Where would we be without peanut butter? Who doesn't love a handful of peanuts on occasion?  Did you know that 50% of American peanuts we enjoy so much are harvested within a 100-mile radius of the City of Dothan?  Dothan claims to be the 'Peanut Capital of the World'.  ​

Entering Dothan, it is little obvious they are super confident in their claim holding an annual National Peanut Festival - a little nutty?  Well, it does attract over 200,000!  As you drive through the streets, huge child-size peanuts are waving to you.  ​

There are over 40 of these fun shell people to find.  Go to the visitor center to get a map so you can get the full 'spread' of their locations.  Each one has its own unique personality.  The entire morning, I am driving up and down streets, through alleys, and into parking lots as I just can't get enough of these 'shelled' characters.  ​

The story goes like this - In 1889, the city tried to impose a tax on commercial carts.  The locals went to the streets and a huge riot broke out on Main Street (exact spot of this mural).  Marshall Toby was one of the instigators.  Many folks today say the ghost of Marshall Tucker still patrols the streets, late evenings, trying to keep them safe. ​

I grab a red plastic tray and get in line at the school-like cafeteria style buffet.  My meat - easy - fried chicken, of course.  My 3 sides, well that gets a bit more complicated with so many southern options.  I am told by multiple staff members to get the cabbage and mac n' cheese.  I stop at the desserts and smile spotting banana bread pudding.  ​

A little further down the same road, if you look carefully, you will find four monstrous dinosaurs lurking in the woods. ​

My curiosity puts me back on Fish Trap Road wondering what else will I find.  As the road ends at the marina, I spot more oddities.  A huge 20-foot metal spider, sculptured seahorses and abandoned knights within the unattended gardens.  A huge, dry water fountain of mystical gods, surrounded by untamed creatures, sits in the middle of a roundabout.  This adventure is turning out to be a ton of fun finding the unexpected in unexpected areas.  ​

 I had no idea - Alabama's number one fruit production is 5,700 tons (yes, tons) of the delicious peaches annually.  Chilton County grows 65% of those peaches.  As I travel south on the interstate 65, towards Montgomery, I cannot help to notice a huge peach in the skies.  The popularity of the county began in 1947.  That year they had a bumper crop.  So, to bring optimism to the local folk the first Annual Peach Festival began.  ​

A day for so many to remember and a day I hope to remember.  This morning I am traveling about 50 miles east to Selma, Alabama for an annual event.  I find myself reflecting on a conversation from yesterday. I met a woman, in front of the Alabama State Capital, who shared with me the significance of this event - Bloody Sunday. She is the one who brings me on this journey today.

As I approach the bridge, there are state troopers and secret service people everywhere.  The street in front of the bridge is lined up with hundreds of spectators of all ages.  There are a few large charter buses with students from various black colleges who are wearing the same-colored tee-shirts.  I pull out my E-bike believing I will have more mobility than being on foot.  As I join the others along this road, I meet several people eagerly wanting to share their reason for being here.  During my wait I learn more about this event in our history.  A 25-year-old black activist, John Lewis, led 600 individuals across the Edmond Pettus Bridge on their way to the state capital (54 miles).  This march was to bring attention to the state denying blacks the right to vote.   On the other side, lines of white state troopers were waiting.  The individuals refused to turn back around.  They were brutally attacked placing many in the hospital.  The footage hit the national news and caused national outcry.  Today marks the 57th year anniversary which is remembered as, "Bloody Sunday".  ​

As the thousands begin crossing the bridge, I make the decision to no longer be a spectator but a participant.  I climb on my bike and join them.  My adrenaline peaks and a huge smile light up my face.  I think to myself, "Today is going to be a day I will always remember."  ​

As I pay my $5 admission fee, I comment, "It is so awesome you make this museum affordable for everyone." The attendee smiles, "That is the whole point. Anyone and everyone can learn about this part of our history barely taught in our country." I walk on the small trolley bus, which travels several blocks before arriving at the entrance of the National Memorial for Peace and Justice. There are several groups of elementary age school children in the front actively participating in conversations with their tour guide. Walking past them, I enter, only to stop immediately at what is in front of me.

I slowly circle around this display of slavery, intently looking at the anguished expressions on each face and the actions of each individual. On the other side of the walkway are narratives detailing the origins, history and brutal attempts of trying to end slavery in our country. Many emotions ignite within me as I try to take all of this in this morning. I walk up the winding path and enter the outdoor arena. I stand in the midst of over 800 6-foot hanging from the ceilings. Endless rows surround me from all angles. I look closer at each, seeing many names and some listed “Unknown” with a date underneath.

As I return to the Legacy Museum on the same trolley bus, I am trying to process it all.  The next two hours I am moving from room to room full of 100's of beautiful pieces of art, news clippings and actual photos sharing the history of blacks in our country.  Many rooms offer cutting edge technology where one can engage in holographic conversations with actual descendants of slaves.  The room which affected me the most houses over 800 jars of soil gathered at lynching locations throughout our country.  I end my day short as I am emotionally exhausted with this experience today.  This is a day I will always remember.

(By the way, there are no photos of the Legacy Museum as no cameras were allowed.)

Right across the street from the State Capital. is a most beautiful old church built in 1877.  In 1954, a young 26-year-old black man, named Martin Luther King Jr, became the Baptist Minister.  One year later, his life begins to change dramatically.  

Rosa Parks was recently arrested for refusing to move from a bus seat so a white man would no longer need to stand in the aisle.  Martin Luther King, Jr offers a group of organizers for a bus boycott to meet in the basement of his church. Soon after, he becomes the driving force of the bus boycott pushing him into national attention.

Ten years later, 25,000 individuals stand at the State Capital's stairs located across the street from the church.  In front of the mass stands Martin Luther King, Jr, with a petition in his hand trying to secure the right for blacks to be able to vote.  The petition was intended for the current governor at the time, George Wallace.

As I travel throughout the city, there are murals, monuments and streets named remembering and honoring the impact this young man made during the Civil Rights era in our history.  

I return back to the State Capital late afternoon as I want to have some time for reflection.  As I am standing in front of the Baptist church, an older black woman approaches me with a smile and simple words, "Where are you from?"  Her warm smile and simple question lead us into an almost one-hour conversation about her 60+ years of living in this city. As we close, she informs me of an annual march which will be occurring in front of these State Capital stairs this weekend.  This march is the anniversary of the same march Martin Luther King, Jr led here 57 years ago.  In that instant, I make the decision to extend my stay in Montgomery so I may be part of this historical event.  As I walk back to my car, I realize today will is a historical day for me.  A day I will always remember from this epic journey I started almost 2 years ago.

My heart begins racing as I approach each state capital during this epic journey, as always. It provides me a strong feeling of accomplishment knowing I am in the midst of adventuring another state. As I approach Alabama's capital, that anticipated heart rate increase does not fail me. Oh, I love the rush!

I park in front of a beautiful white mansion, located across the street from the Capital building, having no idea of the significance. Within seconds inside, an elderly host informs me I am standing in the foyer of the first Confederate President Jefferson Davis' home. I enthusiastically reply, "I took an elevator to the top of the Jefferson Davis monument stretching 351 feet in the air located in Kentucky. I have also visited the beautiful Presidential Library in Mississippi.” My host smiles ear to ear, "Well, there you go!" We both continue conversing enthusiastically for the next twenty minutes or so. I take all which he shared with me and briskly walk across the street. I stand at the bottom steps of the State Capital.

Step by step I climb the marble stairs to the top entering through the massive wooden doors. I make a quick inquiry to security asking for directions to a specific plaque I recently learned about.

I find myself standing right at the spot where it all happened. I slowly read the plaque in front of me - "In this hall the ordinance of secession which withdrew Alabama from the sovereign states was passed on January 11, 1861". On this date and in this exact location, Alabama pulled away from the Union, joining five other states in defiance to the recent election of President Lincoln. The beginning of so much more, for many, many years to come began right here.

I quickly exit, moving back down the stairs.  I begin searching for a certain something stepping down one step at a time, scanning from corner to corner.  Oh, the adrenaline rush hits again as I pinpoint it.  A six-pointed brass star is embedded in the marble.  This is the exact spot Jefferson Davis publicly accepted the position of the first and only President of the Confederate States on February 18, 1861.  I look out to the street directly in front of this historic spot where our history changed dramatically. I sit on the marble step for a moment as I ponder on how the attendees were feeling in that moment - excited, worried, optimistic?  I believe not one of them had any real idea of the impact of this historic day on our nation for the years to come.

One hundred four years later Martin Luther King Jr and 25,000 people marched to the front of these exact steps protesting the denial of voting rights to blacks. Story to follow soon.

It was a cold winter early evening in the capital city of Montgomery.  Rosa just finished a full day at work. As the public bus approached, she dug through her purse to find the fare.  She entered the front of the bus only to pay.  She exited the bus to re-enter at the back like rest of the blacks.  She sat down directly behind the white taped line separating the blacks from the whites.  The bus filled to capacity, leaving one white man without a seat.  The bus driver literally moved the white taped line back a few rows so the white folks would not have to stand.  He then told Rosa and three others to vacate their seats.  Rosa refused.

Rosa Parks was arrested.  “People always say that I didn’t give up my seat because I was tired,” wrote Parks in her autobiography, “but that isn’t true. I was not tired physically… No, the only tired I was, was tired of giving in.”

The NAACP (National Association for the Advancement of Colored People) went quickly into action. Over 35,000 flyers were sent home with black school students asking the parents to boycott riding the public bus on Rosa Parks’ trial date. Thousands walked miles to work that day. After three hundred eighty-one days of boycotting the public buses, the Supreme Court declared segregation on public transportation was unconstitutional. One person, one action, and 40,000 boycotters changed American History. On June 15, 1999, Rosa Parks received the highest award bestowed by the US government - Congressional Gold Medal.
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There is so much more to this story. There is so much more to her life. Learn more through Rosa Parks’ own words in her autobiography writing - Rosa Parks, My Story.

There are several ways to learn about the past.  Almost every town and city offer museums, historical markers and statues. Some of these structures are very well cared for and in public view while others are neglected hiding behind entangled wild vines and located in very isolated areas.​

On the heavy trafficked intersection of Commerce and Tallapoosa Street, in Montgomery, is a very well-maintained bronze statue of Hank Williams. This life--like statue stands in front of the ever-so-popular Historic Riverfront Gateway leading locals and tourists along the river front.  Across from the statue is a small museum honoring his life being one of first megastars of country music.  The museum also boasts about harboring the actual Cadillac Hank died in, at the age of 29, heading towards a venue he was about to perform at for an evening.  

There is another more obscure way of learning history - visiting graveyards. Yes, graveyards. In this graveyard is the burial site of Hank Williams next to his wife. The huge plot is covered by artificial turf, as fans would steal a clot of the real grass originally maintained in the same area. Cemeteries offer a different approach to our history. One can learn more about the individual from the layout, inscriptions and type of tombstone displayed.

Somebody wanted to keep their eye on the City of Montogomery forever! Back about 130 years ago, a casket was placed on top of the Steiner-Lobman building. Dry food sellers, Louis Steiner and Nathan Lobman owned the building. To this day, no one knows which one is overlooking the city. Is it Louis or Nathan? Is it empty? Is there someone else in it? No one knows exactly for sure.

A couple hours away from Montgomery is a typical looking old cemetery on the side of a small two-lane road, The Oakwood Cemetery. The property is quite flat and full of old typical looking tombstones except for one! Nadine Earles passed when she was four years old just a few days before Christmas in 1933. All she talked about was wanting a doll house for Christmas. Her parents had this beautiful dollhouse built over her gravesite. Inside are some of her favorite toys, bedroom furniture, a Christmas tree, her bike and a photo of Nadine. Outside, the yard is manicured regularly. Toys are still being left today in remembrance of Nadine - 88 years later. RIP Nadine.

By the Union train station, in Montgomery, are several emotional driven bronze statues remembering the Alabamians who served in World War I.  There is so much history throughout our cities and town.

As I continue traveling throughout our very enriched country, I find myself craving more and more of its history. I keep my eyes out for a museum visit. I pull over to read historical markers. And yes, I visit graveyards to learn from those who passed. I encourage you to do the same. There is so much out there, and most of the time we just pass it by.