Memories of England

Dane has Show-and-Tell tomorrow and for two weeks, he's been planning what he was going to take into school. He wants to show off the button that he got from Buckingham Palace when we were in London 2 Christmases ago.

Since he's spent so much time thinking about it and planning for it, I decided I needed to give it Due Diligence. This morning, I got on the computer and started looking over our pictures of England. I've printed 7 on plain paper as sort of a pictorial diary of the story he plans to tell which is repeated below.

Don had about a week off after Christmas. He worked 7 days a week in England, very long hours each day. He got up early on Sunday morning, went to the 8:00 service at the Parish Church, then walked the 2 or 3 miles into work. Everyone else arrived much earlier than him so he couldn't catch a ride, but he wasn't willing to give up church attendance for this job.

Since he finally had some time off, we decided to see some of England during that time. We felt out time would be best spent going to London, so we booked train tickets for December 27 (the 26th is Boxing Day in England, which is a Holiday, so the trains don't run - the earliest we could book was the 27th), packed our bags, reserved a hotel room, and took off.

Don had done lots of research and booked us on some tours, which turned out to be VERY smart. Walking in London is exhausting, but we could hop off or on any of our tour buses for 2 days at any of the stops, so we were able to ride from place to place, tour, then hop a bus to the next site we wanted to enjoy. The deal he booked even came with tickets for all of us to take a sunset cruise on the Thames.

Cut to the chase. They only do the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham on Tuesdays and Thursdays. So we got there early (or so we thought) on Tuesday. The square in front of Buckingham had thousands upon thousands of people crammed shoulder to shoulder. The sidewalk in front of the Palace was jammed, also. We were only 5 of thousands who had gotten there early. It looked like some people had spent the night.

After sitting across the street for awhile and being chased off a wall (where we put the children in the hopes they could see better) by a Bobby (Policeman in English), we decided to elbow our way into the mass of people on the sidewalk in front of the gates. We found the spectators to be quite sociable. There was an American family from Texas that pulled us up to the fence, then gave us their spots so we could stick the camera through the slats of the iron fence and take pictures. I was worried about losing the children in the crowd and hung onto hands hard.

After the ceremony (during which the band played American Showtunes, which was interesting, but certainly NOT what I expected), the Palace Guards made their way out the front gates of Buckingham, into the street, then down the street, marching and playing. The crowd quickly began to dissipate.

As it thinned, we pushed our way forward, very near the front gates, which were locked. But there were some palace guards still inside and a Police Box just inside the gate, manned by a Bobby, not a Palace Guard, which I thought was VERY curious. Why have Palace Guards if they don't guard the Palace?

There's a railing that comes down from the sides of the gate across the wide sidewalk to mark off the driveway into the Palace. A couple of German women were standing at the railing and motioned to me to bring the children closer. They gave the boys their spots at the railing, which the boys began climbing on. About that time, one of the Palace Guards that was still inside headed for the Police Box. He talked with the Bobby, then they both headed to the gate, the Bobby with a ring of keys in his hand. He unlocked the gate, let the Guard out, then began to relock the gate behind him when he spotted the boys. He began walking towards us. I've got a picture of him, coming right for us. He has the keys in one hand, and the other hand is closed around . . . something. (You can see the railing on the other side of the driveway in the picture.)



He approached Dane (I thought he was going to get after us about climbing on the railing, like the Bobby who had chased us off the Wall) and asked him if he had enjoyed the Show. Dane just sort of looked at him. I prompted him with a polite response. The Bobby chatted for a few minutes, then turned his left hand over in front of Dane. Inside was a shiny, gold button. He told Dane that one of the Guards had lost a button during the Ceremony and asked Dane if he would like to have it. Dane's eyes got big around and he nodded quietly. The policeman snickered and gave it to him.

People immediately began gathering around Dane, oohing and aahing. Many wanted to take pictures. As the crowd closed in, I felt like Charlie in Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (the old one, not the one with Johnny Depp, which I haven't seen) when he finds the last golden ticket and a crowd begins to press in around him. The newspaper seller that Charlie works for yells, "Run home, Charlie. Run!" I grabbed Dane and Daelyn and we got the heck out of there. I was afraid someone would steal his button right out of my hand.

We were so-o-o-o-o thrilled. Out of all the thousands of people who gathered there twice weekly, we were chosen to be given the button. And I doubt Palace Guards pop buttons off their uniforms every day. This was probably something that happened once a year or so. How many people have crowded into Buckingham Square in a year's time? We knew that this was a once in a many million opportunity. It was the highlight of our day.

The next day we continued our tour with a visit to the Tower of London. The Tower of London is still a Palace of the Realm. There are high walls all around the perimeter and many buildings inside the walls. In fact, the entire Corps of Beefeaters live within the Tower of London with their families. In the center of the compound is the White Tower. This is where important political prisoners were once held captive, such as Ann Boelyn and Oliver Cromwell. The Crown Jewels are secured in the Tower of London (which we got to see) and so are suits of armor and weapons of torture and execution used throughout England's history. The boys loved THAT.

Midway through the day, Don and Deanna left me and the boys. Don had bought tickets to take Deanna to see "Wicked", a Broadway Musical which was playing in London. Turns out, the performance that Deanna attended was the final performance with the original Broadway Cast. Beginning with the next performance, the London Cast was taking over. Don wanted to surprise her so we hadn't mentioned any of the plans to her. But I had packed her dressiest clothes and shoes and Don's suit in my backpack. We went into bathrooms and I did Deanna's hair and packed back up the clothes she was wearing for touring. We said goodbye to Daddy and Sissy after making plans to meet up later for dinner, then the boys and I continued our tour.

I really enjoyed talking with the Beefeaters. They're so knowledgeable about EVERYTHING and to become a Beefeater, you have to be a Veteran of a certain number of years in the Queen's Army - I don't remember the number, but I think it's 25 or more. You also must have attained a certain rank. If interested, you go on a waiting list for an interview. There are only a small number of Beefeaters (43 or so, I think) and hundreds of men on the waiting list. You have to wait for one to retire before the next soldier on the list gets the call up.

There was an historical encampment on the grounds of the Tower of London that the boys and I toured. We spoke with the people representing historical figures and wandered around. Then we spotted two Palace Guards walking towards us, two young men. It was surprising to see Palace Guards inside the Tower, which is policed by the Beefeaters, so the boys and I approached them and asked a few questions. While we were talking, I noticed the buttons on one of the guards coats. It was identical to Dane's from the previous day. I got excited and started pointing them out to Dane.

"Look, son," I said. "Just like your button." As I pointed, I moved my finger up the soldiers coat, pointing to each button in turn, until I reached his chest. NO BUTTON.

"Your button's undone," I told him, politely.

"No, not undone," he said. "Lost. I guess I had too much Christmas Dinner."

"You popped a button?" I asked him. And, of course, you can figure out the rest of the story for yourself. HE was the Palace Guard who had lost his button the day before at Buckingham.

What's the line from Casa Blanca? "Of all the ____ joints in all the world . . . " That's exactly how we felt. The probability of being handed a button in the first place was astronomical. But, then, to meet that very guard the next day in a totally different location - chances had to be one in a trillion.

He posed for pictures with my boys, the missing button spot prominently displayed. Dane will never forget this story, neither will the rest of us. It probably was the most memorable part of our 3 months in England.

So, he's chronicling it for his classmates tomorrow. And I'm chronicling it for myself here. I'm getting older, details get fuzzy . . .