When you see the pistol that was used to kill him and the suit he was wearing at the time it is brought home that history is preserved in this place.
When we arrived there was already a crowd gathering to enter. It was rather interesting as we came into the foyer people became more hushed and observant, as if even the younger people knew instinctively this was a reverent atmosphere.
Across the street in the small building next to the white Lincoln Museum is the place that Lincoln died. He was carried across the street and placed in the bed that he was to die in. Very strange but the historical imprint on this location was profound.
You can see the line waiting to enter this place.
Yes it is me and John Wilkes Booth. He never flinched when I elbowed him. He was a famous local actor so when he came into the theatre that night there was no one who would question his actions. He walked right up to the door of the box and was welcomed into the room.
I could have spent much more time there.
|He was shot here|
|He died here|
Then it was time to leave and my the view out the window of the airplane as I left Minneapolis for Minot was this