Shopping in Sunrise

Like many things in South Florida, Sawgrass Mills Mall is an artificial destination. Built in 1995 as the Sunrise Galleria, the mall is a sprawling shopping destination for local and international visitors alike. When I was a kid the area was nothing but swamp and farmland. Today, it is difficult to discern that there was once farmland where a gigantic mall and parking lot now stands. The highway that leads to the destination, which also contains the BB&T Center, is modern and congested. 

As a shopping experience, Sawgrass is almost daunting.  My visit to the mall on a Saturday evening (in mid-November) was not a shopping experience. I was there to kill a few hours while waiting for companions to attend a show at BB&T. I noticed that patrons were engaged in an orgy of shopping. It was surprising the number of shoppers, many international, who had purchased rolling luggage and were in the process of filling their bags up with clothes, toys and the latest electronic gadgets. The mall has even tried to transform nature. It moved people almost imperceptibly from outside to inside. If it were not for the change in temperature and humidity, most patrons might not even know that where he/she was. As I watched several people busily explore their avarice laden desires, I was struck about how the mall might have resembled a traditional market on a Saturday, the major difference being that no traditional market would be open at 9PM. 

Longfellow Bridge

Every other November, I have the opportunity to take long, cold walks across the Longfellow Bridge. This year, construction is taking place to rehabilitate the bridge that crosses the Charles River and links Boston with the city of Cambridge. The bridge connects the two cities by foot, subway (The T) and automobile and is a great piece of architecture that provides travelers with a beautiful view of the skyline. The bridge was originally constructed in 1908 and is referred locally to the “Salt and Pepper Bridge” because the granite towers at the center remind people of tableware. I am unsure of the plans; however, I hope the cast iron fences that line the sidewalks, admittedly in bad shape, survive the restoration of the bridge.

Historic Matthews Arena

Matthews Arena, Boston

What is it that attracts us to old sports facilities? In an era when virtually every major sports team (and many minor ones) clamor for modern facilities, many knowledgeable fans seek out and celebrate classic venues. Perhaps it is those of us trying to recapture the pure thrill of competition and sports we experienced as children. 

When one thinks about historic sports venues in Boston, the natural first thought is Fenway. Yet, the old city has more hidden treasures. Opened in 1910, Matthews Arena is the nation's oldest multifunction sports facility and the oldest sheet of ice in hockey. Since 1930 it has been the home of the Northeastern University Huskies hockey team. Previously, however, it was the original home of the Boston Bruins (1924-1928) and the only "Original Six" arena still extant. Other tenants have included the Boston Celtics (basketball, 1946-1955) and the New England Whalers (1972-1973) of the World Hockey League.

Obstructed view seats

Although the arena has been renovated several times there are some distinctive features. The ceiling of the barn is made of planks of wood. There are numerous obstructed-view seats, especially in the top level of the arena. Rather than side-by-side, the benches are across the ice from one another. 

With an arena this old, it is hard to avoid a sense of nostalgia. The photographs in the lobby contains team pictures dating back to 1929. Banners in the rafters tell of a great tradition, but limited success in conference play and at the national level. But this is not the grandeur of the arena. Instead, it is in the bricks and mortar, the seats and the memories of over a decade of entertainment, joys and sorrows, friendship and comradery. 

On the occasion of your 106th birthday

I have been thinking about you a lot lately; it has been a little over 25 years since you died. Many of the things that you might have recognized are no more. The church building that you loved and nurtured is still standing; however, the congregation that you knew has been disbursed. The buildings of the railroad where you toiled in a lifetime of work are still standing, but the company has long since been bought and it is now part of a major international corporation. Sadly your son is no longer with us; however, your grandsons and your great-grandchildren thrive and are happy.

Even though you are no longer with us, you are in my mind. You are still a role model, especially when it comes to treating people with kindness and patience. Your memory reminds me that quietness and thoughtfulness are not vices; they are comforting to those around us. It is those who are patient and kind get the most out of life. Greatness is not found in grandiose awards, but in the simple recognition of your friends and neighbors. 

You once told me, a couple years before you died, how much you enjoyed your travels. I still remember long drives on Sunday afternoons in the country, just exploring. We were seeing what was “around that bend” or “over that hill.” Your one travel regret, you said, was that you never had the opportunity to visit the land of our ancestors, and of your mother: Germany. I have been there and I am lucky enough to visit often. You should know it is interesting and beautiful and you would have loved it. On the day before your first birthday after your death, momentous events in Berlin changed the world. It was remarkable and I remembered you that evening. All these years later, I continue to think of you often and especially every time I find myself in Germany. 

Happy birthday, Fred. 

October Trees

For many October is a time of dread. The days grow shorter and the shadows longer. For me, the autumn represents the beginning of a metamorphosis. A change that portends new possibilities and adventures. The changing colors of the trees create a surreal landscape in which walks become idyllic wanderings, the smell of leaves decaying is reminiscent of a long ago Saturday afternoons, raking leaves and playing games that required us to dive into the piles we made.

One fall, we raked leaves and put them into plastic bags. Eventually we would take them to a city park where the city would dispose of them somehow. This particular year we devised a game in which the bags of leaves were substitute, imaginary players in a game of football. The bags were fellow teammates or obstacles to avoid during a running play. Some bags, strategically distributed around the backyard acted as receivers for our errant passes. Of course, the game devolved into one in which we would throw each other the ball so that the receiver had to dive across multiple bags to catch the ball. As we landed on the bags, great geysers of leaves would fly high into the air. It was fun, and the smell of wet decaying leaves today remind me of that invented game. Not too long after the game began, it became one of diving into the bags, resulting in torn bags and leaves once again strewn across the backyard. My father was there to sternly remind us that we were wasting trash bags and with that we needed to recommence our labor.

Gold finch

The end of October brings more birds to our feeders, as the trees lose their foliage. My memories of recklessly and aimlessly diving into piles and bags of leaves is revived each time I walk and marvel at the changing colors of October. But these days I do walk, not dive…and I think of one of my favorite poems: “Being But Men” by Dylan Thomas. Children have imagination, energy, adventures and insight. “Being but men, we walked into the trees.”

Rain, Books and Lewes

Biblion Used Book & Rare Fins in Lewes, Delaware

A rainy weekend at the Delaware shore brought me once again to Biblion Used Books & Rare Finds in Lewes. This cozy and comfortable shop offers an eclectic selection of books, journal and note cards. When the weather is nice, the sign in the front of the store usually has a good literary quote.

It was by chance that I made my periodic visit to Biblion on the same day I read an article in the Guardian about the “weird and wonderful bookshops” around the world. The article reminds me of some of the great stores I have visited and the treasures I have procured. 

My Life with Trains (Part 2) Nostalgia

I grew up in a railroad family; both my father and my grandfather worked for the same small railroad, the Kentucky & Indiana Railroad, better known as the K&I. Before the final sale of the K&I in late 1981, my dad transferred to the L&N (Louisville and Nashville Railroad). Both of these railroads are no more. The L&N as a separate entity disappeared into the larger corporate name of CSX. The fortunes of the K&I, its workers and my grandfather were key topics of discussion in my early childhood.

Although the yards of the K&I are still in the Portland section of Louisville, the only substantial reminder of the old company is a railroad bridge, the K&I Terminal Bridge, from Portland to New Albany, Indiana. When I was growing up, we would often cross into southern Indiana over the bridge. I often remember it as a nerve-racking adventure. The bridge was high and the paths for automobiles were narrow. It seemed that there were only inches on either side for the car to pass through the blackened steel fences.

Lady watching the model train around our
Christmas tree (still from family 8mm film)

From my young perspective, the best thing to come from that old railroad was a dirty old dog. I do not actually remember it, but the family legend was that my dad called my mother and asked if it was alright to bring her home. When she arrived, the dog, which had been hanging around the yards for a few days looking for food was filthy. It took several baths to clean the oil and soot out of her fur. That dog, despite her humble beginning, would go on to become one of the legends of family. Given the name Lady, she became very protective of me. She climbed on top of my toy box each night and waited for me to go to sleep before creeping out of the room, signaling my parents that I was, indeed, asleep. She was a trusted, and loved, member of the family.

On another occasion the K&I yards offered an abortive miracle. My father, the religious man he was, was transfixed and perplexed by a question my brother once asked. We have driven down to the K&I yards so that my father could speak with my grandfather about something. (Perhaps it was a ruse to get out of the house) It had been a longstanding practice to see my grandfather at work. He was kind and always glad to see us; however, on this day, my brother and I were told to sit in the truck (a 1950 Ford Pickup) and wait because it was too dangerous to go in to the shop where my grandfather worked. While sitting there I asked my younger brother if he had noticed the little plastic crucifix that was propped up on the side of the building.

When my dad returned my brother asked, “Can we go around to the side of the building and see Jesus?” The look on my dad’s face was enough to tell me what he was thinking. Either that his young son was having visions of the Christ appearing at, of all places, the rail yards of the Kentucky & Indiana Railway, or he was having hallucinations with religious overtones. Either way, this was something monumental. I relished the moment for a split second. I enjoyed the confusion; the irony of something mundane being mistaken for something extraordinary. But in an instant, my dad gave me a look. All of the sudden I was being considered with suspicion. What had I done or said to lead my brother to assume that Jesus was inhabiting the side of a building at the K&I? My father’s stare became more focused on me, “What the hell is he talking about?”

I explained that there was a plastic crucifix on the side of the building where my grandfather worked. My dad drove around to look at it, one of the arms, the right one if I am not mistaken, was missing – probably broken off after a fall. My brother asked if we could have it and dad replied that he would rather buy us one. This one had been exposed to the elements and coal soot, and was broken.

Abandoned rail line behind the library in Lewes, Delaware

The disappearance and history of railroads continues to interest me. Although one of the great nineteenth century inventions, its utility and allure continues well into the twenty-first century. Railroad archaeology, abandoned stations, former right-of-ways converted into paths for walkers and cyclists, and historic excursion rides are all evidence of the profound effect the railroad industry has had on the modern world. For me, it is a reminder of a bygone, yet personal, past that evokes a great deal of nostalgia.