Sitting in Churchill’s chair

Of course, sitting in the former British Prime Minister’s chair while we were on vacation in London was just part of a great vacation trip that we took with good friends from Texas.

It was years back, in the early 1970s, when we were living in Portland, Texas, a bedroom community across the bay from Corpus Christi. We were good friends with Bill and Louree Greehey, and in conversation about where to take an early summer vacation, we finally boiled it down to London.

One of us, I can’t remember which one, remarked, “You know, we’ve been in and out of London, but we’ve never really seen London.” We all nodded, and a little later in the conversation, we decided to spend the entire vacation in London, and experience the city from top to bottom.

Of course, numerous major airlines fly non-stop from DFW Airport in Dallas, so getting there was just a boring 10-plus hour flight, and soon we were having a very British afternoon tea at London’s Barkley Hotel.

The next morning, the gals went one direction, shopping on Oxford Street and the West End, and Bill and I to another area. I had planned a return visit to a small shop called The Map Room in the Knightsbridge area of the city. Several years back, I had started collecting antique maps with a focus on Arkansas, but since Arkansas wasn’t even a territory until 1819 and wasn’t admitted to the Union until 1836, that meant most of my maps were of the Gulf coast, and earlier ones were all the way back from the time of the earliest exploration of North America by English and Spanish.

Well, after my trip to The Map Room, I was the proud owner of a pre-Revolutionary War British Map of North America, which featured the colonies and extended westward across what would one day be the American Southern states.

Our next day, we took a day-long trip to the British Museum, which was high on my list, and since Vertis and I had spent our 5th wedding anniversary in Athens, had climbed the Acropolis and walked into the Parthenon, we wanted to see the “Elgin Marbles.” Lord Elgin had “saved” the front frieze of marble figures in the 1800s, and they were a prize exhibit of the British Museum.

Of course, the Greeks considered them looted, and have demanded them back, but the Brits have hung on to them. Anyone who passes up this museum is missing one of the great museums of the world.

Then, the following day, the four of us went to Chelsea Market, which is a must for folks who want to dig through mountains of junk with the hope of finding a real treasure. Just the kind of place I really like to nose around in.

I guess one of my real pleasures of life is finding stuff. I have shelves full of rocks, minerals, arrowheads and other assorted pieces of history.

Well, after about an hour in an especially huge pile of junk with a little bit of everything crammed into a 10-by30 inch booth, I was about to give up when I spotted a roll of what looked like bird and animal prints. They were dusty, but intact. When I unrolled them, I immediately recognized what they were. They were full size John James Audubon prints. Part of Audubon’s wildlife collection of North American birds. I don’t have a clue if they are original prints or prints of prints, but I wanted them.

“How much for these bird prints?” I asked.

“Ten pounds each,” he replied.

Well, for a little over sixty dollars, I bought the four Audubon prints, and hand carried them back on the flight home. I had them framed, and they look great. I don’t have a clue if they are part of the original print edition or just prints of prints.

Then, after a day or so of dining and resting up, the gals announced they were heading for Harrods Department Store, and Bill and I opted out. I had noted that the City of London had recently reopened for tours what they were calling “The War Rooms,” a series of safe underground rooms that the British Government constructed to be used in the Second World War. It was noted a series of long stairs would have to be descended to reach them. The gals immediately turned down the trek.

Well, to Bill and I, even a series of long staircases seemed to be preferable to following the gals around Harrods. A quick call, and we had reservations to join a group at nine o’clock.

A couple of hours later, we were standing with about 15 others waiting for our guide. He was right on time, and he gave us a short talk about what the underground rooms were used for, which was basically that Churchill’s War Cabinet wanted a safe place to meet during the German V-2 Bombardment of London.

Well, they were right about the long flights of stairs. The stairs took you down under a major London park some 75 feet below ground level, where we began the tour. The

first part was rather ordinary as we went through rooms with provisions for the staff, but then we stepped into the British Government’s Cabinet Meeting Room.

Wow! It was a large room with maps covering the walls, with an arc shaped table with seating for at least 15. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that the center focus seat was Churchill’s chair. The room was as if, when the War ended, they just walked out and locked the door. Everything was there, including note pads, pencils, and other personal items in front of each seat. On the wall were maps showing the American ship conveys crossing the Atlantic, World War II maps with the front combat lines of action in Europe and North Africa noting advances during the last few days, and a series of causalities, and prisoners taken in one section.

“Take your time, and you may take photos or sit in any of the chairs, but please don’t move or take anything,” said our guide.

I walked across the room and went behind the table, hesitated, and then sat down in Churchill’s chair. His note pad, pencil, and other personal items were just as if he had walked out of the room. For a minute, I looked at the European war map and thought about how much the Free World depended on the decisions made exactly where I was sitting. I took a deep breath.

It was a moment I will never forget.