Two weeks ago I took a walk in the park.  It was touching, sad, funny, educational and the best possible use of two hours of time.
   The park was a cemetery.  It was populated by dead people who talked.  This was the ninth year of the Walk in the Park, sponsored by the Highlands Historical Society.  Each year the Society chooses seven or so residents of the cemetery, researches their stories, casts actors and actresses, and invites the public to visit.

   It is an impressive experience to walk into a cemetery and see men and women, and sometimes children, dressed in clothes of their periods, sitting on tombstones or next to them, and waiting for a group of visitors to “come to life” and tell their stories. 
   The first was a German professor who was sent here by his brother in the 1880s to create a farm of fruits and vegetables in a brand-new town in the Blue Ridge Mountains.  The last was a third-generation descendant of one of the original families, who became an artist, late in her life.  In between were other men and women who’d led long lives, or died tragically young, but who all made their marks here and in the world, and now sleep here in the Highlands Cemetery.
   Only a week before, there was the first storytelling event in this town.  There are major annual storytelling events nearby in Tennessee, especially the international event in historic Jonesboro.  Storytelling is half writing, half acting.  It can be true, or it can be total fiction.  Either is fine, as long as it is done with skill and style.
   As often happens, two disparate ideas combine into one unusual one.  Because of the success of the first storytelling event, it will be done again, even better, at the newly-completed Bascom Center.  It was a happy coincidence that one of the speakers in the Park (the cemetery) was Louise Bascom Barratt. Her husband had created the Bascom Center for the Performing Arts in honor of her and of their shared careers in the arts in New York and elsewhere around the world.
   I enjoy storytelling, even from those whose tales are fabulous and fictitious.  But as for me, I prefer tales well-founded in history.  So, at the Bascom next June, I expect to be one of the storytellers.  I’ve begun work on the script, and you will recognize the gentleman involved.
   My name is James Madison. I was born in Port Conway, Virginia, on March 16 in the Year of Our Lord, 1751. You know me best as "the Father of the Constitution." That is not entirely true.
   There’s a tendency for the last survivor of a great event to magnify his own role, as compared to the other participants who’ve gone on before. It’s not easy for me to say this, but I've had a century and seventy-two to reflect on the matter. And, I've had some conversations with the other Framers. I must admit I took some of the credit that by rights belonged to Charles Pinckney of South Carolina.
   How is it that we know what you have done with that document we wrote in Philadelphia, so long ago?
   No, we don’t "see" modern events on some equivalent of your television screens. It’s simpler than that. We’re still sentient beings, but more so. We’re aware of events as they occur.  I’ll tell you right now that the Framer who’s most delighted with what you’ve done is Benjamin Franklin.
   You know that Benjamin created the Postal System, and served as the first Postmaster General. We all knew the fate of the nation depended on better communications. That was the basis of Thomas Jefferson's Committees of Correspondence. Right under the noses of King George's Royal Governors, the States that would become the United States, were talking to each other.  It was Franklin's Postal System that made that work.
   Now you have this internet process. No longer does the spread of information depend on the fastest horses and fastest ships to get from one end of the nation to another. Or even one end of the globe to another. The moment in 1978 when the internet went live, old Benjamin chortled, clapped his hands, and said, "Now you have a really fast Postal Service...."
   It’s not set in stone, but I believe that event will take place at the Bascom.  If so, I’ll be there – as James Madison.  Should be fun; y’all come.