Self-Evident Truths

Monticello

I recently returned from a family vacation. We spent several days at Carolina Beach outside Wilmington NC. During our time away we were able to visit a civil war battlefield, take a cruise on the Fear River, walk through a carnivorous plant sanctuary (who knew such a place existed!) and eat way too much good food. It is truly amazing that you can place four sixty-something men together in a house for a few hours and they quickly devolve into teenagers (or in some cases toddlers!) Given how incredibly reckless we were as children, it's a blessing that we can all still get together, whole and healthy, only missing, between the four of us, one lung, one toe, half a fingernail and a whole lotta sense.

On the return home a couple of us detoured through Charlottesville VA to visit Monticello. What a stunning experience. I would recommend it to everyone. We only had time to explore the grounds, so I will definitely return some day to tour the house. Monticello is operated by a nonprofit foundation, not the National Park Service which meant they could wrestle with the moral ambiguity of the man who wrote the Declaration of Independence, created such a stunning plantation and own other humans. Situated on the top of a mountain, Monticello has glorious views and the sounds of songbirds surround visitors in a way you will rarely experience. The grounds are treated more as the story of the enslaved people who worked the plantation than of Thomas Jefferson, and unfortunately, that would not happen today if it were a federally owned site.

Thomas Jefferson was a hero of mine growing up. The name thing was important, of course, but his role in the foundation of the US and the Louisiana Purchase also stood out in my mind. Like all of our history, his truth is much more complex and uncomfortable than the stories we were told as children.

I was not named after Thomas Jefferson (or my name would be Thomas.) I was told as a kid by my parents that they liked the name Jeff, but not Jeffery, so they went with Jefferson. I actually think I was names after Jefferson St in Greenfield, Ohio. My dad spent countless months of his childhood visiting with cousins in Greenfield, so I'm pretty certain that is where Jefferson crept into his consciousness.

If I ever write my memoir, it will be titled Growing up Jeff. No one ever called me Jefferson until I got to college (except for my friend Thomas from 3rd grade. We introduced ourselves to everyone as 'we're Thomas Jefferson!') The student directory at Ohio State listed nine Jeff Smiths when I arrived on campus, so it made sense for me to start using Jefferson (although I never met any of the others. In 1979 there were nearly 41,000 undergraduates on the Columbus campus.) My oldest daughter figured out the name thing in kindergarten (she's advanced.) We named her after her grandmother but called her by her middle name because we did not want her saddled with an old-fashioned name. She came home from the first day of kindergarten and proudly announced that her 'grown up' name was Rosemary and that was that.

My lovely wife retired this week after working 18 years for the Franklin County Board of Developmental Disabilities. Denise also worked for Choices, our local domestic violence shelter, Ohio State University, Goodwill Rehabilitation, JC Penney and many others. Denise spent 1 quarter at OSU in 1980 and then left. She returned at the age of 36 as a working adult and took seven years to earn her BS in Social Work. Over the course of her career, she truly honored the clients she supported. I have always been in awe of her skill, caring and ability to deal with complex individuals in complex situations. They world would be a better place if more people were like Denise.

To learn about my novels or read past blog posts, visit www.jefeersonblackburnsmith.com .

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