Back to the Future

In the book Future Shock, which I was required to read as a sophomore in college, author Alvin Toffler predicted in the 1970s that living history communities would eventually spring up in America allowing people to have the option of living their lives in the past, or at least a interpretation of the past. The idea intrigued me at the time, since my only experience with such places had been an elementary school outing to Henry Ford’s bizarre Greenfield Village and a trip to Williamsburg, Virginia when I was eighteen. Both places were staffed with people taking the option of living in the past, but neither one seemed particularly convincing or inviting.

Fast forward to my experiences as a Civil War reenactor. Gathering together with hundreds and thousands of like minded lunatics who wanted to recreate the world of the 1860s, I found an experience that most resembled Toffler’s prediction, but only as a temporary world; a weekend’s escape from the twentieth century. I had read about plans to establish a permanent site for a Civil War reenactment village, but to my knowledge nothing ever came of it. Visits to Tombstone, Arizona, Lincoln, New Mexico, and Virginia City, Montana during the intervening years all left me with the feeling that Toffler’s vision would never come true for the history of the American frontier. Nevada City in Montana might come close, but unless I am mistaken few of the reenactors there are paid for their trouble.

Our visit to Sovereign Hill on Thursday convinced me that Toffler’s prediction can possibly become true. Set in the 1850s, this town is a recreation of frontier Ballarat, staffed by over 350 paid employees and probably a volunteer compliment equally as large. The buildings were superb reproductions, as evidenced by comparing old photographs with the present structures, and even the miner’s cabins and tents along the gold panning creek gave the impression they had just been erected and abandoned for the day by occupants whose lust for gold kept them at their claims from dawn to dusk. The personnel were accurately dressed, and they slipped from first person interpretation to contemporary explanation effortlessly. Even groups of school children, who need to book their visits years in advance, were properly decked out in nineteenth century garb and shepherded about by teachers in similar attire, learning their lessons in basic subjects along with manners and comportment. They were so regimented, and so polite and willing to play the game, that it added to the illusion of actually being in the past. There were four different schools being taught at different locations in the town.

We spent the afternoon in this wonderland taking in the shops, watching some of the demonstrations, riding the Cobb & Company stagecoach, and having a delicious late lunch before checking into our cabin accommodations at a nearby caravan park. By the time we got there, Jayne and I were pretty well done in, and none too

enthusiastic about the next activity I had scheduled; taking in the towns light and sound show about the Eureka Stockade event that started at 9:00 p.m., a time when we are generally in our pajamas. Add to that a fierce wind and rain storm that had started during the day but only turned uglier at nightfall and you have a picture of our reluctance.

We should not have had the slightest hesitation. In spite of it being a cold, wet, and blustery night, we made our way back to the town to watch one of the best multi-media historical presentations I have ever seen. It began in an exhibit hall with interactive stations that helped one place the gold rush into context and appreciate the incredible hardships that goldseekers had to endure to get to the diggings. Then we were seated in an indoor theater and presented with a projected show that gave an overview of the 1854 miner’s revolt. Just as I was getting comfortable and smugly reassuring Jayne that we would not have to go outside for the show, a guide appeared on the stage and told us to follow her outside for the rest of the show! We were herded into the middle of a cold, rainy, muddy street that ran through the miner’s shacks and storefronts where the narration continued. Jayne, dressed only in two sleeveless dresses and a shawl, at least had an umbrella, but I gave her my coat, too, or she never would have made it. That would have been a pity, too, for once the gold camp portion of the presentation concluded they provided a bus that took us over a mile up the hill to ANOTHER open air theater where the story continued. It was fascinating, thrilling, and downright awe inspiring as we watched the tale unfold in

a scale model of Ballarat with working campfires, burning buildings, and various special effects. I was not uncomfortable; we were sheltered from the rain and I have a tendency to dress too warm anyway, so we enjoyed the entire show together, hypnotized by its professionalism and realism. Bear in mind this was all conducted in the dark, and when the bus took us back down to the main street the scene was lit by soft glowing street lamps that lent an eerie realism to the concluding performance, a live address by an actor portraying one of the miner’s leaders. We went home after that stunned by what we had seen and spent a comfortable night.

So, if it is true one can live in the past in this future world we find ourselves, I think Sovereign Hill came closer to that ideal than anything I have ever seen. We both agreed that the potential for Virginia City to replicate some of the things we saw here in Australia ought to be explored.