We set out on a Tuesday morning, headed north on I-77 for most of the trip. In one vehicle was Mom, Dad, Robbie, the Queen, & me. Meeting us at the hotel from the D.C. area were my brother & aunt Betty.
On the agenda was Moundsville, the West Virginia Penitentiary, downtown Wheeling & Independence Hall, Oglebay Park, and the suspension bridge on Wednesday, and Golden Palace on our way out Thursday. Lots to cram in to one day and one morning, but we did it. I have 854 photos to prove it (no worries—all won’t be posted here.)
All of us are native West Virginians except for the Queen, but she is by proxy. None of us had ever traveled to Wheeling, which is in the northern panhandle. You can create the shape of West Virginia by holding your hand in the air, palm facing you, thumb out, middle finger up, pointer, ring, & pinky fingers down. Wheeling would be at the very top part of your middle finger/northern panhandle. If you tried this, hopefully no one is sitting in front of you, or else you’ll have some explaining to do.
But I digress.
Like clowns in a clown car, all 7 of us piled into the mini-van and set out Wednesday morning (my sweet little mom sat in the very back with my brother and me—bless her heart.) First stop—Moundsville.
Pre-historic musings
Most things historical I’ve even been to have been—at the oldest—250-300 years old. The Grave Creek burial mound was begun somewhere between 250 – 150 B. C. by the Adena people. So when Jesus was across the pond feeding 5000 with some fish & bread, or calming storms & healing the sickly folk, the Adena people’s culture was already on its way out—had already made its mark in what would eventually be called “Wild, Wonderful West Virginia.”
Wow.
From below, I looked to the top & wondered what prompted the Adena people to choose that spot—that particular spot out of all the land around. After traversing a few hundred spiral steps that led me to the top, the 360* view offered a theory. It appeared this was smack-dab in the middle of the valley (I’m in WV, so I have to use our terms and descriptions,) and the view was beautiful. I imagined no roads, no houses, no power lines and bridges and 7-11’s. Indeed, whatever the Adena people’s belief in the afterlife, certainly this was their way of getting their loved ones to heaven just a bit quicker.
It felt reverent. Peaceful. I could have taken in the mountain breezes and soaked in the rays of the sun for hours. What a grand piece of history to experience.
Who knew that a giant mound of earth could blow my mind?
The museum was awesome, too. From Ron Hinkle glass, Homer Laughlin china, Marble King, and Pete Ballard fashion dolls—to dioramas of miniature Adena peoples building huts and killing mastodons and replicas of bones & authentic fossils found in the area on which I stood—all of it was not just educational but fascinating.
And of course, purchases from the gift shop were necessary. A blue “Grave Creek Mound” shirt for the Queen with the state of WV proudly displayed on it, a geode for me to crack with a hammer in hopes of finding crystals, and a WV-shaped magnet with “Grave Creek Mound” on it to display on our fridge were placed on the counter and rang up by a fellow Wonder Woman loving West Virginia gal (kindred spirits, yes?) Our first destination didn’t disappoint.
http://www.wvculture.org/museum/GraveCreekmod.html
The Pen
Next stop—across the street to the West Virginia State Penitentiary. Now, I’ve never really been fascinated by prisons, but this place had 3 things going for it. Location (West Virginia—duh,) architecture, and history. We didn’t expect to do the tour since it was 90 minutes long. We did, however, pass between the barbed wire fence and through the heavy doors to visit the now-gift shop.
It was creepy & cool all at the same time. The first thing you see when you go through the door is “Old Sparky,” the electric chair. Nearly 100 prisoners were either electrocuted or hanged here—which brings the creepy factor. This place was built just after the Civil War and is on the National Historic Register—which brings the cool factor.
It opened in 1866 and closed in 1995. In the gift shop, you could see artifacts in glass cases that included a rope that hanged the condemned, a letter from Charles Manson asking to be transferred there, and batons and uniforms of guards to name a few. Huge combo of creepy/cool there, too. (Sidenote: I noticed that while Charles Manson’s handwriting wasn’t terrible, his grammar & spelling were.)
http://www.wvpentours.com/index.htm
Where It All Began
Site number 3—downtown Wheeling, specifically Independence Hall.
Now, this place absolutely filled me with awe. Our home state was born here. We were enthusiastically greeted outside by a tour guide who was full of smiles and information. Upon entering, we met yet another lady who eagerly welcomed us into the historical site. We first went downstairs to watch a 15-minute movie that was a recreation of how it all unfolded. Made in 1977, the movie had that film-y sound even though it was now on DVD. It was just the 7 of us who sat in the dark on the church-like pews, watching on video the way our state came to be. I learned a lot in that quarter of an hour, information I’d never known in my 46 years. I’ll be completely honest here—I got choked up. The loyalty to my home state runs deep, as it does with most West Virginia natives. Seeing how it all came to be caused my roots of loyalty to run even deeper, my pride to swell even more (didn’t think that was even possible,) and my appreciation of West Virginia and our people to heighten.
After the movie, we made our way up to the first, then second, then third floors, relishing all the history and architecture and thankful for the preservation that has taken place. If I lived in Wheeling, this would totally be a place where I’d volunteer.
http://www.wvindependencehallfoundation.org/wvihf/
http://www.wvencyclopedia.org/articles/1068
West Virginia sloth
After a quick lunch, we headed to Oglebay Resort (locals seemed to pronounce it “Oglebee.”) Regardless of pronunciation, it’s beautiful. It was originally owned by a frontiersman named Silas Zane in the late 1700’s. After changing hands a few times, Earl Oglebay purchased it in 1900 and spent 25 years creating the beautiful estate and sparing no expense. He passed away in 1926 and willed it to the people of Wheeling, so long as they used it for the public.
We didn’t spend a lot of time there—just stopped to look at some gardens, have an ice cream, and buy a couple souvenirs. Oglebay Resort showed us a lot of deer, vacationers, flowers, and of course, provided that cleansing mountain breeze that seems to be unique to my home state.
My only regrets are that I wasn’t there at 11:00 to visit the zoo, and that I didn’t bring any closed-toe shoes. Why? I could have had a hands-on experience with a two-toed sloth. Yes. A sloth. My favorite animal ever. I could barely look at the zoo sign when driving by it because I knew that just down the road there was a sloth.
That could have been held.
By me.
http://www.oglebay-resort.com/index.html
Brothers and Near Death Experiences
After this full day, Tim, Robbie & I ventured out on our own and the rest of the crew chilled out at the hotel. The three of us were on the hunt for two things—a spot for me to get night photos of the suspension bridge, and a place to eat. The plan? Find the spot in the daylight. Go eat. Come back after dark. Take photos. Go back to the hotel.
The suspension bridge was awesome. On our way to Wheeling, I said I was eager to go across it. The tour guide at Independence Hall changed my mind, though. When we told her we were going to it, she quickly and emphatically shared that she has been across it once, and never again. A bridge built in 1849 of course didn’t have to pass all the regulations we have today. I quickly changed my mind about crossing it when I learned….
….there’s a weight limit of 2 tons
and
…vehicles must maintain a lengthy distance between them.
Why would they do that if there wasn’t a question about its integrity?
So, I decided I’d remain safely on the shore and take my photos, and cross the large, new, safe bridge that runs parallel to this old, historical, swaying, spooky, scary, unstable one.
Tim, Robbie, & I quickly find a place right by the entrance of the bridge where I’ll be able to set up my tripod and get some long-exposure shots of the bridge & river. Satisfied with the location, I tell Tim we can go on & find an eatery.
I hop in the backseat of his compact car and we pull out. Tim turns left (it’s a one-way street,) then right, then left again. Back toward where we were.
“Um, that road was one way, Tim. We won’t be able to do anything but make another circle.”
He continues on.
Robbie turns and looks at me with an evil grin as Tim drives up to the bridge’s red light (remember what I said about the limits?) There was nowhere to go but across.
My heart sinks, my stomach burns, and doing what all photographers do, I grab my camera. I remove the lens cap and let the two men in the front know that when they find my camera at the bottom of the Ohio River, they’ll see the last photos I ever took. The light turns green. I put the viewfinder up to my eye, and begin screaming, “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE! OH MY GOSH, WE’RE GONNA DIE!”
Click
Click
Click
I continued taking photos through the bird-doody-covered windshield.
The car felt like it was doing mini-fish tails as we rode across the uneven iron surface. My heart pounded. I continued clicking. By golly, if this was my demise, I was going to document it.
We made it to the other side. My hand was too shaky to get a good smack to the back of my brother’s head, so instead, I called him a jerk—then thanked him. I knew, once I uploaded photos when I got home, I would have said, “Man, I wish I’d gone across that bridge!” Tim said he struggled with his decision to deceive me, buy my sweet husband convinced him it would be okay. (I’ll smack him later.)
We make our way to the Centre Market. Though still daylight, all the businesses were closed except for 2 eateries—“Later Gator” and “Vocelli’s”. We decided to keep looking, made a circle around the Centre Market, and on our way out, passed the local fire department guys outside on the street playing stickball. Next door to the station was a group of college-aged looking kids sitting on the stairs of what once was a church, but the sign outside read “Towngate Cinema,” so apparently it is now a theater.
As we passed, I said, “I wish I could’ve gotten some photos.” Without giving it thought, Tim turned the car around, and that’s what I did. I snapped photos of the firemen (with their permission, of course!) and while I did, my brother chatted with the young folks next door. Conveniently, they recommended Vocelli’s as a great place to eat. Locals always know, so we took their advice.
And they weren’t wrong.
We went inside the small restaurant & ordered, then went outside to dine al fresco. I had a salad, Robbie had a turkey club, Tim had cheese pizza & salad, and of course, Robbie & I had to get pepperoni rolls since we were in West Virginia (Tim had garlic rolls—he’s vegetarian—and he said they were awesome, too.) The pepperoni rolls were absolutely the best I’d ever had in my life. Ever.
With our bellies full and the sun down, we headed to the suspension bridge so I could get nighttime photos. What an awesome end to an awesome day.
Sweet Bessie & Some Peacocks
The next day we left about 10:00 a.m. and headed to The Palace of Gold at New Vrindaban, about 45 minutes from the hotel. The grounds were covered in ornate buildings, two temples, thousands of flowers, a lotus pond, cabins, a vegan Indian restaurant, a gift shop, and a lake. Because of the Krishna’s view of cows, they’re protected (read: tame) and cared for until they die. I was able to do something I’ve always wanted to do—pet a cow. And I did! They were so clean and soft, and they ate grass right out of our hands. Peacocks and a peahen (maybe there were more, but I saw only one,) roamed the grounds by the lake, and bullfrogs were evidenced only by their croaking. The visit was tranquil, and the scenery, of course, breathtakingly beautiful.
http://palaceofgold.com/index.html
We headed south to Morgantown and stopped at Chili’s for dinner. From there, we parted ways—my brother & aunt went back to Northern Virginia and the rest of us to Southwest Virginia. We all agreed we needed another few days to take in the sights of Wheeling & the surrounding area, to show some love to the northern panhandle we’d all but neglected. The area is rich in history. Beautiful in scenery. Full of hospitality. And a sloth lives there.
I will definitely be back.
Love the photos, and the explanation of the points of interest. Looking forward to the rest of the story.
Thank you, Nancy!