Follow the Red Brick Walk

The Freedom Trail begins in Boston Common and is a self-guided tour that meanders for several miles through Boston’s historic neighborhoods. I’m familiar with it having followed the red brick walkway several times since I was in my teens. Last November I walked the trail for the first time with Steven, my youngest. My husband and son Eric were visiting Berklee College of Music. Steven and I were free to explore the city. It was his first time seeing the historically significant places in Boston. We began at the beginning, just like the yellow brick road, except we picked up a map full of “points of interest” at the tourist kiosk in the Common. (I don’t remember Dorothy finding a tourist kiosk in Oz.)…… We walked by historic buildings and churches, entered ancient graveyards (at out own risk) and visited Paul Reveres house in the North End. We learned when Mr. Revere bought the house it was already 100 years old. Two hundred forty years later it is surrounded by Boston’s Italian neighborhood and it is a couple of blocks away from the Old North Church. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow immortalized Paul Revere and the Old North Church with his poem of “Paul Revere’s Ride”. Also, the oldest bells in North America are at the Old North Church. They are rung every Saturday morning. We left the Historic Revere House and continued to follow the red brick walkway toward the church. The approach is through a rear courtyard to the front entrance. It is a brick lined, park like area with an enormous statue of Paul Revere on his horse. We had been on the Freedom Trail for four hours and my expectation was to quickly tour the church with Steven and end the trail there. We walked quickly because the sun was beginning to set and the wind had begun to grow stronger. As we walked a few people looking at something near the garden caught my eye. Curious, I automatically went toward them and that was when I first heard the sound. It was kind if a jangle and I didn’t recognize it. I was also unsure of what I was approaching. The small group there was quiet. After a moment they stepped aside and I read the sign that stated simply it was a Memorial to each of the fallen soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan. Every dog tag represented someone who had lost his or her life in these wars. The dog tags chimed and as they did I realized that the same breeze moving the dog tags and caressing my face my have been the same breeze that was in Iraq or Afghanistan on the day when these soldiers spirits moved on. The same sun that touched upon them blessing them with a new day was now setting and softly illuminating their memory with a hazy glow. The same moon now rising shares the secret of the pain of those who loose loved ones.

Standing in front of the memorial was the most profound moment of 2009 for me. Reflecting on the constant chiming of the dog tags in the shadow of the church that held the oldest bells in North America gave me chills. Let freedom ring. “America”, was first sung at another of Boston church, on the steps of the Park Street Church, across from the Common where we had started. I had learned that earlier in the day when I read about it on the map. The Freedom Trail that I had walked several times before this time walked me to a place unknown in my heart. I didn’t notice a destination of the heart on the tourist map or the change in the pattern on the walk way or how it got me there. I did however recognize how heart wrenching and poignant this memorial was and I was aware I wasn’t in Kansas anymore…