I love Memphis still, but it’s so hot here. Thank goodness there are so many air conditioned places to rest. We started by driving by Graceland, which is actually just a couple miles from our hotel. We didn’t take the tour because we had other important sights to see today. Instead, we went to our Gibson Guitar Factory tour, which was fascinating. We weren’t allowed to take any pictures in the actual factory where everything is made, but we did get to play with the guitars (and ukulele) in the factory shop.

Anders made quite the impression on the woman who gave the tours (who is also a scraper in the factory), so she pulled down the Lucille for him to play: This was an amazing start to the day.

We walked from the Gibson factory over to Gus’s World Famous Fried Chicken. It came highly recommended by friends, but it was PACKED when we got there. The boys kind of wanted to leave, but I convinced them to stay and it was definitely worth it. I have never had fried chicken like that before. Words cannot describe it adequately. I guess I finally understand why people love it.

Our next stop was the Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel:

I’m still processing all my thoughts and feelings from this experience – for those who don’t know, this is the motel where Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated. The museum takes the visitor through the major events of the Civil Rights movement, complete with video, audio, artifacts, and the actual rooms and balcony where King spent his final days and hours. Needless to say, the visit was emotional; I cried a number of times. Some parts were difficult to explain to my daughter, who asked things like “why did the bus get burned?” She took a lot of pictures with her little camera; I’ll try to share some when we get back and upload them to the computer.

It felt disrespectful to take many pictures myself, but here are a couple:

The most jarring part was definitely standing up in the hotel rooms and by the balcony, then crossing the street and standing in the space where James Earl Ray shot from. The museum also has the evidence from the trial, including the rifle and the bullet. I wasn’t expecting that.

Something about the real artifacts is so much more powerful than a duplication, even if the copy is good. I felt the same way seeing the blood on Civil War flags at the Smithsonian in Washington DC and the shoes at the Holocaust museum – a sinking realization in the gut, visceral reality. We can know the history in our minds, we can see it in pictures and read about it, but being present is different, being present is understanding it in a different way. I hope my kids felt that.