Friday, August 7, 2015

Rusty Cable Wire


It is good to remember what was, learn from it and continue moving forward.

There it was, treetop height above my head, an old rusty cable wire stretched from one side of the river bank to the other.  It hung in the air like a well loved memory, begging for its story to be told.  So, here goes.
  
Just the other week my family and I went to a picnic on the Lehigh River, about seven walking miles from Easton.  It was there that we were generously offered the opportunity to take a speed boat tour of the river,  As my wife and two girls were enjoying the ride we drove under a strange, rusty cable wire.  So, my wife asked the driver what it was dangling ominously over our heads.  He replied that it was the only remaining object left from a onetime amusement park called Island Park that had been abandoned years ago.

Island Park, located near Easton, Pennsylvania is a fascinating story.  Built in 1894 it was a quaint little amusement park that captured the early twentieth century imagination. It was quite the charming amusement park for its day.  A trolley company built the park on an island, spanning up to 100 acres.  To get to the park the trolleys would run from Easton, then along the scenic Lehigh river and then finally over a trestle onto the island.

The park’s notable rides consisted of a roller coaster, merry-go round, Ferris wheel, and a miniature Black Diamond train.  There was also a dance pavilion, picnic grooves as well and an outdoor amphitheater, where John Philip Sousa performed on more than one occasion.  Quite the place for the young and old alike to relax and enjoy a little bit of heaven for a day.

Sadly, the ill-conceived park gave way to Mother Nature when numerous ice flows during the winters decimated the trolley trestle more than once.  Consequently, in 1919 the park had its last season and then closed selling off all their rides. Hard to believe something so wonderful had an expiration date, but life is funny that way.

As we continued cruising on our boat ride, it seemed sad that what sounded like a  once magical place now lay hidden by an over gown mass of greenery.  As if had never been inhabited at all. A tree shrouded island with secrets waiting to be told had fallen victim to here today and gone tomorrow.
 
All of us, like Island Park, follow this premise: we are created, we exist, and then we ultimately meet our end.   Which leads me to this major burning question - will you leave a lasting impression with your life?

May all our lives be remembered for more than just a rusty cable wire.   

Swavel

Author’s Note: Information about Island Park was taken form an article in the Morning Call written  on Sept 11th, 1994 by Denise Reaman

 

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