The Boston Underground (maybe)

It's nearly Halloween again - a time of year that is interesting to me. Do I believe in "ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night"? No, but I do have respect for the traditions of the observance and for the thoughts and fears of those who have gone before. And what, after all, is Halloween all about? As Reb Tevye, the milkman, would say, in one word: "TRADITION"!

On my recent travels through Kansas, preparing for a tour of parts of the western United States, I wandered into a bookstore in Manhattan, Kansas. A new book by Matthew Pearl, The Dante Club, caught my eye. I don't normally favor murder mysteries, but I thumbed through the book and was immediately taken by the story being based in Boston, right after the American Civil War. Then I glimpsed the names of Longfellow, Lowell, Oliver Wendell Holmes, J. T. Fields and George Washington Greene - four of my favorite authors and the most prominent publisher in Boston in the 1860 era. The name of Dante Alighieri immediately moved me further because he is are high among my favorite authors and, like the Americans noted here, he produced works which will persevere through the ages to come. Now when thoughts of these worthies combined in my mind with Boston, the town where I was born and raised, well, the book was absolutely irresistible. I bought it and commenced reading.

A good portion of the plot is based on the existence of extensive catacombs and tunnels dug under the streets of Boston for use by The Underground Railroad and also used for entombment of church members. I spent a good portion of my formative years in Boston and during that time I spent many days and evenings walking about those glorious streets. Never did I hear of underground tunnels. As you can well imagine, my interest was piqued and my curiosity was aroused beyond my ability to resist traveling home.

I am writing this from Boston. I cannot find any evidence of underground excavations, except for this news item about a discovery in a churchyard cemetery: http://tinyurl.com/yu3zab

This hardly fits the bill for me. However, the idea of mysterious burial catacombs under the streets of Boston is truly in keeping with the "spirit" of the next few days. Thinking of the darker parts of the history of Boston - of Massachusetts, for that matter - reminds me of what modern society might say about the post medieval mindset of some of the early settlers of this area; truly of all of New England. How far away were these people from ghosts and daemons and ghosts and spirits and the "undead"? Not far at all.

So what do I intend to do for the next few days? I'm going to catch up visiting with my mother and my father and Fez. I'm also going to spend much of the next two nights silently pacing through many area church yards. Will there be catacombs there? Maybe not. Will I feel the presence of early Bostonians? Yes I will.

Regards,
M. Benetti

Frenching fries and farming wind in Kansas

Hello, everyone!

I may have told some of you that I was heading for the Flint Hills in Butler County, Kansas. I have a deep interest in alternative energy development programs. Even better for me than development are projects that put what we know into practice. It was with that in mind that I traveled to Beaumont, Kansas to take a first hand look at the one-hundred wind turbine installation on the Farrell Ranch, just five miles south of town. That installation is a model of what can be done with current technology (funky little play on words there) and points the way for future development.

My good buddy, Huddie Ledbetter, joined me in Beaumont. Huddie is one of those multi-talented people: he is an excellent musician - plays the twelve string guitar like a low-down angel; he is a photographer - his photo of the Farrell Ranch wind power installation is appended; he is a semi-professional motorcycle rider; he is a hot-rock pilot; he is a licensed Mississippi and Missouri river boat captain. He has a special nickname which fits him completely: "Leadbelly". I suppose that name was given him because of the fact that he can eat anything in copious quantities and never gain a pound. I've attached a photo of Huddie. I guess I've known him so long that I tend to call him by his first name because it just seems to fit the man.

One of Leadbelly's favorite foods is fresh cut French fries. When he is about to order a steak or a cheeseburger he always asks if the cafe cuts fresh French fries or if they use those horrible frozen sticks. He just does nip ups if the server says they have fresh fries. That's a pretty good trick for a sixty-year old, six feet tall, 230 pound man. But when Leadbelly is happy, he is ecstatic!

So Huddie and I stayed at The Beaumont Hotel and I have to say that the rooms are very comfortable and, best of all, the cafe serves fresh cut French fries. When the innkeeper answered in the affirmative to Huddie's ever hopeful question I doubt I've seen a happier man. He just looked at the innkeeper and said "My cup runneth over and sloppeth onto the ground."

The Beaumont Hotel is unique, not because it resides in a place that is nearly a ghost town, but because it caters to aircraft pilots from all over the country. Planes land on a strip on the east edge of town and then taxi along a street to the hotel. As many as eight aircraft can be seen at breakfast or lunch. Nice place to stay and eat. http://www.hotelbeaumontks.com/

I enjoyed this trip so much that I almost hate to move on. But I need to head north here to take a look at some of the rest of the Flint Hills. I think there are many financial opportunities here. I need to check further, though, because aside from some coffee acreage I own in my mother's native land of Costa Rica I've never really considered looking into agricultural investment. I suppose that may have to do with my distaste for taking advantage of some hard-working farmer or rancher. What I am looking for is something that will benefit the farmer as much as the investor - like I did in Costa Rica.

Ben, this post is taking too long and unless I stop now it could take the rest of the day. I'm closing with one of Huddie's photographs of the Beaumont wind farm.

Cheers!

M