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Jeffrey Young
IP: 152.75.124.122 Jun 7, 07 - 2:20 PM |
The Cathedrals of Pier 86
It was the late spring or early summer of 1963 when, on a trip to New York from my home in Washington, D.C, my father took me down to the Hudson to see the great liners at dock. As we moved down 12th Avenue south of 60th St, we approached Pier 86, where the United States Lines tied up. Twin sets of sampan funnels towered over the street, pinnacles of the two steel cathedrals America and United States. For a lad of my age, the sight of their bows standing building-high, casting long shadows in the late day, was beyond measure. We walked about the pier, reduced in scale by these great ladies to mere specks. My father told me how America traded her rouge for gray during the Second War and soldiered along with the rest. I learned from him that her sister, United States, was built to be the fastest liner in the world without challenge. As he spoke, the sun's reflection in the Hudson dappled both hulls with light. It was magic. Years later, this memory flooded back as I stood at the dock on the Delaware River in Philadelphia, beholding United States once again. But this time, of course, that great lady was asleep, her rouge and mascara peeled away by decades of relentless sun, washed thin by countless rains, and stained by rivulets of rust. The immense power I felt in her at Pier 86 was gone - - the only sound was the wind slapping a line against her hull. And there she remains today, that is, until she is inevitably towed to a muddy beach in Gujarat. When the torches are lit and her skin and bones fall to the flats, she, too, will cast her lines and sail off to one's mind, where the twin cathedrals of Pier 86 will forever call the faithful. |
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