When we last left our intrepid explorers, they were careening towards Boston for a wedding.
We stayed at a hotel right by Fort Devens, MA. The design of the hotel, which caused the slightest wind gust to sound like a howling gale past our window, led me to believe that it had once been part of the original base barracks back in WWI. It was nicely remodeled, but I’d know that barracks breeze from experience. With plenty of time before the wedding, Samurai and I set out to explore the obviously haunted barracks and historical grounds. Samurai noticed that my ghost hunting skills do not include reading signs. Signs from beyond the grave? Yes. Large, threating signs right next to me? No. Continuing across the parade grounds, we were thankful for our flu shots when reading about the 1918 influenza epidemic that killed 821 Soldiers and medical personnel. If I needed a ghost to slap an anti-vaxxer, I’d find them here.
Our favorite Boston couple, codenamed the Penguins, were to be married at a historical tavern venue dating back to 1740. We joked with the Penguins about waiting for their wedding date for almost as long. These two nerds were made for each other. At the beginning of the vows, they did rock-paper-scissors to see which one of them would go first. The ceremony was peppered with references to D&D, gaming, and further fandom. It was an absolute treat to attend.Bull Run is a beautiful venue with a historic covered bridge. The only covered bridge knowledge I had before this wedding involved Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman. Luckily, the bridge ceremony took place before darkness fell, so no one had to throw a pumpkin to save the bride. Who knew a Disney cartoon could have such a lasting impression? I took my West Coast willies inside to the dancefloor where the bar was open, and the food was hot. Cheers to Mr. and Mrs. Penguin!
Boston Baked Beans
The following day, we ventured forth to experience historic Boston. Guided by Betts, a local friend who knows a bit about baseball, we navigated into the city. Before we had even parked, we passed some historic Boston baked beans in the median. FYI, everything is historical on the East Coast. Rather than concern ourselves with the future of the median beans, we chose to go full-tourist and find the Freedom Trail. The Freedom Trail is not a red, white, and blue path to a backyard BBQ with Lynyrd Skynyrd blaring while bald eagles play baseball. It is a group of 16 nationally significant sites around Boston. Each is connected with a red brick path that covers 2.5 miles across the city. Again, my previous experience with Boston was limited to playing Fallout 4, where I explored the city in the year 2287 after a great nuclear war. I went into full geek mode, pointing out all the places I had eliminated mutants or mirelurks. Samurai, Betts, and Bee just humored me as I described the issues with zombies outside Trinity Church. Reign it in, weirdo!
Days later, Samurai mysteriously received a new glass and the following letter:
Dearest Lady S,
We, the ghostly forefathers of Boston, hold these truths to be self-evident, that we were arseholes when we tripped you whilst on your journey of the Freedom Trail. I admit to hearing of your renown as a fellow “Sam” and am ashamed to admit that jealousy caused my boot to venture afore your comely ankle. As you lay upon the historic cobbles, the shatters of your pint glass languishing in its cardboard casket, we deeply regretted our transgression. Accordingly, all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, this spilled tea was our burden to bear. Directly, we contacted the glassblower employed at the Tavern of the Sturdy Stone. Please accept the enclosed glassware and our deepest apologies.
Samuel Adams and The Sons of Liberty
P.S. We did not pay taxes on this pint. Cheers!