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The Salem Witch Museum
My dad and I traveled to Cambridge, Massachusetts in 2011 because his sister died unexpectedly. I lived in Portland, Oregon, and he lived in NW Indiana, an hour from Chicago.
Massachusetts, Part 13
After some confusion, my dad and I found our way to downtown Salem and parked in a parking garage. Exiting the garage by foot, we found ourselves inside a mall, oddly, and took advantage of this situation by having lunch at a Thai restaurant. It may not fit the themes of Nathaniel Hawthorne or witchcraft hysteria, but the food was yummy and inexpensive, and I liked the décor: several sparkly appliqued and embroidered needlework projects hung on the wall. Padded elephants and spirits covered with sequins.
The Salem Witch Museum is, ironically, in an old church. It’s Romanesque and from the Victorian era, and close to the downtown Essex Ave.
We arrived just in time for the next show. My dad bought the tickets, we put on our admission stickers, and we entered a somewhat dark auditorium already occupied by many tourists.