1. I am now reading Joseph Mitchell ravenously. I had no idea that when skyscrapers were sprouting and new bridges were being built all over Manhattan in the early 20th century, especially the 1930s, and that members of the Mohawk tribe from the Caughnawaga Reservation made significant contributions to this construction. Furthermore, I had no idea that these workers fanned out across the country to work on other steel projects nor did I know that many families from this reservation settled in North Gowanus in Brooklyn, in a neighborhood known today as Boerum Hill. This particular Joseph Mitchell piece, "The Mohawks in High Steel" had me darting all over the World Wide Web, looking at maps, viewing historical photographs, reading articles published about the vanishing of the Mohawk people in Brooklyn. Moreover, in my mind, I tried to retrace my steps of the miles I walked back in late June and early July of 2012 in Gowanus and Carroll Gardens and Boerum Hill and Cobble Hill and Atlantic Avenue and the food I ate and the beer I enjoyed at the ChipHouse in this general area in Brooklyn. I felt caught between the deep gratitude I felt for having spent all those days in Brooklyn and a deep longing to return.
I learned a lot more from Joseph Mitchell today: about terrapin farming in Georgia on a farm near Isle of Hope, GA; about clam harvesting off of Long Island; about beefsteak banquets and the differences between East and West beefsteaks in Manhattan; about Manhattan loneliness and quiet despair as portrayed in a handful of Mitchell's short fiction stories. I have just started his fictional account of a young boy observing the local KKK in North Carolina, the state where Joseph Mitchell was born and raised.
2. The Deke and I made a quick visit to the Inland Lounge around 3:00 to say hi to Cas and Tracy and to have a little outing before we bought some groceries at Stein's. Brett came in and sat down a stool away from me at the bar and after a quick moment of making sure we recognized each other, he asked me something he asked the last time we saw each other: "You remember that time when you were in high school and I was just a little kid in the neighborhood and I found all those beers stored in Jacobs Creek in the culvert up by the high school and I was too young to drink it and I found you and told you they were up there and then a day or later or so I went back to the culvert and the beer was gone and I bet you went up there and drank it? Right? Remember?"
I didn't remember that. I know I didn't drink that beer. I only drank beer about four times during my high school years -- by the way, the first time was near that culvert in Jacobs Creek near the high school in August of 1969, but Jimmy, Windy, Hink, and I got our beer that night from Dick, the Kellogg swim team coach, but we paid for it -- we didn't drink someone else's stash.
Brett and talked more about Kellogg and his mom and dad and suddenly Brett said, "You taught the English Arts all those years, right?" "Yes I did." "Then you know Edgar Lee Masters and The Spoon River Anthology?" "I sure do." "I consider myself a Kellogg historian and that's what I want to do -- write the Kellogg version of The Spoon River Anthology. God! I love this place." Before long, the take and bake pizza Brett ordered over the phone from Yoke's was ready for him to pick up and take home to his mom and dad and it was time for the Deke and me to go buy groceries. I shook hands with Cas, said farewell, and the Deke and I left the Lounge.
3. Christy and Carol went to Moscow today. It was Moms' Weekend at the U of Idaho and my sisters joined up with Cosette and Molly and had a fun day together. The Deke and I invited Paul and Everett over for dinner. Paul texted and said he wouldn't be able to make it, but Everett joined us for a dinner expertly prepared by the Deke: stovetop grilled pork chops, a broccoli and cabbage slaw salad, beautifully sauteed zucchini, and a small glass of red wine. We had a good visit with Everett for nearly two hours before he decided it was time for him to get back with the dogs and cats next door. Not long after, Christy and Carol arrived back in Kellogg.
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