This was my third time traveling through parts of this itinerary, but our Celebrate America 250 Tour carried a meaning unlike any trip before it.
I attended a private Christian school, and I often tease that most of my history lessons were Bible-based, with perhaps a little less time spent on our Founding Fathers. While there may be some truth to that, I have learned something important during my more than 25 years of traveling with groups: travel opens the door to the kind of history lesson no textbook can provide.
It allows us to stand where history happened. To walk the same paths. To hear the stories. And suddenly, the names, dates, and events we once memorized become real people who made courageous choices.
At Concord, I thought about how many times I had heard the phrases “the shot heard ’round the world” and “the Minutemen.” I knew the words—but standing at the Old North Bridge was different.
Our local historian described the men advancing across that bridge and told us that this was the moment they were no longer simply British colonists. They were becoming Americans.
That statement stayed with me.
Several veterans traveled with us, and as I looked around at their faces, I could only imagine what was going through their minds. They understood sacrifice and service in a way many of us never fully can. In that moment, the distance between 1776 and today seemed to disappear.
History had come to life.
Our journey then took us to New York City, where another lesson was waiting.
When we first met our local guide, several of us quietly made assumptions based on his appearance. We thought he might be someone experiencing homelessness. Instead, he turned out to be our guide—and one of the finest storytellers I have ever had the privilege of hearing.
It was a humbling reminder that we truly cannot judge a book by its cover.
As he led us through the 9/11 Memorial, he shared personal stories of ordinary people who became heroes—young men who helped save the lives of others, some at the cost of their own. He explained that the swamp white oak trees surrounding the memorial were chosen because they are native to the regions of all three 9/11 crash sites: New York City, Arlington, Virginia, and Shanksville, Pennsylvania.
Those trees had been in our pictures all along, but now we knew the story behind them.
Suddenly, they were no longer simply part of the landscape. Each one seemed to carry a face, a family, and a life cut short. What had been a beautiful visual became something sacred. There were tears in our eyes as we stood there and allowed the weight of those stories to settle into our hearts.
Experiences like that followed us through Pennsylvania and into Washington, D.C.
At the Lincoln Memorial, these words from the Gettysburg Address stood out to me:
“The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.”
Those words were written about another time and another sacrifice, but they seemed to speak directly to our journey.
We may forget dates. We may forget details. We may even forget some of the words spoken by our guides. But we will not forget how it felt to stand at Concord’s Old North Bridge, to walk through the 9/11 Memorial, to remember the passengers and crew of Flight 93 in Pennsylvania, or to honor those resting at Arlington National Cemetery.
We will remember what they did.
This trip reminded me once again why travel matters. It takes us beyond what is familiar and comfortable. It challenges our assumptions, changes our perspective and teaches us to see people—and history—with new eyes.
Sometimes we must step beyond the porchlight to understand just how much courage, sacrifice and faith were required to build the life we so easily take for granted.
For 250 years, men and women have stood in the face of fear, uncertainty and unimaginable loss to defend this place we call America. From the farmers who crossed a bridge at Concord to the passengers aboard Flight 93 who fought back on September 11, ordinary people have made extraordinary choices because they believed this country—and the lives of others—were worth protecting.
I returned home with a grateful heart, a deeper appreciation for the sacrifices woven into our nation’s story, and a renewed pride in being an American.
But as meaningful as the destinations have been during my many years of travel, the greatest gift has always been the people. Travelers may leave home as acquaintances, but somewhere along the road—through shared meals, laughter, tears, and unforgettable experiences—they become genuine friends.
Long after the suitcases are unpacked and the photographs begin to fade, those friendships remain.
That is the beauty of traveling beyond the porchlight.
You may leave home expecting to see the world, only to discover that the journey has changed the way you see everything.
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