Jeff—Saturday
Barbara and I have been off gallivanting around Mexico and
Arizona for the last few weeks, and when we returned I wrote to a friend and
neighbor who’s a fireman with the New Jersey Forest Fire Service to thank him
for keeping an eye on my farm while we were away. Something about his response struck a chord in
my heart: “Those of us who live on the Jersey frontier have to stick together.”
That’s a simple enough of a statement. Possibly taken by some—especially those who
know Bob Wolff—as a bit of his wry humor. But to me it meant something
else. The part of western New Jersey I
call home is unlike anywhere else in the State…at least as far as I’m
concerned. It has vast national, state and local parks, rolling hills, farmland
and horse farms. It’s not at all like
the image of New Jersey fixed in the world’s mind by the phalanx of refineries lining
its highways approaching New York City.
Northwest New Jersey lacks development, spared some say by
the lack of train service to the area.
It is as close to New York City as towns in Connecticut and Long Island
long since sacrificed to commuters. But out here on the Jersey Frontier we
contend with ticks, deer, field mice, bears, rattlers, porcupines, and Canadian
geese. Not Starbucks.
And we rely on each other. It’s volunteer firemen, volunteer
ambulance service, neighbor helping neighbor, strangers helping strangers. A
community dynamic more like Thornton Wilder’s Our Town than Cheers. I find it peaceful, comforting.
But why did my friend’s phrase strike me as it did, as a
revelation of sorts?
I think I know, for in it I now see an answer to what’s
perplexed me for weeks. In our travels through the southwest, I thought of what
it would be like to live in a warmer winter climate, for there’s no denying
that Northwest Jersey can be harsh in the winter. But no place spoke to me, and I could not put
my finger on why. Every place I’ve ever lived has called out to me, yet not so
much as a hum did I hear. Why not, I’d
wondered.
Why not, indeed. When I lived in NYC’s East Village I was a
pioneer, when I lived in Western Massachusetts I was surrounded by a state
forest, and for the past thirty years I’ve lived on the “Jersey Frontier.” Obviously, I like living where you must
contend with the elements and the critters, and if for some reason you need
help, you turn to your friends and neighbors first.
 |
| Snapping turtle |
Planned communities, manicured paradises, and places offering a life filled with a variety of leisure time interests are heaven to many, but just don’t ring my bell. I need an eclectic, who-knows-what’s-going-to-happen-next sort of environment in which to thrive. That’s clearly Mykonos for one-half the year…and the Jersey Frontier for the other.
Perhaps, some day I’ll find another place. Until then, I guess I’ll just have to keep an
ear out for voices.
Thanks, Bob.
—Jeff
