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Previous posts in my series The Americans have included The Americans: prologue; The Americans: leaving New York; The Americans: Avenue of the Heroes; and The Americans: Valley of the Rogue. Feedback welcome. This is how the story begins.
Fast Trip to London
The first stage of my journey to Candy McCarthy, Cortez and beyond began in Manchester. That’s Manchester, England.
I left home at 3.30 Tuesday June 26thwith my usual red rucksack and fairly light load, my diary opens. Fast trip to London, as always.
January 1979, Isle of Mull
On the third of May 1979, seven weeks before I wrote that diary entry, Margaret Thatcher had been elected Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. This event is not recorded anywhere in my journals.
I did note the fact of my attending a “Final Selection Board” for the British Civil Service in London on 11 April, 3 weeks before the election. The first question from the intimidating, all-male panel, sitting in the Old Admiralty Building in Whitehall, was: (more…)
In 1979 I hitch-hiked for seven weeks around the United States.
What did I learn about the US of 1979, and what does that tell us about America today? What about me? How have I changed, and should I seek to reconnect with that carefree 21 year-old?
Find out on my page The Americans, where I have gathered together several episodes of my US odyssey. Enjoy the ride.
The changing of the guard at Arlington National Cemetery, July 1979
Here is my account of a visit to Arlington National Cemetery and the Pentagon, in Washington, D.C. on 6 July 1979.
Avenue of the Heroes
I walked towards the bridge.
Two metal statues flanked the road: huge, muscular, nude, bearded men on huge, muscular horses, each accompanied by a naked woman.
The women were both on foot.
One of the men clutched a child. Looking at pictures now, I am reminded of the statue of a Soviet soldier unveiled at Treptow, in Berlin, in 1949.
Also sculpted in metal on a titanic scale, the Soviet hero holds a child in one hand and an improbably large sword in the other.
The children which the men in Berlin and Washington are holding look eerily similar. (more…)
Welcome to “The Americans”. Who are they? What can they teach us about ourselves?
You can read more on my page, The Americans.
The prologue begins with me leaving Durango, Colorado, as the sun sets in mid-July.
The first thing I saw were his big butcher’s arms: broad and sheened with sweat. Next I saw tattoos; a square jaw, thick with stubble, set in a sullen half-smile, half-sneer; and a six-pack of Schlitz, wedged between his thighs on the driver’s seat.
Schlitz – the beer that made Milwaukee famous. What made Milwaukee famous made a loser out of me.
Was it dangerous to enter the cab of the old Ford pick-up? Standing by the roadside outside Durango in the evening heat, I had the usual split second to decide. I sensed contradictory feelings: fear; an urge to keep moving; and thirst.
‘Where are you heading?’ I asked.
The next town.
‘OK.’ I got in. The cab smelled of camphor.
My 1979 diary and Rand McNally Interstate Road Atlas. The flag was originally stuck to my red rucksack as a hitch-hiking aid
It was July ’79. Jimmy Carter was President. Donald Trump was a 33-year-old real estate developer in (more…)