After parking and making the ascent in an elevator barely large enough to change your mind in, we found ourselves in a street turned pedestrian plaza – and not marked as such on any map. There was a statue of Lincoln in front of his Law Offices – which were closed only on a Monday, and of course it was a Monday. We paused to take photos, and look about for maps – signs – anything to point our way to the museum.
There was not a sign to be found. The AAA map was useless too. As for signage espousing Lincoln’s pursuits from being a surveyor to playing handball on an otherwise unremarkable brick building’s blank painted wall, there were plenty – Trixie imagines that if one had enough time to wander these metropolitan streets that you would find a historic marker indicating where Lincoln spent time in the public privy, now enshrined in marble and gold.
Wandering a block in the wrong direction amidst deserted streets and derelict stores, we found a human that told us we were going in the wrong direction – we backtracked, and eventually found our way to the corner where the massive yellowing structure lay, sprawled across two city blocks and helpfully connected by a pedestrian walkway over the traffic of one street. The mirrored images of the building added to the confusion, as again it was the same facility, with the same signage mirrored like a carefully crafted politician’s lie.