The Nostalgia Tour

In the great film "Field of Dreams," the James Earl Jones character delivers a beautiful speech about the nostalgic power of baseball. He says, "Baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good, and could be again...People will come, Ray. People will most definitely come." As I get older and the balance between "good old days" from the past and great days that await me in the future is tipping noticeably toward the former, I find that there are places from all of my former lives that are particularly rife with the sweet sadness of nostalgia.

The photo above is one of them.

It is the beach at "X" Street in Hull, MA. I visited a fine old friend there recently during my travels in New England. Admittedly, this tiny piece of the North Atlantic is not much as far as beaches go. The water is cold, usually right up to Labor Day, the rocks make walking difficult, the water color and clarity are frankly not the measure of my beautiful Navarre Beach in Florida (at least they weren't until the BP disaster); nevertheless, the memories that enveloped me when I walked up to that beach and visited the old house just before it were thick and warm, like a perfect handmade quilt.

Ada and I spent many wonderful days and nights at that house and on that beach. We were 15 or 16, in love or what passes for love at that age, surrounded by friends and The Friedmans, the very welcoming and wonderful family who "took us in" for several summers when we were finishing up high school and getting ready to go off to college.

Ada was good friends with the Friedmans' daughter, Harrie. Harrie's wonderful younger sister, Marcy, was also living there as were Pearl and Dave, Harrie's remarkable parents. Imagine having the patience, to say nothing of the generosity, to host a group of know-it-all, wiseguy teenagers day after day for several summers. The food bill alone would be enough to make you want to board the place up and never come back. But Pearl and Dave welcomed us and, even more remarkably, valued us, engaged us in conversation, sought our opinions, challenged us to think, laughed with and at us, provided me with huge quantities of aged salami, and, most of all, taught us by their wonderful example. Idyllic doesn't even come close to describing how I feel when I think back to those summer days at X Street. Marcy, a magnificent singer and musician who is based in New York City, has kept the house up all these years and manages to spend some time there with Harrie and family each summer, renting it out the rest of the year. When I approached the house recently to catch up with Marcy, I could literally feel 45 years slip away. I was sitting in a place that FORMED me. I am who and what I am partly because of that house, that beach, and that family. It was a powerful moment, especially because the person I shared those days with is no longer by my side. Bittersweet for sure.

Here is a partial list of some of the stuff that happened at that wonderful old house:

1. Ada, under the tutelage of Pearl, became one of the world's most vicious Scrabble players. She almost never lost and took great pride in her ability to make me crazy with her defensive tactics.

2. Also under Pearl's gentle coaxing, I discovered the remarkable beauty in a Louis Armstrong solo or an Ella Fitzgerald ballad. There was always music in that house and it was beautiful, powerful music. I have loved it ever since. I am happy to say that I have passed this love on to my children and grandchildren.

3. I found out I could make adults laugh. Pearl and Dave helped me develop and tweak my sense of humor to the point where I was not afraid to throw my two cents into adult conversations. My ideas and thoughts, no matter how lame, were always treated with respect. I'm quite sure that this remarkable example served me in very good stead during my 31 years in a junior high classroom.

As is the custom, when I visit Ada's grave for the unveiling, I will be placing several stones on her marker. One of them will come from the beach at X Street, a place where we grew up, loved each other, and became who we were.

Some day in the near future I hope Kate and I can visit this and other New England places that provide me with such warm feelings of nostalgia. I hope she likes who I was.

Ain't life grand?

Love to you all,
J