By the third weekend of the festival, while everyone is still bathing regularly there is a distinct “casual” air to the dress code. That’s why the gentleman in the pressed white shirt with the navy cotton sweater thrown over his shoulders was such an anomaly. Nice boots too.
I was looking for a seat to have a smoke when I spotted him. He had a little cigar-ette box next to him on the picnic table so I thought I’d be safe sitting there and lighting up. I asked if I might sit down, and proceeded to smoke.
We exchanged pleasantries. He’s from New York. The Bronx to be specific.
Where is the Bronx exactly, I asked as I dipped my finger in my beer and started drawing on the tabletop with my finger.
Not satisfied with my scribing materials he pulled out paper and pen and started drawing a map. It was the beginning of my weekend-long map quest.
I’ve found myself in conversations about John McPhee three times in the past month. It happened again in this conversation. The beginning of McPhee’s opus, "Annals of the Former World" finds McPhee excavating rocks under the George Washington Bridge which is at about 180th street.
In Suspect Terrain [the Easterenmost volume of the Annals] follows McPhee from the outwash plains of Brooklyn to Indiana's drifted diamonds and gold, in the company of the United States Geological Survey's Anita Harris, a Brooklyn native.So it made sense to add the “GW” bridge to the map. That’s what really started it all.
We sat at the table for a good 2 hours discussing New York geography. Slowly filling in a bunch of notable places and things. I realized later that my awareness of transportation landmarks was a result of listening to local New York traffic reports on WABC-AM radio as a child.
From the “GW” we proceeded to Central Park which is the vertical rectangle on the map. It's southern boundary is 59th Street. Moving east from the park on 59th you go over a bridge to Queens. It’s the “59th Street Bridge” of Simon and Garfunkel fame. I started humming the song as he was drawing…I don’t thing he caught the allusion.
As a note, I mis-marked the northern boundary of the park as 125th street when it's actually 110th. It took a 20 year old wunderkind from Houston to catch that mistake.
As a teenager I used to take the Erie-Lackawanna train from Summit where I grew up to Hoboken to catch the PATH subway train to Manhattan--Onto the map went Hoboken Station. The PATH went under the Hudson and then up the island a ways. The terminus was Macy’s. You got off underground and came up through their basement sort of. So Macy’s went on the map at about 34th street. Though my guide did inform me that it really stopped at Gimbel’s. I don’t remember that so I let it slide.
On and on it went. The next query was for the “Lower East Side.” It became a little arc on the Southeast end of Manhattan.
By this time we had Brooklyn filled in and Staten Island cozied up to the inlet of which Sandy Hook, NJ is the bottom edge. I’ll never forget the first time I saw the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. To a 5 year old it seemed gigantic. When it first came into view I thought you had to ride the arcs of the suspension cables to cross the water--On went the bridge, south of Manhattan, noted as “VN” on the map. Now Staten Island and Brooklyn were connected.
It wasn’t till about this point that we introduced ourselves. My cartographer’s name is Tom. He’s an Italian-American architect. The Italian part figures prominently into the second half of this story.
I was so delighted with my map that I asked Tom to autograph it and placed it reverently in my pocket. I showed it to a number of people the following day. Reveling in what will surely become a treasured entry in my scrapbook.
The following afternoon I was walking from Camp Cabana back to my camp. Which is referred to “Camp Bite Me.” I didn’t name it.
I ran across a fellow reading what looked to be an interesting book by Harriet Ruben called, "Dante In Love: The World's Greatest Poem and how it made history".
I stopped to inquire and low and behold-here was another NY Italian. Of about the same vintage as Tom of the night before.
I ran and got my map. We puzzled over it while sitting on someone’s giant cooler in the shade.
Where’s the Lincoln Tunnel? I remembered being driven through it as a child but didn’t have a clue. As it turns out one end is a bit north of Hoboken in New Jersey and you’re debouched just south of Central Park around 50th street. It’s a bit vague on the map but it’s there.
So how about the Holland Tunnel? It’s south of the Lincoln Tunnel and you appear to end up around Wall Street.
From there the Tri -Borough Bridge followed. Leaving Manhattan around 125th street you take the bridge East to Randall’s Island. There it splits. You can veer South and go to Queens or go north to The Bronx. If you continue driving North after getting off the bridge you ultimately catch the Cross Bronx Expressway which is the land bound continuation of the “GW” bridge where all this started.
Justin, my second Cartographer lives in San Antonio and hasn’t resided in NY in 40 years. But he was wonderfully helpful. I guess you never forget the precincts of your youth.
He, as well as Tom are both Catholic School alums. After the 10th Catholic School story I was determined to meet the two up. Unfortunately that was a lot easier said than done.
I was up in the theatre that night and ran into Justin, who is an ice-cream guy by trade. How cool is that? After I saw him I set out to find Tom. That took a bit as he was in yet another clean shirt and it wasn’t white.
I finally found him at one of the picnic tables. I proudly unfolded my augmented map and told him about Justin. I guess I assumed they should know each other. Hell, they’re about the same age, both went to Catholic School in New York and they’re both Italian.
Thus began my two hour search for Justin. I was bound and determined to get these two together as Justin, after hearing about Tom, guessed that there would be fewer than four degrees of separation between them.
Once Justin was found it took less than a minute for the two of them to compare high schools and neighborhoods. They were off to the races. One story followed another and I missed the rest of the music on the stage being in the thrall of two great raconteurs.
It took about 90 minutes but on the walk back to camp Tom finally came up with the name of the guy he had gone to college with who had gone to Justin’s high school. Sure enough there was the connection. And it was only ONE degree!
I’m writing this the following afternoon after leaving them on the road, still swapping stories. They may be there still for all I know.
And as for me, I’ve got this really cool map of the Greater New York area. And in case I ever go back to New York I won’t be lost.
Here's the full map. If you click on the map it will open in a new window and be way bigger. In case you want to check the details.
fabulous map and a great story!
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