Community Exists Past, Present, and Future

There we stood by the lilac bushes. The docent said that the body buried beneath them is likely Sarah Shelton’s, but no one is entirely certain. They do know, however, that it is the only body buried on the Scotchtown property. So the likelihood is great. We all agreed that it was a peaceful resting place for the first wife of Patrick Henry. She suffered from depression and perhaps even psychosis. They would restrain her in a basement room shackled to a bed or the wall so she would not hurt herself or her family. She died mere weeks before Patrick Henry would stand in St. John’s Church in Richmond, Virginia and proclaim the words “Give me liberty or give me death!” These words are much more poignant to me than they once were.

“We must fight!" Henry proclaimed. "Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!" Read more.

My wife and I just returned from a trip out east to visit family. We try to come up with a side excursion while we’re out there. This time we visited Scotchtown, and the Hanover Courthouse area. We dined at the Hanover Tavern with my father and his wife, the place that Sarah Sheldon’s parents owned and where she and Patrick lived after their first house burned to the ground and before they moved into Scotchtown. Henry practiced law there and would eventually argue The Parson’s Case in the now historic Hanover Courthouse building.  

We spent a lot of time with Sarah and her family. As we were there, I had the most interesting experience of the juxtaposition of the past and present while exploring the historic Virginia countryside.

We stopped for lunch at the Hanover Café (Get the crabcake sandwich!). The television was on because the owners wanted to keep up with the Royal Wedding coverage. As we were watching the royals gather for a reception, I looked out the window across the street at the Hanover Courthouse and County Clerk’s building. It occurred to me that we’ve not really come all that far in 235 years. I mean, we have but we haven’t. 235 years is really not all that long ago.

The past, it would seem, runs right up along side the present and the future. We cannot escape it. We don’t really live life as a series of clean breaks and succinct departures. We can say, “Give me liberty or give me death!” and then turn on the television and watch the same “oppressive empire” more than two hundred years later with rapt attention as they (We?) marry off the beloved prince to his fairy tale princess. 

The past. G.K. Chesterton wrote is always with us. He wrote that tradition is a “democracy of the dead.” He was a fan of the past, of traditions. In Chicago we like to say that the dead vote. I’m not entirely certain we’re saying the same thing, but the connection made me laugh. We know that the past gets a vote here. We are in community with those who have gone before us, who now walk ahead of us. The past and present are always one.

Patrick Henry would eventually sell his home, Scotchtown, not long after Sarah’s death in 1775 to become the first governor of Virginia and move his family to Williamsburg. Scotchtown, it would seem, was a place of great sadness for him and he kept very few records of his life there. I like to think that she inspired his speech at St. John’s Church. I like think that was her legacy. 

Community, my friends, is an ongoing expression of past, present and future. Chesterton is right. We live in a democracy of the dead, indeed.