Advent 5

Yesterday Adam and I went on an afternoon adventure to the west. Driving home, he remembered a location he'd seen while doing Census work, an old brick road in a rural area. It's called Ernul Brick Road, near Ernul, NC. We went looking for it as the sun was setting behind the bare trees.

 The road is just the width of your car.

 In some places you can still see the old bricks.
Even more interesting are the granite edges they laid to keep the bricks square and contained. 

 Even portions of the road where the bricks had been covered with asphalt (sadly), the granite edgers were visible still.

I turned around. You can see the railroad track that runs along one side of the brick road. Across the intersection, an old building was once a bustling store or elegant home. This was an important road many years ago.

 We turned first onto the Old Brick Road, which is not the same as Ernul Brick Road.

When Adam did Census work out here, he had to hunt for houses you'd normally miss. He saw many unnoticed portions of rural NC. He says he read the Historical Marker for Ernul Brick Road, but we could not find it yesterday, and I can't find any record of it online. Someday I want to go back and take its picture too.

Ernul Brick Road is a short segment of a longer road from Boston, Mass. to Charleston, SC - the Old Post Road, the first paved (i.e., bricked) road in the country. It used to be part of U.S. highway 17. These roads have been rerouted many times. At some point this tiny bricked stretch of the Old Post Road was left alone, and some of its bricks left in place. How long until it's entirely covered with asphalt?

This link will tell more about the Old Post Road and shows a Historical Marker for it in New Bern. I enjoyed seeing something so old -- 1738 -- that is not protected, not under roof, not charging admission. It's simply a road you can walk on and know you are treading where Americans carried mail, nearly 300 years ago.

What does this have to do with Advent? Nothing, as far as I can tell. Except being there in the dwindling light gave me a sense of wonder that history always does, and a feeling of participating in that history. Isn't that what Advent does as well? We enter those weeks before His birth and walk alongside Mary and Joseph as they make their way to Bethlehem, all the while knowing the hardship they'll face. In both cases, the story remains, brilliant and clear through the centuries. We are all looking for that road.