In 1968 my parents took my younger brother Dave and I on a six week adventure in a truck and camper.  I was 11 years old and my brother was 9.

We traversed the United States across it’s mid section and headed up the historic east coast and into French Canada visiting Montreal. We then headed west to Ottawa entered back into the U.S. at Sault Saint Marie.  We saw the magnificent Yellowstone and stopped to visit Temple Square in Salt Lake City before returning home.  My Quaker father had a love of country and history that he shared with us all that summer.

We visited so many wonderful historic sites.  I was truly awed as we hiked up to the cliff dwellings of Mesa Verde.  My paternal grandfather David Gibson (b. 1881) and parents lived nearby and he regularly rode his horse to the site and explored. I now could see for myself the remarkable dwelling of which he had spoken.

As we rode along the more than 7,000 miles of highway, my brother and I saw it all perched in front of the wide screen window of a cabover camper.  We had no iPod or even a radio as we rode along.  No air conditioning, only windows for ventilation.  But, as my father said, “This is luxury compared to a covered wagon.”

We stopped in Philadelphia and visited Independence Hall and we touched the Liberty Bell. (Touching no longer allowed)  We arrived in Washington D.C. during the Resurrection City protest of late June ’68 and because of violence were unable to visit the sites until the very last day we were in D.C. when the protestors were removed.  The national Mall looked like a garbage dump.  We were only able to visit the Capitol, but the sites and smells of the city that summer stick in my mind to this day.

We then headed down to Jamestown and Williamsburg. My father related how his stepfather had taken him there around 1940.  Dad emphasized that it was founded 361 years earlier and that large number of years was difficult for an eleven year old boy to grasp.  When we set foot on the Susan Constant, Discovery and Godspeed which had ferried the colonists I was amazed at their small size and cramped quarters. As we spoke with reenactors and watched glassblowers, I realized I had stepped back in time and was truly reliving our history.

But, for me the greatest delight of those six weeks on the road was stepping into Colonial Williamsburg.  As we walked those streets we engaged in coversation with the cast of the Colonial tableau.  We tasted their food and saw them making the tallow candles that lit the table.  I watched in awe as young men in red coats, “Lobsters”, drilled on the Green to the sound of the Fife and Drum.  We walked the campus of The College of William and Mary and I admired the beauty of the Wren building.  We sat in the pews at Bruton Parish Church and heard a colonial Vicar deliver a sermon in an unfamiliar cadence of language, which nonetheless fired my imagination.

For 43 years I have cherished the memories of that summer and been grateful to my parents for being willing to endure my brother and I for six weeks in so confined a space.  The gift they gave me was a lasting love and compelling interest in the history of our nation.

That interest eventually led me to Riley’s Farm in Oak Glen and the Hawk’s Head Public House.  There I have found the same stimulating environment for my mind and the minds of my own children, now ages 24, 21 and 18.  I’ve stood and watched as Squire James Riley addresses hundreds of elementary aged school children who daily muster on the Green to learn first hand of that precious history I cherish.  He always brings a tear to my eye as he speaks of the courage of our forebears.

Thus, it was with great earnest anticipation that I awaited the premiere of “Courage, New Hampshire”.  Our history as a nation is so ripe with stories to be told and the “Travail of Sarah Pine” did not disappoint. The characters were vividly brought to “candlelight” by a gifted group of actors and a script that immediately drew me in and held my interest.  I was moved to tears by the simple trusting faith of Sarah and the redemption brought by her faith.  The political intrigue of the story also offerred a powerful missive… Human behavior has not changed in the last 240 years.  Individuals still use and abuse power to gain their own ends and desires without thought to consequence to others.

Sarah teaches us, that in spite of this fallen estate, a simple humble faith, held resolutely in the face of adversity and travail, has the power to lift us and deliver us.

Thank you and God bless you Squire James Patrick Riley for offering us this powerful tale of faith, love and redemption!  I eagerly await my next journey to Courage.