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Parents spread out on blankets and mingle with good friends while their children run wild at the nearby playground. Lovers find a secluded spot under the shade of a maple tree, dogs chase Frisbees, a juggler throws balls up in the air, and a softball game ensues on the fringes of this square city block. It's a typical summer day in a typical urban setting. You could be in almost any metropolis in America, but inevitably you'll come across one of the numerous plaques that read, "Boston Common, America's Oldest Park, Founded in 1634." In Boston, we like to boast about our lengthy history.

We've even created a three-mile walking route called the Freedom Trail that guides you to the most famous historic sites in the city. You can toss your map into the garbage and simply follow the red line that not only takes you to sixteen monumental sites of the past, but brings you into some of the city's most cherished neighborhoods - Beacon Hill's century-old brick brownstones and village squares, North End's winding streets and lively Italian community, and Charlestown, once home to the Battle of Bunker Hill and now the final resting spot of America's most celebrated ship, the U.S.S. Constitution. The history of America's independence is woven into the fabric of present-day Boston to create a downtown area where the John Hancock building towers harmoniously over the grave of its namesake.

Last summer, I walked the Freedom Trail for the first time since I was a wise-cracking adolescent on a high-school field trip. Accompanying me were my wife, Lisa, who loves to remind me that she received a Master's Degree in History, and my two-year-old son, Jake, who hasn't the slightest idea what the word history means, but enjoys walking on the red line. Actually Jake was chasing after one of his four-legged friends and screaming, "Dog," when we started at the Common, once the pasture of Boston's first white settler and now the Freedom Trail's first stop. Dogs replaced cows on the Common in 1830 when the surrounding neighborhood of Beacon Hill became far too fashionable for farmland.

Beacon Hill is still the most exclusive neighborhood in Boston. My wife and I come here frequently to stroll on narrow cobblestone streets around tree-lined squares, just for the chance to dream about living in one of the Federal-style brownstones. Beacon Hill's main thoroughfare, Charles Street, is home to the finest antique shopping in the city, sandwiched between eclectic boutiques and coffee shops.

The Freedom Trail continues at the "new" State House and then onward to Park Street Church. Only Massachusetts would have a new state house that was originally built in 1798. The gold dome, long one of the city's chief landmarks, was originally fitted with leaky wooden shingles. Park Street Church is best known as the spot where on July 4, 1831, the hymn "America," also known as "My Country 'Tis of Thee" was first sung publicly.

Next door is arguably one of the most popular sites on the walk, the Granary Burying Ground. Boston Park Ranger, Alan Moulaison, concurs, stating that "he loves to get lost in the maze of famous headstones." However, it's hard to get too lost in this absurdly small plot, the final resting spot for Paul Revere, Samuel Adams, John Hancock, Peter Faneuil, all the victims of the Boston Massacre, and a Mother Goose, though historians are not positive if she is the Mother Goose.

We can easily walk through the Granary in a matter of minutes, but we spend far longer discussing the heroic deeds these great men performed. Unlike other well-known cemeteries, like the much larger Arlington, there is no pomp surrounding the Granary; just layer after layer of short stubby headstones that reflect off the windows of a neighboring office building creating quite a juxtaposition. There is no security guard either which makes Jake very happy as he plays hide-and-seek behind headstones.

We pass King's Chapel, which infuriated every Puritan when it was first built in 1687 as the first Anglican parish, and stop at the opposite end of School Street, at every writer's favorite stop, the Old Corner Book Store. This small brick house, now the Boston Globe Store, rose to prominence in the mid-1800s when it was the offices of Ticknor and Fields, the nation's leading publisher of the day. Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Harriet Beecher Stowe were just a few of the authors who gathered here regularly to discuss their newest works.

Three of the most important sites of the American Revolution lie just ahead - the recently renovated Old South Meeting-House, the Old State House, and Faneuil Hall. On December 16, 1773, some 7,000 citizens came to Old South, spilling out into the streets to protest the Tea Act. When the Governor refused for the final time to take his tea back to England, Samuel Adams rose and said, "Gentlemen, this meeting can do nothing more to save the country." Thus began the Boston Tea Party. The first bloodshed of the Revolution took place just outside the Old State House. Known as the Boston Massacre, five colonists were killed when a squad of British officers fired into a taunting, jeering mob.

Constructed in 1742, Faneuil Hall was a market where country folk could bring their produce into town. Far more important was the meeting hall on the second floor where colonists like John Hancock first dared to speak publicly against the British. Today, the meeting hall still stands but tacky gift shops have replaced fresh produce on the first floor.

Next to Faneuil Hall is Boston's number one attraction, Quincy Market. Hundreds of brand-name shops beckon out-of-towners, but instead of visiting these generic stores (The Gap, The Body Shop, Crate & Barrel, etc.,) we opt for a unique attraction, The Boston City Store. Located downstairs in Faneuil Hall, the Boston City Store features pieces of surplus city property that have outlasted their usefulness. Street signs from the 1950s and 60s, a pair of firefighter boots, streetlights guaranteed to get you on the go, and a set of seats from the now defunct Boston Garden are all for sale. We buy Jake a parking meter.

Also inside Quincy Market is one long corridor devoted entirely to take-out food. Jake loves fast food, but we decide to splurge and have a real meal at one of Boston's best-loved restaurants, Durgin Park. Durgin Park serves hearty Yankee meals like prime rib with Boston baked beans. Diners sit family-style at long tables where surly waitresses are known to throw one or two barbs at you, especially if your two-year-old son thinks his hot dog looks better on the floor. Of course, Jake had no problem devouring the sweet Indian Pudding, Durgin Park's signature dessert.

As we continue along the Freedom Trail, down one of few remaining 17th-century by-ways, we find the Green Dragon pub, first opened in 1657. During the Revolution, many meetings between Adams, Revere, and Hancock transpired in its secret back room. Today, the creaky floors and dark dank room could be an ideal setting for a Dickens novel. Seated at the long oak bar are few revolutionaries, only nearby office workers who come here to down a pint of Samuel Adams lager.

Several yards away is the latest version of Faneuil Hall, the Haymarket, where pushcart vendors sell fresh produce every Friday and Saturday on their rickety carts. The best bargains are in the late afternoon when we often walk away with a crate of tomatoes or cantaloupe for two to three dollars. Don't touch any of the food or you risk the wrath of one of the salesman. We learned the hard way. Jake grabbed a banana and suddenly, in one of the thickest Boston accents I ever heard, some guy screams at him, "Hands off the mawchandise! I bag the food, buddy." Jake looked up at the man's unshaven face, pointed to the bananas, and said, "No. No."

The ugliest stretch of the Freedom Trail goes under the highway from the Haymarket to the North End. Instead of turning right with the Freedom Trail, we continue straight for one block on Salem Street and then turn right to catch up with the red line back on Hanover Street. This is the authentic North End where everything is Italian from the butcher to the baker to the ravioli maker. Many of the finest restaurants and pastry shops line Hanover Street, including Mike's which is always crowded with cannoli lovers.

Long before this community was Italian, the North End was Boston's first neighborhood, inhabited since the town's founding in 1630. Standing on a small cobblestone square in the North End is Boston's oldest building - the home of Paul Revere. Late on the night of April 18, 1775, the middle-aged silversmith set out from this exact location on a journey that would make him the most celebrated patriot. Revere's midnight horseback ride would take him fifteen miles to Lexington to warn Hancock and Adams of the rapidly moving British troops. It would be close to a year before he dared to set foot in his home again.

Remarkably, this two-story structure which Revere bought when it was already 90 years old is still intact and, from the square, is incredibly picturesque. We walk up the spiral wooden staircase to see the same dresser and chair Revere used in his bedroom. Jake is more interested in the small wooden crib that received heavy use; Revere fathered sixteen children.

We continue on Hanover Street before veering left through the Paul Revere Mall to the Old North Church. While Revere was already on his way to Lexington, his friend Robert Newman was instructed to hang lanterns from Old North's steeple windows, "one, if by land, and two, if by sea." This action would alert the people of Charlestown of the British insurgence just in case Revere never made it to Lexington. Inside Old North, today's congregation still uses the same tall box pews colonists needed to ward off the cold in the harsh years before central heating arrived.

Robert Newman is buried just up the hill from Old North at the North End's highest point, Copp's Hill Burying Ground. Inside the graveyard, we get our first glimpse of the Charles River and the mast of the U.S.S. Constitution which is docked across the water in Charlestown. To reach the hull of Old Ironsides and the home of Bunker Hill, we throw Jake in the stroller and follow the Freedom Trail on the footpath across Charlestown Bridge.

Technically, Bunker Hill was a British victory since the Redcoats held the bloody summit when it was all over. The Americans were entrenched atop the hill, and to conserve gunpowder, were ordered not to fire "’til you see the whites of their eyes." Row after row of Redcoats advanced further up the hill, wondering why there was no response. Finally the colonists were ordered to fire. The British were mowed down by the patriots' guns, but soon the Americans did indeed run out of powder. To commemorate this heroic effort, a 221-foot granite obelisk known as the Bunker Hill Monument was dedicated in 1843.

Bostonians like to save the best for last and this is certainly true of the Freedom Trail. Yet even I didn't realize how fortunate locals were until I strolled down to the docks of the Charleston Navy Yard and looked at the U.S.S. Constitution for the first time in more than a decade. "It's a gem," says Californian, Holly Hubbard-Miller, referring to the most popular site on the trail and echoing my thoughts exactly. The last time I laid eyes on this ship, the sails were tattered, the paint was chipping, and the mast looked like the leaning tower of Pisa. Now, the sails were pearly white, the hull freshly painted black and all the sheets seemed new and tightly coiled - everything was in ship-shape. To celebrate its bicentennial last year, Old Ironsides was totally re-rigged in order to sail for the first time in more than a century.

The boat's nickname comes from its impenetrable hull. Built of live oak, cannonballs literally bounced off her sides and fell into the sea. Her greatest exploits came during the War of 1812 when she almost single-handedly annihilated the British fleet. Loaded with numerous cannons, this warship is still an active commissioned ship in the United States Navy. An enlisted sailor gave us a tour of this beauty without censoring the salty tales. One such story concerns the sailors' feet. They could not wear shoes, so if something spilled on the deck, say, blood, they would simply throw asphalt pebbles on the ground in order not to slip. I glanced down at Jake's new Nikes, which were now trying to climb atop one of the cannons, and thought about the benefits of living in the next millenium.

You can retrace your steps back to Boston, but we prefer to take the $1 ferry ride from the Charleston Navy Yard to the Long Wharf, situated close to Faneuil Hall. Waiting on the docks for the boat to arrive, I watch hundreds of sailboats tack back and forth across the Charles. Then I glance across the water to where Old North's stark white steeple stands tall amongst the much higher skyscrapers. Boston has somehow blended the old and new perfectly, so that a jaunt on the Freedom Trail is also a stroll through a modern, thriving city - one that even a two-year-old can enjoy.

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