Florida Day 13

We got to the campground in the dark and broke camp in the weak light of the early morning. The few hours we spent there were pleasant. There were no other campers near us which was lovely. This morning we got an early start because we have a long drive as we make our way north. And traffic is always much worse on 95 than when traveling out west.

John Tyler is one of those presidents we tend to forget. He was elected as William Henry Harrison’s vice president and assumed the office of the presidency when Harrison died only 32 days after his inauguration. At the time, it was unclear what would happen if a president died in office. Tyler, however, stepped into the role and set the precedent of the VP taking office upon the death of a president. (The Twenty-fifth Amendment, which clarified the order of succession, was not ratified until 1967.) Shortly after he took office, he defied his own Whig Party, vetoing legislation they supported. He pissed off his own party so much they tried—unsuccessfully—to impeach him. Before leaving office, he annexed Texas and signed legislation making Florida the 27th state. Sixteen years after leaving office, he voted in favor of Virginia seceding from the Union. He was also elected to the Confederate House of Representatives but died before he could actually serve.

Why is this relevant?

John Tyler happened to be one of two dead presidents whose houses G3 had not been to. (The other one is Nixon who is out in California, one of the states G3 has not yet seen.) His house is not a museum—not really. It is a private residence lived in by Tyler’s descendants. They have tours, but they are extremely limited—only two in all of August. You can contact them to see if they can provide you with a tour on a particular day, but only if you contact them at least a week in advance. We struggle to make those kinds of advanced plans. By the time I did contact them, they were unable to accommodate us with a tour. It’s probably just as well since the admission is steep, more than I have paid for any other president’s house and it’s not even a museum, just some dude who wants to make money off of his dead ancestor. The grounds, however, are open—for a fee of course—so we did what we could. We detoured to Tyler’s house—southeast of Richmond—so that G3 could at least see it and check it off as having been there.

Sherwood Forest Plantation—the house and grounds—is vast. That shouldn’t have been a surprise. Tyler ran a plantation, complete with slaves. Considering it is a private residence, the family did a decent job to make it look welcoming and appealing for visitors. There are markers around the property and pamphlets at the gate that provided a brief explanation of various landmarks: pet cemetery, ginkgo tree planted by Tyler’s wife, slave house, tobacco barn, etc. There were no interpretive signs. A couple of signs giving more information about Tyler’s life and his presidency would have been nice. But I suppose there really wasn’t too much to say about a man who was hated by his own party and supported Virginia seceding from the union. The major highlights of his presidency were provided in a blurb in the pamphlet. G3 and I walked around the property and I took his picture in front of the house. Someday I should make a collage of him standing at the door to the 41 president homes he has visited.

The rule is one winery for each president’s house. So, after walking around Tyler’s plantation, we went to Williamsburg Winery. The wine was okay but nothing that made us want to buy a bottle. From there, Kati was done with I-95. She hates it. It might be the worst, most boring highway in America, especially when you are on it for hundreds and hundreds of miles in one shot. Therefore, even though it is slightly longer, Kati decide to cut over to the Delmarva Peninsula.

Today was a long day in the car: seven and a half hours to Tyler’s house, a half hour to the winery, and then three hours to Maryland. Kati drove the entire distance until the last hour when it was getting dark. Then, it was my turn behind the wheel. We are camping at Pocomoke River State Park. I am fairly certain we stayed here previously—possibly at the tail end of our summer of 2022 trip, the last time we came up this way. We got in after dark when the camp store and registration were closed. However, the store and its placement in regard to the water is familiar. I may forget names, or other random details, but places stick with me. The cicadas are lively and loud. I will miss them when we get back home. That’s one of the things I really miss about my parents’ house in Mattituck. Sleeping with the window open and the sound of the cicadas coming into my room.

Tonight is our last night on the road. I am the only one who doesn’t want to go home. But, I will be happy to see my cats. I really do miss them.