Jamestown

“Lucy, I’m home!”

Lucille Ball was born in Jamestown; turn a corner and her picture peeks out at you from a window or look up and she is laughing down at you from a banner flying over a storefront. At the main gift shop, a flyer is available, giving directions to the house where she was born, another house where she spent most of her childhood, the cemetery where she is buried, and a listing of all the stores carrying Lucy collectibles. It was fun to browse, and I picked up an item or two for future use.

We had passed the gift shop during our morning walk. We followed Main Street across the river and up a hill, turning at a gracious Italianate mansion to go uphill away from the town. We walked through an older neighborhood I remembered from a previous tour, with Dutch Colonials and American Foursquares scattered between the Italianates and Victorians. Many of the roads were still brick, reminding me of the neighborhoods around my grandmother’s house. We walked far enough we managed to walk out of Jamestown.

On the way back we stopped for breakfast at a Tim Horton’s, a Canadian chain with coffee, donuts, bagels, and other assorted pastries and breakfast goods. After a quick stop at CVS, we visited the Lucy gift shop before going back to the hotel.

Several band members brought folding bikes on the road this year. We often have one or two along for the ride, but five folding bikes are traveling under the bus this tour. Jeff, Liz, Tracy and Ellen rode out to Chautaqua, a great way to spend a travel free day, even with the high temperatures. Scott went riding with a local bike club.

We were made welcome at the concert site with bottled water chilling in coolers, and trays of treats awaiting us in the dressing areas. The men were also greeted in their dressing area by Julius Squeezer, the very large snake living in the science classroom. The stage wasn’t large, but easily twenty degrees cooler than the night before. I spent the first half of the concert with a little breeze playing games, turning my pages for me.

While the stage was tight, the audience was enthusiastic, giving both Chris and Sara standing ovations. Chris never holds back on his solos, and I watched the two small boys in the front row cover their ears with their hands, kick their heels, and grin with delight during the drum set solo. We knew this crowd wouldn’t settle for anything less than an encore, so it was no surprise when Colonel Colburn gave the signal. The band packed swiftly, some walking back to the hotel, others riding the bus, already planning ahead for a Sunday en route concert.