ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Thursday, September 12, 1996 TAG: 9609130002
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C-5 EDITION: METRO
DATELINE: YORKTOWN
SOURCE: Associated Press
From a length of flax, Bill Blair can weave a tale of 18th-century economy. From a handful of rosemary, he can lecture on early American medicine. From a stitch on his knickers, he can discuss Colonial trade and clothing.
Blair, interpretive supervisor at the re-created farm adjacent to the Yorktown Victory Center, uses the land as a classroom to teach visitors the realities of life on a typical 100-to 150-acre Tidewater farm in the late 1700s, immediately after the Revolutionary War.
Except for Christmas and New Year's, the farm is always open. The staff of five or six interpreters - the farm family - has its daily agenda handed to them by Mother Nature. There are no informational signs or exhibits at this living museum; all props come directly from the earth.
``When it rains, we get wet,'' Blair says.
Every morning before the gates open, interpreters till the garden with handmade tools. They fill and rely on water pails when a hose would serve them better. They start fires with flint and stone, chop wood on the stump of a tree. They feed the fowl and check traps for predators - raccoons, fox, cats - that have diminished the bird count from near 80 at the beginning of the summer to two ducks, two chickens, four guineas and a turkey.
``That's farm life,'' Blair says.
As part of the Jamestown-Yorktown Foundation, a state educational agency, the farm's true mission is to enlighten. Staff learn the history of the Revolutionary War before ever stepping foot on the farm, and the training process doesn't stop there. Interpreters are constantly trying to understand, ``How would the farmers of the 18th century have done this?''
Each day brings new challenges, whether from an interpreter's own observations or a visitor's unpredictable inquiry.
``For a good interpreter, it never ends. They're always learning. We are very fortunate to have good historical and curatorial departments,'' Blair says. ``We go to them, they do research and put answers together for us.''
But simply giving answers is hardly the style of Blair's department. As he puts it, he and his colleagues can either teach and bore or teach and entertain. The Army veteran prefers the latter.
``There's more to it than somebody just walking through and showing the old way it was done,'' Blair says. ``We know how everything works. We have to take it a step further.''
What more than 185,000 visitors a year initially see are patches of land filled with rows of string beans, okra, turnips, beets, carrots, cotton, onions, corn, squash and more; a log kitchen with ceramics and with dried fruits and meats hanging from the ceiling; a medicine table with herbs and spices from the garden; fowl running around the grounds; and a tobacco house smelling of the latest cure.
A second look reveals the subtleties through which Blair and company can define the commerce, industry, medicine, clothing and food of an era.
Crops are grown according to entries in monthly journals kept by early farmers in the region. Pottery pieces and kitchen utensils are authentic re-creations of the period. Staff members have been known to travel past numerous potteries or artisan shops in search of someone who can make the proper piece; the copper kettle in the kitchen was made by a man in the hills of West Virginia.
The free-standing kitchen and tobacco houses were built using 18th-century tools and methods based on years of research. Within the next year, visitors will be able to see the main house erected. Interpreters and visitors will help building experts forge and place every nail and hinge, cut and position every log and brick. ``Could we go out and buy some precut 12-foot beams and have them hidden inside the house?'' Blair asks. ``Sure. Is that correct? No. Would people learn anything from us? No.''
LENGTH: Medium: 71 linesby CNB