Having visited three historic homes the previous day, where we were clearly instructed not to touch anything, it came as a shock when our tour guide at the Emerson home asked us to take a seat in the study. I turned to Jessie and in disbelief said, “This must be replica furniture.” To our amazement, however, the guide informed us that the very furniture we were sitting in was authentic furniture Emerson and his family once used. For this reason, the Emerson home was the best historic home we visited.
Once in the master bedroom of the house, the guide removed Emerson’s robes from his closet and handled them, showing us the details of the garment. Because of this informal presentation, it felt as though we were visitors in a home rather than a museum. It seemed as though Emerson himself could return to here and feel right at home.
As we left the home, gathering in a circle in the lawn, we found one more pleasant surprise. A descendent of Emerson, a great, great, great, great, great grandson or some equally distant relation was outside, running about the house doing some handiwork. Like the tourists we are, we snapped tons of pictures of this poor man, amazed that we were seeing an actual relative of Ralph Waldo Emerson.