Where did most of the "pilgrims" the speaker met come from?

The birthplace was to open at 10 a.m.. It was 9:30 and already the pilgrims had formed a queue. I asked a lady from Ohio why she had come. "For Shakespeare," she said. "Isn’t that why you came?"
    "Not entirely," I said. "I was born here. I’m visiting my family."
    "You were born here?" she said, as if only Shakespeare had the right.
    Long ago I had emigrated to America. Now I was visiting places in which I had taken little interest before; the birthplace for example. I had passed it perhaps a hundred times without a thought of going in. Now it would cost me just under two pounds, about $3. But even stranger experience was buying a ticket to the school two members of my family had attended. Shakespeare had gone there though 350 years before. It was a good school, but I was fortunate in being sent to a better one. "Better than Shakespeare’s?" asked an American to whom I had confided. "I don’t see how that could be possible," he had muttered before turning away.
    I had taken Shakespeare for granted. However, in my current tourist status, that would have to be changed. Respect was called for. I must learn to refer to him as the bard, and not as Will in the familiar way, and never as "Willie--the Shake", which is the inelegant but customary nickname of some of the younger generation.
    This was no problem. Shakespeare worship had been around long before my day. Every building with Shakespeare connections was preserved. An inclusive ticket enabled holders to see them all. When several Americans whom I had run into asked me to show them around, I readily agreed.