We began our quest towards the Ultimate Outsider title at Rose Hill State Historic Site. It was perhaps the most unlikely place to begin out of all of the 47 potential destinations for our little group. And yet, this is where we chose to begin our journey.
Even history would suggest that Rose Hill is an unlikely place to join anything. It is the home of William Gist who is referred to sometimes as the "Secession Governor" of South Carolina. Wary of what he deemed the young nation's overbearing intrusiveness into individual state affairs, Gist led the political charge in South Carolina towards secession form the Union. He was so adamant regarding his political bent that he christened his prodigy "States Rights Gist". Yes, that is the actual name William gave his child and had printed in the family Bible which is one of the many treasures preserved and shown visitors as they tour the historic mansion.
Rose Hill stands upon the very unlikely site of Union, South Carolina. The home looks like it should stand among its peers overlooking the Charleston Harbor and yet solemnly and silently presides over the outskirts of Union. I can't think that Gist loved that his city and county bore the name Union.
For us, the Gist residence was a most unlikely beginning point for our journey primarily due to Big Ben's tolerances. This was Ben's first historic home tour. He had, of course, been to museums but a historic home is so very different.
Museums are not quiet places. They are full of movement and noise as visitors freely explore interactive exhibits. You are allowed to pace your visit and move on from those that are of less interest to those that you find more appealing. A historic home is fundamentally different. It does not merely house artifacts - it is an artifact! A historic home demands respect and repose. It has rules. One may not run about; one may not freely wander; one may not touch.
Touring a historic home is difficult for any child. We were asking Ben who struggles in everyday social situations to do the near impossible.
And yet, don't expect a tale of woe to trickle down from my keyboard.
We arrived and the children straightway discovered the large bell in front of the office and had great fun ringing it via the rope pull. The interpreter at the historic site saw the panic in my eyes and laughingly assured me that bell ringing was encouraged at Rose Hill.
Before we began our tour, Anchor and I gathered our sweet ones together for a potty run. Bathrooms are very important and will be discussed throughout the telling of our journey. The bathrooms were located just off the parking lot in a separate structure as the house came to prominence well before the advent of indoor plumbing. To call the structure an outhouse would be entirely unjust. It was a cabin with a spacious front room leading to its two modern and well maintained toileting facilities.
After finding the excellent bathrooms, I was more optimistic regarding the success of our tour.
God had smiled upon us and Rose Hill was at the moment strangely deserted of guests. My parents had joined us for this tour. My mother loves taking pictures and my father loves asking questions. The interpreter met us on the mansion's front porch and explained the history of the family home and how the park system had acquired it. The interpreter treated our small group just the same as if we had been the governor and her entourage and spared no detail of her narration. We all listened and followed from the porch to the foyer as she explained more of who the Gist family was and how the parks had determined what the original color of the paint in the hallway would have been.
Ben though was finding little value in the framed Order of Secession that was displayed in the foyer. He began to loudly declare, "Sad." Anchor gave our son his Veggie Tale book which is usually a great distractor. "You're OK. Doing a good job. First house, then lunch."
Yeah, we attempted a historic house tour before lunch. I have had finer moments. It was our mistake and did not assist with Ben's mood.
The interpreter continued to lead us through the house giving Anchor and Ben sufficient grace and space but not missing a beat of her narrative. My father kept her busy with a slew of questions regarding the house, its history and contents. My mother took pictures as I glanced with worry at Anchor and Ben. I prayed Ben could last through the rest of the tour. He was getting louder and then began to try to scratch and bite Anchor. We have dealt with these behaviors before. Anchor quietly repeated, "No thanks. First tour, then lunch." Ben shot Anchor a warning look but seemed to calm. We were OK for a moment and then we entered the dining room. The dining table was decorated with very realistic looking fake fruit. Ben LOVES fruit. He wanted some. Anchor tried to explain that the fruit was not real. "First tour, then lunch." The ranger again kept proceeding through her interpretation of the property. She did not vary her pace or her persona. If she was uncomfortable with Ben's behaviors, she did not show it.
We followed her upstairs as we continued our tour. It seemed ironic to watch our motley crew ascend such a lovely and grand staircase. Still, up we went. We explored the elegant bedroom of Mr. and Mrs. Gist and then proceeded to the children's nursery which was decorated with period toys. There was a diminutive doll house, a crib with baby clothes and a ball and bat. My own children were entranced- all except for Ben who did not understand that his behaviors were not having his desired effect. Anchor kept patience and grace. He kept quietly repeating, "No thanks. First tour, then lunch."
We were out onto the porch and then back in through the ball room. Little Leg's eyes lit up as she imagined all the grand affairs that had transpired here. My father inquired as to tuning harps and shape notes. Ben's temper was rising as the party stopped for a moment while the ranger answered my father's questions. She was the most calm of us all and was not hurried nor perceivably uncomfortable. Ben was learning that sometimes he must wait. The tour continued back downstairs and the ranger completed her tale of the Gist family history.
Angels sang as we stepped into the sunlight. Ben had made it! So had Anchor! As promised, "First tour, then lunch." We were off.
Lunch was a wonderful discovery. We drove from Rose Hill and came upon The Bantam Chef. The older looking building without a nationally known name and mascot might have caused unease for some but we noticed the overflowing parking lot attesting to the quality of the restaurant. Locals know good food. We threw our trust to community wisdom and pulled in.
We were greeted warmly with a southern, "Hey, what can I do for ya?". We beheld a smiling welcome from the lady at the cash register. "We have everything but spaghetti," she laughed. Ben requested, "Cheeseburger" which seemed like a good idea to all of us. We filled up on cheeseburgers, fries and ice cream. There are some meals that are worth time spent sweating in the gym. Trust me, this was one of those.
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