One last morning at the Hampton Inn Downtown in Grand Rapids. I am really enjoying the hotel and do not feel like a part of a calculation to make money off of an investment. Doing only the minimum and always slightly disappointing. It really contrasts with the Holiday Inn Expresses. I will start booking Hilton again (I still avoid the Hilton suites). Also, the Hampton Inn rooms have been cheaper lately, sometimes by 30%!
I woke too early and could not get back to sleep. I would be tired all day. I was up at 5ish and on my laptop at 5:30ish. I tried to start the blog, but Deborah was up soon, and we were busy all morning. Mostly packed, we met Jeanne downstairs for breakfast. Better than industrial, but still simple. Today there were eggs.
We returned to our room, got some carts, packed, loaded, and while I checked out, Deborah and Jeanne repacked the car. On the road again, we parked soon at the President Ford Museum (the library is elsewhere). We started with the gift shop, and I found a signed book by history author Rick Atkinson, a new book. The collection, at 38% off, was a marvelous collection of history, politics, and social issues that any liberal would be proud to own, many signed by the author. I thought I was going to like this museum. And I did.
The picture of the Ford and his times is about overcoming trials with calmness and discipline. Ford, the story goes, restored Americans’ belief that government can work. The story of Ford’s life and his near-death in WWII on an escort carrier shows a smart and athletic man who had to learn to control his temper, also accept that he was a child of divorced parents (something I had not remembered), and make his own way to college, law, and into politics.
The displays covered his years in service in Congress in appropriations and as an expert on how Congress works. There was a quip that he was the only President to cover the whole budget with the press (which does not sound like fun). There was a display of the tools used in the Watergate break-in. The cover of Nixon and Watergate was excellent (as was the note at the Oval Office reconstruction, a sort of wink at history, that he had all the microphones removed from the office).
I had also forgotten that the Vietnam War ended with President Ford ordering an evacuation. It was on his watch that those terrible scenes with the helicopters and roofs happened. In the display was part of a hotel and steps leading up to it.
And not far from the Vietnam War was the bicentennial celebration, and I remember the strange feel of moving from war to celebration, but it did happen. I remember that for a year before the celebration, a train was carrying the documents like the Constitution around the country. It was a multi-year celebration that could be experienced (it was inescapable, I remember) anywhere in the USA. Congress had covered costs to bring the celebration everywhere so that everyone could experience it. Minority Leader Ford was working with Tip O’Neal to make it work.
Political comment (may be skipped): Compared to a hotel-like experience of a premium party for a few for a limited time, the 250th. No long-term planning, no sharing it with everyone, and no stamps for years celebrating each event’s anniversary. No re-enacting the events worked out with the National Parks for years. No reading of the Declaration of Independence all over the country. No ringing of bells. Just a flash-in-the-pan hotelier selling you a party. Trump’s version of America, Hotel America: if you can afford it, you can come to the party, but mostly you will be paid (likely under-the-table, with no insurance and plenty of undocumented workers) to work the party, at minimum wage with tips (but not much was collected in the jar).
There was a Dancing with the Queen exhibit at the Ford Museum, featuring a discussion of the special relationship between the UK and the USA. Even cards of QE2’s drop scone recipe could be taken. The display covered the founding of NATO, the relationship that formed during the war, and continued through the Cold War (part of the Berlin Wall is in the lobby). Adventurerism (on both sides) stressed the relationship, but it held, and Ford seemed to bring it back together with him and the Queen dancing together at the White House. The Queen’s dress (and Betty Ford’s) was displayed (loaned with permission from Charles II).
Betty Ford was covered in detail, including her challenges and the founding of the Betty Ford Clinic. There were also comments on her support for the ERA and challenges with breast cancer. She is the first person I remember having breast cancer and publicly admitting a substance abuse issue. I remember all the support for breast cancer research and treatments starting with her.
Only Carter was covered after Ford, and the place seemed to leave current politics alone, remembering another time when the insiders ran the Presidency for two and a half years. It was a marvelous place and recommended. We did visit the graves. You did feel that the Fords left the world a better place.
As we left, we saw that a cofferdam was being built near the museum and that a pile of rocks was ready. It looks like they are going to add rapids back to the Grand River. Yes, Grand Rapids will have rapids again.
We parked a few miles away and found lunch at Tupelo Honey, where I had a breakfast bowl. The food was good but heavy, and I was thankful I just went for a bowl instead of a platter! Deborah and Jeanne loved their lunch (though I cannot remember what they had; memory is a funny thing). I moved the car; I had, again, forgotten to take the key fobs with me, but again, nobody stole anything. I waited while Deborah and Jeane visited the fudge store. We were in the Ledyard Block Historic District, named after the building across the street from Tupelo Honey, which we admired as we enjoyed our repast. I checked while waiting that the McKay Tower luxury apartments were about $ 3,900 a month.
Next, we drove to Laingsburg, Michigan, my old hometown, to drop off Jeanne. On the way, Linda contacted me to let me know that Mom Wild was in the ER twice today, and Deborah and I headed there after dropping off Jeanne. We met Jesse, Linda’s husband, at Sparrow Hospital, and later I would relieve Linda and stay with Mom Wild. Mom was confused and worried that she would stay there “forever.” I talked to her, explained why she was there and what was happening (many times, as she could not retain the facts), shared my pictures of the trip, and tried to make her feel safe.
Before, and backtracking a bit, Jeanne’s father was there with the dogs (never pet Peanut). We unpacked, and there was a sad moment, as we all understood that the adventure with smoke, Chicago, wine, and a President was done. We hugged.
Aside: Often, the day returns in flashes rather than in a tidy narrative.
Mom is on a gurney against the wall in hallway B and location I. Yes, no rooms were available. I have been through this before with Susie and just stood in the hall (one of the staff brought me a chair). I never spoke to any medical professional while I was there. The place was slammed.
We could not stay, and there was little to be done. I cannot cover medical stuff here, but I can share that more tests and some measures were taken. I drove Deborah back to the Greater Detroit area, stopping by McDonald’s for dinner for me (and a snack for Deborah). We put away the fries half finished. Guess we are not kids anymore, and even a medium is a lot.
I had stopped at the same McDonald’s that Dad Wild used to take me to split a two-cheeseburger meal, and then get another one. No fries (“they overcharge for them”) and a small drink. I thought of Dad as I ate a not-terrible burger while driving. Deborah gave me the burger unwrapped while we flew at 75 mph to Detroit in Air Chevy.
The dogs, Trixie and Zelda, were excited to see Deborah when we arrived about an hour later. Donovan, Deborah’s son, was happy to see her too. We unpacked her items (forgetting one item for Liam in the car). I then, tired, drove to my hotel and checked in. They know me. In room 233, I called Dondrea and checked on the Brazil trip, updated information from the AAA travel agent, sent it back, and then finished yesterday’s blog.
More like I let words pour out of my mind onto the blog, and tried to keep some order to them. Grammarly had a workout. I tried to assemble a narrative and added lots of pictures, as Chihuly’s glass and art are hard to describe. I stopped about 10 and soon was falling asleep. I texted Linda, my sister, to call me if she needed me, and I soon slept and did not wake until after sunrise at 6.
I did dream and was with people looking at art and planning trips. The details have faded away, and I cannot remember who I was working with; it did not seem to be anyone I met before–a stranger in my dreams. I think Dad Wild was there and Deborah. If dear reader, you meet me in a dream, maybe we can see Dream Chihuly combined with a Presidential Museum and dream wine tour in Dream Michigan. It will be grand in Dream Grand Rapids. You all are invited.
Thanks for reading.
Alohawild (Michael Wild's) Website 