“Pat, don’t ...” Too late. The alarm rang just as my friend was about to touch first lady Mary Lincoln’s dress.
But no worries, security officers didn’t rush over to escort us from the building. Embarrassed, we continued to make our way through the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum mindful that some of the exhibits, like the hoop skirt that had caught our attention, seemed so in the moment that we’d forgotten they were artifacts.
We spent three hours in the museum, our first stop on our ladies getaway to the state capital. It only whetted our appetites to learn more about the 16th president.
I had not visited Springfield since my eighth-grade class trip and had a foggy...