I just got back from the dentist. I am wallowing in the post-dentist blues. I am not accustomed to finding myself drowning in the post-dentist blues. I inherited strong, cavity resistant teeth (thanks, Mom and Dad) and I freely admit that I floss daily. But what I thought would be a routine visit was not: I have multiple visits to an endodontist and an oral surgeon in my future, as well as the accompanying entanglement with Tricare. (What's worse? A root canal or dealing with Tricare? That's a tough one.) I am hoping that posting a few dozen pictures of our happy weekend will brighten my mood.
Ready?
First, a little history lesson is in order. During the 1830s early members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (aka "Mormons") were settling in western Missouri. For various reasons, they weren't exactly welcome, but the Latter-day Saints and the local citizens were able to reach a series of tentative compromises. But then in 1837 the headquarters of the church was moved from Kirtland, Ohio (we've been there!) to Far West, Missouri. So everybody in Ohio moved to Missouri. With the influx of so many Mormon settlers, all compromises broke down. (And that's putting it lightly.) Hostility rose so high that the governor of Missouri issued an extermination order against the Mormons. Yes, that means the Mormons had to flee or be killed.
So they fled across the state and then across the Mississippi River into Illinois. It was in Illinois, on a bend in the Mississippi, that they built the beautiful city of Nauvoo. They drained the swamps and turned the area into a thriving community of 12,000 characterized by orderly roads, commerce, industry, neat plots of land, tidy log cabins, and lovely brick houses. The Latter-day Saints also lovingly labored and sacrificed to build a beautiful temple. But before the finishing touches could be put on the temple, the Mormons were again forced to flee.
Hostility had followed the Mormons into Illinois. In June 1844, Joseph Smith, their prophet and leader, was martyred in nearby Carthage. After the murder of Joseph Smith, agitation against the Mormons continued, until the Latter-day Saints finally fled, leaving behind their homes and the newly constructed temple. Many families had just barely moved into their brick homes, looking forward to a peaceful life on the flats and bluffs above the River--only to find themselves crossing that River in the frigid winter, never to return.
So they, the early members of the Church, might never returned (they went on to rebuild their lives in a place called Utah--ever heard of it?), but we, the current members, return. To remember and honor their sacrifices, as well as learn from their faith.
Thus . . . . . . . .
There we were on a brisk Friday morning, piling into a wagon for a tour of Historic Nauvoo.
That's Eliza, David, and Luke (hidden behind the Star Wars hat). There is a cupboard of quilts available to riders for cold weather like this morning.
Let's take a closer look at the quilt David grabbed. Anybody recognize that pattern? Didn't everyone in the late 70s have those sheets (my parents included)? Awesome.
All kinds of history awaits you in Nauvoo.
This is Mary all bundled up for the ride. She slept most of the time. That's what happens when you wake up way too early.
Eliza taking a picture of David and Luke.
My turn to take a picture.
What a cute picture of these cousins. (I'm definitely feeling better already.)
Here is a glimpse of the temple from our wagon.
After the early Mormons abandoned Nauvoo, the temple was destroyed by arsonists and later obliterated by a tornado. It was finally rebuilt in 2002. (It is an inspiring sight.)
This shows what a typical plot with a log home might have looked like. In this particular site is where one of the midwives lived.
I took the above picture precisely because I was worried I would leave with only pictures of the red brick homes and none of the wooden ones. But it seems I never bothered to take a picture of a typical brick house. Sigh.
After the wagon ride, the kids said hello to the horses, Jed and Jasper.
After the wagon ride, we decided to check out a few of the historic sites around town. You simply walk in to whatever building strikes your fancy, and someone (a friendly older volunteer missionary) will be there to greet you and give you a demonstration on how that site fit into life in the community. (It's kind of like Colonial Williamsburg, except free and not as crowded.)
Don't worry. I didn't take pictures of every place we visited--but almost.
We first went to the post office, where the children had an opportunity to write an envelope-less letter. (Paper wasn't cheap--and neither was sending a letter.)
The post office also served as a small general store, where items such as this water yoke, modeled here by Luke, would have been sold.
We learned about newspaper making at the print shop. (It gives me a headache thinking about placing all that type, backwards no less.)
We toured the lovely John Taylor home. The family abandoned it just four months after moving in.
There is a sweet story behind that rocking horse. (After fleeing, a father braved crossing the Mississippi at night to sneak back home and retrieve the beloved horse for his heartbroken son. The horse made the journey all the way to Utah, and has since been donated for display in Nauvoo.) We all enjoyed the potty chair. I doubt that one sings a song when you tinkle in it.
All the kids were the most excited to visit the gun shop.
Apparently, Jonathon Browning (and later his son) was quite the gun maker.
David was enthralled. (Why are guns more exciting than, say, learning how tin cups were made?)
After lunch, we visited the blacksmith, where we watched a demonstration. Here are the boys all lined up, watching. Luke has his hand raised, ready to ask a question. And look at that chubby cheek on the right. That would be Evan's adorable chubby cheek.
Mary and Eliza were interested in the demonstration too. (I have to pause and say what great pals these two gals were. Eliza just took Mary under her wing, and Mary was in heaven.)
By this point, David was beginning to tire of all these demonstrations and little tours.
But the next day I found him playing with two sticks, and he said he was "blacksmithing," so this one must have made some kind of impression on him.
Here is a view of the temple from a backyard.
I realized it's not all that different from this 1846 view.
Here is a view of my daughter. She's beautiful. And clearly from Wisconsin, where 50 degrees calls for flip-flops.
Later that afternoon, Greg and his brother Chris visited the temple, while Leslie and I took the kids to the Family Living Center, where there are a number of demonstrations on various 19th-century trades, such as pottery, bread making, spinning, and barrel making.
All day I never ceased to be amazed by how much physical labor and skill was involved in daily life. From spinning wool to smoking meat to greasing wheels. The knowledge and skills that would have been found in this (and most other) 19th century towns is amazing to me. And, to think, I can't even sew on a button. (Actually, I can, but it's generally a three-hour ordeal that involves at least one trip to the store.) We have really lost our ability to care for ourselves. (But, no, I am not moving off the grid any time soon. Maybe I'll plant a garden one day.)
Here is David assisting with the making of a rope.
Evan helped too, as Luke looks on.
Evan is so cute, I've gotta throw in another picture of him.
And with that sweet face, I'm signing off for the day.
By the way, it worked. I'm not feeling so bluesy anymore. All those faith promoting stories about Nauvoo. All the cute cousins. Plus, the warm fuzzy feeling I get when I remember that we took our vacation where everything is free, gloriously free. (That will help when the oral surgeon's bill shows up.)
