South Dakota

South Dakota is amazing. Rewind. How did I end up in South Dakota? Well... after three hours of extraordinarily frustrating conversations with the airline, during which time everything from my flight departure time to my airplane model and carrier was recounted countless each time the return flight was changed, only to be asked after submitting my money would I like a window or isle seat, to which I answered "window seat" and was informed, in a very pleasant Indian voice "I am sorry, there are no window seats available." So faced with taking a red eye to from Seattle to White Plains with a stop in Atlanta, I decided my driving was the best way to NYC.
Subconsciously, of course, I am delaying my arrival into the very harsh and broke reality that awaits me in New York as long as possible.
So, South Dakota. I arrived here after starting my day in Billings Montana, where, upon inquiring about the rigidity of id laws at check in I was informed that a girl had been brutally raped and murdered in the hotel next door next door. Well, after informing the girls at the desk that that information did not increase my sense of security, I was told that I was staying in the part of the hotel where the "extenders stay". This, apparently, is Montana lingo for burly men who live in two star hotels. So as I ask one girl about the murder, I hear the other call Earl, my next door neighbor, and tell him, rather loudly to "watch out for the single girl who is traveling to New York". Great. Now not only am I alone, but the entire hotel knows it.So after my fantastic and horror free night thank to Earl's psychic protection, I headed out to Wyoming.


Let me tell you, they really like that Rodeo logo. I mean really. So I got off at the "historic town" of Sheridan and had lunch. I mean really, what in Wyoming isn't historic? How many people have really moved there since the gold rush? Four. I can say this with veracity because I met them all. Today. I was also blessed by falling into several tourist traps, two healthy eating establishments and a wonderful cowboy boot store (highly recommend Brian's next time your in Sheridan Wyoming). Fearing I wouldn't make it to my dead presidents in time, I fled Wyoming and heading east to South Dakota.

As I entered South Dakota, I could hardly contain myself. Mount Rushmore was almost tangible. I had seen pictures but knew it was going to be so much better. My heart was rushing as I saw the 127 mileage sign at 4pm, fearing that I had spent way to much time schmoozing and eating in Wyoming and would get to Mt. Fantastic at six just as it was closing. Luckily it didn't close and certainly didn't disappoint.
Fortuitously I am no longer a teacher, or employed for that matter, and was able to go when there were no crowds, no kids and noise. It was just me, some randoms and two bus loads of ol' folks. I easily parked and sauntered through the hall of flags to the porch joyously taking minimally obstructed pictures. There they were- the four presidents. It was simply amazing. I know you have seen the pictures, but it is nothing like the real thing. Mount Rushmore is just absolutely breathtaking. The size and height of the mountain makes you realize the sacrifices people used to make just to create art for this country- let alone protect it. I just couldn't get enough - I wanted to snap every angle, and luckily I could. I leisurely walked along the path examining the fine stature from every angle,




















taking in inappropriate amount of pictures. A peril of digital snapping that I have decided to accept.
Finally I got to back to the amphitheater and waited for the show. To warm up, the park ranger asked a bunch of completely random questions, such as "which president was arrested and had his horse and buggy impounded by the police for speeding in D.C.?" to which my companions, all being a good forty years older then me, answered easily. Another ranger came out to officially initiate the ceremonious lighting. He did so by explaining how the ghost dance religion contributed to both the end the Indian wars and unnecessary massacre of Lakota men, women and children at Wounded Knee Creek on December 29 1890. This powerful speech was followed by a cheesy propagandaesque movie which discussed the achievements of the four presidents that made them worthy of their place on Mt. Rushmore. It also spoke, albeit minimally, to the suffering and loss the American expansion caused the Native Americans. Lastly, as the statue was lit, veterans and all persons who had served in the military were asked to get on the stage. After the flag was folded and the anthem sung, they introduced themselves and revealed their unit and sometimes their war as well. Whew. How emotionally. So, three hours after enthusiastically entering Mt. Rushmore, hoping to see some very big dead presidential heads, I left feeling invigorated, moved and hopeful that we can overcome the horrors of the war we are fighting abroad and maybe even help out the people living in poverty here.