REMEMBER, YOU HAVE PEOPLE HERE. Pt. 1 of 4

Pt. 1

I first visited Washington, D.C. and New York City, New York in 1967; as the result of my high school senior trip. I, subsequently, lived and worked near Washington, D.C., but it could be said that my visit to NYC was “the trip of a lifetime;” (unless, of course, I manage to make it back there again. If so, I will be forced to characterize it as a different kind of “senior trip”).

I admit to a couple of ancient and modern connections, respectively, to New York. (The state not the city). You see, my 2x great Grandfather spent a little time in the prison which once “graced” the fair city of Elmira. As a transplanted Yankee “born and bred” in Maine, he’d taken up residence in Georgia before the war. Finding himself in the midst of the Confederate States of America, he was compelled to fight for a country and cause which it is doubtful he supported. Ultimately, old Isaac R. was captured and spent the duration of the conflict in an 8x10 cell. (I can only imagine how popular he must have been among the Union prison guards; every time he opened his mouth and that Maine accent rose to the fore).

A century and a half later my wife and I celebrated our 25^th wedding anniversary, and we chose to celebrate it in Niagara Falls, NY (and) Niagara Falls, Canada. Need I mention, it was an absolutely wonderful visit, and one which we will never forget.

Much has changed about New York City since I drove its streets and walked its sidewalks. Not the least of which, the property surrounding the World Trade Center. For you see, in the late 60’s not even the foundation of those massive buildings had been laid in place. And, of course, who will ever forget the infamous day in September, 2001 when this same location was laid almost as bare as it had been when I first visited the city. Of course, an impressive, new building has recently climbed its way upwards to the remarkable height of 1776 feet; perhaps the most significant number in our young democracy.

From that time to this very moment, I have maintained an almost ethereal connection to “The Big City.”

For you see, within a scant five years of my graduation I met him. Luis Pagan. Luis was a private in the Marine Corps and stationed at Quantico, Virginia. I was an Air Force reservist at the time, the young Marine attended church with my wife and me, and our military background and Christian profession became the rich loom of a close-knit friendship between us. Before we moved from Virginia to Alabama, however, Luis received orders for Japan. I have often attempted to remember from whence location in NYC the young man sprang, but to no avail.

All I can tell you now is we have long since lost contact with one another, and I am sorry for it. At this juncture, Luis would be almost as old as me, (and hopefully as content with the life he has lived).

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 54. Copyright pending

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