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Oh the stories this place could tell . . . in years as stable and livery, bar, hotel, photography unit, and residence;  it could tell stories of our mutual friend Sam.  More on Sam later.

And oh the stories Lucy H could tell about her odyssey from the bayous all the way to Troy . . .

 

where we two crossed paths on this beautiful autumn day.

 

As the sun set, Betty D showed up as well, a similar story to tell, no doubt.  And I’m wondering what’s the story with the far bank?  As I recall,

that was covered in volunteer under- and overgrowth, which seems to have been cut recently.

If I read my map right, the far bank there is Watervliet, birthplace of Leland Stanford and home of an arsenal with a notable iron building.

As night falls, Betty D makes her way northward under the Green Island Bridge.

 

I didn’t forget:  here’s Sam.

All photos and sentiments by Will Van Dorp.

 

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Graves of Arthur Kill

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Seth Tane American Painting

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Reflections of an American hostage in Iraq, 20 years later.

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