Straddling the Prime Meridian
This year I had the occasion to be working in Greenwich, London, within walking distance of the Royal Observatory. I really wanted to check it out, and fortunately, so did my cohorts, Holly Davis, Simon Allen and Tony Reiss.
The park surrounding the hill on which the Observatory sits is lush with old trees and grass – very peaceful. We had a leisurely walk up the hill, anticipation building. Once we arrived at the top, we discovered that the Observatory was already closed … bummer. But while I was there, I thought I might as well look around. Then Holly and I discovered the green laser that shoots out from this box on the side of the building, close to the roof … The Prime Meridian, 0° Longitude, demarcating the Eastern and Western Hemispheres. We got excited and started scrutinizing the area to see what else was there. That’s when we noticed the groove in the courtyard, and it matched exactly the line of the laser. The courtyard itself was closed, but we followed the groove on down to a lower courtyard that, sure enough, continued that same groove as the laser above.
Aha! Well we just had to stand on both sides of the Prime Meridian – one foot in the Eastern Hemisphere and one foot in the Western Hemisphere – waiting to see what would happen. I was expecting at least a tingle in my body somewhere. Nothing. Not a twinge.
So why was it exciting?
I grew up in Texarkana, on the Texas side. Which implies that there’s another Texarkana. It was on the Arkansas side. The Post Office was/is a huge building that straddles the state line, and we citizens, as well as every tourist who ever came through Texarkana, loved to straddle that state line too. Most folks got their picture taken.
The neatest thing was on Sundays. After church, Daddy and Momma would put us kids in the back of the car and drive around town to look at the houses in the wealthy neighborhoods. Invariably we’d end up crossing into Arkansas. State Line Avenue ran north and south, centered on the state line. It was bizarre to see the potholed side (Arkansas) and the smooth side (Texas).
When no traffic was coming from the other direction, Daddy would position the car half in Texas and half in Arkansas. Because there were 3 of us kids, whoever was in the middle was “split in half.” My sister, brother and I took turns each Sunday getting that middle position. It was a giddy experience. We thought we were doing something impossible, like being in two places at once.
Jenny