9.30.2020 – it carried away

it carried away
everything – there was no more
the end of something

The setting for Ernest Hemingway’s short story, The End of Something, is the little town of Horton’s Bay in the wonderfully located upper, lower Michigan.

The story is a story of a couple’s breaking up.

As a warning to what is coming for the couple, Mr. Hemingway opens the story with a short description of Horton’s Bay.

Mr. Hemingway wrote, “In the old days Hortons Bay was a lumbering town. No one who lived in it was out of sound of the big saws in the mill by the lake. Then one year there were no more logs to make lumber. The lumber schooners came into the bay and were loaded with the cut of the mill that stood stacked in the yard. All the piles of lumber were carried away. The big mill building had all its machinery that was removable taken out and hoisted on board one of the schooners by the men who had worked in the mill. The schooner moved out of the bay toward the open lake, carrying the two great saws, the travelling carriage that hurled the logs against the revolving, circular saws and all the rollers, wheels, belts and iron piled on a hull-deep load of lumber. Its open hold covered with canvas and lashed tight, the sails of the schooner filled and it moved out into the open lake, carrying with it everything that had made the mill a mill and Hortons Bay a town.

The trip taken by the ship loaded with the workings of the sawmill was a one way trip.

The ship, the machinery, the lumber, the trees, everything that made the mill a mill and the town a town, was not coming back.

It was the end of something.

I watched the first debate of the 2020 Election last night.

I had feelings to be sure.

But mostly I was sad and am sad this, the morning of the day after.

I had never seen nor had I imagined I would ever see such a display at what I thought was a showcase of what made the United States the United States.

Maybe I WAS seeing what makes the United States the United States.

It was not what I knew.

And in my heart of hearts I also know that the place I knew is not coming back.

Very sad.

I sat and I watched as if a crew was dismantling everything about the United States and loaded it on a schooner.

I watched as the crew lashed it all down tight.

And I watched as the sails of the schooner filled and it moved out into the open lake, carrying with it everything.

It hurt to watch.

It hurt to watch and realize what was leaving.

It hurts this morning.

It hurts to read that some folks felt the same.

It hurts to read that some folks did not notice.

It hurts to read that some folks noticed and did not care.

It was the end of something.

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