Who was John Rolfe?
“Tobacco farmer!” Boy, I said. I thought you guys would be dumb, but you’re not. “I’m dumb,” one girl offered hopefully. I high-fived the students and marched toward the Smithsonian Castle. Pardon me, family of four from New Braunfels, Tex. I’m a historical figure from 400 years ago who . . . “John Smith,” said the teenage daughter, Wallis Soape. Uh, yeah. “How’s your leg?” asked dad, Larry Soape, referring to the disabling burn the real John Smith suffered 2 1/2 years after arriving in the New World. Fine, thanks, but how is it you came to be so wise in the ways of John Smith? “We just came from Jamestown,” said Wallis. “Have you been?” asked Larry. “No? You really should get your boss to send you there.” Oh, there were a few people who didn’t have a clue — Are you Columbus? Shakespeare? A Pilgrim? George Washington? Magellan? — but the vast majority were down with Jamestown. Maybe that’s to be expected on the Mall, a place where geeky history buffs congregate to discuss the Federal
