Tag Archives: Family History

Road trip finale: A wedding, Little Sweeden in Kansas, and one adorable little princess

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Lessons learned on this trip: The long way is actually shorter, “Buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo, Buffalo buffalo” is actually a grammatically and semantically correct sentence, Kansas is windy, Colorado is beautiful, four people can comfortably live 11 days in a Prius, and despite what they say, no matter how long you stay away, you really can go home again.

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Aurora: The Forgotten Hometown

After leaving St. Louis, we continued west on the path of US 40/I-70 across Missouri and Kansas to Aurora, Colorado (near Denver), my first home and a place of which I have a total of zero memories. The place felt foreign to my parents as well, having grown dramatically in the 27 years since they had been there, but as they hunted down the places where they lived, the grocery stores where they shopped, the paths my Mom walked with me in a carrier as a baby, I was gradually able to attach images to the places in the oft-repeated stories and also glean background about their early life together that I had never known before. Click the photo thumbnails to come along for the tour.

Meet Me in St. Louie

Days 3 and 4 of our trip were spent exploring St. Louis, where my mom grew up and where we lived from just after my first birthday (1986) to the summer I turned 8 and Matt was 1 and a half (1993). This was the first time Mom, Dad or Matt had been back in 20 years. My last visit was in 1997 to see my friend London.

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Photos: Memory Lane (Dad’s B-52 and Mom’s college campus)

Our second day of driving included two stops that opened a window to my parents’ lives before I was born: In Dayton, we started our day at the National Museum of the US Airforce where we saw a B-52 that my dad flew in Vietnam, and in Indiana, we made a side trip to DePauw University, where my mom went for the first two years of college.

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Route to our Roots (Or, My Crazy Idea for a Family Road Trip)

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To know America, one has to understand how people have built their lives around the road, the access it provides and the activities it stimulates….The best place to search for the archetypal road that will illustrate how life becomes landscape is an old road — not a simple track, abandoned and backwatered, but a road with purpose, a road built in the context of nation building, a road that would become a key part of the national highway network. That road is the National Road.

-Karl Raitz, A Guide to the National Road

This is how the author of my National Road guidebook introduces the allure of traveling the Chesapeake-to-Mississippi route that became US 40, but for me, this route represents a key not only to knowing America, but to knowing myself.

When people ask, “Where are you from?” I often stumble a beat as the possible answers flash through my mind: Denver, Colorado, where I was born? St. Louis, Missouri, where I spent most of my childhood? Ellicott City, Maryland, where I came of age? Hagerstown, Maryland, where I first lived on my own after college? Frederick, Maryland, where I live now? I feel a connection to each one of these places, but there is a thread that runs through all of them: US 40.

Yet despite living within a few miles of US 40 in nearly every place I have ever called home, these individual sections have never felt connected in my mind. Traveling between them today, you hop on the Interstate, a sort of magic portal, and hop off somewhere else, transported. But this is not the only way: If you’re willing to drive a little slower, to mosey through downtowns and stop lights, to wind around twists and turns that were unsuited for the path of a freeway, you can still travel much of the route of the old National Road.

So when my family received an invitation a few months ago to attend my cousin’s wedding in Kansas and we began talking about incorporating the wedding into a road trip that would include returning to St. Louis and Denver as a family for the first time since moving away 20 years ago, I threw out what I knew could be a controversial idea: To take what would already be 50 hours worth of driving and draw it out even longer by following, as closely as we can, the route of US 40 and its predecessors wherever they diverge from I-70.

Whether or not we stick to that resolution, I know the experience of tracing the ribbon of my life back to the place of my birth will be an unforgettable experience, and I invite you to follow along with me here as I blog about our adventures in Prius camping, visiting quirky roadside landmarks, returning with my mother to her childhood home and more.

The journey starts Saturday, June 15.