See that picture up top? That’s our waterfront, at least after they mandated the boat clubs to get rid of their shacks and put up those little lockers. It used to be quite the place down there. We’d get totally drunk and stoned just a little ways past the old folks home which would be behind you and maybe 1000 feet to your right. At night we would make a fire, usually a small one, and there wasn’t any high rise condos on the island across there for any one to call the cops, so it was usually all good passing a gallon of wine around or numerous cases of 24. Rarely any problems. The one thing that was always crazy to figure is how you could be sitting there on this mighty river like you were completely away from everything, yet, all you had to do was turn around, walk up about 12 feet of a steep slope and there, right out there, was a huge city. Unreal.
Of course other stuff happened. You get older and you never see those people anymore. The whole place gets developed as though there just can’t be enough concrete everywhere. Other things come along. People die. You hear a name here and there.
The lights on the south shore used to look like stars on the horizon. And the basic question remains, what does it all mean? Never an answer, always a quest, more beginnings, until the end. But for sure we had good times down there.
Garrett McFella
PostArctica 