Around 10:20 pm on a Friday night my phone rings with a number displaying on my caller ID I never saw. Reluctant to answer and against all the will in my body, curiosity won again. I answered the phone, looks like I landed and a spot for a photo assignment for publication. The assignment was to take photos for the “Three Centuries of African American Soldiers” event at the Old Barracks.
The Old Barracks Museum, also known as Old Barracks, in Trenton, Mercer County, New Jersey, United States, is the only remaining colonial barracks in New Jersey. It is the last of five such barracks authorized by the colonial legislature in 1758 to house soldiers in the French and Indian War. It housed about 300 soldiers at a time.During the American Revolution,George Washington crossed the Delaware River to catch the Hessian garrison by surprise. (-https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Barracks_Museum).
I spend a couple hours at the event taking photos learning about history. Within my first hour there I began to sweat and felt my fever spike above hell. I knew immediately that I was getting sick, what worst is I knew it was the flu. You know it being flu season and all. Earlier that week I laughed at all the free flu shots advertising that was defacing my city. Towards the end of the event, the soldiers loaded up the muskets and rifles, then licked a couple shots in the air. I was on my way to my car before the smoke cleared.
In the bed for the remainder of the weekend on bed rest and near death. I had time to reflect on the event I went to and talking to the actors who portrayed the soldiers. The message was the same, anything you really want doesn’t come easy. Your going have to fight for what want. Remember the ones who came before you. Take a small trip in your mind down a trial to the past.