Ocean Falls Museum - Poetry

A Special Place

A cool, damp mist surrounded me
As I stepped from deck to float
The ghostly remains of the town I knew
Left a lump deep in my throat.

In spite of ample warning
From those who had come before
Nothing could have prepared me
For the scene I faced on shore.

As I walked through what was left
Of this once vibrant town
The rain rolled in from off the sea
With a familiar soft ringing sound.

The sound the rain made on the sea
Was music to my ears.
As nature played her symphony
My mind turned back the years.

Playing on these rain soaked streets
What joy the muck and mire.
Where bumbershoots and rubber boots
Were everyday attire.

But on those days when the sun did shine
We would taste the salty spray
As we'd speed down Cousins Inlet
To the camps at Wallace Bay.

For speedboats were our "set of wheels"
In this town of boardwalk roads
The ocean was our highway
Fun seeking youth the load.

To my right, is the former site
Of good old Charleson High
Where teachers did their level best
To prepare us for the world outside.

Over there, the scant remains
Of the School or 10th Street Hill
Where sleighs of all description
Provided winter thrill.

And over here, St. Margaret's Church,
The remnants of some homes
Amongst whose ruins, a female black
With yearling cubs now roams.

A stroll along the valley road
Brings a flood of memory
Where oft' we'd walk, giving thought
To what we'd grow up to be.

The last I see, is what used to be
The centre of the town.
Most of the buildings that here once stood
Have long since been torn down.

The Martin Inn, ravaged by time
Now a lonely sentinel
This once heart of the downtown core
Reduced to but a shell.

Across the way, from the Hudson's Bay,
The mill, in silence, stands
Broken only by a rush of water
Flowing from the dam.

Though my visit here was short
It became quickly clear to me
This place is very much alive
In spite of what you see.

For beneath the guise of apparent demise
Lies a spirit, sure and strong
In those who came to call Ocean Falls "home"
After you and I moved on.

Now, as the boat pulls from the float
And turns into the bay
I give the town one last look
Before I sail away.

The picture somewhat saddens me
But of this, at least, I'm sure
Though not as I remember it
Its memory will endure.

For Ocean Falls was a special place.
More than the town from which we came.
It was a way of life that has set us apart
As the "People of the Rain".

B. Adams October 2000
© 2000 Tidewater Press