True Story: Jessica Come Home

In 1999 my oldest son Stephen had a “Cinderella” opportunity to work at the prestigious Winged Foot Golf Club in Westchester County, New York, as Equipment Manager. It meant relocating from his childhood home in the Pocono Mountains in Pennsylvania. While he was an adult, it also meant leaving friends and family. Even though he wasn’t really that far away, his heavy schedule meant infrequent visits.

The second year he spent at Winged Foot he found a beautiful little Border Collie puppy he named Jessica. She was just an eight-week-old ball of fur, and she grew up in Steve’s studio apartment in Scarsdale and at the golf course, where she eventually learned to herd geese … the bane of every golf course. Of course, she always accompanied him on his visits home, so we all grew to love her (everyone except my cat Josey who joined the family in 2008).

Steve was single, and Jessica was his closest companion for many years. After a biblical seven years at Winged Foot (which included the 2006 U.S. Open), he returned home and established a soil treatment company, often traveling to New York, Connecticut and beyond to work on playing fields, and faithful Jessica was always with him.

Eventually Steve found the woman who completed his life, and Jessica retired not long after that to become a happy house pet to Steve's new-found family, which included two children. By now she was getting up there in doggy years and began to have not unexpected health issues: a bad back, increasing blindness, loss of hearing. But she never lost her love for life and her master.

This year, two days before Thanksgiving, Jessica went outside to answer the call of nature, and she didn’t return. We don’t really know what happened: something perhaps startled her, and being blind she became disoriented and wandered off. Steve and his family … all of us, in fact … were distraught. 

Hours turned into days, and at the age of nearly16 we all wondered just how long Jessica could survive. Notices were posted on Facebook, veterinarians and shelters were contacted, searches ensued. No sign of Jess.

Twelve days later I had a phone call from our local animal shelter, AWSOM (Animal Welfare Society of Monroe). “We think we have your dog.” Steve had been there a couple of times and they were aware she’d been missing. I immediately called him (AWSOM called me because my phone number was on the Facebook “missing” notice) and he immediately went to the shelter. Sure enough, it was Jessica. She was found near water (a stream or a creek), and while she was disoriented, she certainly knew her daddy. She had lost weight but seemed none the worse for wear, and continues to do well.

The best possible outcome, and the concern expressed by so many people (my “missing” notice on Facebook received over 800 shares and many prayers and helpful suggestions) were also a heartwarming part of this story. People do care. There are good people in the world, including the couple who found Jessica and brought her to our animal shelter, where many local people volunteer. A whole network of people who love animals, and love the people who love them.

Borders are almost scarily smart dogs. Jessica, even at her age (she'll be 16 on January 14) and with infirmities, had the will to somehow manage to reunite with the people who love her.

Our very own “Lassie” come home.

Life in the Poconos: The Bridge Street Detour

When my husband and I moved from Cincinnati to Northeastern Pennsylvania, one of the first things we heard from locals was how much the state/county/municipalities needed to address the many problems with the infrastructure. Somehow or the other, PA State Route 611 had to be widened to four lanes. Nobody could suggest exactly how that might happen, but everybody agreed it was going to become a “real problem.” That was in 1971.

Pennsylvania is an old state (one of the original thirteen, I believe) and a good many of the roads started life as Indian trails (with apologies to my native American ancestors and friends, but that was the expression). And gradually rocks were used to cover the rutted trails and eventually, pavement. Most of the time, it seems that all the twists and turns that were originally there remained.

Driving around in my county it’s difficult to get really lost, because no matter where you are sooner or later you’re going to cross another of those trails and get your bearings. Great if you’re on foot or horseback, not so much when traveling by car.

Over time (and a lot of this has happened in the 46 years I’ve lived here) commercial establishments began to appear on some of the major byways, notably state routes 611 and 209. I’m sure there are a good many more, but those are the ones I deal with on a daily basis. And the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation (PennDot for short), in its infinite wisdom, widened sections of Rte. 611, the most commercially-developed road in our area, to accommodate the ever-increasing traffic. Not the entire length of the highway, or even those sections where businesses continued to multiply. Just here and there. A few hundred yards at a time.

Imagine the resulting bottlenecks, if you can. And the cars barreling south on 611 in the right-hand lane which abruptly ended. It’s a miracle there haven’t been numerous multiple-vehicle accidents, but us locals know what to expect and are patient and kind with the folks from New York, New Jersey, and other parts of the state of Pennsylvania who don’t understand how things work in this neck of the woods.

One of the worst of these is on Rte. 611 very near the circle where I live, and one major problem is at an intersection with a road, Bridge Street,which connects 611 and 209 (the other major artery through our area). There actually IS a bridge on the street and PennDot was forced to close the road and repair the bridge, creating a major headache because the road was now one way. You could get from 209 to 611 but not vice versa. Except via a detour.

It was a lengthy detour. What worsened the problem was that below Bridge Street on 611 is a long stretch of mostly retail businesses and food establishments: the biggest mall in the area and many other stores and establishments grouped together with some common parking areas. So driving through that area is slow: a number of traffic lights and always heavy traffic.

The result is that many of us have been dealing with the No Right Turn Onto Bridge Street situation for what seems like eons. At times I would drive north on Bridge Street to try to see exactly what kind of progress was being made. It was hard to tell, and I don’t mean to be unkind, but mostly I saw groups of PennDot people gathered around a piece of equipment having some kind of conference, while others seemed to be wandering around. I’m sure that wasn’t always the case. It’s just what I seemed to always observe.

When the crane that had been on the site for millennia actually came down I had a sense of hope. And lo and behold, a few days ago … December 21 to be exact … PennDot gave us a Christmas present. Well, kind of. Traffic was open both ways on Bridge Street … but the turning lanes which we all fervently hope will help ease the nasty traffic backups above Bridge Street aren’t open yet. Maybe an Easter present?

I posted on Facebook when I got home after seeing that the southbound side of Bridge Street was actually being used, and had some great responses. It has seemed like forever, but the detour actually was only in force for about eighteen months. Lots of “OMG … I thought that was NEVER going to happen!” My favorite from an artist friend, Will Rothfuss, who gave me permission to quote him: “I don't believe it! In the meantime, while they were working on that, the pyramids were built.” 

The infrastructure in our little corner of the world in the Poconos. Still working on the Rte. 611-Bridge Street problem, 46 years later. PennDot doesn’t like to rush things.