas (and now in many other parts of the South). The bathrooms were huge and impeccably clean. The food options were numerous. We chose Prêt and enjoyed lovely ham and cheese sandwiches on croissants. It was just what we needed to push on with our journey, We were feeling refreshed and ready to complete the last leg of the day.

As we drove along it occurred to me that we were close to Princeton University, so in the spirit of visiting as many centers of higher education as possible we briefly detoured just to walk around the campus for a time. It was as beautiful and awe inspiring as I had imagined. It reminded me of an American version of Cambridge. I recalled reading in Michelle Obama’s autobiography that  her first reaction upon arriving at the campus as a freshman was stark terror. She wondered how it was possible that she had ended up there and felt an urge to bolt but knew that she had to push herself to demonstrate her mettle. Of course she was more than worthy and successful. The road to her amazing life was well on its way.

I have a cousin who once played football for Princeton. He is a tall strong handsome fellow who as a young man we lovingly called Superman/Clark Kent because he was both powerful and humble at one and the same time. I was glad to finally see where he had gone to college and felt even more admiration for him than I already had. 

Because of our deviation from the original travel plan we ended up heading back to Delaware by way of Philadelphia. There was no time to stop there, but I had visited before and smiled at the thought of the Benjamin Franklin Museum, Betsy Ross’s house, the stairs that Rocky used to train for his fight, and Independence Hall. It is a great city with so much American history that it takes days to see it all. I truly believe that every single American should visit there and read about our Founders who launched the dream of a new kind of government of the people and for the people almost two hundred fifty years ago. 

Those brave and intelligent men stunned a world order that did not believe that their experiment would be lasting, and yet here we are. I thought of the warnings they gave us about preserving our nation and realized that our government is not just a given. We have to work hard as citizens to ensure that it continues. Right now we are in an unusual place but also one that those brilliant men feared might one day come. It will be up to us to be sure that we do not let their dream die.

From Philadelphia it was a short hop to Delaware where we once again spent the night. I hate to admit that nothing about Wilmington spoke to me, but I was still glad to see it and add it to my list of cities that I have visited if only briefly. I realized as I counted Delaware it among my states that I have now seen every one of the fifty save for Idaho, Iowa, Oregon, Alaska and Hawaii. I suppose that my next journey needs to be in a westward direction through Iowa, Idaho and Oregon where I might also pick up Alaska with a cruise. Then I’ll only need to find a way to get to Hawaii and my state collection will be complete, a goal that my father was close to realizing before his untimely death. It would be up to me to secure his dream with a couple of extra places that were not part of our union back in nineteen fifty seven.

For the time being, our plan was to spend most of the following day seeing more of Virginia and traveling to Monticello to visit the home that it took Thomas Jefferson more that forty years to build. I suppose that he was a bit too busy doing other things to put it together quickly or maybe he was like my maternal grandfather who put together his home room by room until he had what he wanted. Whatever the reason, I was quite excited about finally viewing a place that had interested me for many years.