And on the 3rd Day of Winter Break, our hero goes all fan-boy…

Smart Phones are a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, I can check my e-mail while we on vacation. On the other hand, I can check my email while we are on vacation.

One of my AVID students is applying for the Gates Millennium Scholarship. She is a good student and definitely deserving of the scholarship. The problem arises that we somehow made a mistake on her application process. While we still have plenty of time to get this fixed, it means several hours of work for me on Wednesday when I get home. I’m not complaining, I’m happy to write recommendations for my kids and I love helping them find funding for college. It’s just more on my plate than I had planned on when I started Winter Break.

On day two of our trip, we returned to Colonial Williamsburg. We just couldn’t see everything in one day.

We started in the Governor’s Palace. The Governor was the most powerful man in Virginia, perhaps the most powerful man in the North American colonies. The King ruled the lands, and in Virginia, Lord Dunmore was the voice of the King. Entering the palace, one cannot help but be awed by the military might of the Governor.

Over 500 Brown Bess muskets and over 500 swords hang in the entry and the main stairwell.

Power exists in the carrot as well as the stick. Lord Dunmore had an entire building added to the original palace for the singular purpose of holding balls.




Here, twenty to thirty of the finest couples in the colony would dance through the night. The ball was the height of the social calendar, and only one or two would be hosted in a year. Toward midnight, the couples would retire to the supper room for refreshments, then return to dance the remainder of the night.





Perhaps the best part of my day was bumping into a hero of the Revolution.

The Marquis de Lafayette, at age nineteen, landed in South Carolina and volunteered to serve in Washington’s army. The young noble was wounded at the battle of the Brandywine and suffered with the troops at Valley Forge.

For someone who died in 1834, he was just as friendly as could be.



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