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GLANCE AT THE stone walls inside the little old church in Sherborne, England, and you'll notice a roster of vicars who have graced the pulpit there. The list goes back 900 years.
But it was a reference of more recent vintage that caught my eye last week as I strolled around the sanctuary. A needlepoint pad for kneeling worshippers offered a simple but touching message: "God bless America. Stand beside her, and guide her. September 11, 2001."
That evening, as my wife, Peggy, and I were watching the BBC news in our rented cottage in the Cotswolds, 75 miles west of London, we heard about a survey that found that most Britons think it's time to put distance between their country and the United States in the war on terrorism.
Those sentiments surfaced as newspapers and TV reporters swarmed around the Labor Party infighting that forced Prime Minister Tony Blair, George W. Bush's most loyal and articulate ally in the post-9/11 period, to promise to step down from office within the next year. Blair, the fresh, boyish leader of the Brits a decade ago, has become stale.
So there you have it: Despite grieving on both sides of the Atlantic, the political wear and tear of the past five years seems to be reshaping the political culture.
But our week in Britain wasn't just about politics. It was a reintroduction to the charms and eccentricities of my ancestors' homeland. Here are a few of the highlights:
In the United States, proposals to turn old railroad rights of way into public trails have aroused controversy. Look no farther than King George County. But that's not the case in Britain.
We hiked about 20 miles through pastures and farmyards, between cattle and sheep, across brooks and walls. It's part of the United Kingdom's public footpath program, which opens up thousands of miles of routes through private property that would otherwise be inaccessible.
In the rolling Cotswolds, that meant one striking vista after another.
Britons' aversion to the Bush administration is well documented. But that hasn't snuffed out their love of much about America.
Cowboys and Indians are a fascination for some Brits--and a topic for self-parody. One TV skit had a couple of "English cowboys" sitting around a campfire playing bridge, instead of poker.
British tourists can get hooked on the States. A retired English couple we bumped into at Heathrow Airport hoped to eventually visit all 50 states. So far, they were up to 27.
An ancient custom surfaced one night at our local pub--an appearance by the local Morris Men dancers.
A brawny member of the troupe explained the tradition to us as he sipped his brew. The beginnings of Morris dancing are mysterious, his wife noted. Some consider it religious; some think of it as pagan.
Whatever its origins, we were hardly prepared for what came next. The all-male group gathered on the outside patio, dressed in German-looking dance outfits, with bells attached to their legs and flowers in their hats. To rousing music, they kicked up their heels with more than a little hopping and skipping.
It was all fascinating and enjoyable, but to the uninitiated (that's us), faintly ridiculous. Suffice it to say the Morris Men won't be appearing anytime soon at the John Wayne Film Festival.
Traveling through London's Heathrow Airport a few weeks after the alleged terror plot to blow up U.S.-bound airliners seemed like bad timing on our part.
But other than two hours of waiting in line (or queuing, as the Brits put it), there was nothing particularly arduous about the process.
The Heathrow plot does seem to have inflamed public opinion, however. Though the debate over the alleged conspirators has been outwardly civil, our conversation with a retired policeman from London revealed a real passion.
He felt the involvement of recent immigrants to Britain in terror plots was pushing the country toward "civil war." It's hard to know how much he might have been exaggerating for effect.
So it goes in the post-9/11 world.
ED JONES is editor of The Free Lance-Star. He can be reached at 540/374-5401 or at edjones@
