a.d. elliott - Take the Back Roads

Dear Henry, For the last couple of weeks, I've been painting.  I was blessed when I moved to our home in Salem, Virginia. The former owner really loved her home, and she was also a "blue" person. I was able to move in and feel right at home. Consequently, I've not done a lot of home improvement.   That period of leisure has come to an end. It was past time to paint the porch and the deck. It had been a couple of years since we moved in, and after the massive amounts of rain during Helene, painting was more than due. Physical labor couldn't have come at a more welcome time. My mother has dementia and balance issues due to a lifetime of opiate, benzodiazepine, and alcohol abuse. Some months ago, she had a terrible fall, and it became clear that we were going to need to place her in some type of care facility. However,  because of the challenging dynamics in my family, my uncles took over the care of my mother. My youngest sister and I were assured that my mother was

Dear Henry, I took a little road trip up I-81 to Lexington, Virginia. Let me tell you all about it. Lexington, Virginia, is a small town sixty miles northeast of Roanoke and also near the Great Wagon Road. The Monacan people originally populated the area, but by the mid-1700s, Euro-American settlers began moving into it.   The town was officially established by the Virginia Assembly in 1775 and named after the Battle of Lexington, one of the first battles of the American Revolutionary War. Nestled in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, it is the gateway town to some of the area's natural features, including Horse Mountain, Goshen Pass, and  Natural Bridge . This unique geological feature was once a rustic resort of Thomas Jefferson's and was often frequented by the Founding Fathers. Lexington became the county seat of Rockbridge County in 1777. Tragedy struck the town in 1796 after a fire, which began at the livery, decimated nearly every log and frame building. The city

Dear Henry, After making a big deal about moving to Roanoke (read about that here ), we didn't stay. Worse, we moved more than a year ago!   Since we first married, Fish and I have had a "dream house" in mind: a cabin on an acre in a canyon in the woods with a creek. We couldn't find it in Roanoke, but we did find it in the neighboring city of Salem. It's a cute little town with its own history. Let me tell you all about it. Salem, Virginia, was "discovered" by the Euro-American explorers Thomas Batts and Robert Fallam in 1671 and was called "Totero Town" after the native Totero people. In this instance, the land transfer from the Totero people to Euro-Americans doesn't appear to have been forceful but rather the result of disease decreasing the population of Native peoples. However, I'm sure there have been unrecorded skirmishes. The first notable Euro-American settler was the Revolutionary patriot Andrew Lewis, who built an estate nam

Dear Henry, I just returned from a pilgrimage to the Portiuncula in Steubenville, Ohio. Let me tell you all about it. The Portiuncula is a small church about four miles from Assisi, Italy. It was initially built around 350 by hermits from the Valley of Josaphat.  Around 516, the chapel, named Our Lady of the Valley of Angels, passed to St Benedict of Nursia and the monks of Monte Subiaco. The church was on a small piece of land (known as the portiuncula) at the edge of their property. Because of its size and age, it wasn't used, fell into disrepair, and was largely forgotten about for many years.  Around 800 years later, in 1206, St. Francis of Assisi was on a pilgrimage to Rome when he had a vision in San Damiano. In it, Jesus spoke to him from the crucifix and told him to "go and repair His church."   St. Francis took the vision seriously and sold everything, including his horse and clothing, much to the chagrin of his wealthy parents. He moved to a small hut in Assisi,

Dear Henry, We recently went on a road trip to see the New River Valley Gorge Bridge in West Virginia. Let me tell you all about it. At 53 miles long and 1,000 feet deep, the New River Valley Gorge is the longest and deepest gorge in the Appalachian Mountains. Its name, "New," is somewhat of a misnomer, as this is one of the oldest rivers on the North American continent, and no one is really sure where the name came from.  Some sources say it is a translation of the Native American name for the river, and other sources say that as Euro-American settlers moved west, they noted this river as "new" every time they came across it.  Historically, this was part of coal mining territory. However, after the bridge was built and a National Preserve was created, the area also began to see an increase in whitewater rafting and other outdoor recreation.  Construction began on the bridge in 1974. It was designed by Michael Baker Jr. and consists of a single arch that spans 3,030

  Dear Henry, This is the story of how I learned to live again. How I Lost My Shoes In The First Place In March 1998, a heavily intoxicated man committed an armed robbery of a local convenience store. During the police chase to capture him, I was struck (as a pedestrian) by the assailant’s (stolen) car while crossing the street. He was estimated to be traveling between 35 and 40 miles per hour . My top seven left ribs broke and were pushed over my spine. My left shoulder, elbow, and hip were severely damaged, and my left tibia and fibula (the lower bones in my leg) shattered and sent the bone protruding out the front of my leg. My leg also developed a complication called compartment syndrome, where fluid builds up between the muscles and the fascial sheath that covers them, cutting off circulation to the affected area. I also had severe head trauma.  It was a miracle that I survived. The initial prognosis was bleak; I was not expected to live through the night, and in fact, surgery f