I am Simon Jester

My American Journey

Posted by Ted Bronson | Filed under Patriot's Journey

My American Journey started in California. Born there, lived there until I a was two. Then back East, by car. No big superhighways for my dad, no sir. We took Route 66. (Believe me, I’ve seen the slide show: it’s freaking beautiful.) Then we lived in Indiana, Ohio, North Carolina, Georgia, and Alabama. For a while there, we moved around every year because of Dad’s job. If I had a quarter for every time Dad pulled over at a historical marker, or a scenic overlook, or some battlefield out in the middle of nowhere, I would be a rich man.

Dad had an interesting way of navigating. Keeping off the freeways, he would get to an intersection of two highways and literally decide on the spot which way to go next. Sometimes by vote, sometimes by flipping a coin, sometimes just by asking Mom “Well?” When he saw some thing interesting on the side of the road, we would stop and explore, either for a few minutes to read the plaque saying that such and such is the spot where Fred Finglebberry invented Fingleberry soup, or for a few hours to climb up the mountain path at Kennesaw in GA.

But Alabama is where we settled. Near where my mom grew up. And I got to know every dirt road, fresh spring, and good fishing hole within fifty miles.

I enlisted, went overseas to every continent save two, saw their sights, loved their food and women, saw parts of the US I hadn’t seen before such as the grandeur of the high desert of TX, got back to CA for some training, and lived VA in for seven years. While living in VA, the road trip down to Kitty Hawk, using Dad’s navigation technique, was far and away the most awesome spot I had yet visited. Here was where men learned to FLY! The trip to DC was on business with no time for sightseeing. But when you see the Mall lit up at night from the distance, you can actually feel the weight of responsibility and the soaring lift of knowing that you are doing the work of great men who came before you.

I returned to Alabama, met and married Hazel, had two kids, and moved to Florida. Our kids gripe at us about looking at one more roadside sign just like I used to do to my dad. But they, like I, are learning in spite of themselves about how great a place this is where we live. Where we can travel from state to state without travel papers. Where we can carry a handgun to protect ourselves from predation. Where WE decide where we are going to live, what careers we are going to follow, and how we can educate our children.

My journey is not yet over, not by a long shot. And as long my kids navigate the way my dad did, his journey isn’t either.

This is a Patriot’s Journey post. Remember to check out the other Patriotic Journeyers: Drumwaster, The Bastage, Inessential Musings, and The Edge of Reason