We were all nervy with an unspoken anticipation. We were accelerating toward something and we didn’t know what. Geek Love – Katherine Dunn
It’s safe to say that they were moving towards the grave, these long-gone ancestors of mine. In 1962, speed had a different connotation. It was the pace of a powder blue Impala, crossing long, low bridges, over deep, dark waters, heading south to Orangedale. The glide of a push button Dodge Dart, maneuvering the Trout River Bridge. And a big, black-house Mercury, lumbering through the neighborhood, to pick up Nell, who inched her way down the stairs of a Riverside, garage apartment.
They knew the Rosary, moonshine, horses, men, speakeasys, the St. John’s River, The Jacksonville Zoo, Palmo Fish Camp, family gatherings and dinners, R & R whiskey, Timiquan Indian blackouts, and deadly fire on the Main St. Bridge.
They were welcomed by the Orange Park Garden Club, the Westside Saddle Club, and Our Lady of the Angels Catholic Church.
Time and family are ethereal. They sway in the oaks, their moss heavy, pulling toward the earth.
Rotars no longer ring. ~ Evergreen 389 ~ Now boxes talk, in silence. ~ OMG, lol ~ Real time is a reality that isn’t real.
Yet, we all move in the same direction, as those of old.
What do we know?
The Rosary, psychotropics, horses, men, honkey tonks, the St. John’s River, The Jacksonville Zoo, Ruth Chris Steak House, campgrounds, river fronts and beaches, red wine, “lawyers, guns and money”, and a deadly boating accident.
Who are we welcomed by?
Rogers Towers, Attorneys at Law, Fischer, Tousey, Leas and Ball, yet more attornies who protect family “wealth”, Jesse Summers, C.P.A., old time, rodeo, tax preparer and the magnanimous, McMenemy, our benevolent executor.
Time and family are extrasolar. The palms stretch towards the heavens, yet are burdened by the weight of their fronds.
The here and now is all we have.
I once e-mailed my three sisters, if you care more about me than you do money, please respond.
There was no reply.
Fish Eye Farm 