My Park

He came, so the legend goes, in a white stone canoe, to show the troubled peoples that his words were true.  Sent by the Creator, the Peacemaker wound his way over a giant lake and then on to the rivers in what is now upstate New York.  It happened so long ago, it is said, that he traveled thru places not yet seen by the eyes of the “white man.”  His journey ultimately took him to a pristine inland lake.  There he joined with a local native leader  who was called Haion-Hwa-Tma, or Hiawatha.

At a promontory of this lake, they met under a great white pine tree, known as the tree of peace.  After much persuasion, all the leaders of the 5 native nations (Seneca, Onondaga, Cayuga, Oneida, and Mohawk) joined them. The tree was uprooted and into the hole was placed all their weapons of war, then the tree was replanted. 

 

The Tree of Peace

Together, they succeeded in joining together 5 separate nations into what came to be known as the Iroquois Confederacy. Years and years of warring was replaced by a unity and peace among the peoples.

They established the Great Law to serve as a way of life for the nations to follow, and thus a democracy was born. So impressive and successful was this achievement that hundreds of years later, our founding fathers, thru the efforts of Benjamin Franklin, incorporated into our Constitution some of the ideals, symbols, and structure of the Great Law.

The lake is now known as Onondaga, nestled hard against the northern boundary of the city of Syracuse.  The promontory still exists, named after the leader who was influential in bringing together the 5 nations – Hiawatha. So the legend goes.

 

Hiawatha

And today it is all a park – Onondaga Lake Park -- the most popular park in all of Central New York, hosting over 1 million visitors each year.

And it is my park. 

Well, maybe not mine, in the sense that I own it, but still, I do, kinda. If taxes, in some weird contortion of reality, bequeath ownership, I think I can lay claim to a tree, or at least a branch.

This park rests alongside the formerly quaint, little, and isolated village of Liverpool, my hometown.  I think of it as my park because I grew up here, and spent many happy hours in its confines.  Tulip St., where I lived in the village, originates at the lake, right at the marina.  Stroll about ½ mile up Tulip St., and you come to the apartment house that was my first home.  Later, while in college, I lived in a house on Tulip closer to the village center.  In between, I came of age in this village and this park played a significant role in my life.

The Marina

(To Be Continued)

Twain Quote:  “Never refuse to do a kindness unless the act would work great injury to yourself, and never refuse to take a drink – under any circumstances.”