Shortly after I obtained my driver's license, I got brave enough to travel a longer distance than the liquor store. I headed to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania to visit the historic battlefield. I had always been a Civil War nut (short of reenactments) and Antietam I had seen recently (someone else drove). But Gettysburg I had seen only in textbooks. I wanted to absorb the feel of the grounds where Lincoln had stood delivering his famous speech after so many had perished. I wanted to envision the calamity of Pickett's Charge and wonder at how the Confederate Army was allowed to escape such a devastating defeat.

I drove to the city center with no problems and entered a building described as the Gettysburg Information Center. Perfect! Lots of cool pamphlets and souvenirs were offered to my delight but I primarily needed directions. I asked a lady employee in period dress where the battlefield was. She replied that the whole town was pretty much the battlefield. Not to quibble over the matter but I was sure that the conflict was concentrated over a specific area so I rephrased my question. So, if back in the day, I were to hear cannon fire, which direction would it be coming from? She squinted her eyes and was obviously torn by a question that left her so few options to cavil with. So I interrupted her facial tics to ask her a different question instead, This is an Information Center, correct? Enthusiastic response of Yes! Then could you direct me to the nearest location that could provide me with actual, helpful information? When she started eying the period muskets on the wall, I assured her I was joking and would satisfy myself with some brochures. Exit, stage left.


Three Replies to Information, Please...

Lori Lancaster | April 11, 2017
[hidden by author request]

Steve West | April 11, 2017
That would have been a smart thing to ask but I was largely naïve about such things at the time. Simply a smartass trying to become not one.

Scott Hardie | April 13, 2017
Good story, but come on, the Civil War's not supposed to be funny.

Your story makes me think I should plan a trip up there. I've seen a lifetime's worth of Abe Lincoln history in Springfield, Illinois, a town that depends more on Lincoln for tourism than Roswell depends on aliens or Hershey depends on chocolate. But I haven't been to Gettysburg, where I imagine there's a lot more to take in.


Web Junkie

Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »

Action Hero?

I remember back in the early '70's, my brother and I got new G.I. Joes for Christmas. They were pretty cool with the kung fu grip and "real-life hair and beard". Go »

Brenda's Diet Diary

Dear Diet Diary, As a Christmas present this year, my daughter, Lauren (what a thoughtful darling), bought me a week of personal training at the local health club. Although I am still in reasonable shape since being a high school cheerleader 40 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to give it a try. I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Juan Antonio (ooh what a name) who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. Go »

Insanity is Relative

Recent conversation with Brenda. Me: You know those signs that say 'Keep Off the Grass'? Brenda: Of course. Go »

It's Still Rock and Roll To Me

Recent conversation with Brenda: me: I heard a song on the radio on the ride home today and found myself returning to the 70's. Brenda: Like you ever left. me: Be that as it may, I was bobbing my head to Journey's Lovin, Touchin', Squeezin'. Go »

Love Letter and Goodbye

I had a very strange thing happen to me this morning. Overnight, I had a dream that featured my ex-wife, Betsy. I told Brenda about it and wondered what the image of Betsy represented in my subconscious that made me wake with such a clear image of her. Go »

This Was No Boat Accident

Vacation Tip #2: Maybe you're into sharks, pun intended. I, myself, am not. For the longest time this has been my greatest fear; being eaten alive by a wild animal. Go »