Sunday Gratitude – On This Hillside
Last weekend I spent a couple of hours walking around Somerville and Cambridge with one owlet while the other was recertifying as a soccer referee in Somerville. The walk took us down busy streets, past restaurants that looked appealing (Juliet’s in Somerville, who has been? Thumbs up or down?), to Harvard Yard where we ran into Brazilians instantly recognizable by their accents, and then refreshed with Kung Fu Tea before heading back through Wigglesworth, past Widener and back to Somerville. I have to say part of my gratitude is a walk with a teenage owlet who was in a chatty mood.
The other gratitude is a surprise history lesson–one that first made me laugh. Being a “mature” (ahem) runner myself, I am frequently side-lined with some injury or another, and the thought that maybe I am too old to run has crossed my mind. I am not, however, being chased by Redcoats with guns, at least not that I am aware of, and really you should be able to pretty much see those dudes with all these naked trees around.
After both the owlet and I smiled and took a photo, I went home to find the story. On that long long day of April 19, 1775, Lexington was the first battle, but Washington Street in Somerville was the last. And James Miller was the last colonist to die that day, as he sacrificed himself to let others get away. Hopefully, this will not happen while out for my 6 miler with the neighbors this morning.
Sunday Gratitude: hidden history. I absolutely love finding it.
I feel this. As I recover from my bionic knee replacement, and think of all the many life-improving surgeries and treatments from which I’ve benefited in These Modern Times, I often think, “what would have happened to me if I’d had this during colonial times?” Maybe I would have been commemorated on a stone in Cambridge.