The Newtown Pentacle

Thursday

– photo by Mitch Waxman

While heading through Allegheny Commons Park, which as it turns out is the oldest public park in Pittsburgh, a bit of statuary caught my eye. This park was designed in the Victorian era, and clearly inspired by British and French parks of that same time. At one of the concurrence points for the various walking paths, statuary enjoys a prominent position.

Dedicated to the First Civil War era soldiers of the Hampton Battery, which was an artillery unit that saw action in many of the battles of that conflict, including Antietam.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

It’s set on sort of an elevated plinth, and my understanding is that what’s it’s standing in front of, currently an under renovation playground for kids, used to be a fountain. Another one of the odd cultural differences between NYC and this part of the country revolves around military service. Pennsylvania, it seems, has one of the highest percentiles of citizens who enlisted in the military and then retired back home.

Back in NYC, you’d meet veterans of the various wars, but it was just like you’d meet anyone else at a bar. You’d buy the guy a beer, say ‘thank you for your service,’ and move on to some other topic like how much De Blasio sucked. Most of the military people I’ve ever met in such circumstance ‘don’t want to talk about it.’

That is, until they got drunk…

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Back in my the college years during the late 1980’s, the watering hole that me and my mates favored was an Irish joint on 24th and Third. There was a real cast of characters who hung out there, including a guy named Tito who was the Padrino for a gang of low level criminals that menaced the east 20’s, and ensured that anyone who wanted Cocaine could achieve their goals. Tito once told me his gang’s name was ‘The Puerto Ricans,’ and I got to meet the boss. He was Tito’s dad and his street name was simply ‘Poppie.’ Good times.

There were also a bunch of Viet Nam vets at that bar, who had distinguished themselves militarily overseas and were rewarded with cushy ‘they can’t fire me’ postal jobs at that big post office on 23rd between Third and Lex’s loading docks, which were located on 24th by the bar. These guys used to regularly sneak out of work, and have drinks with the art students at that irish bar. A Medal of Honor and or a Purple Heart bought you a lot of leeway and discretion from the USPS, back in those days.

‘Don’t ask me about ‘Nam,’ was the usual refrain if it came up, from one of them in particular. Two drinks later, and the ‘let me tell you about ‘Nam’ stories would begin. We’d beg him not to ‘talk about ‘Nam,’ as those stories usually cleared the table. It’s sterner stuff than could be handled by we younger generations whose chief desire was to avoid life’s hard edges. Those stories would probably send a member of Gen Z to a mental hospital for a long recovery. Long stories short, napalm sticks to kids.

In Pittsburgh, Veterans get reserved parking spots at shopping malls, and also enjoy discounts at the local chains of breakfast restaurants like Denny’s or ‘Eat and Park.’ Apparently, this sentiment towards America’s retired citizen soldiers ripples through the political and social firmament historically, as well as contemporaneously. As I’ve said a few times: ‘They really wear it on their sleeves in Pittsburgh.’ Not a bad thing, I’d add, just an observation.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Me? The path in front of me would ultimately lead back towards home via the T light rail system.

As described previously, the climate was horrific and cold, and the pavement was fairly well glazed by weeks old accumulations of ice and snow and the freshly iced surfaces anointed by melt water. Had to be careful with every footfall.

South, more or less South – that was the mantra.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Luckily for me, some sort of construction project was underway, along the concretized berm which the Norfolk Southern rail tracks ride atop, and there was a good amount of interesting construction activity underway.

The plan from this point out was to continue the walk in a southerly direction. I’d cross two of Pittsburgh’s three rivers along the way, and then eventually catch a T Light Rail ride back to HQ in Dormont.

Spoilers.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

The decision to ‘perma-shadow’ this stretch of roadway and its sidewalks during the urban renewal era, and during the subsequent buildouts of the high speed road interchanges above and around the stadiums… let’s just say that’s something I would totally disagree with. As I used to decry the situation back in LIC – someone has stolen and privatized the sky.

One shook and twisted the gray tinged sensory and gustation stalk, which juts out from my T-Shirt’s neck hole, and continued walking.

If you’re curious, the title of this post is ‘South by Southwest’ in the native Mexica/Aztec language of Nahuatl.

Back tomorrow.

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