Long Bridge Runner

Chapter 66-Kimberly on Cape Cod

Copyright 1995
By David Rojay

THE LONG BRIDGE RUNNER
Book One/THE MIDWEST

The Railroad Bridge was the first thing they saw and they couldn't tell what it was-two steel towers capped by medieval spires stood over one hundred feet high and were connected by a bridge that made the whole thing look like something out of a fairy tale. The Canal that the structure crossed was as wide as the Ohio River.

"What are they going to do with that?" Kimberly asked the porter.

"They'll lower it, mam, so that we may ride it across the Canal," he paused before saying, "as soon as the freighter passes.

"The freighter?" said Kimberly with amazement.

"Right out that window, mam."

Kimberly and Gurion stared in disbelief; a large ship flying the Union Jack passed not more than three hundred feet from where they sat-thus, Cape Cod.

Dr. Frankel met them at the Hyannis Train Station and immediately drove across the street in his car to Bradford's Hardware. He stopped in the rear parking lot and said, "This is our Synagogue. We meet upstairs on Shabbat if we can put together a minion*. If not, we have Oneg Shabbat** early. By the way, the ladies hereabouts are great bakers so Oneg Shabbat offers every kind of pastry imaginable along with coffee and wine, of course."
"Manischewitz?" asked Kimberly.

Her question elicited a smile and Dr. Frankel said, "Not always, but it's always wine that's pareve***."

It was late afternoon when they arrived and they drove out Ocean Street past the Harbor in the blue light of dusk. Kimberly was enthralled by the fishing fleet at anchor. The angle of light from the west made it a scene worthy of a painting. Some distance beyond the harbor was a small park with its own beach.

"During the War, this was Camp Howe and in the summer time this beach was full of soldiers lying about, wading and swimming. Curiously enough, some of our young ladies ended up here too."

Once again, Kimberly felt that she was admiring a painting. The bay was as still as bathwater and was bathed in a glowing blue-green color that made it look iridescent.

Next they turned onto Gosnold which Dr. Frankel explained was named for one Captain Gosnold-the English seafarer who named Martha's Vineyard after his daughter Martha and the Elizabeth Islands after his daughter, Elizabeth.

Pulling into Keyes Beach, Dr. Frankel went on to explain that Gosnold had fished the Cape waters many years before the Pilgrims landed in Plymouth. "Much of what Americans are taught in history class is incorrect. Gosnold used Indian labor on his ships and some of these Indians even went back to England with him. That's why the Wampanoags**** were so welcoming to the Pilgrims. One of them spoke quite good English, having lived in England for several years but the real reason Gosnold was in these parts was to catch cod. That's why this place is called Cape Cod."

"Why would the Captain come all this way to fish for cod?" asked Kimberly.

"I'll answer that question in just a moment," said Frankel, "but first, that's the Kennedy Complex over there where all the lights are. Do you see the big house out on the point, the one with lights in every window? If you look hard enough you can see the flagpole and a flag on it."

The name "Kennedy" meant nothing to Gurion so Frankel went back to the subject of Gosnold. "You see, during the age of exploration, the navigatory powers-the English, the French, the Dutch, the Spanish and especially the Portuguese-set out on long sea journeys carrying on board their ships hardtack or salt port for food. The problem was, these items went bad after a few weeks and then the English discovered that codfish, if dried properly, could last for many months. This changed the exploration dynamic, gave the English a big advantage initially and made cod one of the most valuable resources; it was like gold, and out in the Atlantic about sixty miles from here, is an area called Georgia's Bank. There's a plateau, a short depth under the sea; it's the richest fishing grounds in the world. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lecture."

But Gurion and Kimberly both loved Frankel's little speech and they both like Frankel very much. The drive past Hyannis Port came with the standard information.

"You may have read about PT-109; it was one of the Kennedy boys, named John, who commandeered the boat; and it was cut in two by a Japanese Destroyer," said Frankel. "Of course, you know that the father, Joe Kennedy, was Ambassador to the Court of St. James; but his pro-German sympathies got him recalled."

"Pro-German?" said Gurion.

"Yes, but he has a fine family, lost his oldest son in the War."

Kimberly felt that there was much more to know about the Kennedys but she did not pursue the subject.
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Frankel's home was in West Hyannis Port, on Third Avenue near the water, an imposing house with a gazebo in the side yard.
Ruth Frankel was the soul of hospitality. "I'm from Atlanta," she said, "and I've never gotten used to this cold, cold place."

But the house was warmed by a crackling fire, Yankee pot roast was served for dinner but not before an offering of clam chowder.

"It's delicious," said Gurion; and Kimberly liked it so much she was tempted to ask for seconds.

"You don't have that in Illinois, do you?" asked Ruth, "It needs fresh clams."

"And we don't have these either," said Gurion motioning to a bowl of stewed cranberries.

"We eat them at Thanksgiving," said Kimberly, "but only as a canned sauce."

"Well, they're a very good tonic for the urinary tract," said Frankel
"And as a juice," said Ruth, "we'll have some for breakfast.

And so it went until brandy was poured. Suddenly flashing red lights could be seen on the street. Everyone ran to the windows to see a fire truck disengorging firemen.

"What's going on?" asked Kimberly.

"It's that house across the street, the people are in Florida and this is the second time the Fire Department has been over there since Thanksgiving."

"There's Glen," said Ruth.

"Yeah, that's Glen," said Frankel, "this guy knows all about lobsters; it's amazing what he can tell you about lobsters. He's from Maine and that's real lobster country up there."

"You know I've never seen a lobster up close," said Kimberly.

"We're gonna have to take you to Joe's Lobsters and let you hold one then we'll bring it home and cook it."

Kimberly felt a shiver course through her body at the thought of this.

"You know he was at Omaha Beach," said Frankel.

"You mean the Normandy Landings?" asked Gurion.

"That's right. He's a bona fide local hero but he gets embarrassed if you bring up the subject."

"That's right," said Ruth, "he's a very nice man; he's gonna be Fire Chief some day, I betcha."

Kimberly strained to see the subject of these remarks. He was tall, thin and handsome-just what a New Englander was supposed to look like.

They were up early the next morning drinking cranberry juice as promised. After a good night's sleep by the sea; a sea they were unaware of until they saw it in morning light, Kimberly ate a fulsome breakfast. Then, stepping outside, she remarked as to how warm it was. "Isn't this the end of December?" she asked.

"It's the water," said Frankel, "the Cape is completely surrounded by water like an island and it moderates the temperature."

"Also, the Gulf Stream flows up past Nantucket Island," added Ruth, "and brings warm water up from the Caribbean."

"But, if you look at a map," said Kimberly, "this is so much further north than Illinois, at least our part of Illinois."

"And today," said Gurion, "it's much warmer than our part of Illinois.

Kimberly was given the option of not going on the hospital tour but she was very curious. She had never been in a hospital before, a fact that seemed strange to Ruth and Dr. Frankel; but in the end, she was glad she had come along because when she saw her husband in the Children's Ward, she saw a side of him she had never seen. The way he talked to the children and touched them with so much love and care in his eyes moved her to tears. Of course, she could only see into the rooms through glass windows and open doors but by the end of Frankel's rounds she had an entirely new feeling for her husband.

Ruth joined them at the Asa Bearse House for lunch. It was clam chowder again and delicious portions of baked scrod. They crossed the street to Puritan's Clothing, part of a chain that had been founded after World War I by Abraham Penn.

"He's a pillar of the Jewish community," said Frankel, "He used to say, ‘I would rather make a friend than make a sale.'"

Kimberly studied the store windows thinking to herself, "I could never wear those clothes." But an hour later she emerged from the store completely converted into a preppy; and as she walked down Main Street back to the car, she checked her image in the reflection of storefront windows. "I think I rather like this outfit," she said as they started their journey to Provincetown.

They drove north to the West Barnstable Train Station then turned right onto Old King's Highway and proceeded eastward through Barnstable Village, toward Cummaquid, Yarmouth, Dennis, Harwich, Brewster and finally Orleans. All this time passing the hundreds of colonial homes that lined the highway-Cottages, Cape Revivals, Bungalows, Manor Houses and a few Victorians, not to mention two grand Chateau in the Town of Harwich. These homes, often as not, wore bright red doors and working shutters and, often as not, were anchored to great fireplaces. They could be seen up and down the lanes that bisected the highway, tree-covered lanes that seemed to lead to mysterious destinations, all of them by the sea. The sheer beauty of all this was enhanced by the brightness of the light and Gurion mentioned this.

"It's because the sea is reflected into the atmosphere," said Frankel."

"And because of that," said Ruth, "the light on Cape Cod is different than any other place in the country. It's the refraction effect. That's one of the reasons there are so many artists here."

All this overwhelmed Kimberly. Could there be any place in America so lovely? she wondered. She had been counting red doors from the beginning of the journey and by the time they reached Orleans, she had counted one hundred twenty-five.
But the thing that had impressed her the most was a short stop at Corporation Beach. There were benches on the bluff that overlooked Cape Cod Bay and without any thought beyond spontaneity they had all said, "It's so beautiful."

*Ten males who have been Bar Mitzvahed
**Sabbath refreshments
***Kosher-clean
****The Indian Tribe indigenous to Cape Cod
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Provincetown, the next chapter, will begin on Friday and run through next Thursday.

Chapters change on Mondays and Thursdays:
Be sure to watch David Rojay on The Dan and Dad Show each Saturday night at 9:30 on Channel 17. Read A RED STATE HERO by David Rojay on capecodtoday.com. Read Sea Street-David Rojay's blog on capecodtoday.com and finally check out David Rojay on YOUTUBE. For more information, Google "David Rojay".
Check out my Sea Street Blog: "All Gab and No Jab. See David Rojay with Lou Colombo at the Road House Café Monday night, October 12.