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If you're curious about the French and Indian War, Fraunces Tavern probably won't help. They already know George Washington was a hero--at least--and don't need to explain why.
Some things defy explanation. There's a case containing a bit of Washington's hair.
A piece of the church pew he sat in, duly labeled as "wood."
An attractive little box, open to show a small piece of Washington's coffin. The tag on that one says who donated it, but not how he obtained it--bribery? Theft? A gift from the undertaker?
A fancy little container for one of his teeth. Except, as we all learned in school, Washington wore false teeth. Solemnly on display, in a bit of glass that looks designed as a pendant, is one of George Washington's dentures.
If the Sons of the Revolution were an explicitly religious organization, they'd have a piece of the True Cross.
Some things defy explanation. There's a case containing a bit of Washington's hair.
A piece of the church pew he sat in, duly labeled as "wood."
An attractive little box, open to show a small piece of Washington's coffin. The tag on that one says who donated it, but not how he obtained it--bribery? Theft? A gift from the undertaker?
A fancy little container for one of his teeth. Except, as we all learned in school, Washington wore false teeth. Solemnly on display, in a bit of glass that looks designed as a pendant, is one of George Washington's dentures.
If the Sons of the Revolution were an explicitly religious organization, they'd have a piece of the True Cross.
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From:
Reliquaries of a Strange Sacerdotalism
The collection there is a combination of High Concept and junk that looks like it was retired from the Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum in Niagara Falls, Ontario. Specifically, the scenes and characters carved into single grains of rice seemed familiar from field trips of my youth, as well as blurred by years of hydration and oxidation. The correspondence and re-created rooms of the famous people who may never have existed was more conceptual, as was the permanently out-of-order spectroscope of human emotions (or something like) that had a carbon arc, a microscope, and trays of powders labelled things like "Melancholy" and "Rage."
My subject line, btw, is a reference to a line Bob (Robert Charles) Wilson pulled out of some dire Lovecraft or Smith or Howard about a character encountering "the phylactery of a strange sacerdotalism."