Harry Truman's Excellent Adventure - Matthew Algeo [41]
Truman later said he was “impressed with the way the highway over the mountains had been improved from the old blacktop hairpin curves” that he had driven as a senator. If that’s the case, I can’t imagine what traversing the Alleghenies on Highway 40 was like back when Harry was in the Senate, because even today it can be downright scary. The road is twisty, with transmission-killing, ear-popping climbs and hair-raising, brake-burning descents. The car I was driving (my father’s) had just turned a hundred thousand miles back in Ohio, and I felt sorry for having to make it work so hard. It was a far cry from my drive across Illinois, where I could have nodded off at the wheel safely.
I am told there are spectacular views of verdant, tree-covered mountains unfolding under azure skies, but I barely caught a glimpse of any of that, focused as I was on not hurtling off the side of a mountain. It surprised me how precarious the drive was, but U.S. highways are not built to the same standards as interstates, where the maximum grades are generally 6 percent and the minimum design speeds are seventy-five miles per hour in rural areas and fifty-five in mountainous and urban areas.
Near Grantsville, Maryland, I reached the highest point on the old National Road, and the highest point on all of Highway 40 east of the Mississippi: Negro Mountain, elevation 2,827 feet. Local legend has it that the mountain was named after Nemesis, an African American who died fighting for the British in the French and Indian War and was buried on the mountain. The June 10, 1756, Maryland Gazette mentions a “free Negro who was … killed” in a “smart skirmish” with local Indians. (On the same page are “ran away” ads, listing the names and detailed physical descriptions of escaped slaves.) But little else is known about Nemesis.
Rosita Youngblood, a state lawmaker from Philadelphia, wants to change the name of the mountain, which extends into Pennsylvania. Youngblood told the Philadelphia Daily News her granddaughter discovered the name while working on a seventh-grade class project. “My granddaughter said, ‘Grandmom, is this true?’ I said, ‘There’s no such thing as Negro Mountain.’ Then I learned it was true.” Youngblood has introduced a resolution in the Pennsylvania House calling for the formation of a commission to study the issue. “If they decide to call it Nemesis Mountain,” she said, “I’d be happy with that.”
Youngblood’s crusade baffles lawmakers from rural Somerset County, Pennsylvania, where part of the mountain is located. “I never knew ‘negro’ was a bad word until she mentioned it,” said State Representative Bob Bastian.
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7
Frostburg, Maryland,
June 21, 1953
Around twelve-thirty the Trumans pulled into Frostburg, a small coalmining town on the eastern slope of Big Savage Mountain in far western Maryland. Looking for a place to eat, Harry had just turned onto a side street when he saw a man in a suit waving him down. Bemused, he stopped the car. The man was Martin Rothstein, the town doctor. Doc—as everybody in Frostburg called him—approached the Chrysler. He recognized the former president immediately.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Truman,” Doc said a little sheepishly. “But you’re going the wrong way.”
“What do you mean?” Truman said.
“This is a one-way street,” Doc explained, “and you’re going the wrong way.”
Bess leaned across the front seat to the driver’s side window.
“He never listens to me,” she said to Rothstein. “I thought he was making a wrong turn.”
Truman thanked Doc and asked him if there was any place in town open for lunch.
“Yeah,” Doc answered, “there’s one right around the corner. The Princess.” It was Doc’s favorite restaurant. He ate there all the time.
Truman was familiar with the Princess. He