I’m sitting here in my little rented room in James McCune Smith’s hometown of New York City, having spent much of my two weeks here buried in the archives doing more research on his life, or when I had the chance, visiting major sites associated with his life. By the time I leave New York on Thursday, it will have been two weeks. I’m tired but happy, and still have two more days in the archives to go. On McCune Smith’s birthday, I’ll be on the second to the last day of this adventure. Among the many wonderful things I got to do here during his birthday month are: read letters that I’ve never seen from people who knew him; find intriguing clues about his family history; visit the places where he and his loved ones lived and worked and see what they look like now; and place a flower and a stone on his gravestone, under the blooming trees in the beautiful old cemetery where he lies at rest. I can’t wait to see what happens today, on his birthday.
Haha. I love the idea of a professional historian with a terrible head for dates.