Memories of a walk

Thoughts on a quiet, thankful morning.

It has been a long time since I stood on the quarterdeck of the old USS Hunley, saluted The Flag, and requested to go ashore for the last time. I remember it well. I fully intended to head west, stop in my home town of Pine Bluff, Arkansas, and proceed to San Francisco, California where I lived when the Draft Board closed in on me. I was lived at 1016 Masonic Street, a half-block from Haight and two blocks from Ashbury. I thought it would be fun to go back.

It didn’t work out that way. My mother had a nephew. The nephew had a job with the city. At the job, he had a co-worker. The co-worker knew a couple of guys in Little Rock who had just started an urban planning firm. A 47-year marriage, a master’s degree, certification as an urban planner, and maybe 1,000 planning commission/city council meetings later I now look forward to completing my 50^th year in the profession.

Looking forward to it, I took a walk from my first lodging place at Fifth (Capitol) and State streets and recalled the city as I first found it.

In those days, I walked to my job in the Hall Building at Fifth and Louisiana streets. Looking that way, one could see two new high-rise buildings, named after two major banks, the Commercial, and Worthen. North of them was the Tower Building, one the first high-rises in the South. I developed from an urban renewal project wherein cities purchased sites in “blighted” areas and sold the land to private developers for redevelopment. It’s doubtful that such practices would go unnoticed these days.

Looking west, toward the State Capitol, one could see one of the last boarding houses in the state. It’s long been florist shop. There’s talk these days, though, that boarding-house type units, now called “Short-term rentals,” will re-emerge as a solution to the affordable housing crisis.

My colleagues at work struggled with the idea that I walked there each morning. They had never heard of such things. I found it both healthy and interesting. I particularly enjoyed walking past a local bakery and smelling the morning’s work. On the outside wall was a patch where a window once allowed view inside. There, legendary sportscaster Benny (“It doesn’t cost and extra cent to be a good sport.”) Craig would re-enact Traveler baseball games over the radio, using a tiny bat to make the sound of a hit, pop-up, or foul. We seem to need more extravagant entertainment these days.

I'll finish the walk later. Must go be more actively thankful now.

These days.