Day 14

Last night, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed in the distance. Clouds covered the stars. We expected rain, but it never came. It’s so much easier to break camp when things are dry.

The rash on my foot and ankle is gone. The swelling has gone done. And I only feel a slight bit of pain when my foot brushes against something. The jellyfish sting could have been much worse.

Driving though Alabama is boring. It’s bland and desolate. Every town we have passed through looks like a ghost town. Homes and businesses are in various stages of disrepair. Occasionally, we pass a nice house, one that looks lives in and cared for. Some are even big. All of Alabama can’t be like this? Can it? Perhaps it’s just the route we are taking. It’s Sunday and I guess they really do take their God seriously because nothing is open. We are hungry and want to stop for breakfast but there is virtually no place to stop and the places that exist are closed today.

We’ve gone from the Civil War to Civil Rights. This morning we learned history the Grandpa-Spider way. I wanted to take G3 to the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma. While there, I thought it would be great to visit a few other Civil Rights Landmarks. I just wasn’t sure where we should go. It was Kati who suggested I look to see if there was an adventure cache. Sure enough there is cache that takes you to key Civil Rights landmarks and gives you a blurb about each one.

We saw the courthouse that enacted and enforced laws that prevented Black Americans from registering to vote. Along with literacy tests and economic tests it was only open to register voters twice a week and they would only register 15 voters a day.

We saw one of the churches where Martin Luther King and other Civil Rights leaders organized protests. There was also the hospital—the only one in 6 counties that treated Black Americans. It was there that doctors and nurses treated the people who were beaten by cops on Bloody Sunday. The cops had drenched them so badly with tear gas that it sat on their clothes and affected the medical staff.

In March 7, 1965, protesters planned a March from Selma to Montgomery to peacefully protest their lack of voting rights. The white Alabama leaders refused to let the protesters cross the Edmond Pettus Bridge. To prevent their crossing, State Troopers beat them. Hence, Bloody Sunday. (Cops have a history of not being the good guys.) The late John Lewis was one of the leaders of the March. Police beat him so brutally he thought they might kill him. Two days later, Martin Luther King led a prayer on the bridge. It was only with the protection of Federal troops two weeks later that the March was completed.

While we were there, G3 and I felt compelled to walk across the bridge. It was too hot for Kati. She sat in the shade.

Edmund Pettit was a Confederate soldier, Senator, and leader of the KKK. The bridge was named after him at a time when names were meant to remind Black Americans who was in charge. It is a reminder of Alabama’s extreme racist history.

The bridge is a National Historic Landmark. We wanted to visit the National Park museum but it was closed. It’s Sunday. I guess we’re supposed to be in church. The entire city was deserted. There were a few cars on the street and a couple of people, but that was it. It’s like everyone vanished. Or died. It reminded me of a scene from a dystopian or end of the world novel. The city is also in desperate need of a renovation. Buildings are decayed and falling apart. But closing tourist places on Sunday is one way to ensure that the city won’t bring in much tourist revenue.

Montgomery is a hopping place compared to Selma, but compared to NYC is too was deserted. It’s a small city, but to quote Kati, “It’s bigger than I expected.” We stopped by Martin Luther King’s Jr.’s house, but it is still closed due to COVID. The Rosa Parks museum is also closed because it’s Sunday. I am not liking Alabama.

We were able to do an adventure cache. It wasn’t as educational as the one in Selma. But it took us to a cool mural of Nat King Cole. He was born in Montgomery.

I feel terrible. G3 wanted to see the Tuskegee Airman National Historic Site. I planned for us to visit today. It never occurred to me that I should check to see if it would be open on a Sunday. I have been to numerous National Parks and they have never been closed on the weekends. Tourist sites sometimes close on Monday or Tuesday but weekends are when they get most of their visitors. But I suppose it’s those damn evangelicals who want to jam their religion down everyone’s throats. (I am all for Religious freedom as long as your religious wackadoodle ideas don’t negatively impact me.) Shutting museums on Sundays is also a great way to prevent people from learning history. And the South continuously tries to impede the learning of history, especially when it is not favorable to those in charge. I greatly dislike Alabama. It is by far—of the states I have visited—the one I hate most. I will take NJ over Alabama any day.

Geocaching saved the day again. The Tuskegee Airmen museum was closed, but the grounds were open. Alabama prevented the National Park from educating us this Sunday afternoon, but the cache took us on a brief tour of the campus. It even provided a short video. Motion Field was established in 1941 after Tuskegee Institute promised the U.S. Army it would train African-American pilots to fight in World War II. During the course of the war, it trained nearly 1000 pilots. In order to train, cadets needed at least two years of college. This was a steep requirement considering, at the time, only one percent of the African-American population went to college.

The fact that these pilots contributed to America’s victory is incredible. In the 1940’s, America was extremely segregated, especially in the South. These pilots were expected to fight for a country that wouldn’t even let them vote or sit on a bus full of white people. How do you fight to preserve a nation’s ideals when those ideals don’t even apply to you?

Alabama sucks, but the gas prices are the cheapest we have seen. I knew I could find something positive to say about the state. But that’s it. Don’t expect more.

It is raining. Buckets are pouring down on us as Kati drives. The sky ahead is blue. Let’s hope the rain stops when we reach our campsite.