Secrets

  I decided yesterday to post a trivia question to my Facebook page. The winner receives a chicken design pot holder crocheted by my wife. I had a winner rather quickly and the chicken will be flying the coop today. The trivia question was about a place I remember. It was somewhere that was rather mysterious to me as a kid. There was this long dirt road leading into the woods that had a sign nailed to a tree alongside saying, private property, trespassers will be prosecuted! Now this being in the late 50's and early 60's that stuff was taken seriously. You didn't go trespassing on anyone's property. If there wasn't a sign it felt like it was fair game to wander wherever you wanted until you saw a sign saying otherwise. I roamed the woods behind my home freely, but that road was off limits. Well, until the day came when I worked up the courage, the nerve to trespass. I just had to find out where that road led. I ventured down that lane, staying close to the woods in case I needed to duck into the brush for cover. I don't remember ever seeing a car or truck go down that lane, that added to the mystery, but the lane was clearly used, or at least had been long enough to leave those ruts. I felt like a spy! I reached the end of the road and there was a house and a small barn. I don't know what I expected to see but remember being disappointed. I snuck back home confident I hadn't been seen by anyone. Later I learned the name of that place was Dominy's point, named for Nathaniel Dominy the man who first built a home there. I could plainly see the place from a boat and in fact went clamming right off that shore on many occasions. 

 There are places like that in every town and neighborhood. Little out of the way spots that some know about and keep as a secret. Usually, it is only a secret place to the one thinking it is a secret, others know about it but keep that a secret. Where I grew up there were a few places like that to me. Just secret little spots that held a fascination for me, a place where I could go that I felt like no one else knew about. Of course, that is in the mind of a child anyway. The woods behind my house I thought of as a forest, full of dark spaces and mystery. The reality was quite different. All that changes over time. The world does become a much smaller place. As I have traveled and lived in various locations, I have discovered those little spots. I've even had some spots shared with me as I formed a friendship. That secret knowledge knits you closer to the community. It can be found not only in the knowledge of places but in the terms/names used to describe those places. I learned that right here in Greensboro in years past a certain spot was called four corners. You don't hear anyone using that today and I only heard it from a very old resident. He had lived his entire life here. I've only lived here about twenty four years or so. But I will say, do you remember where the scapple factory was. There are many that simply don't know anymore. I know where the Pet Milk company used to be, and the Cupid ice cream factory, all long gone. But knowing that somehow makes me feel more connected to the town. Knowing the places that used to be.

 It is something I have always been aware of, this feeling of belonging. Maybe it stemmed from my childhood where the outsiders were looked upon with disdain. Yes, we relied on those outsiders to spend their money in our town during the summer months, we relied upon those tourist dollars, but we didn't like it. Oh, some felt it was cool to know these semi-famous, famous or just plain wealthy folks. They were the one that attempted to attach themselves to those people in some fashion. They feeling like it increased their status or social standing. On my side of town, we looked upon that with scorn. The wannabe's. I'm aware that I will never be a native of Greensboro. I may live long enough to be an older resident, some would say I'm already old, but my point is I'll never be a native of Greensboro. 

 At the same time, I feel like I am where I am supposed to be. It isn't a place I ever thought I would be. I just came in with the tide. That's how I see it. I joined the Navy in 1971 and came ashore in 1993 at Greensboro, Md. I expect this is where I will be staying. My final resting place is going to be Hurlock Md. That's the location of the veteran's cemetery. I can't reserve a spot, but there is one waiting for me anyway. It's just a simple fact, nothing to be concerned about. I understand now why the old people used to talk about such things. It wasn't a plan, it is an eventuality. My voyage isn't over yet. Some folks have clever little sayings or sentiments engraved in their stone. I'm thinking I may borrow one I heard many years ago, "it was a damn fine sail" It's a sentiment I share. Another bit of trivia, where is that recorded, what book can you find that in? Very few would know I'm thinking. It's a secret.