Ghost Rider
When compiling essays for an anthology I recently published, I came across this brief note that reminds me of a man I'll always miss.
Juneau, Alaska
June 8, 2016
Thirty years ago I walked into the Red Dog Saloon. I’d never been to Juneau.
We walked thru a couple swinging doors and into a place with sawdust floors, a live band, and a bartender at the ready.
My stepfather ordered drinks, turned to a patron standing beside him. He greeted him by name as if he’d seen him last week. The salutation was returned with equal equanimity.
“Oh hi, Jerry! How are you?”
I was astounded. We were at an Alaskan bar, and my stepfather bumped into someone he hadn’t seen in years. Yet he shook hands like they’d had dinner last night.
I’ve never forgotten that moment. It cemented who Jerry was. He made indelible impressions, and transmitted them to others.
As Jerry reacquainted with his friend, the band performed. They played “Ghost Riders”, which I’d heard before but never appreciated. This rendition was fantastic, perhaps enhanced by the scene I’d just seen.
I was reminded of it yesterday. With my wife and son, I’d returned to Juneau. Our first stop was the Red Dog Saloon.
We stopped again as we approached the entry. This time the swinging doors were blocked. IDs were needed for our boys to enter.
They’re only fifteen and twelve, so that wasn’t possible. But my wife and sons let me go in. For a few minutes I surveyed the scene.
There was sawdust, a live band, and a bar. But it wasn’t the same. The place was thick with tourists. The bar was packed; yet no one familiar filled the seats. The band was fine, but not what I remembered.
Jerry wasn’t there. And all the ghosts had gone away.
JD
If interested in impressions of the history, culture, and people of other places, consider my new compilation that captures observations and insights from far afield and near abroad. Click here for a ticket to Gateways and Retreats.
Well we can go back in thought and memory knowing that it can never happen again, nevertheless it is fun to visit it again...
Returning to places where you lived in or visited decades before, usually leaves a bitter-sour and rather unpleasant taste ...
Human memory is highly selective and erases the ugly stuff (what a blessing !!!) enhancing the pleasant and positive aspects in one's mind which usually turn-out to be in total contradiction to the current, actual condition, especially after the total, fully deliberate enshittification of every aspect of life !!!
Imho, better to keep nice memories of places and past experiences (even being fully aware that they are highly selective) and visit some of the myriads of new places left to explore ...