This week in backlog blog missives: September 2016, when I made a whirlwind trip to Philadelphia and home, during said whirlwind trip, my parents and I made a whirlwind trip to NYC to visit Emily and try our luck at the Hamilton cancellation line(!!!!). Emily, ever the seasoned New Yorker, had done the cancellation line a number of times and had it down to a science. She and I left her apartment in Harlem at about 4:30 AM (we both wanted to die/go back to sleep) and took an Uber to the Richard Rodgers Theater. When we arrived, there was a girl seated on one of the steps; she looked to have left a party not long before, but just to be sure, we asked if she was in line for the cancellation tickets. She looked at us like we were the insane ones—you be the judge.

We brought various necessities for freshening up at a more reasonable hour—a good thing, considering our haggard appearance at the dismal hour of 4:30 AM. Closer to showtime, our parents met us (each person in line can purchase up to two tickets, but all attendees must be present at time of purchase to immediately thereafter enter the theater; Emily and I waited in line to purchase two tickets each, and our parents joined us prior to entering the theater) in line. As luck (and a 4:30 AM wakeup call) would have it, there were some lottery no-shows (we entered the lottery, too, but, alas, did not score the $10 tickets) and WE ENDED UP WITH FOUR SEATS IN THE FRONT ROW. I could literally stand up and look down into the orchestra pit (I did not; we were at a Broadway performance; but when we first took our seats I took a long look).

At the time of this performance, there were a handful of original cast members still starring in the show: Christopher Jackson, Okieriete "Oak" Onaodowan, Jasmine Cephas Jones (who was incredible), and Anthony Ramos. The entire cast was show-stopping and the few hours that we sat in that front row, paying rapt attention to the action and melody and moment, are some that I will never forget. It feels impossible to fully describe such an experience—where every percussive boom of the cannon rattled your bones and where time seemed to stop as the turntable stage slowed as a secondhand drawn to the top of the hour. I hope that everyone can make it to see this amazing show. I hope I will have the opportunity again at some point.

Honestly, Hamilton is one of the most brilliant pieces of art I have ever had the privilege to witness. The music alone is a feat of incredible genius, but coupled with the numerous other elements which result in a stage production of this magnitude—it is utterly remarkable. Lin-Manuel Miranda is one of the most talented humans to walk the earth, and I am still in awe of that performance months and years later.

(And what would any New York trip be without beautiful brownstones? We also had Ample Hills ice cream after our Broadway matinee because #priorities.)

My dad grew up about an hour outside of Albany in upstate New York and I spent a significant portion of my childhood romping around the Catskills and Adirondacks—those rolling green hills are as familiar to me as any.

Naturally, three sisters with a Dutch surname, a tradition of summer vacation in upstate New York, and feminist ideals to boot... well, we're shoo-ins for modern-day Schuyler sisters. "Take a Break" is an obvious family favorite from the Hamilton soundtrack and when we were in town for our family reunion last summer, we decided a field trip (and photo shoot—my parents were all for it) was in order.

Eliza Hamilton's portrait on the right

Not pictured: the room and desk where Alexander and Aaron Burr studied for the bar!!

prettiest brickwork and crisscrossing groundcover

Lauren and Schuyler-kitty

The grounds of the site now are much smaller than what they would have been back in the 1700s, but the drawings showing the layout were amazing, as was Philip Schuyler's bookplate ("Take Philip Schuyler, the man is loaded"—as evidenced by their impressive hilltop location and view of the Hudson). The historical society volunteers said the site has been so busy ever since the Broadway hit and they were excited to share this piece and place of local history with us. Who lives, who dies, who tells your story, indeed.

Walking around a hip neighborhood in Vancouver, I noticed this quote painted on the rear wall of a restaurant. It's another iteration of an oft-repeated line in the musical Hamilton and quite a good motto, I think.