“You Can’t Park Here, Buddy”

One Response to ““You Can’t Park Here, Buddy””

  1. Bill says:

    My paternal great grandfather had a farm on part of what is now the Oswego State campus. My family was driving either to or from his place along a road through a swamp west of campus. It was storming, the swamp had flooded, and there had to be a foot or two of water on the road depending on where you were. My parents were having a meltdown, and since I was only two at the time, so was I.

    My great grandfather died just after that, and when I decided to attend Oswego, my father never bothered to tell me about the past connection. So one day I’m hitching to a bar called Nunzie’s on a road that goes through a swamp, and it all came rushing back to me. Thank God I hadn’t taken any drugs that day; I might have panicked about having a bad trip. My parents couldn’t believe I had remembered the event, but terror has a way of concentrating the mind.

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