It's easy to get swept up in the national frenzy over the broadway musical Hamilton. The rap is revolutionary, the staging is enamoring and the story just leaves a tattered, patriotic pile of your heart. But the mark of a true fan lies in their itch to see more of Alexander Hamilton's stomping grounds in NYC than just the Richard Rogers Theater.
First, you can head downtown. Walk up Wall Street, past Federal Hall and the Stock Exchange, and you'll see it — a sliver peering through two towering, austere buildings — Trinity Church (queue the line "she's buried in Trinity Church near you").
The church is a relic, built in 1697, and the rest of the city has sort of stacked up around it. Surrounding the chapel itself is a stunning old churchyard where you'll stumble upon tombstones with names like Alexander Hamilton, Eliza Hamilton and Hercules Mulligan.
Next, head to the other end of Manhattan. What Angelica sings in the play really is true: it's quiet uptown. Nestled in Harlem on 141st Street lies the pale yellow, federal style "country house" of the Hamiltons. It's funny to think that back then, to escape the city you had only to scoot on up the island to be in a forest. Today, it's still a sunny little haven where birds endlessly chirp and small, 15-person tourist groups meander through the house.
Inside you'll find wonders like Hamilton's study where he dictated thoughts as Eliza furiously scribbled them down, the original piano their kids learned to play on, and a replica of the framed portrait of General Washington the Hamiltons hung in their dining room.
To end your tour, hop across the water to Weehawken Waterfront, New Jersey. When Aaron Burr talks in the musical about "rowing across the Hudson at dawn," this is where they were headed — the dueling grounds. It's a fantastic view of the skyline, and there's even a bust of Hamilton next to the rock he is said to have laid his head on to die after he was shot.
These historical sites offer a fascinating view into Hamilton's New York City — not as glitzy as it is now, but in a nostalgically, colonially, beautifully different way still "the greatest city in the world."
Time Magazine announced Donald Trump as its 2016 Person of the Year on Tuesday.
This image provided by Time magazine, shows the cover of the magazine's Person of the Year edition with President-elect Donald Trump in New York. Time editor Nancy Gibbs said the publication’s choice was a “straightforward” choice of the person who has had the greatest influence on events "for better or worse." (Nadav Kander for Time Magazine via AP)
As the face of the decision, Time Managing Editor Nancy Gibbs has done quite a bit of explaining.
In an editorial piece on what factored into the board's decision, Gibbs gives her yearly reminder that the award goes to someone who had the most powerful effect on the year's news cycle and on the world — for better or for worse.
Gibbs' toast to Trump reflects the uncertainty of which way Trump's influence will go: "For reminding America that demagoguery feeds on despair and that truth is only as powerful as the trust in those who speak it, for empowering a hidden electorate by mainstreaming its furies and live-streaming its fears, and for framing tomorrow’s political culture by demolishing yesterday’s."
Gibbs added in an interview after the big reveal on the Today show that though the country is as divided as ever over whether Trump will save or tank America, consensus on his explosive influence goes largely un-debated.
Trump responded to the recognition with praise for the magazine, saying that he read Time growing up and calling it "a tremendous honor" to grace its cover as Person of the Year. The president-elect did take issue with the cover's subtitle: "President of the Divided States of America." Trump insists that America came to him divided, and his mission is to piece it back together.
Trump's public opinion of the magazine hasn't always been so flattering, though. Trump has roasted Time on Twitter in the past when he saw the magazine going downhill for its print quality and refusal to include him in top 100 influential people lists.
Midway through his presidential campaign, Trump bashed Time for putting him on the title's short list but ultimately choosing German Chancellor Angela Merkel — the "person who is ruining Germany" — as its 2015 Person of the Year.
But now, Trump has taken his place in the magazine's hall of fame, and a Time photo history shows some of his company.
Eleven U.S. presidents have received the honor, including Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Dwight D. Eisenhower, John F. Kennedy, Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan, both George Bushes and Barack Obama. Presidents aren't automatic shoo-ins, but during the past two decades, Time has taken on a tradition of always honoring the newly elected or reelected president.
Time has taken more controversial routes before too, naming dictators like Adolf Hitler and Joseph Stalin as the year's biggest influencer. While Time's editors back then wrote confidently about the grave threat the recipients posed, today's staff — and readers — will have to wait and see.
Election exit poll data shows Hillary Clinton would have pummeled Donald Trump 496 electoral votes to 39 if millennials only voted. America's youth took Trump's victory especially hard. Their reactions have society arguing about the appropriate way to respond for those faced with election results they didn't want.
College students were a staple demographic in the throngs assembled across U.S. cities to protest Donald Trump's win. College students made news for receiving optional midterms, cancelled classes and coping programs to work through Trump-induced emotional trauma on Nov. 9.
Across the board, demonstrators chant "Not My President," and others respond, "Yes, he is."
Some thinkers view election result protestors as a group of sore losers featuring individuals who didn't vote and are trying to change the fair-and-square results of the election.
Washington State Sen. Doug Ericksen said they have every right to protest, but he wants to draw a line between the First Amendment right and thuggery.
Ericksen, R—Ferndale, is working on a bill that creates the felony category "economic terrorism." Peaceful protesters, picketers and strikers would stay protected under the new bill, but demonstrators who become violent, riotous or infringe on economic activity and other people's rights would face criminal prosecution.
As for the millennial safe space schools are offering, Iowa State Rep. Bobby Kaufmann, R—Wilton, said he finds this "incredibly annoying." He is preparing a bill, nicknamed "suck it up, buttercup," that cuts federal funding for schools that spend taxpayer dollars on grief counseling for college students after elections.
Kaufmann's bill would also follow Ericksen's by criminalizing protesters who block roads. 100 people managed to block Iowa City's Interstate 80 for 30 minutes as a part of their anti-Trump protest a few days after the election.
Although some individuals who support protesting have the goal to block Trump from the White House or reverse the election results to favor Hillary Clinton, most see it differently.
In a Nov. 17 press conference in Germany, President Barack Obama passed up the chance to use his influence to curb the protests, as requested by Donald Trump campaign manager Kellyanne Conway. Instead, President Obama acknowledged likely every president in American history has had to endure a few protests and speaking up in moral opposition is a bulwark of American liberty.
A Huffington Post op-ed by Jesse Benn pointed out his reasons to resist Trump, and even to do so violently. From where Benn stands, Trump represents the pinnacle of intolerance and skirting democratic processes to execute it. He fundamentally lowered the bar of American politics, and unless protesters voice their discontent, that kind of behavior for an American leader and their supporters becomes commonplace and the nation slides into fascism.
Benn points out that violent opposition is exactly how the country has historically triumphed over anti-American values like racism. A liberal politician or a battle of ideas hasn't typically been what spurs the change — its demonstrations and rebellions that can't go ignored.
Benn wraps up his piece with a message directly for the people calling protesters whiny and violence the wrong way to react: the privilege of considering a Trump presidency in the abstract doesn't authorize dictating how the oppressed can respond to a direct threat to their livelihood.
A Twitter thread from @moshekasher pitches another view: protesting sends a message with palpable power. It tells the world not all Americans sided with Trump and his rhetoric. It tells minority groups threatened by Trump that they're not alone. And it tells president-elect Trump he'll face a fight with the popular majority should he step out of bounds.
Over Thanksgiving weekend, Green Party presidential candidate Jill Stein raised more money and got more news coverage for an election recount than she did for her own campaign.
The campaign is approaching $7 million (Stein raised $3.5 million for her own presidential bid) in donations to fuel its file for a statewide recount in Wisconsin, a partial recount in Pennsylvania and another recount in Michigan. The Michigan State Board of Canvassers voted Dec. 2 to move forward with the recount despite a formal objection from Donald Trump representatives.
A Milwaukee County sheriff guards a room where ballots are stacked up as a statewide presidential election recount begins Thursday, Dec. 1, 2016, in Milwaukee. The first candidate-driven statewide recount of a presidential election in 16 years began Thursday in Wisconsin, a state that Donald Trump won by less than a percentage point over Hillary Clinton after polls long predicted a Clinton victory. (AP Photo/Morry Gash)
Stein's campaign is acting on the request of a team of computer scientists and election lawyers that Hillary Clinton contest the election results. The team found that Clinton received 7 percent fewer votes in counties that relied on electronic voting machines, which they say is enough to suggest possible manipulation. Stein took the reins while Clinton's campaign begrudgingly agreed to go along with the effort, acknowledging that overturning all three states and swinging the election to Clinton was near impossible.
Some local elections saw much closer calls this year.
In the Utah Legislature, Republican incumbent Rep. LaVar Christensen crept past Democratic challenger Suzanne Harrison's early lead to keep his seat by just 3 votes. The Democrats filed for a recount Nov. 28, and the new results should come forward Dec. 5.
In an even more quirky scenario, a West Jordan City Council seat was decided with a coin toss when council members voted in a deadlock between Alan Anderson and David Pack. Anderson won by luck.
Do recounts ever change the results? Absolutely.
In a 1974 New Hampshire Senate race, Republican Louis Wyman and Democrat John Durkin had to conduct a second election the race was so close, but it didn't end there. Wyman won by 355 votes, then a recount gave the race to Durkin by 10 votes, then another recount tossed it back to Wyman by two votes. Durkin called for a Senate review, but the chamber couldn't get to the bottom of it. For one last time, Wyman and Durkin ran against each other, this time with a record number of New Hampshire eyes on them. Durkin won the seat with a 27,000-vote lead.
And perhaps the most high-profile election recount: the 2000 presidential election between Al Gore and George W. Bush. Dispute over Florida "butterfly ballots" where the paper punch didn't detach from the ballot kept the manual recount efforts going for 36 days and delayed the Bush transition by six weeks before the Supreme Court finally ruled to stop recounting and Gore conceded.
Election recounts can come with a heavy taxpayer price tag, but for good reason — they've swung elections before.
Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton are deadlocked at 59% unfavorability in American eyes, and hate for the historically unpopular presidential candidates seems to have catalyzed more rally fights and campaign office attacks than usual.
A North Carolina GOP office woke up to a scorched inside from a firebomb tossed through the window during the night on Oct. 16. Someone had spray painted a swastika and "Nazi Republicans leave town or else" on the outside wall of a business next door.
A day later, Utah Republican Party Chairman James Evans shut down the party's Salt Lake City headquarters and moved staff to a secret location. The office had received a voicemail aimed at the African American chairman adorned with racist obscenities as the caller warned Evans, "he's lucky he's not being lynched right now."
The call was a response to Evans' clash with a CNN anchor on live television. Carol Costello shut down the interview in disgust when Evans said he looked forward to CNN's coverage of Bill Clinton's illegitimate son to match its coverage of Donald Trump accusers.
The threats appear on the other side of the aisle, too. On Oct. 22, two interns at a Hillary Clinton campaign office in Midtown Manhattan received a letter with white powder inside the envelope. They brought the envelope to a Brooklyn office, which was then evacuated. Police deemed the substance not harmful and none of the exposed staff showed signs of sickness.
During the primary season in January, police investigated a bullet hole in the window of a Bernie Sanders campaign office in Las Vegas. Law enforcement couldn't confirm that the hole represented a shooting, but Sanders was at the headquarters doing media interviews the same morning the bullet hole was found.
But despite the occasional racist telephone threat, firebomb or bullet hole that sprinkle the 2016 election, looking back a century or even eight years ago shows uncivil discourse playing a more starring role.
When President Barack Obama ran to become the first black president in 2008, racist threats abounded. Racial slurs and unapologetically racist explanations for not voting for Obama came through the phone lines of campaign volunteers regularly. Conservatives questioned Obama's birth and Muslim ties.
One campaign office in Vincennes, Indiana was trashed overnight. Three other campaign offices in Obama's home state received bomb threats.
Erica Chenoweth, an international relations professor at the University of Denver, said election-related clashes were commonplace before the world wars. The 1896 presidential race between Republican William McKinley and Democrat William Jennings Bryan got particularly nasty as farmers and labor union supporters went toe to toe with industrial and financial sector types after a long recession.
So times have been worse. Whether a century of development holds the nation up to a higher moral standard is another question. Time will tell if Donald Trump's hesitance to accept the results of the election if he loses ushers in a new era of violence where a base of supporters riled up against the Washington establishment crosses new boundaries.
In July, walking around with that big rosey rock on my finger made me feel like Daisy from the Great Gatsby when all you can see is her hand draped over the back of the sofa and white curtains billowing everywhere as she says lazily, “Is that you my love.”