Category Archives: BookNotes

Salem: The Enduring Heart of the Great Wagon Road in North Carolina

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Part Three of October on the Road.

The Great Wagon Road carved its way through the colonial American backcountry, drawing settlers southward in an endless tide. Most towns along this vital artery served merely as brief stopping points, but the settlements of North Carolina’s Wachovia Tract – particularly Salem – stood apart as centers of stability, industry, and spiritual purpose. More than a waypoint, Salem became an economic and cultural powerhouse that demonstrated what organized community and skilled craftsmanship could achieve along one of North America’s most important migration routes.

Moravian Vision and the Birth of Wachovia

Salem’s story begins with the Moravian Church, a Protestant denomination rooted in Bohemia and Moravia. Seeking religious freedom and the chance to build self-sufficient communal societies, the Moravians established successful settlements in North America during the mid-18th century. Their colony in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania thrived, and as German-speaking immigrants pushed southward, Moravian leaders recognized an opportunity to expand their mission.

In 1753, after careful exploration, the Moravians purchased nearly 100,000 acres in North Carolina’s backcountry from John Carteret, Earl Granville. They named this fertile land “Wachovia” – a Latinized form of “Wachau,” Count Zinzendorf’s ancestral estate. Zinzendorf served as the Moravian Church’s patron, and this naming choice reflected the deep connection between the church and its benefactor.

The first settlers arrived in November 1753, establishing Bethabara, or “House of Passage.” Though humble in its beginnings, this settlement marked the start of a meticulously planned venture that would transform the region.

Bethabara: Proving the Concept

Bethabara quickly embodied the Moravian commitment to industry and self-reliance. Within years, the settlement operated a gristmill, sawmill, pottery, tannery, and various craft shops. Its location directly on the well-traveled Great Wagon Road proved immediately advantageous. Weary wagoners, farmers needing grain milled, and families requiring repairs or provisions discovered a welcoming and capable community. This early success validated the Moravian vision for Wachovia as a network of interconnected towns, each serving a specific purpose.

Salem: A Planned Community

The Moravians always intended to establish a central town that would serve as the administrative, spiritual, and commercial heart of Wachovia. That vision became reality in 1766 with Salem’s founding. Unlike the haphazard sprawl typical of frontier settlements, Salem emerged from careful planning. Surveyors laid out streets, public squares, and building plots according to a precise master plan. Even the name – derived from the Hebrew word for “peace” – reflected the community’s aspirations.

An Economic Model Unlike Any Other

Salem’s importance to the Great Wagon Road stemmed from its distinctive economic structure. While most frontier towns depended on subsistence farming and basic trade, Salem operated as a “congregation town” where the church oversaw all aspects of life, including economic activity. This central authority enabled a highly specialized, quality-driven economy. Master craftsmen – silversmiths, potters, cabinetmakers, coopers, bakers, and shoemakers – trained to exacting standards and produced goods renowned for their durability and artistry. Travelers on the Wagon Road sought out these products eagerly.

Picture a family traveling for weeks, their wagon axles groaning and supplies running low. 

Approaching Salem, they would encounter orderly brick and timber-frame buildings – a striking contrast to the rough log cabins common elsewhere on the frontier. Here they could purchase finely crafted tools, durable textiles, and fresh bread from the bakery, or have their wagons expertly repaired by skilled wheelwrights. The tavern offered not just lodging but a glimpse into a different way of life, characterized by order, cleanliness, and quiet purpose.

Salem’s economic influence extended beyond immediate transactions. Its robust internal economy created demand for raw materials, fostering trade relationships throughout the region. Its mills processed grain from local farms, while artisans worked with timber, clay, and metals sourced nearby. This interconnectedness made Wachovia a significant economic engine, providing stability and opportunity in an ever-shifting frontier landscape.

A Cultural and Intellectual Beacon

Salem’s role as a cultural center proved equally important. The Moravians valued education highly, establishing schools for boys and girls, including Salem Academy, founded in 1772 and still operating today. Music formed an integral part of Moravian life, and Salem became celebrated for its rich musical tradition – choirs, instrumental ensembles, and regular performances enriched community life. These cultural offerings provided vital counterbalance to frontier hardships and attracted visitors and settlers seeking more than economic opportunity alone.

A Network of Communities

Other Moravian settlements within Wachovia complemented Salem’s role. Bethania, established in 1759, functioned primarily as an agricultural village, supplying Salem with essential foodstuffs. Friedberg, founded in 1770, also focused on farming, with settlers owning their own farms while remaining connected to central Moravian governance. This network of interdependent communities strengthened the entire tract, creating a cohesive and resilient society.

Legacy and Transformation

As the Great Wagon Road continued channeling migration south and west, Salem and the Wachovia Tract evolved. Even after the communal economic system transitioned to private ownership in the 19th century, the legacy of Moravian craftsmanship, education, and community planning endured. The quality of Salem’s goods, the discipline of its people, and the beauty of its architecture left an indelible mark on the region.

A Living Testament

Today, Historic Old Salem stands as a living museum, preserving this unique colonial settlement’s remarkable story. Walking its cobblestone streets, entering its preserved workshops, and admiring its meticulously restored buildings, visitors can almost hear the rumble of wagon wheels and sense the bustling activity that once characterized this vital hub. Salem was never merely a stopping point. It was a testament to vision, skill, and community – the true enduring heart along a path of relentless progress.

Salem’s Part in My #OctoberOnTheRoad Journey

As introduced here, part of my journey is to research my family’s history. One potential branch, of German ancestry, traveled the Great Wagon Road south from Philadelphia, PA to Salisbury, NC. Johannes Nicholas Adam arrived in the colonies in 1727; his son Johannes (John) Adams left Lancaster PA in the early 1750s. His name pops up in various historical records in Salisbury beginning in 1755; among other findings, he was the first European potter in Salisbury. He died in 1762. A son of his soon departed the area, to Kentucky.

Since John Adams was of Lutheran descent, with a German family, he would have been received well in Salem by the Moravians. Though not of the same religion, they had the same language in common. I would like to imagine that Adams and his family were able to rest, restock, and move on down the Great Wagon Road after spending some time in Salem.

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

The Sweet Convergence: How Culture, Cows, and Capital Built Hershey

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Part Two of October on the Road.

In 1903, Milton S. Hershey made a decision that baffled his peers. Against all conventional business wisdom, he chose to build the world’s largest chocolate factory not in a bustling city with ready access to labor and markets, but on a rural patch of Pennsylvania farmland. His contemporaries saw isolation and risk. Hershey saw something else entirely: a centuries-old convergence of cultural values, agricultural resources, and human capital that would transform his audacious gamble into one of America’s most enduring industrial success stories.

The Land That Time Prepared

The story of Hershey, Pennsylvania begins long before Milton Hershey was born. It starts in the 17th and 18th centuries, when waves of German-speaking immigrants – fleeing religious persecution and economic hardship in the war-ravaged Rhineland – arrived in William Penn’s colony seeking religious freedom and fertile land. Between 1727 and 1775, approximately 65,000 Germans landed in Philadelphia, eventually spreading across southeastern Pennsylvania. By 1790, these “Pennsylvania Dutch” (a corruption of “Deutsch,” meaning German) constituted 40 percent of the region’s population.

These weren’t ordinary settlers. Many were religious dissenters – Mennonites, Anabaptists, Lutherans, and Reformed Christians – who brought with them not just their faith but a distinctive approach to life and labor. They had fled regions devastated by the Thirty Years War, where up to 40 percent of the population had perished, and they had escaped inheritance laws that divided family farms into ever-smaller, unsustainable parcels. In America, they found what they had been denied in Europe: abundant land and the opportunity to secure it permanently.

This history shaped everything that followed. The Pennsylvania Germans developed an almost sacred commitment to land stewardship and permanent settlement. Unlike colonists who might exhaust soil and move westward, these farmers painstakingly improved their holdings. Mennonite farmers, in particular, distinguished themselves through relentless soil amendment, meticulously collecting and applying manure when other farmers would simply purchase new land. Their pacifist beliefs meant they relied on intensive family labor rather than hired hands or enslaved workers, fostering self-sufficiency and agricultural innovation.

The result was remarkable. Southeastern Pennsylvania earned the title “breadbasket of America,” its fertile fields yielding abundance through advanced farming techniques and tireless diligence. More importantly for Hershey’s future, these communities were stable, rooted, and deeply resistant to the transient lifestyle common in industrial America. The Pennsylvania Germans had found their promised land, and they weren’t leaving.

From Grain Fields to Dairy Dominance

By the mid-19th century, the region’s agricultural economy was transforming. Lancaster County, initially known for grain and livestock, began specializing in commercial dairy production. This shift was driven by technological advances: improved animal husbandry, factory processing of butter and cheese, condensed milk production, and crucially, refrigerated railroad transportation. The region’s established network of hardworking farmers, combined with historically productive farmland, made it ideal for this emerging dairy industry.

Enter Milton Hershey, born in nearby Derry Township in 1857. After early business failures in Philadelphia and New York, he found success in Lancaster with his caramel company, founded in 1886. The key to his caramels’ popularity was fresh milk – a technique he’d learned while working in Denver. The Lancaster Caramel Company thrived, employing over 1,300 workers and achieving annual revenues exceeding $1 million by the early 1890s.

In 1900, Hershey sold his caramel empire for $1 million – equivalent to tens of millions today. This capital was essential for what came next: his obsession with transforming milk chocolate from an expensive European luxury into an affordable American treat. But this required something unprecedented: a massive, reliable supply of fresh milk, a notoriously perishable commodity.

Hershey developed a proprietary process, slowly boiling milk at low heat in a vacuum with concentrated sugar to create a condensed milk base that blended smoothly with cocoa. This innovation was brilliant, but it demanded proximity to dairy farms. Transportation costs and spoilage could destroy his cost-leadership strategy before it began. He needed to build his factory where the milk was – and where the milk was, in southeastern Pennsylvania, there happened to be something even more valuable: the perfect workforce.

Building Chocolatetown: Infrastructure Meets Ideology

Derry Township in 1903 was hardly an obvious choice for industrial development, but Hershey saw past the surface. The location had a critical advantage: a station on the Philadelphia and Reading Railway, enabling the importation of cocoa beans and sugar from global markets and the distribution of finished products nationwide. To handle local logistics – particularly milk delivery and worker transportation – Hershey sponsored the Hummelstown & Campbellstown Street Railway, which began trolley service in 1904.

But Hershey’s vision extended far beyond a factory. He purchased 200 acres and planned an “ideal twentieth century town,” establishing the Hershey Improvement Company to create a complete community from scratch. His philosophy, which he summarized as “Business Is a Matter of Human Service,” manifested in remarkable ways. The company laid out roads, sidewalks, water, sewer, electric, and gas lines – state-of-the-art infrastructure for the era.

Most strategically, Hershey built attractive, modern homes featuring indoor plumbing and electricity and offered them for purchase to workers. This was genius. By appealing directly to the Pennsylvania German population’s deep cultural commitment to land ownership and permanence, he effectively locked in his workforce for generations. He wasn’t just offering jobs; he was validating centuries-old values.

The town included free public schools, libraries, playgrounds, gymnasiums, and Hersheypark amusement area, opened in 1906. These weren’t mere amenities – they were calculated tools for labor retention, offering a quality of life that typical industrial centers couldn’t match. The approach worked because it aligned perfectly with the cultural environment. Hershey’s emphasis on family values, stability, and education resonated with the traditional, settled population in ways that similar paternalistic ventures elsewhere – like Hershey’s own failed attempt in Cuba – could not replicate.

The company’s control over infrastructure created total economic integration. The factory furnished power for the trolley system; the Improvement Company controlled all utilities. During sales downturns, rather than lay off workers, Hershey paid employees to work on town improvements, reinforcing the stability that attracted the rooted population in the first place.

The Perpetual Machine

In 1909, Milton and his wife Catherine established the Hershey Industrial School for orphaned boys, funded through a trust. Following Catherine’s death in 1915, Milton transferred his entire fortune and company ownership to this trust in 1918. Today, the Hershey Trust Company owns a controlling stake in The Hershey Company and Hershey Entertainment and Resorts, with the Milton Hershey School serving as the economic anchor of the entire ecosystem.

This structure ensures perpetual survival – a fitting legacy for a venture built on the Pennsylvania German value of permanence. Even the school served the paternalistic framework, training students who often entered the factories or related businesses, creating a company-aligned labor stream.

The Lesson of Convergence

The story of Hershey is often told as one man’s visionary achievement, and Milton Hershey certainly possessed extraordinary foresight. But his success came from recognizing and leveraging forces set in motion centuries before his birth. The Pennsylvania Germans had spent generations creating exactly what he needed: a stable, diligent workforce committed to place, and an agricultural infrastructure capable of delivering massive quantities of fresh milk.

Hershey’s $1 million in capital, his technical innovation in milk processing, and his carefully calibrated welfare capitalism were the catalysts, but the fuel had been accumulating since 1683. His peers saw empty farmland; he saw cultural capital that no amount of money could replicate elsewhere. To this day, the vast majority of milk used by The Hershey Company comes from within a 100-mile radius of the original factory.

The transformation of rural Derry Township into “Chocolatetown, U.S.A.” wasn’t just a business decision. It was a masterpiece of historical convergence – a demonstration that industrial success sometimes requires not innovation alone, but the wisdom to recognize where innovation will find the richest soil in which to grow.

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

The Journey of My Adams Family: Three Early Generations on the Path to American Identity

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Life on the road allows you to separate yourself from the comforts of the familiar, meet people you might never encounter otherwise, embrace the process of self-discovery, and return home transformed. Invariably, the rejuvenated sense of life purpose that flows out of the journey comes with the realization that creating purpose is itself a lifelong endeavor.

Rolf Potts, The Vagabond’s Way

Part One of October on the Road.

In the first half of the 18th century, the city of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, stood as the primary entry point for a monumental demographic shift – the mass emigration of German-speaking peoples from the beleaguered territories of the Holy Roman Empire. This was not a trickle, but a flood of humanity, seeking refuge and opportunity under William Penn’s promise of religious liberty and fertile land. The generational journey of the Adam family, originating in the German state of Baden, serves as a powerful microcosm of this vast, complex movement that would ultimately shape the cultural and geographic contours of colonial America, from the Quaker city to the Carolina frontier.

The forces driving this exodus were profound: the incessant warfare and economic devastation plaguing regions like the Palatinate, coupled with religious tensions. For families like that of Johannes Nicholas Adam, born in Eichtersheim, Cannstatt, Baden, in 1695, the New World offered the only viable hope for the future. After marrying Juliana Bernadina Schweikhardt in 1719, Johannes made the life-altering decision to emigrate. Their specific journey illustrates the mid-stream pace of this migration: they arrived in Philadelphia on the ship William and Sarah on September 18, 1727. This single date marks their transition from subjects of the German Empire to newcomers in British Colonial America.

From Philadelphia’s Docks to Lancaster’s Fields

While Philadelphia’s docks offered the initial welcome, the city itself was merely a temporary staging ground. The true goal for the majority of German immigrants was land, a resource that had become increasingly scarce in their homeland. The journey inland from the Delaware River port was arduous, but the reward was the deep, rich topsoil of the rolling countryside to the west. This territory would coalesce into Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.

The “Palatines,” as the immigrants were generically known, quickly established themselves as meticulous and industrious farmers, introducing techniques like crop rotation and the construction of sturdy, stone barns that became the signature of the Pennsylvania German landscape. Johannes Adam’s successful transition from immigrant to landowner is documented in the colonial records: he received a substantial 200-acre land grant in Lancaster County on February 28, 1734. This acquisition was the culmination of the original journey, securing a foundation for the family’s immediate future in agriculture and community building. For the second generation, Lancaster became their homeland, characterized by the use of the Pennsylvania German dialect and the strong social structure centered around Lutheran and German Reformed churches.

The Great Wagon Road and the Southern Push

Within a few short generations, the success and burgeoning population of the Pennsylvania German communities created a new challenge: land saturation. As land prices rose in Lancaster, the younger generations began to look southward, hearing reports of cheaper, equally fertile territory in the interior of the southern colonies. This second, internal migration followed a pivotal colonial thoroughfare known as the Great Wagon Road. This rough-hewn path, also called the Carolina Road or the Philadelphia Wagon Road, originated in Pennsylvania, followed the path of the Great Valley of Virginia, and descended into the backcountry of North and South Carolina.

One of the primary sources to help prepare for my October On the Road has been The Great Wagon Road: From Philadelphia to the South by Parke S. Rouse, Jr. – a historical chronicle of one of the most important and heavily traveled migration routes in colonial America.

The book details the history of the Great Wagon Road, the more than 800-mile artery that began in Philadelphia, passed through Pennsylvania towns like Lancaster and York, and stretched southwest through the Shenandoah Valley into the backcountry of Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, and ultimately Augusta, Georgia.

Rouse emphasizes that the road, which often followed ancient Native American trails, was the primary pathway for the mass settlement of the Southern backcountry in the 18th century. Tens of thousands of European immigrants – most notably Scots-Irish and German (Palatine) settlers noted above – traveled this rugged route from the congested areas of Pennsylvania to find inexpensive farmland and economic opportunity in the South.

The book showcases how this colonial “superhighway” was instrumental in promoting trade, aiding military movements during the French and Indian War and the American Revolution, and establishing the unique culture and communities of the inland Southern colonies. It frames the Great Wagon Road as an essential part of the nation’s formative years and its original immigrant highway.

The Great Wagon Road was the conduit for the (now) Adams family’s next crucial move. In the 1750s, John Adams (son of Johannes Nicholas Adam) left the established prosperity of Lancaster County and made the weeks-long trek south. His destination was the emerging settlement of Salisbury in Rowan County, North Carolina. This region, far from the coastal elite, offered the space and opportunity John sought.

The Conestoga Wagon: Engine of the Southward Migration

The very mechanism that made the multi-generational journey of the German immigrants possible was the Conestoga wagon (see image above), a heavy, durable freight vehicle developed specifically in Lancaster County. Named for the Conestoga Valley where it originated, this “ship of the inland commerce” was perfectly adapted to the rugged colonial roads. Its distinctive curved bed prevented the cargo – the families’ entire worldly possessions, tools, and provisions – from shifting or falling out on steep grades. Pulled by a team of four to six strong horses, the Conestoga wagon became the essential engine of migration, carrying thousands of Pennsylvania German families, including those like the Adams family, down the treacherous, rutted path of the Great Wagon Road. Its development was a crucial innovation that tied the prosperous Pennsylvania German settlements to the newly opening lands of the South.

A Legacy of Skill: From Farm to Pottery Kiln

Upon arriving in Rowan County, John Adams and his son did not merely replicate the agricultural existence of their Lancaster forebears. They carried with them, or quickly established, a vital trade that catered to the nascent frontier economy: pottery. John Adams, who purchased a lot in 1755, is recognized as the first documented potter of European descent in Salisbury. Most pottery was lead-glazed earthenware, and reflects the German earthenware traditions of Central Europe. Salisbury’s pottery tradition is part of North Carolina’s rich ceramic history, influenced by the Quaker community in the Piedmont region, as well as the Moravian settlement in Salem.

This occupational shift highlights the diverse skills German immigrants contributed to the American frontier. While farming provided sustenance, skilled trades like pottery provided essential goods and economic diversification. They utilized the local clays and the knowledge of European glazing and firing techniques to produce necessary stoneware and earthenware, establishing a lineage of artisans. 

My Adams family’s journey – from the Baden homeland to the Philadelphia port, to the agricultural heartland of Lancaster, and finally, to the pioneering industrial craft of Rowan County – perfectly encapsulates a three-part epic of early German immigration. Their story is a powerful testament to the resilience and enduring impact of a people whose search for freedom and better fortune indelibly marked the cultural landscape of the American South.

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

Photo Credits: Philadelphia Water Department, Explore Pennsylvania History

Following the Tracks of History: October on the Road

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As an amateur historian researching the pivotal role of Charlotte and Mecklenburg County, NC, in the American Revolution (see series here), a single historical thread kept pulling me away from all the activities and toward the migration route that made that history possible: The Great Wagon Road. This discovery, with its echoes of countless family journeys, has launched me into an October on the Road – a deeply personal historical pilgrimage that traces the dusty path of colonial pioneers from Pennsylvania south into the Carolinas.

While in reality it was a rough, difficult-to-travel dirt path, it was an 18th-century “superhighway,” a lifeline for tens of thousands of colonial pioneers – predominantly Scots-Irish and German immigrants – who fled the crowded, expensive lands around Philadelphia. In search of cheaper land and new opportunities, they packed their lives into sturdy Conestoga wagons and headed south, opening up the backcountry of Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia to permanent settlement. The Great Wagon Road didn’t just move people; it transplanted cultures, languages, and political ideals, directly setting the stage for the Revolutionary fervor I’ve been researching in North Carolina.

Appropriately, it was a book that inspired my final decision to hit the road!

The Road That Made America: A Modern Pilgrim’s Journey on the Great Wagon Road, is a modern, first-person account following the original path of the Great Wagon Road. James Dodson, whose own ancestors took the road, blends personal narrative with historical research to explore the road’s enduring legacy. The book highlights the strategic importance of the route during major conflicts like the French and Indian War and the American Revolution, and it discusses how the towns along the way became incubators of early American industry. It is a poignant and well-written narrative, and I highly recommend it for readers interested in the early years of America as populations moved away from the east coast into the interior of the country.

From History to Heritage: An Adams Family Mystery

The historical context of the Great Wagon Road has, by sheer coincidence, merged seamlessly with a recently renewed focus on my own Adams family genealogy. Building upon the dedicated work of my niece Amanda, I’ve been pursuing the timeless questions we often ask when thinking of our ancestors: Who were they? Where did they come from? How did they get here?

My “October on the Road” is now a double-barreled journey of discovery: one focused on the road’s strategic historical significance, and the other on solving the enduring mystery of my 2nd great-grandfather, John Washington Adams. The path beyond him is currently fractured into two intriguing, yet conflicting, ancestral branches:

  1. The German Branch: Historical records suggest one line of my ancestors arrived in Philadelphia in the early 1700s from Germany. They spent several generations building a life in Pennsylvania before joining the southern flow on the Great Wagon Road, eventually settling around Salisbury, NC, before finally heading over the mountains into Tennessee. This is the line most directly tied to the wagon road’s main migratory period.
  2. The Puritan Branch: Another set of historical records points to an arrival of Adams ancestors nearly a century earlier, placing my American lineage beginning in 1621 at Plymouth, MA. This branch remained in New England for six generations before a later move to Maryland, and then continuing the westward/southward push toward Tennessee.

This road trip is my chance to travel the ground these families would have walked, to breathe the air of the places they named, and perhaps, to find the subtle geographic clues that can reconcile or confirm one of these diverging family narratives.

The Journey: Following the Faint Tracks

An already-planned fall road trip with Anita now has a consciously revised itinerary, transforming a week in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley into a dedicated pursuit of the Great Wagon Road. Our journey begins where the pioneers did – in the former colonial heartland of Pennsylvania – and will trace the route through West Virginia, Virginia, and into North Carolina.

Northbound Starting Points and Key Stops:

The road’s path is marked by the towns that sprang up to service the steady stream of travelers, and our itinerary will hit the major historical anchors:

  • Pennsylvania: The journey begins at the source, near Philadelphia, before entering major hubs like Lancaster and York, where wagons were outfitted and supplies purchased.
  • Maryland: The route continues through Hagerstown, a key trading hub settled by German immigrants like my potential ancestors.
  • Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley: This days-long segment will immerse us in the heart of the journey. We’ll travel through historic towns like Winchester, Staunton, and Lexington, observing how the fertile land drew in settlers and sustained the immense movement. This region is critical, as it’s where the road begins to fan out – the point where the Wilderness Road branched off towards the Cumberland Gap, and where the main track continued south towards the Carolinas.

The Southern Destination: Old Salem, Salisbury and Charlotte

After the week-long segment depicted above, my “October on the Road” will continue with multiple day trips throughout North Carolina – the destination of one of my Adams family branches.

  • Salisbury: This town is a primary destination, as it was a major terminus for settlers from Pennsylvania and the likely settling point for my German ancestors before they made their final move west to Tennessee. Its growth was directly tied to the lifeblood of the Great Wagon Road.
  • Winston-Salem: We will visit the Moravian Settlements (focusing on Old Salem), which served as a critical, well-organized cultural and economic hub along the road, demonstrating the German religious influence on the southern backcountry.
  • Charlotte: Finally, I’ll arrive home in the region that initiated this journey. Charlotte, and by extension Mecklenburg County, benefited immensely from the road, which facilitated the explosive growth that made it a significant political and economic force by the time of the Revolution – the very history I set out to document.

This October, I won’t just be reading maps and records; I’ll be experiencing the figurative road itself. I’m seeking the resonance between the grand scale of colonial migration and the intimate story of my own family, hoping to see evidence of the Adams name not just on a ledger, but on the very land they crossed. This trip promises to transform the Great Wagon Road from a historical reference into a living, ancestral pathway.

Part of a series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

Celebrating National Peach Day: A Sweet Summer Send-Off

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August 27 marks National Peach Day, a fitting tribute to one of summer’s most beloved fruits as the season begins its graceful descent toward autumn. 

There’s something almost magical about the way a perfectly ripe peach can transport you with its first bite – the way the fuzzy skin gives way to reveal that sunset-colored flesh, dripping with nectar-sweet juice that runs down your chin and demands immediate attention from your napkin or, more likely, your sleeve.

The peach, with its intoxicating fragrance and velvet texture, represents everything we cherish about summer’s fleeting abundance. It’s a fruit that refuses to be rushed, demanding patience as it ripens to that perfect moment of yielding softness, when the gentlest pressure reveals whether it’s ready to deliver its full symphony of flavors. Miss that window, and you’re left with either a hard, disappointing bite or an overripe mess that’s better suited for cobbler than eating out of hand.

A Spectrum of Summer Sweetness

The world of peaches offers an delightful diversity that extends far beyond the classic fuzzy orb most people envision. Freestone peaches, with their easily removable pits, are the darlings of home cooks and snackers alike, while clingstone varieties hold their fruit close to the stone, making them perfect for commercial processing into jams, preserves, and canned goods that let us taste summer long after the frost arrives.

White peaches, with their more delicate, floral notes and lower acidity, offer a refined sweetness that seems almost exotic compared to their more common yellow cousins. Then there are the donut peaches – those flat, saturn-shaped curiosities that pack concentrated peach flavor into their compact form, perfect for lunch boxes and picnic baskets. Nectarines, technically the smooth-skinned siblings of traditional peaches, bring their own intense flavor profile to the party, proving that sometimes less fuzz means more bite.

Each variety tells its own story through color, texture, and taste. From the deep crimson blush of a Red Haven to the pale yellow glow of a Belle of Georgia, peaches paint summer in shades that would make any sunset jealous. The names alone evoke romance and regional pride: Elberta, Carolina Belle, Georgia Jet, Summer Lady – each cultivar carrying the hopes and heritage of the orchards that nurture them.

Georgia: The Peach State Legacy

When most Americans think of peaches, their minds inevitably wander to Georgia, the self-proclaimed “Peach State.” This association runs so deep that Georgia’s license plates proudly display a peach, and the state quarter features the fruit prominently. But the story of how Georgia earned this sweet reputation is more complex and fascinating than many realize.

Georgia’s peach industry actually began in the mid-1800s when farmers discovered that the state’s climate and soil conditions were ideal for growing high-quality peaches. The industry truly flourished after the Civil War, when innovative farmers like Samuel H. Rumph began developing new varieties better suited to the Southern climate. Rumph’s Elberta peach, named after his wife Clara Elberta Moore, became one of the most successful commercial varieties ever developed and helped establish Georgia’s reputation as peach paradise.

The railroad’s expansion in the late 19th century proved crucial to Georgia’s peach dominance, allowing farmers to ship their delicate cargo to Northern markets before it spoiled. Special refrigerated cars carried Georgia peaches to eager customers in New York, Philadelphia, and Boston, where the fruit commanded premium prices and developed a devoted following.

The industry reached its peak in the 1920s when Georgia was indeed the nation’s top peach producer. Towns like Fort Valley became known as the “Peach Capital of Georgia,” with entire communities revolving around the seasonal rhythms of peach cultivation. The sight of endless rows of peach trees in full bloom each spring became an iconic image of the American South, drawing tourists and photographers from across the nation.

Interestingly, while Georgia maintains its peach state identity, California now produces about 75% of America’s peaches, with South Carolina, Georgia, and New Jersey following as distant runners-up. But Georgia’s peaches maintain a reputation for exceptional quality, with many connoisseurs insisting that the state’s traditional varieties and time-honored growing methods produce fruit with superior flavor and texture.

The Fleeting Season’s Sweet Urgency

Part of what makes peaches so precious is their tantalizingly short season. Unlike apples that can be stored for months or oranges available year-round, fresh peaches demand our attention for just a few precious months each summer. This scarcity creates an urgency that makes every peach moment feel special – the rushed trips to farmers markets, the careful selection process of choosing fruit that will ripen just right, the disappointed sighs when the season’s last peaches disappear from market stands.

This brief window of availability has shaped how we think about and consume peaches. They’re intrinsically linked to summer memories: roadside stands with hand-painted signs, the ritual of eating peach cobbler at family reunions, the simple pleasure of biting into a perfectly ripe peach over the kitchen sink while juice runs everywhere. These moments feel so ephemeral precisely because we know they can’t last.

Farewell to the Peach Milkshake

As we celebrate National Peach Day, we must also acknowledge one of summer’s most beloved peach casualties: the seasonal departure of Chick-fil-A’s Peach Milkshake (August 16th this year). For millions of fans, this creamy, peachy confection represents the absolute pinnacle of peach-flavored indulgence. Made with real peaches and the chain’s signature Icedream, the Peach Milkshake manages to capture the essence of summer in a cup, delivering that perfect balance of fruit and cream that makes you want to savor every sip while simultaneously gulping it down before it melts.

The annual ritual of the Peach Milkshake’s arrival and departure has become a cultural touchstone for many Americans. Its late spring debut signals that summer has truly arrived, while its eventual disappearance from menu boards serves as a melancholy reminder that the season is winding down. Social media fills with both celebration posts when it returns and mournful farewells when it goes, creating a nationwide conversation about seasonal treats and the bittersweet nature of limited-time offerings.

The genius of Chick-fil-A’s Peach Milkshake lies in its ability to concentrate the best aspects of fresh peaches – the sweetness, the aroma, the summery satisfaction – into a form that feels both familiar and special. It’s comfort food that tastes like celebration, a treat that manages to be both nostalgic and thoroughly modern.

An interesting fact I learned while on a Backstage Tour at Chick-fil-A’s headquarters: the peaches used in their milkshakes come from Greece. According to a CFA representative, the temperate, sunny summers, avid autumn rains, and cool winters in Northern Greece make the climate perfect for peaches canned at peak freshness by state-of-the-art processors and packaged as diced pieces in syrup, ready for your favorite summer treat next season.

Even after Chick-fil-A’s beloved Peach Milkshake disappears from menus at the end of summer, you don’t have to wait until next year to satisfy your craving. The internet has responded to fans’ devotion with a proliferation of copycat recipes, particularly on Pinterest, where home cooks share their perfected versions that capture that signature peachy sweetness and creamy texture. These recipes typically call for simple, readily available ingredients that you can find at most grocery stores: vanilla ice cream, frozen or canned peaches (with many swearing by the premium Greek peaches available at Costco for their superior flavor), whole milk, and a touch of vanilla extract. Some recipes suggest adding a hint of honey or peach syrup to intensify the fruit flavor, while others incorporate Greek yogurt for extra creaminess. With just a blender and these accessible ingredients, you can recreate this seasonal favorite in your own kitchen year-round, customizing the thickness and sweetness to your personal preference while enjoying the same peachy indulgence that makes the original so special.

Looking Ahead to Next Summer’s Promise

As National Peach Day arrives and summer begins its gradual retreat, we’re already looking ahead to next year’s peach season with eager anticipation. Across Georgia, California, South Carolina, and beyond, peach trees are already setting next year’s fruit, promising another cycle of blossoming hope and summer sweetness. And there is a way to have fresh, you’ve-got-to-eat-them-right-now peaches delivered to your door!

The Peach Truck has revolutionized how fresh, tree-ripened peaches reach consumers across the country, delivering the authentic taste of Georgia and South Carolina orchards directly to neighborhoods nationwide. Founded by a couple who wanted to share the exceptional quality of truly ripe peaches – the kind that are picked at peak ripeness rather than shipped green and hard like most grocery store varieties – the Peach Truck operates on a seasonal schedule that follows the natural peach harvest from May through August. Customers can pre-order online and then pick up their boxes of peaches at designated stops in cities and towns across multiple states, where the distinctive truck arrives loaded with fruit that’s so perfectly ripe it needs to be handled with care and consumed within days of purchase. These peaches arrive with their fuzzy skin intact and flesh so juicy that eating one requires strategic planning to avoid dripping, offering a stark contrast to the firm, often flavorless peaches typically found in supermarkets. The Peach Truck’s delivery model has created a devoted following of customers who eagerly await the annual announcements of delivery schedules, knowing that these premium peaches – with their intense sweetness and aromatic fragrance – represent the gold standard for what a peach should actually taste like.

Whether you source from a local orchard or delivery via The Peach Truck, the beauty of the peach lies not just in its flavor, but in its ability to mark time and create anticipation. Each year’s crop is unique, shaped by weather patterns, rainfall, and countless variables that make every peach season a new adventure. Next summer’s peaches will be growing soon, quietly developing the sweetness that will define another season of farmers market visits, roadside stand discoveries, and perfect peach moments yet to be savored.

Until then, we celebrate today’s peaches and the memories they’ve created, knowing that the promise of next summer’s bounty makes the wait worthwhile. After all, the best things in life – like perfectly ripe peaches – are worth waiting for.

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

Photos: Chick-fil-A, The Peach Truck

The Fiery Legacy: A History of Tabasco Brand Pepper Sauce

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In the sultry marshlands of Louisiana’s Avery Island, a culinary empire was born from a handful of pepper seeds and one man’s relentless pursuit of the perfect hot sauce. The story of Tabasco brand pepper sauce is not merely a tale of commercial success, but a fascinating chronicle of American entrepreneurship, family tradition, and the transformation of a regional condiment into a global phenomenon that has graced tables from New Orleans to Tokyo for more than 150 years.

The Tabasco story begins in the aftermath of the Civil War with Edmund McIlhenny, a Maryland-born banker who had married into the Avery family of Louisiana. When the war devastated the South’s economy, McIlhenny found himself seeking new ways to support his family on Avery Island, the family’s salt-mining property in the Louisiana bayou country. Around 1868, he received a gift that would change culinary history: a handful of capsicum pepper seeds, believed to have originated in Mexico or Central America.

McIlhenny’s background in banking had taught him precision and attention to detail – qualities that would prove invaluable in perfecting his pepper sauce recipe. He began experimenting with the fiery red peppers, crushing them with Avery Island salt, adding vinegar, and aging the mixture in wooden barrels. The humid Louisiana climate provided ideal conditions for fermentation, and after months of patient waiting, McIlhenny had created something extraordinary: a smooth, vinegar-based sauce with a complex heat that built gradually on the palate.

The Birth of a Brand

What set McIlhenny’s creation apart from other pepper sauces of the era was not just its distinctive flavor profile, but his approach to branding and quality control. In 1870, he began selling his sauce commercially, initially calling it “Tabasco” after the Mexican state where he believed the peppers originated. The name itself carried exotic appeal, evoking the mysterious and spicy flavors of distant lands.

McIlhenny’s genius lay in understanding that consistency was key to building customer loyalty. Unlike many condiment makers of his time who varied their recipes based on available ingredients, he insisted on maintaining exact standards. Every bottle had to meet his precise specifications for color, texture, and heat level. This obsession with quality would become the cornerstone of the brand’s enduring success.

The distinctive diamond-shaped label, featuring the word “TABASCO” in bold letters, became one of America’s first recognizable brand identities. McIlhenny even patented his process and trademarked the name, demonstrating remarkable foresight about the importance of intellectual property protection in the emerging industrial economy.

Expansion and Innovation

Following Edmund McIlhenny’s death in 1890, the company passed to his eldest son, John Avery McIlhenny, who proved equally committed to quality while being more ambitious about expansion. Under his leadership, Tabasco sauce began appearing on dining tables across America and beyond. The younger McIlhenny recognized that the sauce’s appeal transcended regional boundaries – its ability to enhance flavors rather than overwhelm them made it versatile enough for diverse culinary traditions.

The company’s growth during the late 19th and early 20th centuries reflected broader changes in American food culture. As the nation became more connected through railroads and telegraph systems, regional specialties could reach national markets. Tabasco rode this wave, establishing distribution networks that would eventually span the globe.

World War I proved a pivotal moment for the brand. American soldiers deployed overseas carried small bottles of Tabasco in their rations, introducing the sauce to European and Asian palates. This military connection would continue through subsequent conflicts, with Tabasco becoming an unofficial ambassador of American flavor around the world.

The Science of Heat

The McIlhenny family’s commitment to their original process has remained remarkably consistent over the decades. The peppers are still grown from seeds descended from Edmund’s original stock, carefully cultivated on Avery Island and selected farms in Central and South America. The three-year aging process in white oak barrels has never been shortened despite modern pressure for faster production methods.

This dedication to traditional methods extends to the company’s approach to pepper selection. Workers still hand-pick peppers at peak ripeness, using a small wooden stick painted the exact shade of red that indicates optimal maturity – a quality control method that dates back to the founder’s era. The peppers are ground with Avery Island salt within hours of harvesting, beginning the fermentation process that creates Tabasco’s distinctive tangy heat.

Cultural Impact and Global Reach

By the mid-20th century, Tabasco had transcended its origins as a regional condiment to become a cultural icon. The sauce appeared in literature, films, and advertisements, often serving as shorthand for American boldness and flavor. Its presence in upscale restaurants alongside humble diners demonstrated its unique ability to cross class and cultural boundaries.

The brand’s international expansion accelerated after World War II, with Tabasco establishing production facilities and distribution networks on multiple continents. Today, the sauce is sold in more than 195 countries and territories, with labels printed in over 20 languages. Yet remarkably, every bottle still contains peppers that can trace their lineage back to Edmund McIlhenny’s original seeds.

Legacy of Family Stewardship

Perhaps most remarkable about the Tabasco story is its continuity of family ownership and management. The McIlhenny Company remains privately held, with leadership passing from generation to generation of the founding family. This continuity has allowed the company to maintain its long-term perspective on quality and brand integrity, resisting pressures that might tempt publicly traded companies to compromise their standards.

The family’s stewardship extends beyond the business to environmental conservation. Avery Island serves as both production facility and wildlife sanctuary, with the company actively protecting the delicate ecosystem of the Louisiana marshlands. This commitment reflects values that extend back to the founder’s respect for the land that made his success possible.

Today, as global food culture continues to evolve and consumers seek ever more intense flavor experiences, Tabasco stands as proof that authenticity and consistency can create enduring value. From Edmund McIlhenny’s first experimental batch to the millions of bottles produced annually today, the brand represents more than just hot sauce – it embodies the American entrepreneurial spirit and the power of staying true to one’s original vision while adapting to a changing world.

McIlhenny’s Gold: A Family’s Pursuit of Excellence

Jeffrey Rothfeder’s McIlhenny’s Gold chronicles how the McIlhenny Company remained a family-run enterprise, preserving Edmund’s original process through generations. Rothfeder highlights the role of Edward Avery McIlhenny, Edmund’s grandson, who expanded pepper cultivation and increased output while preserving the sauce’s artisanal roots.

The company’s leadership – always family – navigated challenges like hurricanes, fluctuating pepper harvests, and the temperamental economics of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Yet the commitment to slow-aging in wooden barrels, precise salinity, and a consistent pepper-to-vinegar ratio remained unwavering. Edward also pioneered packaging innovations, ensuring Tabasco reached national markets – an early sign of global ambitions.

Illustrated History: Visual Context and Marketing

Shane Bernard’s Tabasco: The Illustrated History richly supplements the narrative through visuals: vintage labels, bottle designs, and advertising ephemera that chart the evolution of the brand’s image and identity. Early labels emphasized the McIlhenny name and Louisiana origins, closely tying the product to place and heritage.

Bernard brings to life the shift from bulk wooden containers and cork-sealed bottles to today’s glued, branded bottles with iconic diamond-shaped labels. These visual artifacts underscore how consumers came to recognize and trust the distinct flavor and presentation of Tabasco – a hallmark of domestic and international marketing acumen.

Speculation and Legacy — What Comes Next?

While both works conclude before the present day, they seed future-oriented questions:

  1. Innovation within Tradition: Will the McIlhenny Company introduce new aging vessels (e.g., barrel finishes inspired by spirits) without compromising core flavor?
  2. Sustainability of Peppers: With climate change and agricultural volatility, how will Avery Island pepper cultivation adapt?
  3. Digital-Age Storytelling: Could immersive augmented-reality labels show mash-and-age timelines or vintage postcards?
  4. Retail Disruption: As artisanal hot sauces proliferate online, how does the heritage brand maintain preeminence?

These speculations are grounded in the meticulously documented past – innovative stewardship alongside consistency – that both Bernard and Rothfeder chronicle.

The story of Tabasco is a classic American tale of entrepreneurship and ingenuity. It’s a testament to the power of a simple, high-quality product and the importance of preserving a brand’s heritage. The fiery, tangy sauce that started in a post-war Louisiana kitchen has become a beloved fixture on dinner tables around the world, and its history, like its flavor, is truly unforgettable.

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

The Power of Synoptical Reading: How to Read for Mastery Across Books

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In a world brimming with information, one of the most powerful yet underused reading strategies is synoptical reading. More than a technique, synoptical reading is a discipline of synthesis – of drawing together multiple perspectives on a subject to cultivate depth, clarity, and wisdom. Whether you’re a student, scholar, leader, or lifelong learner, this approach can transform the way you learn, think, and engage with complex ideas.

What Is Synoptical Reading?

Think of synoptical reading as the ultimate book conversation – it’s what happens when you gather multiple authors around the same topic and let them hash it out. Mortimer Adler and Charles Van Doren called this the highest form of reading* in their classic How to Read a Book, and for good reason. Instead of just absorbing what one author tells you, synoptical reading involves collecting different books on the same subject and playing intellectual detective, looking for patterns, contradictions, and those “aha!” moments when seemingly unrelated ideas suddenly click together. It’s like being a moderator at a debate where the participants wrote their arguments decades or even centuries apart. 

You’re not just reading – you’re orchestrating a dialogue between minds, asking tough questions, and building something new from the collision of different perspectives. 

This approach becomes incredibly powerful because it reveals how ideas evolve over time, exposes the blind spots that individual authors might miss, and often leads to insights that none of the original writers could have reached alone. In our current world of endless information streams, synoptical reading is less about consuming more content and more about becoming a thoughtful curator who can weave together the best thinking on complex topics into something genuinely illuminating.

How It Works: An Example from the Guest Experience Field

Let’s say you’re exploring the topic of guest experience – a concept that blends hospitality, emotional connection, intentional design, and cultural insight. A traditional approach might involve reading one well-known book, such as Horst Schulze’s Excellence Wins. But synoptical reading invites a broader, more layered view.

Drawing from the curated titles in The Essential Guest Experience Library, here’s how you might construct a synoptical reading list to explore guest experience from multiple vantage points:

  1. Legacy + Leadership
    Excellence Wins by Horst Schulze (co-founder of The Ritz-Carlton) offers both operational philosophy and personal leadership wisdom. His insistence that “ladies and gentlemen serve ladies and gentlemen” reframes guest experience as a matter of dignity and culture-building.
  2. Disney + Storytelling
    Be Our Guest by the Disney Institute and Theodore Kinni introduces the power of intentional systems, story-driven environments, and on-stage/off-stage discipline in delivering consistent, magical experiences. Disney’s approach models scalability without sacrificing soul.
  3. Design + Empathy
    The Power of Moments by Chip and Dan Heath provides insight into why certain interactions are remembered, shared, and treasured. Their framework – elevation, insight, pride, and connection – shifts guest experience from process to emotionally charged encounter.
  4. Culture + Soul
    Unreasonable Hospitality by Will Guidara tells the story of transforming Eleven Madison Park into the world’s best restaurant – not through food alone, but by making every guest feel seen. Guidara shows how irrational generosity creates unforgettable moments of belonging.
  5. Framework + Execution
    The Experience by Bruce Loeffler (former Disney leader) and Brian Church translates guest experience into a practical framework for leadership teams. It’s ideal for organizations that want to operationalize hospitality while keeping the heart intact.

With this synoptical approach, you start to see how different disciplines – luxury hotels, theme parks, fine dining, and organizational strategy – converge around a shared mission: to create experiences that delight, transform, and endure.

But you’ll also uncover key distinctions. Schulze emphasizes honor and systems; Guidara focuses on emotional generosity and improvisation. The Heath brothers bring psychological insight, while Loeffler provides templates for execution. Disney stands alone in institutionalizing storytelling at scale. Synthesizing these voices allows you to not only appreciate their individual brilliance but also build your own blueprint tailored to your context – whether that’s a nonprofit, church, café, or global brand.

Why Synoptical Reading Matters

In our age of information overload, it’s easy to get lost in isolated data points or become trapped in ideological echo chambers. Synoptical reading offers a structured antidote. Here’s why it’s so powerful:

  • It Develops Intellectual Humility

By reading widely and across viewpoints, you’re less likely to idolize a single author or framework. It teaches you that no one has the full picture – and that’s a good thing. True wisdom lies in nuance.

  • It Cultivates Critical Thinking

Synthesizing multiple arguments requires you to detect assumptions, biases, logical fallacies, and philosophical underpinnings. It sharpens your ability to ask, “Compared to what?” and “Why does this matter?”

  • It Deepens Retention and Understanding

Rather than passively reading and forgetting, synoptical reading demands active comparison. This act of mental wrestling increases comprehension and memory, much like cross-training enhances athletic performance.

  • It Encourages Independent Thought

By creating your own terms of discussion and evaluating authors from a higher level, you stop parroting others and begin forming your own reasoned judgments. You become not just a reader, but a thinker.

  • It Enhances Application and Problem-Solving

Most real-world challenges are not solved by one theory alone. Whether you’re addressing generational shifts in leadership, reimagining guest experiences, or tackling ethical dilemmas, synoptical readers draw from multiple wells.

How to Practice Synoptical Reading

This kind of reading is less about volume and more about intentionality. Here’s a simple framework to start:

  1. Define the Question
    What are you trying to understand? The best synoptical reading starts with a real-life tension or curiosity.
  2. Build a Bibliography
    Choose 3–5 books from different traditions, disciplines, or ideological standpoints. Don’t just read what confirms your bias – include thoughtful dissenters.
  3. Skim First, Then Dive
    Begin by skimming each book for structure, terminology, and core claims. This survey will help you create a shared vocabulary across books.
  4. Take Comparative Notes
    Use a matrix or chart to track how each author defines key terms, frames the problem, and suggests solutions. Note contradictions, insights, and shared themes.
  5. Write a Synthesis
    Summarize your findings. Where do the books align or diverge? What do they miss? What’s your take, and how has it changed?

Final Thought: Reading as Dialogue, Not Consumption

Synoptical reading reimagines books not as static containers of information but as conversation partners. Each author speaks from their vantage point, but you – the reader – host the dialogue, ask the questions, and ultimately offer the conclusion.

In a time when complexity is often flattened into soundbites and certainty is prized over curiosity, synoptical reading revives the art of intellectual hospitality. It invites divergent voices to the table, listens carefully, and offers back something wiser than any single book could contain.

If reading is a feast, synoptical reading is the banquet.

* A NOTE ABOUT WORD USEAGE: Syntopical and synoptical reading are often used interchangeably, but there’s a subtle distinction between the two, though both represent the highest and most demanding level of reading. Both methods involve reading multiple books on the same subject to gain a deep understanding of a topic. However, syntopical reading, as defined by Mortimer Adler is about creating a new perspective on a topic by putting authors in conversation with each other. While synoptical reading is also about comparing texts, it’s a broader term and not as systematic as the syntopical method described by Adler. Both approaches go beyond merely understanding a single book, pushing the reader to create new knowledge and a comprehensive understanding of a topic through rigorous comparison and analysis.

My bias has been to use the “synoptical” as that was the term I was introduced to while in graduate school (syntopical was not in the dictionary, and thus not useable in graduate work), and it has stuck with me since. That being said, the process defined by Adler is closer to what I refer to in this article.

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

Purpose Before Party: Why Every Gathering Needs a Soul

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In a world where we attend more meetings than ever but feel less connected than before, the quality of our gatherings has never mattered more. Whether you’re leading team meetings, hosting dinner parties, or organizing community events, the difference between forgettable and transformative lies not in your budget or your venue, but in your approach. Drawing from Priya Parker’s groundbreaking book The Art of Gathering, today begins a four-part series to equip you with the tools to create gatherings that people don’t just attend – they anticipate, engage with, and remember long after they end. From discovering your gathering’s true purpose to mastering the art of meaningful beginnings and endings, these articles provide a practical roadmap for anyone ready to move beyond logistics and into the deeper work of human connection. Because in an age of endless digital interaction, the gatherings that bring us together in person have the power to remind us what we’re capable of when we’re truly present with one another.

Do you look at your calendar on the weekend, counting the meetings scheduled for the week ahead? Monday’s “team sync,” Wednesday’s “quarterly check-in,” Friday’s “brainstorming session.” Each gathering has a name, a time slot, and a conference room or virtual space booked. Here’s the bigger question: does a reason exist that would make anyone excited to attend?

Sound familiar? In her transformative book The Art of Gathering, Priya Parker argues that most of our gatherings fail not because of poor logistics or bad food, but because they lack what she calls a “specific, disputable, and meaningful purpose.” We’ve become so focused on the mechanics of bringing people together that we’ve forgotten to ask the most important question: Why are we gathering in the first place?

Beyond the Category Trap

When we plan gatherings, we typically start with a category. “It’s a birthday party.” “It’s a team meeting.” “It’s a networking event.” But Parker reveals a crucial insight: categories tell us nothing about purpose. They’re simply formats, empty vessels waiting to be filled with meaning.

Consider two birthday parties. The first celebrates “John turning 40” with cake, presents, and small talk. The second celebrates “John’s courageous decision to leave corporate law and pursue his passion for teaching.” Both are birthday parties, but only the second has a purpose that creates the potential for meaningful connection and conversation.

The difference isn’t just semantic. Purpose shapes everything: who gets invited, how the space is arranged, what activities occur, and most importantly, how people feel when they leave. A gathering without clear purpose is like a ship without a destination – it might stay afloat, but it won’t take anyone anywhere meaningful.

The Purpose Excavation Process

Finding your gathering’s true purpose requires digging deeper than surface-level descriptions. Start with these three questions:

  • What outcome do I want for my participants? Not what you want to happen during the gathering, but what you want people to think, feel, or do differently afterward. Do you want team members to trust each other more? Do you want family members to appreciate shared values? Do you want strangers to form lasting professional connections?
  • What specific challenge or opportunity are we addressing? Every meaningful gathering responds to a moment in time. Perhaps your team is struggling with communication across departments. Maybe your family is dealing with a significant transition. Or your industry is facing unprecedented challenges that require collective problem-solving.
  • What would happen if we didn’t gather? If the answer is “nothing much,” you probably don’t need to gather. But if you can articulate a genuine loss – missed opportunities for connection, unresolved tensions, or unexplored possibilities – you’re on the path to discovering your purpose.

Crafting Your Purpose Statement

Once you’ve excavated your deeper motivation, distill it into a single, specific sentence. Parker’s formula is simple but powerful: “We’re gathering to [specific outcome] so that [broader impact].”

For example, “We’re gathering to share our most valuable lessons from this challenging year so that we can support each other’s growth and resilience going forward.” Or “We’re gathering to collectively envision our team’s role in the company’s next chapter so that we can align our efforts and increase our impact.”

Notice how these statements are specific enough to guide decisions. They suggest who should be invited, what topics should be discussed, and how success should be measured. They’re also disputable – someone could reasonably disagree with the premise or approach, which means they’re meaningful rather than generic.

Testing Your Purpose

A strong purpose should pass three tests. First, it should be specific enough to rule things out. If your purpose could apply to any gathering of its type, it’s too broad. Second, it should be meaningful enough that people would be disappointed if the gathering didn’t achieve it. Third, it should be disputable—not everyone has to agree with it, but everyone should understand what you’re trying to accomplish.

Common purpose pitfalls include being too broad (“to bring people together”), too obvious (“to share information”), or too focused on activities rather than outcomes (“to have fun”). These aren’t purposes; they’re categories or means to an end.

Purpose in Action

When you lead with purpose, everything changes. Suddenly, decisions become easier. Should you invite that person who always dominates conversations? Only if they can contribute to your specific purpose. Should you start with small talk or dive into deeper topics? Let your purpose guide the choice.

A marketing director used this approach to transform her team’s weekly meetings. Instead of “weekly check-in,” she reframed them as “weekly opportunity assessment – where we identify and act on emerging possibilities for customer connection.” The change in framing led to dramatically different conversations, with team members coming prepared to share insights rather than simply report status.

The Transformation Begins

The next time you plan a gathering, resist the urge to jump straight into logistics. Instead, invest time in discovering your deeper purpose. Ask yourself what you really want to create for your participants and why it matters. The venue, food, and activities are just tools to serve that purpose.

When you get the purpose right, everything else follows. Your gatherings transform from obligations into opportunities, from routine into ritual, from forgettable into meaningful. The question isn’t whether you have time to think about purpose – it’s whether you have time not to.

After all, in a world where we’re constantly connected but rarely truly gathered, purpose is what transforms a room full of people into a community with shared meaning. That’s not just good hosting – it’s an act of generosity that our fractured world desperately needs.

Next Week: How to Lead a Gathering Without Controlling

The First Flame of Freedom: The Spirit of 1775 Lives in This Lost Novel of the South

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We’ve come to the conclusion of a 5-part series of books about Mecklenburg County and Charlotte, NC during the years immediately preceding, and carrying through, the American Revolution – roughly 1765-1783. The final book – also the oldest, published in 1940 – is a work of fiction – but one that in my opinion provides an often missing part of understanding history.

Historical fiction serves as a vital bridge between past and present, transforming distant events and forgotten voices into vivid, accessible narratives that resonate with contemporary readers. Through the careful weaving of documented facts with imaginative storytelling, this genre breathes life into history’s dry statistics and dates, allowing us to experience the emotional truths of bygone eras through the eyes of characters who feel authentically human.

More than mere entertainment, historical fiction cultivates empathy by immersing readers in the struggles, triumphs, and daily realities of people from different times and cultures, fostering a deeper understanding of how historical forces shape individual lives. By illuminating the universal themes that connect us across centuries – love, loss, courage, and the pursuit of justice – historical fiction reminds us that while circumstances may change, the fundamental human experience remains remarkably constant, offering both perspective on our present challenges and hope for our shared future.

In Alexandriana, LeGette Blythe crafts a sweeping, nostalgic, and quietly patriotic novel that vividly resurrects colonial North Carolina on the eve of the American Revolution. First published in 1940, Alexandriana is both a regional romance and a work of historical fiction grounded in the lore surrounding Mecklenburg County’s bold – if disputed – claim to be the first American community to declare independence from Britain.

Though largely forgotten in modern literary circles, Blythe’s work deserves fresh attention, not only for its historical significance but for the way it captures a uniquely Southern imagination rooted in land, lineage, and the lingering hope of liberty.

Set in the early 1770s, Alexandriana follows the fictional life of David Barksdale, a spirited young man growing up on the prosperous John McKnitt Alexander plantation near present-day Charlotte. Named “Alexandriana”, the home stands as a symbol of frontier civility and classical refinement in a still-wild land. The novel follows Barksdale’s involvement in many events and battles both preceding and throughout the years of the American Revolution. His persona reflects the emerging tide of revolutionary thought sweeping the Carolina backcountry.

The novel opens in a world still ruled by British custom, Anglican orthodoxy, and class hierarchy. Barksdale is a “bound” boy – a form of apprenticeship. Throughout the years of the novel he grows from a shy boy to an educated young man. His father figure, John McKnitt Alexander, is depicted as the literal center of revolutionary thought in the county – secret meetings with fellow patriots, rumors of rebellion, and, eventually, involvement in what will be known as the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence.

Barksdale’s personal journey mirrors the broader political transformation of the region. He is shown to be sympathetic to the cause of liberty from the outset, influenced by Alexander’s passion, the injustices he witnesses under British rule, and the writings of well-known “revolutionaries” of the time. When war finally breaks out, Alexandriana becomes both a sanctuary and a battleground: a place where love, loss, and loyalty are all tested.

As the revolution accelerates, the novel becomes more dramatic. Skirmishes erupt. Families are torn apart by divided allegiances. Barksdale himself faces danger and heartbreak, from almost being hung as a traitor by English soldiers to escaping capture when lured by a forbidden love. As the novel proceeds, almost every historical figure involved in the battles in and around the Charlotte area are introduced and developed. Signers of the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence, Regulators, English commanders – even a young Andrew Jackson (from nearby Waxhaws) is fleshed out and brought to real life. The novel ends on an bittersweet note: independence is achieved, but at a great personal and communal cost. Alexandriana, both the homestead and the idea it represents, survives – but not without scars. Barksdale, now a young man, leaves his home of many years to marry the young woman introduced in the opening pages and teased throughout as beyond his reach.

LeGette Blythe, a North Carolina native and journalist, imbues Alexandriana with a deep affection for the region and its lore. The novel is richly atmospheric, with rolling descriptions of Carolina pine forests, rustic taverns, and parlor rooms filled with candlelight and the scent of a log fire. Blythe’s prose leans toward the romantic, evoking a wistful tone that matches the novel’s reverence for a lost world.

One of the novel’s most compelling strengths is its ability to humanize history. Rather than simply recount events like the the rumored May 20, 1775 declaration or the Mecklenburg Resolves, Blythe roots these moments in lived experience – arguments around supper tables, furtive whispers in barns, and agonizing decisions between loyalty and conscience. Barksdale’s coming-of-age arc gives readers an intimate view of how revolutions aren’t just fought on battlefields, but also in hearts and homes.

That said, the novel is unapologetically idealistic. Alexandriana itself is portrayed almost as an Eden – lush, orderly, cultured – run by benevolent landowners whose relationships with enslaved people are depicted in overly sentimental, unrealistic terms. As with many works of mid-20th-century Southern fiction, the institution of slavery is conspicuously softened. Though enslaved characters appear in the novel, they are relegated to the margins, rarely given full interior lives or moral agency. This romanticization reflects the blind spots of its time and warrants critical scrutiny by modern readers.

The same can be said for gender. While Barksdale’s two love interests are strong and thoughtful protagonists by the standards of the era, their agency is still circumscribed by patriarchal expectations. Their intellectual awakening is real, but their fates is ultimately tied to romantic and domestic fulfillment. Nevertheless, within these constraints, Blythe offers moments of genuine psychological insight. Barksdale’s internal struggle – between security and self-determination, decorum and defiance – feels authentic and earned.

Blythe’s historical detail is generally accurate, though he takes creative liberties to dramatize local legend. The Mecklenburg Declaration, which remains a subject of historical debate, is treated as fact in the novel. Yet this act of myth-making is part of the novel’s charm. Blythe isn’t trying to write academic history; he’s offering a literary defense of a community’s heroic self-conception. In doing so, he elevates local memory to the level of national meaning.

Alexandriana is a novel deeply rooted in time and place. While some of its portrayals are dated, its core themes – political awakening, the price of conviction, and the tension between tradition and transformation – remain relevant. For readers interested in Southern history, American independence, or the complexities of heritage and identity, Alexandriana offers a compelling, if imperfect, window into the birth of a nation from the Carolina frontier.

Like the homestead at its center, the novel is a blend of beauty and contradiction – elegant yet flawed, stirring yet shadowed. It invites both admiration and critique. And in that, perhaps, lies its enduring value.

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

Note: Header art ©Dan Nance; LeGette Blythe photo  ©Charlotte Mecklenburg Library

Still Buzzing: The Lasting Impact of LeGette Blythe’s “Hornet’s Nest”

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Today is the continuation of a short, 5-part series depicting the events in and around Charlotte and Mecklenburg County, NC preceding and during the American Revolution, specifically focusing on the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence, or MeckDec, from May 20, 1775.

First up was Who’s Your Founding Father, published by David Fleming (2023). Then came The First American Declaration of Independence? by Scott Syfert (2014). Following that was Hornet’s Nest by Jimmy Carter (2003). Today’s article is another Hornet’s Nest – but of an entirely different type than the previous one.

Published in 1961 by the Public Library of Charlotte and Mecklenburg County, Hornet’s Nest: The Story of Charlotte and Mecklenburg County stands as a monumental achievement in regional American history. Co-authored by William LeGette Blythe and Charles Raven Brockmann, this comprehensive chronicle captures the essence of one of North Carolina’s most dynamic regions, earning its place as an enduring reference work despite the passage of more than six decades since its publication.

The book’s title draws from a colorful piece of Revolutionary War history, when British General Cornwallis famously described Charlotte as “a hornet’s nest of rebellion” during the American Revolutionary War. This metaphor perfectly encapsulates the spirit that Blythe and Brockmann capture throughout their narrative – a region characterized by fierce independence, entrepreneurial vigor, and an unwavering commitment to progress that has defined Charlotte and Mecklenburg County from their earliest days to the mid-20th century.

What makes Hornet’s Nest particularly compelling is its dual structure, presenting what the authors describe as “two books within a single cover.” This innovative approach allows readers to experience both the sweeping historical narrative and the intimate human stories that shaped the region’s development. The first book, primarily narrated by LeGette Blythe, provides the chronological backbone of the region’s history, while the second section delves deeper into the cultural, social, and economic forces that transformed a frontier settlement into a major Southern metropolitan area.

A Master Storyteller’s Approach

LeGette Blythe brings exceptional credentials to this project, having established himself as one of North Carolina’s most respected authors and historians. As an ancestor of two of the most prominent families in the story of the MeckDec, his professional craft is tempered by his personal history. Blythe’s previous works, including biographical studies and regional histories, demonstrate his ability to transform historical research into engaging narrative prose. In Hornet’s Nest, Blythe’s storytelling prowess shines as he weaves together complex historical threads into a coherent and compelling account.

The chapters leading up to and including the accounts of the MeckDeck support the declaration’s authenticity, reflecting the local tradition that viewed the May 20, 1775 document as a genuine precursor to the national Declaration of Independence, despite ongoing historical debates about its legitimacy. As you will see in the final article of this series next week, Hornet’s Nest was not Blythe’s first foray into the events surrounding Charlotte and it’s quest for independence in the mid-1700s.

The book excels in its treatment of the area’s founding and early development, tracing the journey from Native American settlements through colonial establishment to the emergence of Charlotte as a significant commercial center. Blythe’s narrative captures the entrepreneurial spirit that characterized the region’s early settlers, many of whom were Scots-Irish immigrants who brought with them a fierce independence and business acumen that would define the area’s character for generations.

While modern historians question whether the May 20th declaration actually existed as claimed, Blythe’s telling captures the undeniable revolutionary fervor that made Mecklenburg County a hotbed of resistance against British rule, embodying the defiant spirit that would define the region’s character throughout the American Revolution.

Comprehensive Coverage and Cultural Insight

One of the book’s greatest strengths lies in its comprehensive scope. Rather than focusing solely on political or economic history, Blythe and Brockmann provide rich coverage of the cultural developments that shaped the region. The authors explore the establishment of educational institutions, the growth of religious communities, the development of arts and literature, and the social dynamics that influenced the area’s evolution.

The book particularly excels in its coverage of Charlotte’s transformation from a small courthouse town to a major financial and commercial center. The authors skillfully document the rise of textile manufacturing, the development of banking institutions, and the growth of transportation networks that positioned Charlotte as a regional hub. Their treatment of these economic developments never loses sight of the human element, consistently connecting industrial growth to the stories of the individuals and families who drove these changes.

Historical Context and Significance

Hornet’s Nest serves as more than just a local history; it provides valuable insights into broader patterns of Southern development and urbanization. The book captures Charlotte and Mecklenburg County at a crucial moment in their history – the early 1960s, when the region stood on the brink of explosive growth that would transform it into one of the Southeast’s major metropolitan areas.

The authors’ treatment of social issues reflects the perspectives and limitations of their era. While the book provides extensive coverage of economic and political development, its treatment of racial relations and social inequality reflects the sensibilities of the early 1960s, before the full impact of the civil rights movement had transformed historical perspectives. Modern readers will note these limitations, but they also provide valuable insight into how history was understood and presented during this pivotal period in American social development.

Literary Merit and Accessibility

Despite its academic foundation, Hornet’s Nest remains highly accessible to general readers. Blythe’s narrative skill ensures that complex historical developments are presented in clear, engaging prose that brings the past to life. The book successfully balances scholarly rigor with storytelling appeal, making it valuable both as a reference work and as an engaging read for anyone interested in Southern history or urban development.

The authors’ use of primary sources and personal accounts adds authenticity and immediacy to their narrative. They skillfully integrate letters, diary entries, newspaper accounts, and oral histories to create a multi-dimensional portrait of the region’s development. This approach helps readers understand not just what happened, but how it felt to live through these transformative periods.

Enduring Value and Limitations

While Hornet’s Nest remains a comprehensive and valuable source for Charlotte and Mecklenburg County history, modern readers should be aware of its limitations. Published in 1961, the book naturally lacks coverage of the dramatic changes that have occurred in the region over the past six decades. The explosive population growth, the transformation into a major banking center, the arrival of major league sports, and the profound social changes that have reshaped the region all lie beyond the book’s scope.

Additionally, contemporary historical scholarship has expanded our understanding of previously marginalized voices and experiences. The book’s treatment of Native American history, African American experiences, and women’s contributions reflects the limitations of historical perspectives available in 1961. These gaps don’t diminish the book’s value but remind readers to supplement it with more recent scholarship that provides a more complete picture of the region’s complex history.

Hornet’s Nest: The Story of Charlotte and Mecklenburg County remains a remarkable achievement in regional American history. LeGette Blythe and Charles Brockmann created a work that successfully captures the spirit and substance of a dynamic region during its formative centuries. While dated in some respects, the book’s fundamental strengths – its comprehensive scope, engaging narrative style, and deep understanding of the forces that shaped the region – ensure its continued relevance for anyone seeking to understand the historical foundations of modern Charlotte and Mecklenberg County.

For historians, genealogists, and anyone interested in Southern urban development, Hornet’s Nest provides an indispensable foundation. It reminds us that behind every modern metropolis lies a rich tapestry of human ambition, struggle, and achievement – and that understanding this past remains essential for comprehending the present and future of this remarkable region.

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

Note: Header art ©Dan Nance