The 12th day of the tenth month of the year of Emergence

MINDING THE ROOTS AT TAVERN CREEK-6

I emerge from the creek into the flats between the two islands.  An area protected from the wind and tide, and realize it is a location of thought.  You know those places. 

A place where nature and the human mind careen into place and introspection comes barging into the frontal lobes.  I equate this morning to another spent many years later on Lake Winnepasaukee in a canoe.

You're all alone, not a ripple of  humanity.  And your mind wanders.  In this case to all the properties my parents owned on Gratitude and a childhood so idyllic.  Until I pass between the island this morning, I will have the opportunity to drift pieces of crab for small or pan sized stripe bass and white perch.  The water isn't over my waist for almost a square mile and the drift will be slow, so my mind can wander.

My dad wasn't rich by today's standards, but he worked hard, got ahead, and invested wisely.  I just wish he had taken me in tow in these regards, but water over the dam.  His investments were, other than a few stocks, in properties he bought and fixed up.  Living in them for a year or so and then turning them over.  He was a flipper way before reality TV became popular.  Along the way my sister and I were blessed to grow up in a couple of amazing places.  Gratitude being one of them.

He bought at Gratitude because this area along with Rock Hall were the launching pads for a number of fishing trips on the bay during his first job after college.  He graduated from Penn State in the early 30's and worked for the Interstate Milk Producers before ultimately becoming president of the Dairy Farm Products Division of the Borden Company in New York City.  He was going back to his roots so to speak in Gratitude.

The first place he bought was Miss Lotty Strong's place and we lived there during the summers.  I of course spent the summer there and was in charge of chores...Dad worked all week long and came down on weekends.

These are old photos taken by either my father or myself.  Not so great, but from an historical prospective are accurate descriptions of the area back in the day.  Double click for full screen.

During the fall and winter days, the house next door would take in borders for the weekend goose and duck hunting seasons.  Now, if my own experiences are any proof, the hunters could get rather rowdy in the evenings.  Of course we would all want to be sleeping at that time and it was really exciting to see the town's only policeman arrive next door with lights flashing at 2:00 AM.  So, Dad decided to buy the place and put an end to all "My rowdy friends".

That first summer, it was my job to paint the interior of the place.  Thirteen bedrooms, two parlors or living rooms, a commercial kitchen and dinning room.  This was hell for a teenager who only wanted to be on the water all the time.  But, we got er done.  Two hundred and thirty gallons of paint if I recall accurately.

Both of these two places were across Lawton Avenue from the water proper and he finally was able to purchase an old sea shanty shack type place across the street.  The original house consisted of three rooms straight from street to water.  We cleaned out the place by paying (donating) the fire company a couple of hundred bucks to bring a truck and turn the high pressure hoses in the front door and blowing everything out the back.  The back of the boarding house which I painted became part of the new place.  Rather than pay the telephone/electric  company's to take down the wires on the street, we cut the house in half, dropped the second floor onto the first, ducked the whole thing under the wires, and rebuilt it as an addition on the new place.  That's the section you see to the right in the following photo.

The bay window on the first floor in the building to the right (the living room) was taken from a demolition site Dad passed in New York City on his way to work.  It came from an old bar and had decorations etched into the glass with a black and gold sign painted in the lower corner with "Ladies Invited".  He bought it for five bucks and had to drive into the city to pick it up.  It made it all the way to Maryland in the back seat of his car that weekend.

The place is now been sold and is for some unfathomable reason is called "Silly Manor".  He sold this place and moved his summer residence to Chestertown, Maryland when he underwent a series of heart attacks and by-pass surgery.  He was probably one of the first five hundred in the world to have such surgery.  He wanted to be closer to the hospital.  He passed away a few years later, the victim of a head on crash driving from New Jersey to his beloved Gratitude.