I’ve written about the netherworld here many times. But this next story is new to me. Either I’ve never paid attention to this story, or have simply missed seeing it, but apparently, our good man Abe isn’t quite finished here.
I’m talking about Abraham Lincoln, the sixteenth President of the United States (1861-1865). The tall fella with the large hat. Of course, he is fondly remembered for his leadership role in preserving the Union during the Civil War. And of course, for rolling out the beginning of the end of slavery in the United States.
Above all, if any president had it, he’s remembered for his high moral character. His dedication to this country and its people. On the sadder end of things, he is also remembered for his untimely death. Killed by those who could not see.
But now, apparently, he is carrying on with his supposed afterlife in the White House.
The stories roll out over many years. Various presidents, first ladies, guests, and members of the White House staff have claimed to have either “seen” Lincoln or “felt his presence.” And he would be sort of hard to miss.
Yes. Lincoln has been haunting the White House.
But let’s back up. I recently saw the “before/after” photo of Lincoln’s face. One taken right before he took office, and the other during the last days he was in office. Holy moly. That man looked like he’d been through the wringer. By the time of his 1864 reelection he had deep, deep lines etched in his face. Not to mention the heavy black circles underlined his eyes.
During his five years as commander in chief, he had slept little and taken no vacations. For comparison’s sake, our current president has spent one out of every three days at his resorts, away from his duties at the White House. Yes, 1/3 of his time on his little holidays. Anyway. Back to our great President Lincoln.
He was so sad about the state of things, about the destruction. So sad, in fact, Lincoln dreamed of his own death. He told his close friend, Ward Hill Lamon, that he dreamt he had been killed by an assassin. And of course we know that on April 14, 1865, President Lincoln was shot by that Southern sympathizer, John Wilkes Booth. Abe was watching Our American Cousin at Ford’s Theater. He died at 7:22 the next morning, April 15, 1865.
Since that time, a lot of people have seen or “felt” him roaming the halls of the White House. Among those are Lady Bird Johnson, Grace Coolidge, the administration of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and on.
When Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands was a guest at the FDR White House, there was a knock on her bedroom door, which woke her up. She thought it might be an important message. So, she got up and opened the door. The top-hatted figure of President Lincoln stood in the hallway. The queen fainted. When she came to she was lying on the floor. But Abe wasn’t there any more. He probably told some joke about his face, and walked away. Either that, or it was Eleanor, pulling one heck of a prank.
Anyway, I bring all this up in good hope. I wonder if someone could get in there and hold a seance, and convince Lincoln to scare the bejeezus out of Trump. Or maybe talk some sense to him. Or. Take him on some Ghost-Of-Christmas-Past-Tour, out to the battlefields of Shiloh, Antietam, and Gettysburg.
Maybe.
Just. Maybe.
Then again. You know things are getting desperate when you start hatching plans which enlist the likes of a ghost.
My hopes are vanishing into thin air.
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“Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that’s what.”
― Salman Rushdie
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“Conscience is no more than the dead speaking to us.”
― Jim Carroll
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How many legs does a dog have if you call his tail a leg? Four. Saying that a tail is a leg doesn’t make it a leg.
— Abraham Lincoln
(Just the guy we need to save the day. Even if he is dead.)
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