Today we headed out of Massachusetts, but on the way we spent some time in Salem, MA.

Everything I read said that Salem doesn’t want to be known only for the witch trials. That is only an 8 month stretch of their hundred years old history. But it was the epicenter of an important event, and it is an important event to ponder. It even makes it into modern vernacular in the form of phrases like “witch hunt” and “trial by fire.” 

We started at the Salem witch museum. It starts with a narrated viewing of wax figure scenes depicting the events of 1691-1692. There are more questions than answers, but suffice it to say nobody was a witch. The second part of the museum addresses modern day witchcraft, both in actuality and in perception. 

This visit gave my family much to talk about. Who am I to judge another’s choice of religion? Just because I don’t believe something, does it make it not real? And how do we avoid false witnesses calling out scapegoats? How do we avoid being quick to judge in the face of hysteria? It’s easy to tell ourselves that something like this is silly. That we are too enlightened to ever see this in our day. But human nature is what it is, and we need to be vigilant to our own weaknesses. 

This conversation was made much more real by the fact that I know a woman who practices witchcraft. She was a wonderful childhood friend of mine, and we recently reconnected. She is open and beautiful about her beliefs. As I have found in my life, knowing a player in the game makes a huge difference to your perception about an issue. I have been on both sides of this coin, and it is a testament to why we travel and why we seek others who are different from ourselves.

Our next stop was the old burying site. On the outside is a memorial to the 19 men and women executed in the name of witchcraft. Their graves went unmarked, to be cast out.  Inside the cemetery itself are graves paying homage to those who convicted them. Also of interest was a grave of a pilgrim who came over on the mayflower.

We then walked the historic downtown. My imagination brought images of those cold winters in the late 1600s, these streets where those men, women and children walked, or sat in their homes next to fires. What were they thinking? Their lives were forever altered, all of them. Some were ended. We continue to study them, to talk about them, to try to understand. Edit

We finished with a run through this fun art installation.