Road Trip 2025: Day 33

Samson slept curled and tucked into my leg last night. Twice I woke up to go to the bathroom and both times he was there. He waited for me to return each time and I fell back asleep petting him.

For breakfast, my brother got bagels and we had a nice morning eating, chatting, and playing with the animals, especially Samson

who has an abundance of energy. It was a great deal of fun watching him chase the laser beam and run up the walls. However, he does torment Lily, the dog, who is much older. She is sweet and content to sit at our feet while we pet her. When we left, Samson looked at us with such sad eyes as if to say, “Don’t leave. I still want to play.”

Zachery Taylor, twelfth president of the United States, grew up on a plantation in Louisville, Kentucky. He fought in the Black Hawk War, as well as the War of 1812. History remembers him as a hero of the Mexican-American War, and he rode that victory right into the White House. However, the end of the war greatly expanded our country, once again raising the question of slavery and whether or not it should be permitted in the newly acquired territory. Zachary Taylor, a slave holder—the last president to have slaves at the White  House—did not support the expansion of slavery. He also did not support Henry Clay’s Compromise of 1850. When southern states started to talk of secession, he stormed against the threat, promising to lead an army against them. He intended to hold the Union together and was willing to go to war to do it.

But he died—while in office. The second president to do so. He had attended Fourth of July festivities in Washington DC. While there, he allegedly ate lots of cherries and drank quite a bit of milk. The next day he fell ill with stomach cramps. On July 9th, he died, most likely from drinking unclean water. Back in the 1850s, water for drinking was not purified as it is today. Cholera—and other illnesses—was not uncommon, and that’s most likely what killed Taylor.

Upon his death, Vice President, Millard Fillmore, became president. Despite being from the north—New York (His House is near Buffalo.)—he ended up being more of an ally to Southern slaveholders. After tossing his support behind Clay, the Compromise of 1850 was signed into law. This compromise included a more severe Fugitive Slave Act, but abolished the slave trade in Washington, D.C. Though Taylor had been a Unionist, his daughter married Jefferson Davis—but she died shortly after their marriage, so she wasn’t alive when he was asked to run the Confederacy—and his son was a Confederate General.

The only surviving house that Zachery Taylor lived in is his boyhood home in Louisville, Kentucky. Unfortunately, while it is a National Historic Landmark, it is privately owned, which means it’s closed to tourists. However, in G3’s quest to see every president’s house, we did what we could. We detoured to Louisville so he could stand outside, see the house, and have his picture taken in front of it. That makes 40. He has been to houses lived in by 40 presidents—and for some presidents he’s been to two or three houses—which means he only has five more to visit, and three of those presidents are still alive. Does anyone have connections to Biden or Obama? Connections close enough that might get G3–and me—an invitation to tea?

I am incredibly sad that our road trip is nearly over. It feels like we just got on the road. Unlike Kati, I am not ready to be home. Although, I do miss my kitties very much, and I am looking forward to seeing them. I hope Dante still purrs when I pet him and curls in my arms when I sit at my computer to write. I have always been happiest when traveling, going to new places and experiencing new things. Going home always depresses me. At least this year, I have the publication of my memoir to look forward to, but I am extremely anxious about the launch. I still need to find a venue in which to have it. Does anyone in New Jersey have any recommendations?

We stopped in Charleston, West Virginia for dinner at a southern soul food restaurant. The food was good—G3 really liked it—but the portions were tiny. I expect G3 to be hungry in about an hour. It’s very fortunate that my brother gave us homemade cookies for the road.

This evening, we are staying at Kanawha State Forest. It will be our last night on the road, our last night of camping. Our last night of freedom. Our last sleep without our fur babies. Depression about returning to life in New Jersey is hitting hard.

We got to the campground as it was getting dark. As soon as we had our tents up, I started a fire. Between the ungodly heat at night and the fire restrictions in Texas, we hadn’t had a fire since Bryce canyon. But I enjoy the fires at night. Some of my favorite memories of our trips are moments spent around a campfire. We didn’t have much wood, but it burned slowly. I am glad we had the opportunity to have one last quiet peaceful night in the woods. One last time to fall asleep listening to the cicadas.