Rush Revere and the Brave Pilgrims: Time-Travel Adventures with Exceptional Americans

by Rush Limbaugh

  “You missed your cue and your entrance. I’m trying to teach a history lesson and you’re an important part of that,” I said.

  “You really shouldn’t sneak up on large mammals like that,” Liberty replied. “See the damage we can cause. Not my fault. I’m the victim here. And I’m pretty sure you’re a few minutes early. Besides, it’s not like I wear a wristwatch or carry a smartphone,” Liberty replied.

  “My apologies. It would be my pleasure if you would care to join me,” I said sarcastically as I held open the bathroom door for him.

  “That’s more like it,” he said as he walked past me without looking in my direction.

  Liberty stuck his head out the door and looked both ways. When he didn’t see anyone, we walked toward my classroom.

  “Now, remember what we talked about. We don’t want to freak out the students the first day by showing them a talking horse,” I said.

  “Yes, yes, of course. My lips are sealed,” said Liberty as he pantomimed zipping his lips with his hoof.

  “Good. Now, I’m going back in. Listen for your cue.”

  I returned to the class and was glad to see that no one had left.

  “I apologize for the delay. As I was saying, it was a midnight ride from Charlestown to Lexington when Paul Revere shouted, ‘The British are coming, the British are coming!’ This would not be complete or even possible without a noble and swift horse! Please welcome our special guest, Liberty!”

  Liberty pushed the door open and strutted into the classroom. The students in the front row leaned back, utterly shocked at what they were seeing.

  “No way!” said Tommy. “You actually brought a horse into school? This is so cool!”

  Most of the class was standing by now, watching Liberty prance around the front of the room. From the way Liberty was soaking up the attention, you’d think he was standing in the winner’s circle at the Kentucky Derby.

  Several students still looked flabbergasted. They watched Liberty as if he were a mythical unicorn and crowded closer to him. The girl named Freedom, however, stood five steps back from the rest of the class. Was she afraid? No, not afraid. Unsure? Yes, that’s it. She was looking at the other students, unsure of whether she was welcome to join them in their new discovery.

  “Don’t get too close to us, Freedom,” said Elizabeth, who stood at least two inches taller than the other girls in the class. “The horse might smell you and run away.”

  Freedom stepped back to her desk and sat down.

  “Class, I assure you that Liberty is very friendly. There’s no need to be alarmed. He doesn’t bite and fortunately, he’s potty-trained,” I said, still irritated that Liberty was late.

  Liberty snorted at my last comment, clearly insulted, and flicked his tail into my face. His horse hair tickled my nose and before I could stop it, I sneezed!

  It happened so fast that Liberty instinctively said, “Bless you.”

  I froze, wondering if anyone had heard that. Liberty froze, clearly worried if I had heard that. The students froze, clearly trying to determine if they had heard that. Finally, one of the students broke the silence and slowly said, “Did your horse just say ‘Bless you’?”

  “My horse? T-t-talk?” I stammered, looking back and forth between the students and Liberty. “Uh, well, yes. I’ve taught him a couple of words, sort of like a talking parrot. Words like ‘bless you.’ I mean, what else do you say when someone else sneezes?” I said, trying to laugh it off.

  Then, without warning, I sneezed again, “Achoo!”

  This time Liberty said, “Gesundheit!”

  Again, the students were wide-eyed and speechless. This was not going as planned. The horse, as they say, was out of the bag. So I decided to confess, sort of. I sighed, again. “The truth is Liberty is an exceptional learner. He’s very bright and, of course, he loves American history. So as long as you can keep this a secret I can keep bringing Liberty to our class. Agreed?” I said, hoping it was enough.

  You would have thought I had just asked if each student wanted a million dollars! A flurry of responses came rushing back at me, “Yes! Okay! I’ll keep it secret! I’ll do it. I’m in!”

  “Well, then, it appears we’re unanimous,” I replied. “Wonderful.” I turned to Liberty. “Is there anything you’d like to say?”

  Liberty let out a big, horsey “Neighhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

  The students looked at each other and then back at me. Tommy was the first to speak and said, “Not very impressive for a talking horse.”

  I turned to Liberty and mumbled, “Seriously, that’s the best you can do?” Then I turned back to the class and laughed. “Liberty has quite the sense of humor,” I said. Clearing my throat, I looked at Liberty and spread my arm toward the class and said, “Liberty, the jig is up. Your cover has been blown. Go ahead and tell the class whatever you’d like.”

  Liberty smiled and I could only imagine what was about to come out of his mouth. He inhaled deeply, and then in one long breath he repeated the Preamble of the Constitution!

  “We the People of the United States in Order to form a more perfect Union establish Justice insure domestic Tranquility provide for the common defence promote the general Welfare and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America,” he said, gasping for air.

  Spontaneously, Liberty was showered with praises. “Awesome!” “Cool!” “Sweet!” “Unbelievable!” “No way!” “Wicked!” “Whoaaaaaa!” “Dude!”

  Liberty took a bow or two.

  “Show-off,” I said out of the side of my mouth.

  Liberty ignored me as the students came to the front of the class and surrounded him, touching and petting his mane and fur. “You’re too kind,” he said.

  Tommy started scratching behind Liberty’s neck. “Oh yes,” said Liberty. “Right there, a little to the right. Yes, that’s it, right behind my left ear. Ahhhhh.”

  “How did you say that in one breath?” Tommy asked.

  “I bet you could do it if you tried,” said Liberty.

  I rolled my eyes and realized that my class was officially horsing around. “All right, class. Back to your seats,” I said. “Show-and-tell is over. Thank you, everyone. Please be seated.”

  The students returned to their seats and I decided we had spent enough time on the introduction and pleasantries. “Class, I want you to put away your history books. Of course, books are wonderful, but when I’m teaching you won’t need them.”

  “Mr. Revere,” Tommy said with his hand in the air. “Not to be rude, but I’d rather hear Liberty talk.”

  “I knew I would love this class,” Liberty said, jumping in. “You know, horses have been an important part of this country.”

  Oh no, I thought. Here he goes.

  Liberty continued breathlessly, “You could say we’re the backbone of America! We’ve lived among the Native Americans, we’ve fought in the greatest battles, we’ve carried all the early presidents! One of my favorite riders was George Washington! Now, he could ride. He also knew how to brush down a horse. The trick is using long strokes and starting at the top of—”

  “Thank you, Liberty,” I butted in. “You’ve been a wealth of knowledge, but I think we can save the horse-brushing lesson for another day—”

  This time, Tommy butted in. “Wait, did he say he carried President George Washington? That was more than two hundred years ago.”

  Liberty opened his mouth and then shut it.

  “I think what Liberty was trying to say is . . . well . . . he’s referring to my method of teaching,” I said quickly, not ready to introduce the concept of a time-traveling horse.

  “That’s right,” Liberty said, rescuing me. “Having Rush Revere as a teacher is like going to the movies! You all like live-action movies, right?”

  No surprise that the students all said yes.

  I walked over and pulled down the white projector screen. “History is a myst
ery until it is discovered. Your job is to use your imaginations as if you’re actually there. I’m going to help you. The ‘movie’ you are about to see will make it appear as if I’ve gone back in time.”

  Liberty winked at me.

  I continued: “Your job is to try to identify where I’m at, who I’m talking to, what event is happening, and why it is so important.”

  As I was speaking, Liberty walked over to the chalkboard, grabbed a piece of chalk with his teeth, and wrote, “Where? What? Who? Why?”

  “Together, we’re going to discover the truth about history,” I said. “Are you ready?”

  The students nodded. However, I could tell that Tommy was still not convinced he wanted to be here.

  As Liberty walked over to dim the lights, I walked over to the digital film projector and attached a small antenna to receive signals from my smartphone. Then I gave the class one final instruction: “The movie will start in just a minute. I’m going to walk Liberty outside for a breath of fresh air. I’ll return shortly.”

  “What about the popcorn?” Tommy asked.

  “An excellent idea, Tommy,” I replied. “Tomorrow, you’ll have fresh buttered popcorn.”

  A quick flurry of cheers came from the students.

  “And I’ll bring the red licorice,” Liberty said. “Not long ago I was watching one of my favorite movies, Seabiscuit. It was the final race and Seabiscuit was coming around the last bend heading for the finish line, and I, of course, was on the edge of my seat. I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen so I blindly grabbed for a piece of licorice, but instead of eating it I accidentally stuffed it up my nose.”

  My horse, I thought, the comedian. I rolled my eyes as the class laughed. I pointed Liberty to the door at the back of the room and walked over to join him.

  “When the movie is over, we’ll review what you saw,” I said.

  Liberty and I slipped out into the hallway, and I jumped onto Liberty’s saddle. I pulled out my smartphone and tapped the camera app and switched it to video mode. As soon as Liberty jumped through the time-portal I would tap RECORD and video our adventure, which would be transmitted to the film projector back in the classroom.

  It’s a miracle that it works but this way the students could see and hear exactly what Liberty and I were experiencing.

  “Do you have your seasickness pills?” Liberty asked.

  “Already took one,” I replied.

  “Good, because the last time we were on the Mayflower you looked like green Jell-O,” he said with a laugh.

  “No time to spare, Liberty. Let’s go!”

  Liberty bounded down the hall and said, “Rush, rush, rushing to history!”

  A vertical swirling hole of purple and gold began opening in the middle of the hallway. It grew in size as Liberty approached.

  I grabbed tighter to the horn on Liberty’s saddle and shouted, “Sixteen twenty, Holland, the Pilgrims!” All I could do now was hope we landed on dry ground.

  Right before Liberty jumped through the time portal, I had the feeling we were being watched. I turned my head and the last thing I saw was someone’s head dart back inside the classroom, someone with long dark hair and a flash of blue.

  Chapter 2

  The trip through the time portal was like jumping through a hoop. Instantaneously, we landed in Holland. I quickly surveyed the geography and discovered we were in a field not far from the small Dutch port of Delfshaven. Thankfully, we were alone. Wildflowers with yellow and maroon blossoms buzzed with honeybees. An apple orchard was not too far to our left.

  “Oh, look, apples!” Liberty said. “My favorite!” He started trotting toward the nearest tree. “You know that apples are an excellent source of dietary fiber—and vitamin C, too?” he said. “Of course, apples also have plenty of essential minerals like potassium, calcium, magnesium—”

  “Liberty, my brilliant friend,” I butted in. “Your nutritional understanding of an apple is impressive, but we’re here on a historical quest. Let’s gather some apples and stick them in your saddlebag, quickly. We need to head over to where that ship is.” I pointed to the harbor.

  “Oh, all right,” Liberty sighed as we began plucking apples.

  I opened the saddlebag and we both dropped them in. After about twenty apples, we journeyed over to the port. I could smell the salty sea, watch the water push up and back along the beach, and hear the sound of seagulls as they soared above us. Liberty trotted toward a large gathering of people near the shore. I noticed their colorful and bright clothing.

  “Pardon me,” I said to a young woman wearing a long green woolen dress and a linen cap that came down over her ears. She was walking toward the shore and carrying a cat that seemed very curious about Liberty. I smiled and continued: “I’m looking for the Pilgrims, I mean, the Puritans. I understand their plan is to sail to the New World.” For a split second I worried that I might have missed them. I added, “They’re probably wearing dark, drab clothing. I assume the men have tall, black stovepipe hats.”

  The woman turned in my direction but didn’t stop walking. She stared at me as if I were some strange animal at a zoo. She quickly replied, “If you’re looking for the Puritans, you’ve found us.”

  These? The Puritans? I had always imagined the Pilgrims in clothing that was black, white, and gray. However, these people wore clothing that was dyed every color of the rainbow! A yellow shirt, blue breeches, green stockings, a red dress, a purple knitted stocking cap . . . I was sorely mistaken to think that I knew what the Pilgrims wore every day. It was time to get my class involved.

  “Class,” I said, “these are the real Pilgrims.” I pointed the lens of my smartphone toward the large group that had gathered. “In the year 1620 they were known as Puritans or Saints or Separatists. Many of them separated themselves from the Church of England and escaped to Holland, where they could practice their religion without being bullied by King James and his bishops.” I pointed toward the big ship in the harbor. “I can see that several men, women, and children are boarding smaller boats to take them to that larger ship anchored in the harbor. Let’s go find out the truth.”

  Liberty and I approached the large gathering. I called to the first man we approached and said, “Excuse me, sir, but is the ship out there the Mayflower?”

  The man turned in my direction. He looked about thirty years old and could have passed as a movie star. He was tall with brown hair and a cleanly trimmed beard. He wore a leather hat that shaded his face from the sun, a long-sleeved light blue shirt, blue breeches, and green woolen stockings. I could see he was comforting a woman in a long woolen red dress. He had his arm around her and I could tell she was crying. I quickly said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

  The man looked at Liberty and then to me and said, “It’s no bother. I’m not familiar with any ship called Mayflower. The ship out yonder is the Speedwell.”

  That’s odd, I thought. Where was the Mayflower?

  “You look bewildered,” said the kind stranger. “Can we help you? Are you looking for someone?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” I replied. “I’m looking for one of the leading members of the Puritans, a Mr. William Bradford.”

  Immediately, the woman stopped crying and the man stepped in front of her. He responded, “I’m William Bradford. Do you come bearing bad news?”

  Surprised at my sudden discovery, I jumped off Liberty and reached out to shake his hand. “Mr. Bradford, it is an honor to meet you! I’m a big admirer and I would love to be of assistance to you.” When I realized I was still shaking his hand, I let go and just smiled.

  William looked back at the woman, who I assumed was his wife, and then back to me. He said, “I’m sorry, but have we met?”

  “Technically, no,” I replied. “But I was told I could find you here.” I fudged the truth a little and continued: “You see, I’m a history teacher—an historian, of sorts, and a Pilgrim, in spirit. Your Puritan faith fascinates me and I would l
ove to follow you to the New World.”

  “I see,” said William. “A fellow Puritan is always welcome to join us. We are boarding the Speedwell now. Many of us are saying goodbye to friends and family who are staying in Holland.”

  “Do you mind my asking why you’re leaving? This looks like a beautiful country and a wonderful place to raise a family,” I said, looking around and spreading my arms as if to show William everything he was leaving behind. That’s when I noticed Liberty following a man pushing a wheelbarrow loaded with large cheese wheels. I hoped the horse was behaving himself.

  “Looks can be deceiving,” William said. “We lived in Leiden, Holland, for twelve years, but it is not our home. Originally, we came from Scrooby, Nottinghamshire, England. But the government forced us to choose between following our faith and following the law.”

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  “We chose to follow our faith. So we left in search of a land where we could be free to believe and worship without persecution. We found that in Holland. We even created the ‘Pilgrim Press’ and printed papers to help spread the word about religious freedom. But now we need a community that protects our families from evil influences. Some of our members, including our older youths, are beginning to leave the Puritan faith because of what they see and hear from our Dutch neighbors. It is for this reason we have decided to start fresh in the New World.”

  I nodded with understanding and said, “It appears your wife will miss this place.”

  William’s wife quickly looked away from me. I could tell she was trying desperately not to cry, so she tearfully excused herself. William reached for her but she was now beyond his grasp.

  “My wife, Dorothy, and I have decided to leave behind our three-year-old son, John. The journey is expected to be dangerous. We have wrestled in mighty prayer to know whether or not we should bring him. We believe that God has told us that John would be safer if he stayed. He will be cared for, but, as you can imagine, the decision has been particularly painful for Dorothy.”