Williamsburg: Won’t catch
me in that goofy hat!

Robyn’s ’Hood
By Robyn McCloskey

I have visited Colonial Williamsburg three times in 17 years.
The first was during the dog days of summer. I was one month away from giving birth to our second child and had a 2-year-old in tow. I don’t recommend it. The second time was about five years ago, when my husband and I went to Virginia sans children for a weekend wedding and had time to kill before the evening ceremony. Again it was the dog days of summer, but at least I wasn’t pregnant or toting a toddler.
And just a few weeks ago we visited again, this time for a conference, and again we had time to kill. Thankfully it was in February and not August, so at least it wasn’t hot or nearly as crowded.
But it was still boring.
I don’t mean to bash Colonial Williamsburg, it’s just that I don’t get it. I get the idea of it. Experiencing living history and all that. Walking the same paths that George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Patrick Henry walked a couple centuries ago. And, of course, taking the predictable photo of a loved one with head and arms locked in the stockade, smiling broadly, though I get the feeling the experience wasn’t so fun-filled in the old days.
Anyhow, other than that, there’s not much else to it. Sure, there are the re-enactors and tour guides who, I learned the hard way, take their jobs very seriously. We took a tour of the Governor’s Palace and our guide, dressed in the latest fashions of the day, talked as if she were best buds with Governor Dunmore and his family.
"For dinner," she told our group of tourists, "we have duck, ham and gelatin followed by dancing in the ballroom . . . oh what fun we have!"
About halfway through the tour it began to concern me that perhaps she’d lost touch with reality, that she truly believed it was 1774 and expected the guv to emerge from the kitchen any moment with a sandwich of duck leftovers.
And then there’s all the Ye Olde Shoppes, which led my husband to observe, "Why are they called Ye Olde Shoppes . . . back in Colonial times wouldn’t they have been Ye Brande New Shoppes?"
It was interesting to observe the other visitors taking in their day of history. It seems Colonial Williamsburg is quite the hot spot among grandparents and their grandchildren. Every other kid we saw was holding the hand of an elderly person and looking rather retro — the boys wore tri-cornered hats, the girls sported those Laura Ingalls-type white sleeping caps, and a lot of the kids also toted fifes and drums.
Now I ask you, other than this one day in Colonial Williamsburg, where else are these kids going to wear tri-cornered hats or play their fifes and drums? It’s not like they can wear these things to school or soccer practice. The other kids would laugh them out of town.
It’s like people at Disney World wearing mouse ears. There is no other place on Earth where you can wear this stuff and get a compliment. So these poor grandparents on fixed incomes are shelling out big bucks in Williamsburg for silly hats and plastic instruments that will end up at the bottom of the closet, useless, at least until we declare war on the British again.
It seems we have John D. Rockefeller Jr. to thank for all this "living history." The late philanthropist and scion of the filthy-rich family of industrialists apparently shelled out most of the moolah for this family-vacation destination, driven by a basic ideal: That the future may learn from the past.
I believe John D.’s heart was in the right place. I think Colonial Williamsburg is a good idea in theory. In reality, it just leaves a lot to be desired.
And even though actor Jack Lord (of Hawaii 5-0 fame) hasn’t been with us for 10 years, there’s a twentysomething version of him that stars in an antiquated movie that explains the history of it all. At least, that’s what my husband said. Since I fell asleep halfway through the movie, I’ll have to take his word on it.
The popular consensus is that Colonial Williamsburg is a great place to visit, but I’m sticking to my opinion. To quote the Colonial-era Thomas Jefferson, "A little rebellion now and then is a good thing."
So the next time I have the opportunity to visit, I think I shall pass and hold firm to the truth I hold to be self-evident: Personally speaking, I have fulfilled my Colonial quota.
And no, thank you, I don’t care to go to Plymouth to see some rock. ••
Robyn McCloskey’s column appears each week in the Northeast Times. She can be reached at crmccloskey@verizon.net