Happy Birthday Mr. Lincoln II
[*if there was a fictional or theoretically possible alternative path for Mr. Lincoln,
would it go something like this?]
Abe woke up in the hotel room, air cool and to his liking, with a freshness that
cleaned his mind.
Ah, for a moment, his sleep so delightfully deep, free from the awake world.
Waking can be stressful, and dreaming he felt a lightness, a rebirth so to speak.
The war was over.
Again and again, would every day left in his life start this way?
His shoulder pinched and he winced as a drop of blood came to the surface.
Another reminder of a miracle, that night, at the Ford Theater.
That night Elizabeth their waitress was bringing drinks and tripped over Abe's feet as the gun was raised
and the trigger was pulled. Abe fell forward and the bullet intended for his head glanced off his shoulder, ripping and tearing flesh and bone.
There had been some time elapse now and healing was marginally successful.
He reminded Mary of that often as she griped at his incapacitation.
He was alive, they were alive, and finally in Vermont as Mary had planned.
Their presidential suite at the Equinox was stunning, comfortable and worth settling into.
He may very well die here. Abe agreed to several speaking engagements in exchange
for permanent residency at the hotel. He and Mary left Illinois and Washington DC
for Vermont to escape all the rat races, the assassins, the political animals.
He sipped the local spring water and nudged Mary.
"It is time to vote."
She smiled and slowly mobilized.
December 18,1880.
Women had gained the right to vote.
Abe was 71, Mary 62.
They were feeling their age, but they proudly walked to the town hall
to vote in this historic election.
And yet there is a story perhaps farther fetched and still possible...
as Abe grew accustomed to local politics in Vermont, he started to notice
that while each voter was free to speak up, very few voters actually did speak up
and some did not vote at all.
As he wanted to level the playing field, he practised with
representing local people in their local town political fights.
Could you imagine how hard that was for local elected officials?
pretend monkton chronicles headlines Christmas 1880
Abe Lincoln is up against you...how dare he...he is representing that uppity town citizen
who used to be quiet...
Abe Lincoln came to the town meeting again last night...says that is not how
they do in Illinois..well maybe we should show him what we do to flatlanders...
Abe Lincoln thinks his wife should vote, well nah nah...
Abe Lincoln believe town meeting antiquated in 1880....
So he thinks if he won the Civil War he can tell us how to run a town meeting?
OK, it did not happen,
Abe was assassinated and never made it to Vermont.
Abe's only child to live to adulthood, a son, lived in Manchester and built a mansion, Hildene.
Now all of Abe Lincoln's descendants are gone.
What if events had turned ever so slightly?
Just speculating on another way it might have happened,
Happy Birthday Mr. Lincoln
[*if there was a fictional or theoretically possible alternative path for Mr. Lincoln,
would it go something like this?]
Abe woke up in the hotel room, air cool and to his liking, with a freshness that
cleaned his mind.
Ah, for a moment, his sleep so delightfully deep, free from the awake world.
Waking can be stressful, and dreaming he felt a lightness, a rebirth so to speak.
The war was over.
Again and again, would every day left in his life start this way?
His shoulder pinched and he winced as a drop of blood came to the surface.
Another reminder of a miracle, that night, at the Ford Theater.
That night Elizabeth their waitress was bringing drinks and tripped over Abe's feet as the gun was raised
and the trigger was pulled. Abe fell forward and the bullet intended for his head glanced off his shoulder, ripping and tearing flesh and bone.
There had been some time elapse now and healing was marginally successful.
He reminded Mary of that often as she griped at his incapacitation.
He was alive, they were alive, and finally in Vermont as Mary had planned.
Their presidential suite at the Equinox was stunning, comfortable and worth settling into.
He may very well die here. Abe agreed to several speaking engagements in exchange
for permanent residency at the hotel. He and Mary left Illinois and Washington DC
for Vermont to escape all the rat races, the assassins, the political animals.
He sipped the local spring water and nudged Mary.
"It is time to vote."
She smiled and slowly mobilized.
December 18,1880.
Women had gained the right to vote.
Abe was 71, Mary 62.
They were feeling their age, but they proudly walked to the town hall
to vote in this historic election.
And yet there is a story perhaps farther fetched and still possible...
as Abe grew accustomed to local politics in Vermont, he started to notice
that while each voter was free to speak up, very few voters actually did speak up
and some did not vote at all.
As he wanted to level the playing field, he practised with
representing local people in their local town political fights.
Could you imagine how hard that was for local elected officials?
pretend monkton chronicles headlines Christmas 1880
Abe Lincoln is up against you...how dare he...he is representing that uppity town citizen
who used to be quiet...
Abe Lincoln came to the town meeting again last night...says that is not how
they do in Illinois..well maybe we should show him what we do to flatlanders...
Abe Lincoln thinks his wife should vote, well nah nah...
Abe Lincoln believe town meeting antiquated in 1880....
So he thinks if he won the Civil War he can tell us how to run a town meeting?
OK, it did not happen,
Abe was assassinated and never made it to Vermont.
Abe's only child to live to adulthood, a son, lived in Manchester and built a mansion, Hildene.
Now all of Abe Lincoln's descendants are gone.
What if events had turned ever so slightly?
Just speculating on another way it might have happened,
Happy Birthday Mr. Lincoln
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