Written by: Dominick A. Miserandino Photography by: Margherita Miserandino
Guns, Chocolate and American History
This was our last day in Fairfax County. After a day like yesterday it was time to take things back down a notch. One of the biggest sites to see in the area of Fairfax County is Mount Vernon, the home of George Washington.
To me, the story of Mount Vernon is not in the traditional thoughts of Mount Vernon. Yes, it’s beautiful and, yes, it’s bigger than you’d expect in some senses and, in other senses, it’s not as big. Okay, yes, the view over the Potomac is great and yes it has a lot of history about George Washington. Yes, his and Martha’s graves are there and that’s very solemn to see. Okay, I got that all out of the way. There’s your traditional story, but the better story is the non-traditional stuff.
For example, the home was in disrepair and saved by a little old lady sailing by on a boat. When the boat passed by Mount Vernon it rang its’ bells as they traditionally did in honor of the president. Mrs. Cunningham ran up in alarm (bad pun intended) to see what was wrong and there was Mount Vernon, completely in disrepair. She was so upset by it, she told her daughter and Ann Pamela Cunningham of South Carolina who founded the Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association, the oldest historic preservation organization in the United States. It’s still run by the Ladies’ Association and not by the parks department as most people think.
Okay, here’s another one, George did a lot of the designing on his own and actually modeled the mansion after England, although he never set foot in England. An English house, by an American designer who never saw England. Or, for the 8.5 years of the revolution, he stayed with his armies and never stopped by Mount Vernon. He thought that it would affect morale if he was not with his troops. Every winter, though, Martha would pack up and spend time with him at winter encampment.
We were off again for our final stop at the Hamlet of Clifton. Already, when you call a town a hamlet, you know it must be fancy. Where I grew up in Brooklyn you only had neighborhoods and, anybody who knew what a hamlet was might know about Shakespeare and, therefore, shouldn’t be trusted.
Clifton has stretched across a range of economic and social status to become one of the richest and most expensive and prettiest towns in the neighborhood. The town was founded, originally, by freed slaves and now the 220 residents live in a hamlet that looks almost mythic as the homes appear just as they did over a 100 years ago. For example, there’s the quaint Canary Cottage B&B, which is actually the only B&B in all of Fairfax County. That’s a whole different story as shouldn’t you have more than one B&B in the area? Anyway, the B&B is typical of the area. Nothing is out of place and everything looks perfect and proper and antiquely expensive, just like the town.
We ate at the Heart in Hand restaurant, which was a favorite of Nancy Reagan, when she was First Lady. It was there that I had what I thought to be the worst ham quiche I’ve ever tasted in my life.
"Margherita, this tastes terrible," I whispered as to not offend anybody.
"Why? It looks great," she asked quite concerned.
"It smells terrible. It smells like fish and the ham tastes awful." I even made a very disgusted face to indicate how disgusting I thought it was. I mean, ham should not have a fishy, seafood taste. It just tasted... well, terrible.
"Dominick, you ordered the crab quiche." she said quite deadpan.
"Well, then it tastes pretty damn good." I said and dug my fork right in again.
Perception is everything. After clearing that up, I was quite happy, and sat smiling and eating, right by the fireplace, taking in the hamlet of Clifton.
View from Mount Vernon
After dinner, we jumped in the car and it was off to Dulles Airport to fly home. Now it’s that time of the story where I need to summarize everything. This was not the easiest story to write because of the diversity. I mean, we landed in an ice storm and saw lots of old houses in Fairfax. We got Margherita high on chocolate and then put a gun in her hands. We went to the best damn Italian restaurant in a location that was a bit confusing. We saw George Washington’s home and, then, visited a small hamlet and I was confused by quiche before heading home. I mean, "Dominick honestly, where’s the common thread? Wrap this thing up and bring us home!" Okay, if you’re not screaming that, I surely am.
I started it with Guns, Chocolate and American History and, yes, we covered those bases, but where is the common theme? Here it is for you... it was a weekend, a weekend perfect for the hyperactive personality in us all. A hyperactive weekend that covered our interests and made a great getaway. Boom, here’s some chocolate and, boom, here’s a gun. Okay, maybe the boom isn’t the best word to use next to a gun, but that’s your thread. It was a weekend in a place with enough stuff to fill the weekend. What if my story was only about American History, chocolate or guns. You’d either feel overly historic, like a chocoholic, or NRA happy. Here, you got an overview of all there is to do in an area that has a lot to do. Hooray, there’s the theme. A getaway with a bit to do, just outside of our nation's capitol.
