Cause A Frockus

LBJ Presidential Library

Jan 20, 2016 | by Becky Oeltjenbruns

This is my year of pint-sized adventures. It started this last Saturday with a lovely brunch at Kerbey Lane, followed by a trip to the LBJ Presidential Library. It’s a funny thing, going on a historical adventure for fun (rather than being guided by a teacher, who inevitably got distracted by those rowdy kids in the back). Now that the weekend has come and gone, I’ve had some time to ponder the million dollar question: what did I learn? Dear reader, let me present my findings and please let me know your thoughts in the comments. If you have walked past the threshold of all things LBJ, do share!

Modern vibes

Doesn’t this picture say it all? The building looms as a sturdy, blank canvas. In a rather beautiful way the outside reflects the LBJ you get to know within – a man with an unshakable foundation, driven by a constant desire to learn more, do more. This was not a man intimidated by a blank piece of paper. He saw opportunity everywhere (and for all our fellow writers out there, you recognize the Herculean determination required to have that kind of attitude!). The inside is serene. Everything is neatly organized & all the exhibits are generously spaced. You definitely don’t feel rushed; it’s very Southern in this fashion. It beckons you: “sit down and stay for a spell while I tell you a story.” The pace is relaxed and you have time to take it all in before you go to the next big milestone in LBJ’s life and career. But despite all the spacing, blank canvas moments, and austere 60s vibes (yes, yes I know the library unveiled in the 70s) something pretty emotional still happened to me in here.

I nearly cried on two separate occasions: first, during the intro movie that talks about LBJ (talking about the New Deal, social injustices, and education gets me every time); secondly when we got to the civil rights exhibit. So why did I cry? I must confess, dear reader, that I’m not ashamed to cry in public. I have no issues with anyone staring (I don’t like it, but I don’t let it stop me). I cry when something strikes a chord within me.  But this experience was not on the same level of other things than make me tear up. This was not akin to moments like “look at how cute my dog is when he’s sleeping” – these moments at LBJ generated a deeper, reflective, and sad cry. You may ask, why the sad? Because of the “despite factors:” despite my love of vintage which reminds me that certain trends repeat, despite being an educated person, and despite being a champion of history. Despite all these tools in my arsenal, I still feel completely gutted when I see bad history repeating itself. If we’re just talking about how brooches are “in” this year, then that’s fine – dry eyes all the way. But being confronted with the fact that I was standing in a historical exhibit, catapulted backward, to a time before I even existed on this earth – that it felt real to me, felt accessible, felt like this was so close to what’s still happening now – that is what kicked me right down. Fellow vintage lovers, historians, dear readers – let’s strive to do better.

“I want to be the President who helped to end war among the brothers of this earth.” – LBJ

If LBJ taught us anything, it just takes one person. He started out as a school teacher in rural Texas, but he was a driven school teacher in rural Texas. His roots and his determination made all the difference in the world. Literally, the world. Give yourself a blank canvas moment and let that sink in (I know I had to). In an age where we get so easily disconnected by being connected, it’s only natural to forget the power of good ol’ fashioned hard work. Don’t just tweet hoping for change. Yes, words are powerful, but so are actions – and they’re even more powerful when combined. So get all LBJ on this stuff and make a positive difference in the world. One nice word, helping hand, gentle encouragement at a time – we’ll get there.

Okay. Enough about the crying and the battle cry for action. Let’s move on to the last two emotions I felt on this roller coaster journey.

I had my breath taken away three times on this trip: first, when I saw the wall of ink pens (to be within touching distance of the actual instrument that put the Civil Rights Act into law sent chills); second, when I turned around to see the grand staircase and the floors of archival materials ascending (so many books, so much history); and lastly, when I saw the picture of LBJ & Lady Bird in a field of wildflowers (hand in hand walking away from the photographer with the sun all around them – you want to talk relationship goals? here ya go!).

I had the wits scared out of me once: the animatronic LBJ. Fellow visitors, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. This is no cutesy Small World figure wiggling to a happy beat. This was disarmingly real, but not yet real. Don’t believe me – here’s a YouTube clip. I suggest watching with a friend.

But let’s not end on this note. Let’s part ways with something positive. Back to the million dollar question: what did I learn? Well, leave it to a strong woman to provide the answer. It struck me when we toured Lady Bird’s office. There it was – a simple plaque with the phrase “can do.” Two words capture it all. This was my personal call to arms. Sunday I went to the craft store for some essentials and I made my own “can do” sign. It’s now sitting at my desk, giving me a gentle reminder to go forth and do.

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For our readers: what’s your “can do” for 2016?

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