My grandfather James, escaped Rhode Island and the quarry he grew up in because of the Army, maybe. Born in 1896, it could have been that or the pandemic that killed his father and a sibling, that set him free.

         We know he was quite a wealthy man after prohibition, and had not lived in Rhode Island for decades. The twenties were very good to him, and the depression did not  dent him either. 

          What we don’t know is what he did, exactly. I have ideas. I have ideas about prohibition and freedom. I have an idea that my family was opposed to prohibition, and not afraid to get dirty either. I can only guess. 

          The coast  I know...was not Newport. The people who came here were not pilgrims. Newport was exclusive. Long Branch was just the opposite. Long before the MIC arrived the people did. Rich people...from all over the world. 

           Grant was almost a God in Long Branch. The good times rolled in a way the world had never seen. Money, and all the amusement that money could afford found Long Branch, and the restorative sea breeze that cooled the bluff every summer. It was not Newport. 

         

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Comment by J.P. Hart on November 20, 2018 at 12:28pm

IF this cold snip persists, i'm teleporting to Tel Aviv for the tilapia - hoi! RBJ: moe-bill-moi - weather's good there in the fall, no? I am this close to etching that AmEX deal on Afterthought, LLC 's 'plastic combo' vape card.

Eclectic aside: (mileage): Tuscany slash Milwaukee 7463 km

and now with 'nough patience I'll be able to expand Finnegan's Wake to really keep the bookbinders 'full speed ahead' with use of the neat N Gram wherein every word expands (get it? three dots and a cot in the wilderness) and sure, sure: one obscenely thick book...

Here, here! Dally, dally! Diamond plate covers. A must ramble gamble 'have' for Christmas MMXXI!

Comment by Robert B. James on November 20, 2018 at 11:41pm

JP...the Mushroom Farm, I think I was there once...In the summer. Never been to Tel Aviv...Tunisia, yes...and no Fez! You need a big book to bury them Finnegans. They breed like flies. Fine China, no gold plate silverware. Tuscany...nope, Siciliano yes.  Big poles, little fish...no tomato. Thanks for everything! 

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