When I was a young boy living in and around Chicago, my family often visited the Museum of Science and Industry. I remember the excitement of entering the U-505, a real German submarine captured in 1944, and tunneling down in a simulated coal mine. I also remember my fascination visiting Abraham Lincoln’s home in Springfield, Illinois, and being amazed to see a bedpan beside his bed. That got me thinking about how people lived differently in the 1800s—and about how this great President was also a human with wants and needs like the rest of us.
Over the years, I’ve been drawn to places where I could see the artifacts of a person’s life: The room in William Faulkner’s house in Oxford, Mississippi, where he attached to the wall index cards of the unfolding story of his latest novel; the green satin shoes, inkwell and record player in the Denver house of socialite, philanthropist and Titanic survivor Margaret “Molly” Brown; the children’s ice skates and the writing chair in the Moscow house of Leo Tolstoy, where he shortened the chair’s legs so he could be closer to his manuscripts as his eyesight worsened; the cramped spaces of a New York tenement house where refugee families crowded together and mothers stitched clothing by hand to make money and pursue a better life.
What places fire your imagination? And, as a related question, how can we step out of our own lives and experiences to get closer to—and better understand—the lives and experiences of others?
As always, I look forward to hearing about your experiences and insights—and the opportunity we have to learn from each other.
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Photo above is the engine room of the captured German U-505 submarine on display at Chicago's Museum of Science and Industry. (Photo by J. B. Spector/Museum of Science and Industry, Chicago/Getty Images)
While in Italy visited the home office and laboratory of Marconi. It was fascinating -from his window you could see the exact spot well he did some of his outdoor experiments
While living in Boise, ID I traveled much in the area. I often came across evidence of the Oregon trail and would think about the families searching for a better life and the trials they came across on the journey. This leads me to think about the immigrants coming to this country (a country of hope to many) and the trials they encounter on their journey before and after they arrive.
I also grew up in Chicago so I remember going to the same museums, etc. We love going to Presidential libraries, and museums. LBJ's was remarkable for the history told, but Hoover's was so interesting as his pre-presidential life was so filled with accomplishments, compared with his terrible presidency.
Every city I visit, I go to a museum, even if it is a city I have been to many times. You have inspired me to look deeper into local history, thank you!
The Book Depository in Dallas. Realizing how mortal even the President is while guarded has left me with a fear for the lives of subsequent Presidents. Life is temporal and governance of our Democracy as well.
When I was a young girl my family drove from Phoenix to San Diego every summer for a ten day to two week vacation. We always spent many days at the beach, and I eventually learned to body surf. For some reason I always felt compelled to go farther out from the shore than anyone else. I wasn’t satisfied until I was the farthest person out of any of the bobbing heads in the water near me.
Occasionally, and probably because I went so far out, I got caught in a rip tide. I knew that the way to get out of it was not to swim against it, but to let it carry me until it lost strength, and then I was able to swim toward the shore.
Occasionally when I finally made it back to the shore I was met by an angry lifeguard who yelled at me for not heeding their shouted warnings. But, I had a good excuse. I couldn’t see the lifeguards because I didn’t have my glasses on and I certainly couldn’t hear them, because well, I was so far away from the beach! My major concern wasn’t the rip tide or the angry lifeguards, it was that I had a hell of a hard time locating my family without having my glasses on.
Even better than the beach was the time we spent at Balboa Park. Balboa Park is a 1200 acre area set aside as a San Diego city park in the late 1800s and further developed as the setting for the 1915 Panama-California Exposition. Although we visited there in the late 1950s and 60s, it was filled with museums and exhibitions. All of the buildings were built in a unique architectural style called “Spanish-renaissance” and I loved it.
There were botanical gardens and multiple museums that displayed fine art, natural history, an aerospace museum, a conservation center, a museum of photographic art, a model railroad museum,
an automotive museum, Asian art, Spanish art, hospitality houses that displayed the cultures of many foreign countries, the Old Globe theater, the Spreckles Organ Pavilion, and much more. There were also many restaurants, some of which had breathtaking views of beautiful gardens.
I never got tired of going there. In addition to the museums, gardens & restaurants the groundbreaking San Diego Zoo was also located in the park. It became so familiar over the years that it felt like a home away from home. My husband and I visited Balboa Park a few years ago. I noticed the gardens weren’t as lush as they used to be and there weren’t as many museums and exhibits as there once were, but it will always be a magical place to me.
Any artist’s working studio
While in Italy visited the home office and laboratory of Marconi. It was fascinating -from his window you could see the exact spot well he did some of his outdoor experiments
While living in Boise, ID I traveled much in the area. I often came across evidence of the Oregon trail and would think about the families searching for a better life and the trials they came across on the journey. This leads me to think about the immigrants coming to this country (a country of hope to many) and the trials they encounter on their journey before and after they arrive.
I also grew up in Chicago so I remember going to the same museums, etc. We love going to Presidential libraries, and museums. LBJ's was remarkable for the history told, but Hoover's was so interesting as his pre-presidential life was so filled with accomplishments, compared with his terrible presidency.
Every city I visit, I go to a museum, even if it is a city I have been to many times. You have inspired me to look deeper into local history, thank you!
The Book Depository in Dallas. Realizing how mortal even the President is while guarded has left me with a fear for the lives of subsequent Presidents. Life is temporal and governance of our Democracy as well.
I visited a plantation and saw a slaves cabin which made me realize what life was like for them. A living nightmare for slaves with no way out
When I was a young girl my family drove from Phoenix to San Diego every summer for a ten day to two week vacation. We always spent many days at the beach, and I eventually learned to body surf. For some reason I always felt compelled to go farther out from the shore than anyone else. I wasn’t satisfied until I was the farthest person out of any of the bobbing heads in the water near me.
Occasionally, and probably because I went so far out, I got caught in a rip tide. I knew that the way to get out of it was not to swim against it, but to let it carry me until it lost strength, and then I was able to swim toward the shore.
Occasionally when I finally made it back to the shore I was met by an angry lifeguard who yelled at me for not heeding their shouted warnings. But, I had a good excuse. I couldn’t see the lifeguards because I didn’t have my glasses on and I certainly couldn’t hear them, because well, I was so far away from the beach! My major concern wasn’t the rip tide or the angry lifeguards, it was that I had a hell of a hard time locating my family without having my glasses on.
Even better than the beach was the time we spent at Balboa Park. Balboa Park is a 1200 acre area set aside as a San Diego city park in the late 1800s and further developed as the setting for the 1915 Panama-California Exposition. Although we visited there in the late 1950s and 60s, it was filled with museums and exhibitions. All of the buildings were built in a unique architectural style called “Spanish-renaissance” and I loved it.
There were botanical gardens and multiple museums that displayed fine art, natural history, an aerospace museum, a conservation center, a museum of photographic art, a model railroad museum,
an automotive museum, Asian art, Spanish art, hospitality houses that displayed the cultures of many foreign countries, the Old Globe theater, the Spreckles Organ Pavilion, and much more. There were also many restaurants, some of which had breathtaking views of beautiful gardens.
I never got tired of going there. In addition to the museums, gardens & restaurants the groundbreaking San Diego Zoo was also located in the park. It became so familiar over the years that it felt like a home away from home. My husband and I visited Balboa Park a few years ago. I noticed the gardens weren’t as lush as they used to be and there weren’t as many museums and exhibits as there once were, but it will always be a magical place to me.