This is the story of a trip - not only a trip down I-55, but also a trip into the distant past. I am not talking about Mr. Coleman's college days, but rather the days of the civil war and before. All of our seventh and eighth graders had the good fortune to travel to the heart of the state of Illinois - Springfield, the land of Lincoln - to actually meet Abraham and his family. Mrs. Mary Todd Lincoln was not amused that we intruded on her family and took her husband's valuable time as an opportunity to ham it up. Meanwhile, John Wilkes Booth looked on from a distance the whole time, planning his macabre move.

Long after the Lincoln Museum's novelty had worn thin, hanging around looking cool still seemed to be as fashionable as ever. Four of our thinkers found themselves - where else - lost in thought. Before we left to get back to the hotel, we had just enough time to give thanks for our second amendment rights.

Once back at the hotel, we had just enough energy to sit around in the back of the van, pose for Sports Illustrated, and make a few nice catches while Mr. Coleman was inside making the reservations. We had a relaxing evening which consisted mostly of splashing around in the rather small pool. As bedtime approached (one of the more peculiar mathematical consequences of Einstein's relativity is that the precise moment of "bedtime" varies greatly between kids and adults), Mr. Walsh came back into his room from supervising the swimming activites when - lo and behold - there was a stranger sleeping in his bed. He had no choice but to take a picture as evidence that coffee works wonders most of the time, but sometimes it has unintended side effects. Mr. Coleman learned the hard way that Henry James' short stories do not make a good pillow.

The next morning we got up bright and early (actually, not so bright and early, owing to the hour at which the bright-eyed pupils chose to lay their heads upon the pillow and shut their eyes; if you want to know exactly when they hit the sack, ask them). We had a big day ahead of us, and it started with some schmoozing in the office of a man with a plan, none other than Senator Ira Silverstein He took us to the floor of the senate about twenty seconds before the session started so we had to hurry out; as we were leaving the president emerged and started banging his gavel. We had to observe the next few minutes from the gallery. We were introduced as guests of Senator Silverstein and then we left the chamber, taking a moment to tour the capitol, low, middle, and high. Then, owing to our high-up position in state politics, we had the unique privilege of a private tour of Governor Blagojevich's digs which included the obligatory acting like Governor Blagojevich for a few minutes.

This cool tour was followed by a trip to the Dana-Thomas House which was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright for a wealthy entertainer. It was impressive, to say the least. some students, though, were indifferent. After the tour everyone's feet were tired and there was some confusion as to why everyone was so beat. It had something to do with the students' ghastly bedtime hour. A small dispute erupted as to who made which noise when (the teachers politely declined to take part) and the group quickly polarized into two dissenting opinions. One group had the clear majority over the other. As we returned to the capitol building (and more importantly, to the parking lot for lunch), we wondered who among us would have steely enough nerves to change the flags at the very tip top of the imposing building.

Finally, it was time to leave. We all piled into the vans and prepared for the long trip back. Due to students' sleep-deprived night at the hotel, Mr. Walsh had a very peaceful trip back to Chicago. I imagine the same is true for Mr. Coleman. The next day we were ready to get back to our daily routines.