Except as noted, all images copyrighted by and should be attributed to E B Hawley.
I had become many eons ago a traveling literary gnome, inquisitive about places I had and had not visited,
walking the same paths of peoples from the past, through places once grand and still grand,
photographing images that now show me the places about which I still dream . . .

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Lost in Megargel

In the 1700s, near this site on Farm Road 210 just north of Megargel, French tradesmen brought goods to the Native Americans. Spanish explorer Jose Mares discovered evidence of the trading in 1787 while he hiked through there, jotting down a map for a new road. Later, the US Army camped near here while they sought a good ground for a new Indian Reservation. In the mid-1800s, the US Army escorted a Comanche exodus to Oklahoma. Outside Megargel stands a lonesome barn, seemingly abandoned by its owner.
Most of Megargel seemed abandoned today. The town, founded in 1910, flourished with a railroad, the Texas & Western, and then with the oil boom of the 20s. Times became tough for the people of Megargel during the Great Depression.
Facade of the Megargel High School, 1927.
Just off the highway towards Olney stands another abandoned building.
In contrast, a couple of eateries along the highway toward Seymour looked jolly, or maybe I demanded from myself that I perceive them jolly, for Megargel is a lonesome looking town.

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Let Lovely Turn of Phrase Begin

JMHawley Gave Me a Kiss to Build a Dream On

Listen, will you? I think that . . . literature, poetry, music and love make the world go round . . . while mathematics explains things; I fill my life with them, then go walking in snowy woods.
Let us go then, you and I
like two etherized patients floating
through life, together feeling prufrockian.
DDB Jr. makes my world go 'round; during his absence, Pachelbel fills it up.
One summer I sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, then through the Gulf of Finland to reach Saint Petersburg; I pursued Joseph Brodsky in its alley ways. I dream of making that two summers.
I read “Biking to Electra;” found my way in a Jaguar car, and glanced at the flashing steel grasshoppers at sunset. I’ll follow K.O.P.’s footsteps after he followed N.Scott Momaday’s; find warmth and inspiration on a rainy mountain.
Throw chinese coins for the I Ching.
Save the whales, the spotted owl, the woman in toil.
Cast a fly for trout; my memories of fly fishing under the sunny blue Colorado sky remain; I yearn to build more . . . with more trophy Browns.
Listen for the swan’s calls on the Baltic Sea. Feel KKII's joy, his arms spread wide in Yazilikaya.
Good night, Jimmy Durante, where ever you are.