Privies, also called outhouses, can also be a worthy subject of history, can’t they? A part of everyday life. Privies used to be a common sight on every farm. They were located near, but not too near, the main building, and came in varying sizes — one-holers, two-holers, etc. Sometimes, there were two privies, one for men, one for women. Signs would be posted on the doors saying which was which, or the genders could also be distinguished by a crescent moon for women and a star for men.
Speaking of which, on the C&O Canal Trail, the National Park Service supplies a privy, aka a port-a-potty, every five miles or so. For the most part, they’ve been well-maintained and even have toilet paper.
In the comfort of today’s “privies,” owners sometimes feel inspired to elevate the mood of the visitor. In Hancock, we stopped for dinner at Buddy Lou’s along the Canal. In the restroom, I happened upon a framed three-stanza poem, a vase of flowers beside it, the first stanza of which follows.
The Trail to Hancock
I took the trail to Hancock all
in the sweet May weather,
Through Frederick and
through Hagerstown, with
heart as light as a feather,
The trail that climbs the
mountains so, goes
over peak by peak,
And the dogwood and the judas
trees made every moment speak.
B.B.
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