Ned Hector at Red Bank National Park

Years ago I learned about a Revolutionary re-enactor Noah Lewis, who portrayed Black soldier Ned Hector. I heard wonderful things about him, but was not able to connect. At one point I was running an event called Bridge to the American Revolution, or rather I was part of a committee. I suggested hiring him or other re-enactors as a draw. Suffice it to say, by the time I got the okay to contact him, he was already booked. 

Every so often I would see his name associated with an event, but the timing didn't work out.

Until today.

Today Red Bank National Park hosted their annual reenactment of the October 22, 1777 battle that lasted 45 minutes and decimated the Hessian soldiers. Noah gave his presentation an hour before the first battle of the day (yes, in real life, there was only one battle).

It was worth the wait. Noah and I ended up chatting after his talk. He likes to engage his audience, and encourages everyone to play. I was brought up a a proper lady of the time to demonstrate how I would have reacted to his talking directly to me. Noah changes his presentation based on how the audience is reacting. Today he had us eating out of the palms of his hands. The magician who was scheduled after him kept telling him to keep going because we were mesmerized.

Ten to twenty-five percent of George Washington's army were people of color by the end of the war. Washington was only winning about two to three out of every ten battles. He needed them, but he didn't want Black men to carry guns.

"My people were forgotten," explains Ned/Noah, but, "it took all of us coming together to win our independence."

He wove discussions of class in the Colonial era. In those days "white is not a color, it is a class." People we consider "white" today, such as the Irish, were not considered "white" in those days. Wealth and ethnicity matter.

The system of indentured servitude, where people worked for about seven years before being released with a little something to start their lives, was ending and permanent slavery was replacing it. In order for slave owners to accept that system they either had to release Blacks, or change how they viewed them. They opted to change their perception, therefore they were considered barely above cattle, and much below white people.

A person asked "Why were there twice as many African Americans in the British troops than on the American side?" 

Noah was ready to shift his talk in whichever way we wanted it to go. 

George Washington sees Black soldiers as Black men with guns. He won't allow any Blacks to be armed. Realizing he needs them, he allows Free Blacks to have guns. Meanwhile, John Murray, also known as Lord Dunsmore says in Virginia that all slaves who fight will get their freedom. At the time it seemed the British would win, so it was an easy decision.

When the British lose, they mostly keep their promise. They send some to Nova Scotia, offer to take others to Sierra Leone in Africa (where they are not welcome by those already living there), and send some to the sugar cane plantations in the spice islands (a death sentence). 

There were three Black groups of soldiers: the Massachusetts Marbleheads, the Rhode Island Regiment, and troops from Haiti. The Rhode Island Regiment fought at Red Bank, though I did not notice any Black troops reenacting that day. There was some revisionist history that turned the African American troops into "swarmy Frenchmen," a slight the battlefield is trying to change with their new interpretive signs.

Noah gave me a few books to check out, including his biography coming out next month called "Chasing Ned Hector." After the battle we chatted again for a while. I learned about how he came into this sideways when his children were young, much of his bio is on his website. 

Meeting him was worth the wait. 

Some pictures from the battle. My archaeology buddy Dan manned one of the cannons, it seemed to be the one always furthest away and often blocked by other soldiers making photography a challenge.

At the end, the dead just stand up and walk away.

No Kings Protest 2026

I'm tired of protesting.

I'm tired of writing postcards encouraging people to vote.

I'm tired of asking friends and strangers if they have a plan to vote.

I'm tired of writing FB posts encouraging people to vote.

I'm tired of thinking about politics.

I'm tired of hearing the news.

Yes, I keep getting out there. I have lost track of how many protests I have attended. How many postcards I have written. How many political conversations I have had. How many FB posts I have written. 

We are seventeen days out from the midterm elections. The ones we all banked on after hearing the news in November 2024 that Kamala Harris lost.

Today's focus was on encouraging people to vote. The message over I-95 was: VOTE EARLY OCT 24-NOV 1.

I found the following encouraging:

1) No middle fingers or obscenities shouted at us.

2) 300 people turned out on the first blustery day of the year.

3) People in their 20s joined us older people. It is good to see young people getting involved. May they vote!

4) Our mayor joined us to hear what is on our mind.

5) A pop-up group of singers treated us to protest tunes. They moved down the line so everyone had a chance to hear them.

6) We stretched from the front of the Municipal Building to halfway across the I-95 overpass.

I try to have hope that the tide will turn. The 1890s saw the Progressive Era. The 1930s saw the New Deal. The Dark Ages lead to the Renaissance. 

Meanwhile, when I hear about a local protest, I try to make it.

UPDATE: I read 9 million people turned out to 2,500 protests. The biggest event to date.

Pictures from today:

Backyard Archaeology

When we decided to add a screened in porch to our house I'll admit one of my first thoughts was "Cool! Backyard Archaeology!" When the men arrived to dig the holes for the posts, I also thought, "Cool! STPs!" Shovel Test Pits, for my non-archaeologically minded friends.

Here are my seven "STPs":

 

They are each 16 inches wide, and three feet deep. The township has approved them for being filled with concrete.

The men hand digging the holes described the soil as rocky, too rocky to use an auger. To them they were just holes. To me, they were glimpses into life below. In the first hole I saw a piece of metal, and part of the sprinkler system the former owners installed and which we do not use. I hope they did not install it as a "selling point," but rather because they enjoyed having a lush, green lawn. Not wanting to damage the post hole, I begrudgingly left the piece of metal.

I then stuck my trowel in each mound of dirt wishing I had borrowed a screen from Newlin, as well as their Monsell charts. If I had realized the dirt would be around untouched for a week, I would have. I thought once we received the approval on Thursday that they would be filled the next day.

I also wish I had a metal detector. I did find two pieces of metal, which I still need to dry brush, as learned at Montpelier and other places. Mostly I found pretty rocks (a particular talent of mine), which I collected in a jar and will wash off and display in the new room.

The plan is for the screened in porch to be completed in seven weeks, six if you consider one week has already passed. We are still waiting for materials which were to be delivered on Friday or Monday. Don and I still have a lot of decisions to make -- many more than I would have thought for a seemingly simple project. Our biggest hold up has been a half-wall vs. full screen. We found a compromise.

We still need to choose ceiling fans, doors, and flooring before choosing patio furniture and other decorations. We opted to do some of the work ourselves to save money, but we don't have a timeline of when we need to paint the railings. 

Meanwhile, life continues.

Mounds of dirt. Various shades of 10YR and 7.5YR. Some very dark. Patches of redder dirt. Claylike with stones ranging from pebbles to large stones. Similar to what life is like digging at Newlin, but without the artifacts. No nails, which is another one of my super powers. I can find nails moments after someone in the know tells me there are no nails. 

Feels like fill. I know until the mid-80s this area was farmland. It has been a housing development since I moved to the area in 1988. It is where Don's family (Ed and Carol) lived before we found our house in January 2000.

After this project, I'd like to put in some bushes. Maybe I'll have better luck with those holes. I might even have a metal detector by then.

Seward Johnson Statues in New Brunswick

I wouldn't describe myself as very knowledgeable about art, but there are a few artists I can identify their works from across the room, or in this case, across the square. Painters such as Andy Warhol, Keith Haring, Norman Rockwell, and Edgar Degas come to mind.

Then there is J. Seward Johnson of the J&J family fortunes, whose statues of ordinary people appear all around the world. 

Don and I were not overly surprised when we stepped out of our car on a rainy night in New Brunswick to discover this statue in a park, after all Johnson and Johnson has a huge presence in the area. 

When we spotted a second statue of a man taking a picture in front of a camera shop, we started to detect a trend.

Across the street we found a third statue, one we had seen in different iterations of old friends laughing and chatting with each other on a park bench.

I started Googling "Seward Johnson New Brunswick" as we stumbled upon a fourth statue, that of a couple standing, appropriately enough given the weather that night, under an umbrella.

The search brought up a press release stating there are six statues in total, and giving their addresses. As we had already found four, and were heading out for some ice cream after seeing an invited dress rehearsal of Kathryn Grody's The Unexpected 3rd at the George Street Playhouse it was an easy decision to look for the last two.

The weather held and we walked a half-mile for ice cream at Thomas Sweets, a smile ice cream chain that originated in Princeton. We have been to all of their locations over the years, including one that used to be in Florida. Their current locations are three in New Jersey: Princeton, Montgomery, and New Brunswick, and one in Washington, DC.  It is surprising this was our first time to the location near Rutgers.

Other Seward Johnson sitings:

2011 Grounds for Sculpture

2014 Grounds for Sculpture Retrospective

2015 New York City

2019 Spring Lake, NJ

2023 Trenton

2023 Hopewell Township, NJ

2023 Lower Makefield Township, PA

2023 Tour of His Atelier

2026 Bordentown, NJ

I know we have spotted his work in other cities, but my quick blog search did not find them. I also know, we will find them again.

Montpelier Excavation Reflections

I've been home now just over a week. I have written 16 posts about the week between here and at PillsburyTravels.blogspot.com. I have one more post after this. too. I use writing as a way to process my feelings.

Would I go again? is the largest question looming. Up until that Friday, my answer was no because I did not want to go on the tours again. Then I learned they have an alumni program with (presumably) more digging and less tours. I also learned about a three-day metal detecting program with Dennis that is catching my interest. Unfortunately this year it is a day after a planned trip and it is not in the cards for 2026. Too bad since this year they are digging around the former blacksmith shop and will find lots of things.

That was my biggest disappointment with the dig. For the leaders it was just another week during their seven to eight month excavation season. Approximately every other week they have people like us helping them, and the other weeks they dig faster without us. If this week didn't turn up anything exciting, there is always next week. Since Ed and Janice are repeat customers, and Percy has already signed up for next week, it does not seem to be a concern for everyone else.

I do get it. I feel the same way when I dig at Newlin. Not every week is going to become a Facebook or blog post.

On the other hand, we paid $1,000 to dig, plus hotels and meals. I dig for free closer to home. I form a community with my local diggers.

The people were lovely. I did not exchange contact information with them and will likely never see them again. I'm waiting for the official Flickr photo link before I send them the pictures I took.

The staff took lovely care of us. They gave us swag (a Marshalltown trowel, matching tee shirts, a group photo, and a mug), and took oodles of pictures of us (which I have not yet seen). They made sure we (or was it the dirt) was well shaded. Indoor plumbing was nearby. We were treated to tours and given the code to come in after hours. We were treated as true members of the team and not as annoyances.

They could not have been nicer.

On the other hand, every tour was nearly double the time allotted on the schedule. Did we ask too many questions? Did they not realize how long these tours last? They felt long, even more so as I typed up my notes for the blog. I would have lost focus completely without my notebook.

Even so, after our graduation ceremony where we received our group photo (silly picture on the flip side), I walked across the street to the train station to learn about its history. There is more to learn about their 2,650 acre property.

I don't regret going, but I am not sure I would recommend it to others. Perhaps if I had appreciated just how much time would be spent on tours (it was on the schedule, but again, each tour was nearly twice as long), I would have gone in with a different mindset.

I would also get my own hotel room. Martha and I are friends, but even friends need some space.