Waltham History Hero Hands Grads a True Gift

A Last Minute Look

These first days of school in Waltham bring me back to the last days, for seniors last year, and the curious incident at Purgatory Cove.

It was mid-May, and mid-morning when the usual suspects falling off their usual hooks.
No fish seeking missile of osprey, no blur of bald eagle could be found responsible for peeling angler's eyes off rod and reel.

Whatever it was, they came in hot, and not on wind or water. Any lantern hung by belfry, say the Watch Factory, would hang alone, because they came by land, with a morning routine, first curling and shaving, corners and hedges before bursting through the entrance into Purgatory Cove, hopscotching the tunnel, splitting sides of sumacs then shooting uphill to a jewelry box of greens, cuts and clarity shimmering in a gentle canopy.
Quick contrast saw it was white knuckle brakes that had them parked and pulled into the pine needled station called Forest Grove.

Seen only by their feet, stepping off, the mystery passengers were heading down towards the water, with a slip showing: A mandolin slice of white peeking out between cowcatcher and rock wall holding up the leafy knob, fondly recalled as Camp Forest Grove, and prior to that, a popular sandy beach once lifeguarded by the much-missed Charlie McCarthy, a treasure chest of local color.

The new quiet left behind the curious conclave was broken by birdsong: the chirp of cardinal, a whistle of oriole, the chiseling of working woodpecker flooding the velvet floor of forest, like hired help sweeping up, a soprano screech of great blue heron, the bass of bull frog, a swell of symphony relighting the house gone dark.

The traveling troupe by now would be hugging the pucker brush path blocking out the view, too busy tangling into a knotty embrace, leaning back, in a desperate reach for river.

Casting nets aside, and making wide screen dreams come true, was the arrival of a sandy outcrop nicknamed Tom Sawyer Point, with an enormous reveal of the Lakes District, the ultimate Monet moment, a dreamy, draping magic mile, olive green pads centered with sunny-side eggs painted with fried eggs, the deep dipping willows over slow pokes of duckweed sprinkled like powdered sugar at Christmas, over a stretch of river scenery described as, ”The very best I've ever seen,” by Leif Ericson. The jutted point once captained by birch, had been brought to their knees by freight train blows marching down this grove, pine boughs piled into matchsticks, before big blows skipped over the white capped cove, smashing up against black on white Princes protecting the point.

The tragedy behind them, the traveler's trek continued uphill to the pine needle path tying a copper ribbon around the high knoll and the gift of an outlook, to a pretty pincushion, bobbing mid river, a buoy of birch, meant for swinging, stuck like cloves in a holiday ham, splitting the channel, one side Forest Grove one side Maple Cove that in winter spills smells of wood smoke up river, from hovering icemen and their burning barrel, atop their glassy paradise polka dotted with orange flagged traps.

When they came curling out of the pines, pouring down out of a sea of black trunks, they were behind a briskly step ped, well dressed guide, that in no time had them swirling back on board, but not before good manners helped them up, and the whole business rumbled back out the way they came in.. plowing upriver to a tower surrounded in uncut grass, the well dressed, well mannered man out front wading into the green and a good conversation..
He looked familiar, b ut not common, a man well known, but not taken for granted..
It would be Waltham High School History teacher Jack Cox, leading graduating seniors on his annual tour of Waltham via The Tick Tock Trolley. .A man who knows his history as can be seen by the list including Historical Commission member, author, lecturer, and more interestingly, a man most familiar with murder, when a Waltham crime series was so popular, being broadcast from the very belly of the library, in a packed lecture hall, that they were asked back, to do another..

The three of them, Detective Jimmy Auld, Waltham History teacher and Hero Award winner Steve Goodwin and Cox wo uld weave a set of tales so fine like a Persian Rug, with a second stain, with as just plain murder topped the menu.. Hopefully, they ran out of tales, leaving the city safe and wanting something new from the talented trio..

Waltham seniors about to graduate