Reaching Back

Well, another Mother's Day has come and gone. Busy as it was, it all worked out in the end. Once again, I can breathe deep.

I did not get the chance to take my head out of the oven much yesterday, so I missed a good chunk of the weather. But the clouds.. Oh the clouds...

Easy to see why those who travelled down the Wagon Road (roughly Rt. 11, with less traffic) came to a screeching halt here in Roanoke.

It's not so very hard to imagine, you just need to remove every building downtown, every home.. just pristine land (and buffalo).

When Im writing about a location (as Im doing now, update to the site launches tomorrow morning), I tend to travel back to when there was nothing there. Then slowly, my mind moves the image forward as I try and figure "why there?"

Doing the series (slated for launch this summer) on the west side of Downtown, west of the courthouse and all that, should give my imagination a workout. There's more to the story than you realize, unrecorded things. What seemed to be part of life back then, the day to day, would probably amaze us now.

I remember hearing one story of a recent Irish immigrant (1884), fresh from work at the N&W shops and paycheck in hand, bought some of the "good ould stuff" at a greengrocer on Salem Ave. He walked over to Campbell Ave. where he promptly took a fish from a market, tied it to a string and sat fishing in a mudpuddle. Each time a coach passed, he would pull the fish out of the puddle and hoot with excitement.

Well, needless to say, this attracted the eye of the law. When asked by the officer, the Irishman offered up this explanation: "This is the best fishing hole around, these streets being so muddy and all, all you have to do is dip your line in and you catch one."

The officer was not amused, and threatened to take the Irishman in. At which point the Irishman offered this; "If you can beat me in a fair fight, I'll go willingly."

The officer and the Irishman walked around the corner to a nearby alley, where the officer took off his jacket and the two engaged in a fair fight. After 20 minutes or so, both men decided it was a draw, and the officer put his jacket back on and told the Irishman not to be caught fishing without a license again. They both laughed, and went their merry ways. There are no more recorded incidents of this particular gent being picked up (or fought), and no mention of the police officer facing reprecussions from this.

But that was the Old Roanoke.. a time long passed, before the pettiness of Victory Stadium, the confusion on the part of the City Leaders to steer the city towards progress..

Back when reason and common sense were allowed.

Although it does leave me with one question: Why is this city so afraid to compete? Terrified of competition, they settle for what they allready have rather than attempt to improve it. If you have an idea, I'd be happy to hear it.