| DEADARTIST Tales of Lembrook |
|
|
DeadArtist: Mr. G's Round Hill Lodge |
||
Mr. G's Round Hill Lodge
Sunday, BUILDING BURNS - A large structure at Mister G's Round Hill Resort on Rt. 208, Washingtonville was destroyed by fire Sunday night. I was residing 161km (100 miles) away, having been told about 2 months earlier that I had to leave home or be killed by my father (who had been trying to do so for the past 19 years). On the week-end of 26 January 1974, I'd gone back "home" to visit and on that evening, I was prepared to leave, to go to Mr. G's when my Mother, of most blessed memory, asked: "Where are you going?" "Where I usually go on week-ends when I'm here." I replied. "No you aren't." she said, not in a forbidding tone, but more matter of fact. "Why not?" I asked, a little perturbed. She motioned for me to come into the kitchen to the table, and she placed the Monday edition of The Evening News where I could read. I glanced and gleaned the page, not knowing what I was expected to see when my eyes caught the photo... and I read the caption... and my heart exploded in my chest. "It's not there any more." Mum said, in a voice that one usually hears in funeral homes and at burials. "I'm sorry." In the days, weeks, months and even years that followed, stories about that night flourished. Nobody was killed, thankfully. "Blame" and "cause" spanned from "un-known" to rumours of one of "our regulars" (DM... I'll not mention names), having had a fight/argument with the owner and in some drug-induced rage, set a fire in one of the rooms in the "Main House". There were "reports" that the people of the town/village of Washingtonville stood as a barricade across the entrance of the dirt road that wound up to "The Lodge" so as to keep the fire department from getting to it and extinguishing the fire. It shouldn't be doubted, this account, because it was well-known that the town's folk despised the presence of The Lodge and all who visited it, even to the extent where, as visitors passed through the village, en route TO "The Lodge", often they would be delayed by the local police who would interrogate drivers and passengers so as to ascertain their destination. Many was the time when drivers and passengers would be "detained", over-night, so as to keep them from reaching "The Lodge" on a Friday or Saturday night. (Those of us who knew the area had our back roads through the woods and over the mountains to avoid confrontation. More often than not, we succeeded in our journeys. Then again, there were those times when we didn't. Ah... those were the days.) Today, 42 years later, I've managed to find the account of the tragedy... It's been vivid in my mind, my heart and my soul all this time. I could always "see", in my mind's eye, this page, but I wasn't certain of the date. Today... the mystery is solved... but the pain lives as deep now as it did... 42 years ago. I've dedicated a "page" on "Facebook" to Mr. G's with links to some of the music from the juke box on it. I remember names and people, events, details. I am here today (5 July 2016) distantly removed from the area, typing this account ONLY because of "George"... "Mr. G." and his kindness, compassion, caring and love. Had it not been for him and his "lodge", my father's efforts would have ended in success back then. But many was the week-end when George would take me in, provide a safe haven for at least the week-end (and sometimes longer). And for the while, I was, indeed, safe from harm, amongst true friends and those who loved me and whom I loved more deeply than blood-family. I've searched on the Internet, for information on G's and all that appears is my "page". Perhaps now, this page too will appear. Hopefully all that I post will remain available long after the last of us has gone from this existence, and one day, well after even our names have disappeared into oblivion, somebody will find these entries and know: Mr. G's Round Hill Lodge It will always be: Heaven
|
