Showing posts with label Palisades. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Palisades. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

The Happy Valley




Rockland has always been hard for me to describe. It's north of the city without being considered "upstate", which is how native New Yorkers refer to the vast area outside of the tri-state metropolitan area. Nor is it traditionally "the 'burbs", like the much more convenient and easily accessible "bedroom communities" of northern New Jersey, Long Island, Connecticut, or Westchester; all within reach of mass transit connected to the city. I would say: "Well, you take the West Side Highway north to the exit for the GWB (George Washington Bridge), then stay in the right lane until you diverge onto the Palisades (Palisades Interstate Parkway). You go through New Jersey for a bit until the pavement changes. Then, you're in Rockland."

In this century, there's a sign that lets you know you're in New York State once again, (because the road follows the contours of the mighty Hudson River and its imposing bank of cliffs we call "palisades"), and through the state of New Jersey. There are no billboards or advertisements of any kind, and there never will be, because the highway is on federally protected land. You may thank President Theodore Roosevelt for that. It will also never be a commercial thoroughfare, because of the high amount of old stone overpasses that would knock the block off of any trucks or buses that missed a couple of small signs in warning of such a thing. And that's on a clear day.

At night, when the weather is rainy and the Hudson churns out a massive fog bank thicker than any smoke you've ever seen, there are no lights to guide you through the dips, twists, and turns the dark road takes. Federal parks prohibit the use of street lights to protect the land and the animals living there, but not any humans driving carelessly in the middle of the darkest night they never drove in before. Lost, yet? Good! Try this one on for size, as a common question Rocklanders are often asked: so, how do you commute to the city without taking a car? So glad you asked!

I can drive to a parking lot (or walk a mile to a bus stop that may or may not be marked), where I wait for the a New Jersey Transit train that makes me transfer through Seacacus Junction for another train that'll take me into the city (or I wait for the weekday-only commuter buses that go through Jersey's Lincoln Tunnel under the Hudson River to the Port Authority bus terminal), and that's only if it's weather-permitting on a workday during the week, with no transit strikes or retaliations by New Jersey for some New York-related offense that is totally geo-political, like the snafu that closed the GWB access roads for awhile, barring any other type of construction work that might be happening across any of the major NY-NJ conduits. 

Or, you could drive in-and-out of the city every day of your work life until you either retire or die first, and good luck with the cost increases of gas, tolls, parking lot fees, car insurance, and car maintenance. Lost, again? Good! Try fitting that into any casual conversation with some freaked-out office worker from anywhere else, competing and struggling in the biggest and most expensive American city we have, after their third or fourth drink, because even native New Yorkers from the city get glassy-eyed over it. And that's just the way we like it. Welcome to "The Happy Valley", one of the most beautiful spots in the entire lower Hudson Valley region. You made it! Now, go get yourself a drink. You earned it. But don't drive there. The state police are everywhere! Got ya!


https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hudson_Valley#


Friday, April 22, 2016

More


3 years, 10 months, and 19 days... That's what a woman buried on Mount Moor had lovingly carved into the tombstone for her child. "That's a mama who loved her baby", I said to my brother in passing. We read off their names, dates, and military service as we walked around the small grounds, hemmed in on every side by a new mall and its parking lots, in an area of Rockland County that was swampland when we were growing up here. There was actually nothing to see on the road from Nanuet to Nyack, but for this hidden little gem of a cemetery tucked into boggy marshland nobody else wanted, as fitting a historical tribute to segregation for ethnic minorities as ever.

Acadians, Cajuns, and Creoles shared the same fate, too. Bayou water is considered "bad" water, because mosquitoes give sickness to the people forced to live there. What the new laws couldn't wipe off the face of the earth, nature certainly could. It was an economical way to get rid of a despised people (often better than the European colonists around them who couldn't acclimate to this new place, similar as it is in climate to Europe, but that wasn't the real problem) through deliberate marginalization and severe economic poverty, except for one powerfully overlooked fact, and that was this: already-oppressed minorities often bond with similarly afflicted tribes, and so we did.

What was once a power play among the socio-economic elite, based on their weirdly outdated prejudices against "interbreeding", allowed our ancestors the relative freedom of marrying whoever they choose, which often meant mating with the much greater genetic stability present in the indigenous people who walked their way here, carrying their culture and robust good health with them. And so, it backfired against the minority elite horribly, which only angered the white man even more. We saw name after name of a people who lived over 80 years and more, way before modern medicine was available to them.

Unfortunately, their children didn't fare better. We saw a lot of markers and smaller headstones with one date etched simply into the stone, as places to memorialize their still-born babies before a naming ceremony could take place. I'd passed by the small cemetery many times, always rushing to make an errand on someone else's time, but this time, my brother went along with whatever I wanted. I priced out a few items in the bloated mall that are completely overpriced for this land and its economy, and we both left empty-handed, to visit my grandparents at their resting place. It only seemed fitting.

We were baffled by the overly ornate constructions of chain restaurants that we know are no good, wondering aloud how any amount of business could sustain such an obvious waste of space. Most of the square footage was blown on bad plastic decorations serving one purpose: to attract the eye of someone who'd obviously never been to a mall before, which is totally out-of-date for the area. I can't imagine that this "new" mall will up stay for very long, and that's a comfort to me, too. Long after these stores (with their cheap shoddy merchandise) will be plowed underground, our ancestors will still reside in relative peace, nestled in a little hillside that overlooks the real Palisades of Rockland, with their beautifully rocky facades. Happy Earth Day, 2016.