The President’s Heads

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If you have ever visited Williamsburg, Virginia, you know that there are many historical attractions.

Many years ago, while on a school field trip to Jamestown, I spotted something captivating, just off of the exit ramp from the highway…giant heads depicting our past American Presidents. It was President’s Park, an attraction that was open from 2004 until 2010.

Making a mental note to take my children one day, it was filed away with my lists of groceries, household to-do details and information about far away lands that I wanted to see. It wasn’t until we were struck by a pandemic and I could no longer travel throughout the world, and even to some other states, that I began researching nearby attractions to occupy my time while away from work. President’s Park quickly moved to the top of my must-visit list…right behind Gettysburg. As I perused the internet, however, I could not find any current information about the park.

After a bit of digging, I learned that due to lack of interest, this place closed, leaving the giant heads to succumb to neglect and decay. After selling the property, the owner wanted the heads destroyed, however, Howard Hankins, who had helped to construct the park, had the forty-three heads, which measure between 18 and 20 feet high, moved to his family farm in nearby Croaker, Virginia. They now stand neglected in a field, on the site of his industrial recycling facility, and are not presently open to the public. There are plans, however, to restore these mighty busts and recreate a museum with the assistance of the Smithsonian in the future.

What a disapointment!

A few more clicks on the internet, however, led me to find John Plaschal, a local photographer who plans photographic events (with the permission of the owners) at historic locations that are not ordinarily open to the public. As if fate had led me in this direction, I learned that he was planning a ticketed event at the farm where the presidential heads are located.

I quickly purchased my ticket and made plans, rain or shine, to be there.

That afternoon, with darkened skies and light rain falling, I drove the hour’s distance to Croaker and headed down a long dirt road, where I spotted the family farm. Parking my car, I headed to the tent, presented my ticket and received a map detailing the presentation of the statues.

Thanking my lucky stars that I had had the good sense to wear rain boots, I traipsed down the muddy road, following another photographer, and praying that the light rain would continue to diminish.

Rounding a bend in the road, I took a sudden breath inward as I spotted most of the statues, in five, uneven rounded lines, to my left.

Having three hours to capture these decaying and crumbling monoliths, I decided to make my way to the back line and work my way down to the far end first and then tackle the front lines and the three other statues that stood off to the side near the road.

The first president I encountered was John Adams. Slipping and sliding down a muddy hill, I found myself eyeing his sly grin which was undoubtedly suppressing his laughter at the many tourists who fall right before his eyes on the sodden slope (literally!). Standing in the mud, I glanced ahead at the line of huge heads awaiting my inspection and I plodded on.

George Bush, John Q. Adams, Martin Van Buren, Millard Fillmore…

This is where it began to get interesting…and not just my scrutiny of the statues.

Remember how I said that I was glad I wore rainboots?

Camera pointed high, I was not focused on the ground. Suddenly, I felt water seeping onto my socks. Looking down, I realized that not only the ground was wet, it was flooded and I had stepped in water higher than my short boots. I guess I should have worn my tall ones!

Looking forward, I realized that from James Madison onward, the ground was covered with standing water. I realized that I could skip this section, which is why other visitors were not around, or keep going. Oh well, wet feet are wet feet!

Pulling up each leg of my yoga pants as high as I could, I merged onward, with water edging up to my kneecaps. As I committed each statue digitally and swatted the occasional mosquito and prayed that I would not encounter any snakes.

James Madison, Thomas Jefferson, James Monroe, Bill Clinton, Gerald Ford, William H. Harrison. As I rounded James K. Polk’s statue, I climbed up a hill at the base of his head and took in the rear view from high above.

Before tackling the middle and forward lines, I ventured off to inspect George Washington, Andrew Jackson and Abraham Lincoln. These statues were a bit removed from the others and obviously attracted a great deal more attention. While I admired Andrew Jackson’s smooth façade (the only statue to have been fully restored), I walked around to the rear of Abraham Lincoln. Most of the statues had considerable holes in their heads, as this is how the crane was able to secure the statues and move them, but on old Abe, it was a bit disconcerting, knowing his demise.

Making my way back to the other statues, I encountered Zachary Taylor, John Tyler and Franklin Pierce, then braved the waters that lapped at Rutherford Hayes, James Garfield, Grover Cleveland, William McKinley, Calvin Coolidge, Richard Nixon, Dwight Eisenhower and Warren G. Harding. It was amazing to gaze up at these stunning pieces of artwork and discover the thought and detail that was used by the artist, David Adickes, in their creation.

The front three rows were the easiest to survey and the driest. It was here that I saw some of our most recent Presidents, Ronald Reagan, John Kennedy, Jimmy Carter, and George W. Bush. It was Woodrow Wilson and Theodore Roosevelt who commanded the crowd’s attention in the forefront, however, both in direct contrast of each other. Wilson’s decaying face appeared as one of a man who had lived a hard life, while Roosevelt’s stoic pose was relatively almost untouched.

While it had stopped raining halfway through my tour, the dim skies lent to the occasion of these statues’ dark days, alone in a deserted field. Glancing around at the crowd that had come out to see them, it is a wonder how President’s Park never garnered enough attention to remain afloat during the years that it was open. Maybe it was a lack of advertisement or just that fact that there are so many other attractions in the Williamsburg area. Maybe people today are more infatuated with things that are not so easy to come by. Or maybe there are a lot of photographers like me that find the beauty in the not-so-beautiful.

Today, these abandoned statues have attracted a great deal of attention from visitors worldwide, so much so, that John Plaschal’s monthly and bi-monthly events are often sold out and guests come from many parts far and away. One day, Mr. Hankins may have them restored to their former glory and available to all who want to experience their original artistry, however, for now, put on your rainboots and try to get a ticket!

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John Plaschal Photo

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