No there's not enough jewish fishermen in gloucester to make a minion but that's okay because on friday nights the Greenbergs would take in reluctants and backsliders to join in welcoming saturday. not buddies, not pals but simply people who looked forward to seeing one another for a few short weeks when the earth returned to a former position around the good sun. but as years passed the words grew longer, the nods more knowing, the smile broader, and a funny thing happened we became friends.
in the 70's as i'm remembering him now jj was friendly, a nod, a wave, a smile, a few kind words. The Greenbergs have walked with giants and are themselves of such mettle but here where the land stops and the water rises up - you must understand, they were simply the people down the street. folks would take the time to get to know you, people would hold to their strong beliefs yet never press them on you, friends would love your children as they loved their own and respect would rule all of the days we are heir to. If the world were populated by people like our friend what possibilities it would hold. me back from a fishing trip of many days him in a crisp white shirt on a friday evening. what i know of him are hot summer days and cool summer evenings. never knew his dealings in the wider world never saw him with a tie or in a formal setting. one drop of sea water is the whole of it, the whole of it one drop. we know sadness here, it's etched a smooth deep groove in the harbor's granite arms and now again between the vast ocean and overburdened sky - tears fall.
Gloucester, stalwart and serene blessed with beauty but tinged with despair having sent 10,000 sons to the great salt sea, and their fates. To all the good friends and relatives of jj I send you greetings andĬondolences from gloucester, massachusetts.
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