P.S. I Still Wait For You

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Do you share in the romance of reading old postcards? Do you remember writing some? Letters? My discernment tells me that one day we’ll return to such arts!

Stamped: Savannah, GA Sept 27th, 1915 – 4 PM

Written To: (Norman Crane – 6 Pickering St. Roxbury, MA)

“Am at last on my way home – much to my regret – and expect to reach Boston Friday. Left Atlanta last night (Sunday) reached Savannah at 7:30 AM and sail at 4:30 this afternoon. This surely is a quaint old town and we have had a great time seeing the sights and shopping all morning. Spect’ I will be sea sick tomorrow.”(Hazel)

Poor Hazel was in such a hurry she put the George Washington 1 Cent on upside down! Presumably, when “Hazel” says she’d gotten from Atlanta to Savannah over a period of 8-10 hours, she was referring to the railroad and was somewhat leery of boarding a boat for home which may have included other ports over several predicted days. She was in luck as in 1915, a more direct railway from Atlanta to Savannah was more or less, operational.

As the Savannah River wasn’t deepened for another 2 years to accommodate larger vessels, Hazel may have left from Thunderbolt Marina just up from Bonaventure or perhaps closer to Cockspur or Tybee Island which may have involved a ride on The Tybrisa Railway which had a stop at Bonaventure Cemetery and is how she came across the postcard sent to Norman. Just guessing but makes for fun guessing! We don’t really know that she even went to the cemetery at all. All the same, as larger sea voyaging passenger ships were unable to come up the river largely until after 1945, Hazel possibly sailed home on a smaller steamer vessel hugging the coastline a little more closely which would’ve taken some days. Hopefully Hazel did more shopping!

Hazel may’ve been “sea sick” on a boat much like this one.

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A lot of men in Roxbury worked at the Fore River Shipyard. Perhaps Norman himself did. Norman Crane died in 1976 and belongs to one of the columbarium shelves in the beautiful stone crematorium building at Harmony Grove Cemetery in Salem, MA. And lucky him as it is quite small and guessing he purchased his spot early enough in life as cremation was only just gaining traction in America. His “Hazel” is unknown but may have been a sister or a “gal pal.” It doesn’t appear that he married or had children, his birthday is unknown. In truth, this post was just inspired by some bare-bone discovery and I welcome anyone wanting to comment who makes some fun of their own with filling in the blanks. His home on the dead-end street of today (probably changed mid or later 20th century), is a family home with 3 bedrooms and may have been the home he grew up in or came back to and certainly feel there’s a whole back story, many more chapters to that along with “Norman & Hazel’s” connection. I for one, am left wondering – did Norman read the postcard with gladness in the very foyer pictured, or did he lean on the marble fireplace while smoking a pipe as Fall weather surrounded him or just simply sat on the porch putting the postcard to his nose trying to catch Hazel’s perfume and thought how he might like to see this place called Savannah and Bonaventure together one day? Yes, maybe they went back together. Norman took her shopping and they bought more postcards. Ah, the romance of old postcards – Such sweet, vexing intimacy all done with a pen, a postage stamp and true thoughts and feelings!

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Rose Hill Runabout!

by Shannon Scott (C) 2015

(Click to Hear Shannon Read This Poem In Character)

I don’t care about anything out there!
I don’t care about the pitch fever traffic or the unkindly stares!
I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, Don’t care, Don’t care, Don’t care!
I’m happy right here where the dead people sleep!

Rose Hill is my pasture and I’m its happy sheep!
There are slopes to run & stone bridges to leap!
Wildflowers growing and grass beneath my feet feet feet!
Grave markers to read and new dead people I need to meet!

I don’t have time for you old world of the living!
You might be driven but you sure ain’t livin!
There’s no peace out there or rest for the wicked!
Stress is your game and your spirits are constricted!
You won’t be my misery and I won’t be your convicted!
Here in this place I’m one with me and stay uplifted!

What’s that you say? You say you laughing at me?
That’s okay because in here you’ll soon be.
Away from all of that out there where you ain’t free.
You just can’t see, can’t see, can’t see.

So you go about your business, hustle and dread.
I’ma roam round here awhile, where you think its dead.
Might even move in, I’m so partial to this stead.
Lie down for awhile, take in the cool earth ‘neath my head.
Listen to the river roll by and the train on the tracks too.
I’m home in here with the breeze and the quiet.
Not out there with you in that life laugh riot.