Jason S. Harry

The picture above is a gigantic frog on a spool of thread that stands at one corner of a bridge spanning the Willimantic River in downtown Willimantic, Connecticut. There are identical frogs on the other three corners as well, each one costing a cool fifty-grand. It’s a newer bridge; it officially opened back in 2000. I’ve always wondered what the story was with those frogs. I had some extra time this afternoon so I stopped by the local library and spent a good thirty minutes researching it in an encyclopedia I found.  One night back in 1754 the good people of Willimantic awoke to a terrible noise. I mean EVERYONE woke up, that’s how loud it was. Some folks ran into the streets carrying muskets, others prayed and a few probably ran around shouting, “Oh my God, the Russians have arrived!” The source of their rude awakening could not be determined. After the chaos had died down, everyone went home and back to bed, except for a few who saw no point in trying for more sl...

 Monday’s travels in New York State brought me through the tiny hamlet of Kinderhook . Kinderhook is probably the first small town I fell in love with because of its name alone. I think it’s because “Kinder” is part of the name, which in German means “children”, as in kindergarten, which is literally “Children’s Garden.” Kinderhook, also a German name, translates to English as, “Children’s corner.” That’s a lot of youth, this “kinder” stuff, a good time in the human experience for sure. So I like Kinderhook quite a bit. I’ve only been up and down the main drag on route 9. Lacking verse in architecture, I can’t say if it’s filled with neat Victorian homes or spectacular Susanian homes. The center of town is a block or two long, tiny indeed with only one traffic light. But if you look at all the cool things that call the eye, you might miss a turn or accidentally blow through a red light. There are lots of neat old pads on both ends of town- that’s how I can say it safel...

My first stop this morning was in Rochester, New York. I had not been there in many months. I drove right by the Kodak compound which consists of many structures including some very cool-looking old brick buildings. I happened to notice an open lot that had plenty of room to park my rig so I could walk around and snap some pictures. I didn’t stop because I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to take pictures of a Kodak institution with a Nikon. The last thing I needed or wanted was to be thrown in jail on a Monday morning. When I backed into the dock at my first delivery, I was greeted by a man slightly older than me with a flowing mop of hair that is a certain shade of gray that I don’t how to describe. I always think he could pass for Santa’s brother, maybe cousin, if he ever decided to grow a beard. He’s a pleasant individual which was good. Everyone likes pleasant people on a Monday morning.  As we were unloading, I heard an announcement over the public address system...