This morning's line was just as long, but there was nothing to do but join the line and hope for the best.  Within two minutes after we took our spot, a large group queued up behind us, elevating us to the middle of the line.  We began to wonder whether it would be worth the wait.  After all, we had seen the bell back in the 1970s when it resided at Independence Hall.  Then we heard an experienced teacher behind us reassure his adolescent charges, "Don't worry; this line goes fast."
     
As if to prove him right, the line suddenly lurched forward.  Within five minutes, we had moved from place 153 in line to place 1, as security personnel sped through perfunctory inspections of our bags.  Once inside, we found the exhibits informative and creative, not to mention almost too thorough.
    

After navigating through about five sections of displays, we looked at each other and said, "Are we ever going to see that bell?"  Fortunately the answer was around the next corner.
     
Ordered from England for the Pennsylvania State House (now known as Independence Hall) in 1751, the bell was rung for public announcements.  On  July 8, 1776, the ringing announced the first public reading of the Declaration of Independence.  Immediately recognizable by the distinctive line from its shoulder to the lip, the bell cracked soon after it arrived in Philadelphia.  Local craftsmen created a mold and recast the bell, reusing the metal from the English bell.  According to the ranger at the center, this bell cracked also and was recast a third time, using the same material. 
When bell #3 was rung in celebration of George Washington's birthday in 1846, a small crack in that version of the bell erupted into the fissure visible today.  The bell was not recast, nor has it been rung again, but it remains a symbol of liberty in America and around the world.
     
Liberty was the theme of the day as we moved just across Chestnut Street to the Historic Philadelphia facility for a showing of Liberty 360.  A program of the non-profit Historic Philadelphia organization, the show is promoted as "full 360 degree, 3-D movie experience."  Well, no, not exactly.  Hosted by Benjamin Franklin, the film never really takes advantage of 3-D technology until a special effect near the end, which also happens to be the only time the image reaches 360 degrees.
Though "spectacular" would be a bit of an exaggeration, the 15-minute show had a few "that was cool!" moments and provided information about United States symbols in an entertaining manner.  For kids nurtured on video games, this would be a good pick.  It's fast-moving and has enough special effects to keep the action addicts engaged.  Though not the free bargain of the NPS properties nearby, the $5 (senior) admission fee didn't feel excessive for the production.  As an added bonus, we had an congenial conversation with one of the friendly staff members, who not only gave us an excellent suggestion for a lunch location but comped us some free tickets to the eerie Eastern State Penitentiary museum.  Thanks!  You're a great ambassador for Philly.
     
Stopping briefly by Franklin Court, the site of the only home Benjamin Franklin ever owned, where visitors can view demonstrations of some of his inventions and innovations, we were a bit surprised to see an engraved marble marker indicating the location where the Franklins uh, er, took care of their business.  Happily there was no lingering aroma after 225 years.
     
Back to the theme of the day, we paid a visit to the National Museum of Liberty.  We knew it was not part of the NPS properties, but that's about all we knew.  Again, admission was only $5 each (senior price), so we decided to give it a try.  Forty-five mind-numbing minutes later, we staggered away with an understanding of what a personal project gone awry can become.
     
Though it name suggests a very specific aim, the museum's exhibits were erratic in focus.  Repeatedly, the hyped interactive nature of the displays seemed to require the visitor to deduce how a particular topic related to liberty.  A prime example is the pervasive glass art, which is apparently a special interest of museum founder and owner Ivan Borowsky.  The centerpiece of the glass collection is a stunning 20-ft scarlet Flame of Liberty sculpture by Dale Chihuly, which is inexplicably exhibited in the museum's gift shop.
     

Chihuly's Flame of Liberty

Many of the exhibits are merely posters detailing information about various individuals whom Borowsky finds admirable, including himself, portrayed as an "inspiring success story" of an immigrant who made good in America.  To read the enormous amounts of information presented on the posters would require a visit of at least 18 hours. 
     

Exhibit of posters at National Museum of Liberty

Children's overexposure to violence, people who have overcome difficulties, conflict resolution, children made from jellybeans.  Time and again, we tried to make the connection between the sometimes odd topics and the theme of liberty.  We finally found our answer later when we discovered a statement made by the museum's founder and chairman:  "The museum is a reflection of my life experiences and fear of escalating violence in America."  Oh, so it really wasn't supposed to be about liberty, after all.  Never mind.
     
With sound advice from our pal at Historic Philadelphia, we visited a local gastropub in the historic district.  National Mechanics, so named because it's located in the 1837 Mechanics National Bank building, claims to offer "the single greatest veggie burger in the known world" based on an ancient recipe formulated by Mayan mathematicians.  While we might take issue with the Mayan myth, we have to agree that it was a sensational veggieburger.  Service was friendly and timely, and the cost was reasonable. That's about all it takes to make us happy.
     

National Mechanics

Our final stop of the day was the facility the National Park Service calls the Declaration House.  When the Second Continental Congress met in Philadelphia in 1776, Thomas Jefferson was appointed to a committee asked to draft a declaration explaining why the colonies were moving to sever ties with Great Britain.  That committee assigned Jefferson the task of creating a draft document for them to consider.  

Distracted by the noise and heat of his lodging downtown, Jefferson rented rooms in a house at the outskirts of the city, where he labored in a quieter atmosphere for three weeks as he penned the first version of the Declaration of Independence. Though the original structure where Jefferson worked was dismantled in the late 1800s, a faithful reproduction sits on the spot, including replicas of the bedroom and sitting room that Jefferson occupied.
     

As we wound down our last full day in Philadelphia, we realized that we had never tried the local subway system.  From our city center hotel near the Convention Center, Independence Mall was an easy half-mile walk away.  With most of the other significant sites within a few blocks of there, we have found our historical touring of Philly to be a very walkable proposition.  Often sidewalks are wide, and in this area are kept quite clean.
     

Tomorrow we'll be back in the car as we leave Philadelphia and cross the Delaware into New Jersey.  Let's hope our crossing is a bit less dramatic than another one that comes to mind.

Commissioned by the city to replace a 1971 acrylic sculpture which had deteriorated beyond repair, the new bust, by sculptor James Peniston, incorporates casts of thousands of old keys that school children donated for the project.
         
We stopped for a brief visit at the historic district's Mikveh Israel synagogue, founded in the 1740s.  Describing the congregation as the "oldest continually operating synagogue" in America, a congenial member-guide invited us in and provided the brief tour we requested.  Though a few historical artifacts were in evidence, we were a bit disappointed to see the very modern 1976-era sanctuary with its plain lines and stark furnishings expecting something more like the beautiful neo-gothic synagogue of Savannahh's Mickve Israel congregation founded in 1733.
     
From the synagogue we followed the example of John Adams and headed to City Tavern for a bite to eat.  When Adams arrived in Philadelphia in 1774 to attend the First Continental Congress, a Philadelphian introduced him to City Tavern, not quite a year old and already the social center for locals and visitors.  Today we enjoyed a historical meal in a meticulous reconstruction of this tavern near Independence Mall.
     
Servers were dressed in period costume, and the menu featured cuisine authentic to 18th century America.  When we heard that the menu focused on period foods, we were expecting exclusively meat entrees. What a great surprise to learn that Ben Franklin had written a letter from London in 1770 explaining how to make tofu!  The food was quite good, and a buy-one-get-one-free coupon in the National Park Service newsletter sweetened the bill.
      

Near the tavern, we walked past the Philadelphia Merchants Exchange, a spectacular 1834 Greek Revival building that served as an early center of commercial and financial activities as well as America's first stock exchange.  Today it provides grand offices for the National Park Service.  Our next stop was one of the highlights of the day, if not of our visit to Philadelphia.
     

Second Bank of the U.S.

Completed in 1824, the Second Bank of the United States housed the fledgling republic's short-lived central bank until Andrew Jackson let the charter lapse on the unpopular institution in 1836.  Later the building was employed as a customs house until 1934.  Acquired by the National Park Service in 1974, the building now serves as home to portraits of famous Americans in the early republic.  Painted by Charles Wilson Peale and his family of artists from live sittings, the portraits include most of the founding fathers as well as other movers and shakers of the period.
    

Peale Portraits

A famous artist and portraitist in his time, Peale opened the first museum in America to hold portraits he had created, as well as specimens from his natural history collection.  His portraits had a distinctive format— realistic, life size, bust length, with a dark, empty background to focus attention on the subject's real appearance— no wigs or powdered hair here.
     
Peale was assisted in his portraiture by his brother James, and his sons Rembrandt and Raphaelle, whom he trained.  Their subjects were among the most distinguished Americans of the day.  In his emphasis on realism and accuracy, Peale's portraits flattered no one.  "Let them have truth!" he stated, at a time when other portrait artists romanticized their subjects' appearance to please the buyer and ensure payment. 
     

After popping into Congress Hall for the ranger talk and tour of the original meeting place for the U.S. Congress, we visited the National Museum of American Jewish History on Independence Mall.  Established in 1976 by members of the Mikveh Israel synagogue, the museum tells the story of the American Jewish experience, presented over three floors, each illuminating a distinctive historical period from 1645 to today.  Though there are tributes to famous citizens such as Einstein and Spielberg, most exhibits focus on the everyday lives of average Jews and the liberty they found in America.

      
In keeping with this mission, Jewish visitors to the museum are invited to tell their own story of their family heritage in a two-minute video.  The videos are on display in the museum and on the institution's web site (www.nmajh.org).  Those who don't have the opportunity to visit in person can upload a written verion of their family story with photo on the web site.
     
Exhausted and well-saturated in history, we dragged ourselves back to the hotel to rest up for one last day of Philadelphia touring tomorrow.
      

     

Our tour of Independence Hall took us to the two main rooms on the first floor, the courtroom and the Assembly Room, where both the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were debated and formulated. As our tour ranger pointed out repeatedly, the building, inside and out, has been largely restored to its original late-18th century appearance (except for some subtle indirect lighting near the ceiling).  It certainly did have a more authentic feeling than some of the more commercially-focused historic sites we have visited recently (yes, we're talking about you, Williamsburg!).
     
Arriving at our hotel well after lunchtime, we were eager to find a place to eat on our way to Independence Hall.  Thanks to our old buddy Yelp, just two blocks from our Convention Center area hotel, we found ourselves in foodly paradise. 
     

Reading Terminal Market

Occupying the ground floor of the former Reading railroad terminal (now part of the convention center), Reading Terminal Market is an enclosed public market serving any and every type of food one might desire, from bakeries to fresh fish, from produce to ethnic cafes.  Of course, we found ourselves drawn to Kamal's Middle Eastern stand, where we enjoyed some richly flavorful, perfectly prepared falafel.
     
Once we realized this afternoon how many places we want to visit in Philly, we decided to extend our stay to three nights, so we're looking forward to seeing more of what this historical city has to offer in the next couple of days.  Most of the historically significant sites are within walking distance of our hotel.  And there's also a special Van Gogh exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art

As much as we hate to burst anyone's childhood bubble, most of what we were taught simply wasn't quite accurate.  Just as the legend of George Washington's chopping down the cherry tree (and later admitting it) was fabricated to teach us about truthfulness, the romanticized version of the encampment at Valley Forge was intended to help Americans embrace the quality of perseverance.
     
In reality, the winter Washington and his troops spent at Valley Forge was considered moderate in terms of weather.  Soldiers resided in log cabins (replicas pictured above) which they built from trees on site.  Most cabins had some type of fireplace, and the soldiers slept on bunks, twelve men to a cabin.  Under the direction of military engineers, Washington's troops constructed a city of some 2,000 huts.  Though some soldiers did suffer from shortages of clothing, many soldiers had full uniforms.  While never abundant, provisions were available and the men cooked subsistence meals for themselves.
     
And lest we allow the perception of George Washington, the great sacrificial leader, living in a tent along with his men to persist, according to a monument erected in Valley Forge National Historical Park, Washington stayed in his "marquee" (campaign tent) only five days.  And by the way, at 24' x 14', his tent was hardly cramped.
     

Washington sublet the house from the owner's aunt.  During the latter months of the encampment, his wife Martha lived with him here.

Beth Sholom

Completed in 1959, the remarkable wire and glass structure stands out in a neighborhood of traditional homes.  Looking a bit like a tricorn hat or perhaps like a resurrection of Mayan architecture, the modern house of worship was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, who once referred to it as a "luminous Mount Sinai."  

Audubon home at Mill Grove

     

As home to the 150-acre DuPont Experimental Station, Delaware has certainly played an active role in the industrial history of America.  Established in 1903 as one of the world's first industrial research laboratories, the center was the birthplace of such familiar products as nylon, neoprene, Tyvek, Kevlar, and environmentally-friendly herbicides and refrigerants.
     
With no opportunities to visit with the chemists on a Sunday afternoon, we found a couple of letterboxes, planted a letterbox in Wilmington, and pointed our car toward Pennsylvania without experiencing too much history in the First State to ratify the Constitution.
     
When we stopped in Westtown to look for a pair of boxes on a nature trail, we were met with an unexpected treat.  In the middle of Oakburne Park sits a fanciful Victorian summerhouse that looks as if it were built on a Hollywood backlot for some fantasy film.
     

Built by a Philadelphia industrialist, the house was willed to a local mission to be used as a retreat for sick and convalescent women.  After more than 70 years in that service, the mission was unable to afford maintenance on the large estate and sold it to the township to be used as a park.
     

Near the mansion is a tower, whose whimsical design camouflages its pragmatic function of storing water to be used in case of a fire in the house.  Featuring two cast iron tanks elevated to take full advantage of gravity's pull, the tower, like the house it served, incorporates a variety of materials and colors.
     

Excuse me, Mr. Garter Snake!

While scrutinizing the trailside for poison ivy and stinging nettles, I unfortunately did not see this garter snake, who was sunning himself in the middle of the path.  Fortunately, my hiking boot caught just the very tip of his tail as I inadvertently stepped on the poor fellow.  Wakened from his solar-induced reverie, he scooted off the trail, pausing just long enough to stick his tongue out at me and give me a chance for a photo op.
     
We ended the day in Phoenixville, PA, about an hour from Philly and five miles from Valley Forge National Historical Park, which we'll visit tomorrow.
     
QUOTE OF THE DAY
 "Uh, you just stepped on a snake."     - Ken

We may as well adjust to the idea now, however, as we'll be seeing plenty of these collection plazas as we move through Pennsylvania, New Jersey and New York.  At least we don't need to worry about keeping a collection of quarters ready.  The trolls want the folding money.
    
Out of curiosity, we checked out which states are reaching deepest into our pockets for road fees.  We found this nice chart from the Council of State Governments (csg.org).
    
Since these states are charging more tolls for highway funding, would it follow that they collect lower rates of gasoline taxes, then?  Though it seems logical, this is not the case.  Four states made the top ten in both forms of taxation:  New York, Florida, Illinois and Indiana.  Seems a bit like double dipping into motorists pockets.

Giving credit where it's due, however, both New Jersey and Oklahoma balance high toll charges with some of the lowest motor fuel taxes.  And of those with the highest taxes at the pump, four have no toll roads within their borders:  Connecticut, Hawaii, Michigan, and Washington.
     
Driving from Baltimore into Delaware today, we became a bit bogged down looking for a mystery letterbox, which we finally figured out is located on an uninhabited island in the middle of a river.  An island which is accessible only by boat.  And we didn't bring our boat with us.  Truthfully, we don't even own a boat.  None of my arguments were convincing enough to persuade Ken to swim to the island.  And since I can't swim, it seems that we solved the mystery of where the box is located but don't have the means to reach it.  Ah, well, another of life's little disappointments.  We wrote the story on a piece of paper, sealed it in a bottle and tossed it into the river toward the island.  Maybe a heron or an osprey will find it and locate the letterbox.
     
DAILY STATS

• Miles:  118
• Letterboxes:  F 0, P 1
• Highway tolls:  Too darn much

Built in 1803 as part of the fledgling United States' coastal fortifications, Fort McHenry was attacked by British forces during the War of 1812.  During the Civil War, federal forces occupied Baltimore to ensure that the state remained in the Union.  They used Fort McHenry to incarcerate Maryland politicians who supported secession.  After Gettysburg, it became a POW camp for 7,000 Confederate soldiers.
     
By 1925 with no military value, Fort McHenry was designated a national monument.  Since that time, the fort has been restored to its mid-nineteenth century appearance.  A new visitor center opened last year to replace a small facility built in 1964.  The eco-friendly building houses a fascinating collection of interactive exhibits that tell the story of the War of 1812.  An original video, The Battle of Fort McHenry, dramatically tells the story of the battle with live-action footage and illustrative maps.
     

In the open area where the video is shown, a statue of Francis Scott Key appears to be watching with you.  At the end of the video, the national anthem is played.  As viewers stand at attention, the projection screen is raised to reveal a view of the flag flying over Fort McHenry.  Like the rest of the audience, we gasped at this moving sight.
        

In accordance with a federal executive order, the flag flies day and night at Fort McHenry.  The 42' x 30' woolen flag that inspired Frances Scott Key to pen the Star-Spangled Banner was created by a local seamstress with help from her daughter and seven seamstresses.  Major George Armistead had ordered the flag when he became commander of Fort Henry in 1813, declaring, "It is my desire to have a flag so large that the British will have no difficulty seeing it from a distance."  Little did he realize what that large flag would later inspire.
     
Though that original flag now resides in the Smithsonian Museum of American History, today the park service maintains three sizes of flags for Fort McHenry.  A full-size nylon replica of the famous flag is flown when weather permits.  The range of suitable weather for a banner this massive is fairly narrow.  Winds have to be 5 mph or greater for the flag to unfurl, but if the wind gets stronger than 12 mph, the flapping of the huge flag puts dangerous stress on the wooden flagstaff.  Five or more people are needed to raise and lower this large flag.
        

Like the 1814 garrison, the park service also keeps a 17'x 25' flag on hand.  Still very impressive in size, this flag is safer to fly in windy weather.  Both this and the huge banner are of the 15-star/15-stripe design used from 1795 to 1818.  Today was a bit windy, so the fort was flying a 5' x 9' version of the current 50-star flag.
     
Francis S. Key, Esq., a lawyer, and two other gentlemen left Baltimore under a flag of truce in September, 1814, in an attempt to secure the release of a friend who had been arrested by the British.  After negotiating with British officers on board their ship, Key and his party were detained on the ship because they had learned too much about British positions and plans to attack Baltimore.  Forced to watch the nightlong shelling of Fort McHenry from an enemy war ship and knowing a landing party had been attempted, Key eagerly awaited sunrise to see whose flag was flying over the fort.  Seeing the American flag, as any school child can tell you, inspired him to write The Star-Spangled Banner, the poem which became our official national anthem in 1931.
     
From Fort McHenry, we went to visit the final resting place of another famous poet associated with Baltimore.  Best known for his short stories and poems, Edgar Allan Poe often claimed Baltimore as his birthplace and home.  Though he was actually born in Boston and raised in Richmond, Poe was emotionally tied to Baltimore, where he lived for much of his adult life. 
     
After his death in 1849, Poe was buried in the Westminster Burying Ground in a grave near his grandfather.  Until 1920 when a Baltimore resident got permission to install a real headstone, the grave was identified with a stone marked '80' by the church sexton. Later this same supporter raised funds to have a larger memorial to Poe built.  Poe's remains and those of his wife and mother-in-law were moved to this location, giving the writer the distinction of having two headstones in the same cemetery.
     

The inevitable letterboxes were hidden near the original marker.  One saluted The Raven, Poe's most famous and celebrated poem while the other recognized the "Poe Toaster," an individual who paid annual tribute to Poe by leaving roses and an unfinished bottle of cognac at his grave for more than 60 years.
      space 

Though it is no longer open as a museum, we drove past the house that was Poe's final residence in Baltimore before his death.  The house was spared an appointment with the wrecking ball when a housing project was built around it in the late 1930s.  In the last two years, the city has elected to eliminate funding for the museum's operation as the high crime rate in its vicinity had reduced visitors to a trickle. 

     
We couldn't leave Baltimore without a visit to the celebrated Inner Harbor, lauded by urban scholars as "the model for post-industrial waterfront redevelopment around the World."   The Inner Harbor transformation in the 1980s attracted tourists to the city and won more than 40 national and international awards for urban planning and development.
     

Adjacent waterfront areas have undergone development in subsequent years creating a string of pearls along the shore.  These added condominiums, restaurants, retail spaces, hotels, and museums continue to attract tourists and locals to the riverside.
          

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History as Role Playing
Another letterbox we searched for today thrust us into the role of Confederate spies, searching for information that would guide General Jubal Early's attack on Washington, DC, during the Civil War.  Based on actual historical events, the clue, in the form of a secret message dated July 7, 1864, asked us to locate a cache of surveillance information to deliver to the general.  With spies all about, the actual location of the cache couldn't be revealed in the message but we were told that it resided in a recent addition to the Arlington Line of fortifications built to protect the capital city. 

Just what Jubal needs

We embraced our role as spies and conducted research about the Arlington Line and its forts, about Early's attack on Washington, and about the area today, learning a lot of history along the way.  Narrowing our search to a particular fort, we followed the remainder of the cryptic clues to locate a brilliantly executed letterbox with a logbook and stamp that looked as if they really could have been put there in the 19th century.

History as Mystery
A third letterbox we found today was near the grave site of the fabled "Female Stranger" of Alexandria, a woman who died mysteriously in the city in October of 1816.  Having arrived by ship ten weeks earlier, the ill woman was attended by a man who claimed to be her husband.
     
Ensconcing her in the best room the local inn had to offer, the man secured the services of a physician in his efforts to nurse the woman back to health.  During all this time, the woman's face was veiled and anyone who had contact with her, including the physician and later two volunteer nurses who spelled the exhausted husband, were sworn to secrecy regarding anything they may have learned about the woman.
     
Upon her death, it is said that the husband himself prepared her body for burial and sealed her coffin to prevent others from seeing her face.  He ordered an elaborate funeral for her and had a tabletop marker engraved with a loving epitaph in which he continued to shelter her identity: