absent.canadian

The good kids at Schmap found one of my Boston photos on flickr, and asked if they could publish it on their website.  I said “sure!”, and it’s there! If you’re curious, it’s one of the shots of Copps Hill Burial Ground …

I never did finish my story about Boston – and sadly, the day lacking in description was my most enjoyable day in Boston.

So what does this have to do with the Continental Congress?  Boston has everything to do with the inception of this nation, but it’s also been my preoccupation for the last 24 hours.  It’s no secret to my readers that I’m a collector of obsolete currencies, and the particular bill I’m pouring over has all sorts of wonderful connections to Boston.  I’ll try to weave the two together.

Paul Revere is well known the world over for his historic ride; that he engraved the plates for these bills of currency (including the one in my hands) is somewhat less known.  I stumbled (almost literally) upon Paul Revere’s gravesite in the Granary Burying Ground on day 6 of my Boston trip, and was delighted to see that the cemetery hadn’t been turned into Colonial Disneyworld.  To the contrary – it has been left largely as it would have been found two hundred years ago, save for the occasional sign providing concise and helpful information for curious folk.

I did some looking around the web, and only found one authentic piece of Paul Revere silverware for sale, for a sum of money that stumbled well into seven digits.  Collecting colonial currency is certainly a cheaper way to own a small piece of this important Americana.

Without this church, it’s possible that there wouldn’t have been a Continental Congrees to print money.  The same church that Revere’s now-ubiquitous lanterns hung in is open to the public in another amazing display of dignified, honorable preservation.  The gift shop next door is a bit kitschy, but the money to keep these things up has to come from somewhere.

The best descriptions of the printers’ devices on these old currencies comes from no other than Benjamin Franklin.  I was surprised to learn that Franklin was born in Boston.  Sadly, the building he was born in does not exist anymore, but the location on Milk Street is well known.

Lastly, an image of the New England Holocaust Memorial.  Words don’t do this any justice; suffice to say that there’s about six million reasons to stop and think engraved in these glass walls.