Running the Table

image
(The NE3 Stone is concealed within the bushes around this tree at the edge of the commercial parking area to the left.)

Based on the directions from the BoundaryStones.org people, I was reasonably confident I could run the table on the remaining monuments of the North East sector. Remember, this was a little more challenging in the days before hand-held GPS devices. I did have a device, of course.

I had my camera- remember when you had to have one separate from your phone? And I took careful pictures of the Stones to document their condition, the way the day looked, and the houses they guarded. The neighborhoods were on the verge. Some homes well kept and others abandoned. The general tone seemed to be growing more prosperous as I headed northwest on a counter-clockwise path toward the self-proclaimed Nuclear Free Zone of Takoma Park.

image

I was looking at NE6, which has an inscription that is in good shape, though it appears someone might have run a car into it and snapped the Stone. It has been re-set in concrete in a private yard. While I was standing there, a large American car of indeterminate age rolled by with the driver talking loudly to himself, or me, or some greater power. I would not linger around NE6 past the coming of darkness.

image

NE5 is in the front yard of a modest and hardworking home 4609 Eastern Avenue, northwest of Varnum Street. No cage was evident.
image

Stone NE4 was stunning. The owner of the little Cape Cod house at 5400 Sargent Road, on the Maryland side of Eastern Avenue just north of Sargent Road. No cage, and an impressive Stone.

My research said that NE3 was to be found on the edge of a parking lot on a commercial development near the intersection of Eastern and Chillum roads. When the odometer was crawling past .9 miles from NE 4 I saw a strip mall ahead on the right. There were no cars in the lot and the asphalt was littered with trash. The brick building was decorated with vibrant folk art, the colors still bright, but the Hispanic grocery had been closed a while and plastic bags were blowing listlessly around in the fresh breeze. The Stone was in a thicket of scrub-brush near the sidewalk. It was startling to see the damage.

The cage was blown open as though a grenade had hit it. The steel rods were twisted like spaghetti, although the Stone beneath the wreckage was remarkably intact. I touched it, the top green with moss and the inscription barely visible. It is the only one that I have felt compelled to feel with my flesh. Just outside the twisted bars of the cage was a nest inside the debris. The cardboard of some old liquor boxes were flattened to soften the ground. It was still dry on top, and it appeared that someone was living there.
image

He was not at home at the moment, though it seemed clear that he was going to be back. I imagine in increment weather a tarp or poncho could be draped over the cage wreckage and provide cover.

I poked through the debris with a toe. Empty plastic containers, assorted trash. I wondered if the man who slept here was demented, dreaming and screaming in the night, curled around the Stone. I assumed he had a day place to be, some median where he can panhandle commuters. You can’t blame him for sleeping on the monument, I suppose. This little knot of thicket is here because of the Stone’s presence, and the cover of the thicket gives someone a home in odd symbiosis.

I documented the wreckage around NE 3 and pressed on into the Nuclear Free City of Takoma Park. I like the people there. They were not afraid to stand their ground inside the District and pass idiotic ordinances because it is the right thing to do. Eastern Avenue took a jog at .8 on the odometer, but I found the corner of Maple and Carroll and there it was, located proudly off the sidewalk in a new circular cage, the green-tinged stone contrasting with the flat green paint of the steel around it. First one like that I had seen. I took pictures of NE 2, gratified that this one was in good shape and people seemed to care.
image

There was a guy smoking in front of the copier shop across the street. He seemed interested in what I was doing and I had lost Eastern Avenue, which seemed to have terminated. He gave me directions, the wrong ones, but it helped out. I told him the Stone was in good shape. He puffed on his Marlboro and said it was one of the only three or four stones left. It was an object of civic pride. He seemed surprised when I told him they were almost all there, more almost all the original forty, in one condition or another. Some truncated, some pristine. But mostly all there just like the original scheme. The light was still new and hard and angular.

“That is good to know,” he said. “Maybe I’ll go look at some.”

“There is one every mile” I said. “You should go look at NE 3. It is quite a contrast.”

“Thanks for the tip,” he said, and carefully stubbed his butt out on the pavement.

I waved as I drove away in the opposite direction from the one he had told me. I eventually found Eastern again, and with a little over 1.2 miles on the odometer I turned right off Georgia Avenue in front of the Paradise Market. It had once sold BEER and WINE, according to the sign but it was out of business. Another sign told me that it was under reconstruction but there didn’t seem to be anything happening in haste. There was a social group of some kind in the parking lot at the end of the building and the members looked at me curiously. Right by the door to the market is a plaque inset in the pavement.
image

Up close, the words on it told me that once there had been a Stone here, NE 1, and that this marker was to commemorate its presence. I wondered what had happened to it. Scooped up by a backhoe? Used for fill in the foundation? Too big to dump out with the trash, so I imagine it is around someplace.

Certainly it could happen. In fact, I was surprised it had not happened more often. I gave a cheery and non-committal wave to the social club before they came down to ask what I was doing on their block. I climbed back in the car and motored on up to Georgia Avenue to hook up with the Beltway and head back to Virginia. I was moderately pleased.

I had at least seen the location of NE1, and nailed 2, 3, 4, 5 and 7.

That was a heck of a day. I didn’t mind coming back with a posse to penetrate the brush by the burned out house on the way to the last two Stones of the NE sector, and then to the last of the Cardinal Stones: The Stone of the East.

Life was good, I thought.

Copyright 2016 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
twitter: @jayare303

Written by Vic Socotra

Leave a comment