Friday, January 16, 2015

Story Time - Ford's Theatre

Everyone's got that one excruciatingly embarrassing story from their childhood. Well, I can think of a couple... Here's my top embarrassing story, for your enjoyment:

When I was about 12, my family (Mom, Dad, my little brother Kamryn, and I) took a trip to Washington DC. It was vacation for everyone but Mom, as she was going to a CME conference while we visited tourist attractions. One afternoon after her classes were over, we met up to visit Ford's Theatre where Lincoln was shot. We stepped into the performance area and we saw that booth where the famous President was shot. We marveled at how small the theatre was - a fraction of the size of Proctors!

Downstairs, below the stage, is a museum. Mom and Dad dragged us down there to look at artifacts and photos. Mom spotted a life-size cardboard cut-out of Mr. Lincoln and just had to get a picture of us next to it. I took off my forest-green ratty backpack with all my stuffed animals and books in it, and stood next to the freakishly tall figurine.

*click* Mom was satisfied with her photo, so we kept on walking around the museum, looking in glass cases and reading articles about the shooting. Suddenly we heard one of the employees call, "The museum is now closing. Please exit the building." Confusion. I looked to my mother. "Mom, I thought the museum doesn't close until [sometime many hours later]?" She shrugged and we headed up the stairs to leave.

As I climbed the stairs, I noticed how light my back felt, and when I reached over I noticed that my backpack was still off. "I forgot my backpack," I turned around to get it. As I approached it, the employees watched me carefully. "Is that your backpack?" They asked. "Yes," "Are you sure?" "yes, that's mine." They opened it carefully to reveal the stuffed animals and toys that I had brought with me.

"You can come back in now!" the employees called to the herd of frustrated visitors. I was so confused. Then I realized- They thought my backpack was a bomb!

I remember my mother and father talking with the employees about it afterwards, and I was so upset I demanded that we leave. How embarrassing! We crossed the street and I remember slinking to the ground behind a box truck and crying. Mom obviously thought it was hilarious and she couldn't wait to tell her friends about this one. I, on the other hand, was mortified, and I wanted to disappear into nothing.

The weird thing is, I've never seen the photo of me next to Lincoln.

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