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Greetings from a ghost town

In late 1985 I had several field service calls to Fort Monmouth NJ. I noticed a sign that said something about Asbury Park while driving home. The next time I was up there my service call was cut short so when I was heading home I decided to take a little detour, east at that Asbury Park sign until I hit the ocean. It was snowing and I thought it would be cool to see the beach with snow on it. I thought there was a boardwalk. I was having flashbacks and faded vague memories of amusement rides although I couldn't recall how I knew. I wondered what is would be like to see a deserted boardwalk that was shut down for the winter. But what I saw was more of a ghost town than an empty boardwalk. It wasn't shut down for the summer it was shut down for good.

I saw boarded up buildings and broken windows and streets that hadn't been used for years. I found a place to park in an empty parking lot in the middle of an empty block and I started walking. More memories came flooding back to me. Kiddy rides and a fun house and a huge Ferris wheel high in the sky. Places like this are where memories were once made. You have millions of visitors having a good time and enjoying life and it leaves its mark. I could easily imagine thousands of people walking up and down the boardwalk and out on the beach. But now even the ghosts of the past had deserted the place. I saw this one Very large building that was at the end of the boardwalk. It was full of broken and boarded up windows.

I imagined it was the center of all activity at one time. Some strange remembrance was in the back of my mind. As I came up to it and turned round the corner and out on to the street there was kind of a round section sticking out in the front. I knew this place but could not remember it. I was almost overcome with a deep sense of loss and turned away and headed back to my car. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had been there before because I had a pretty good memory of all the dozens of places my parents took me as a kid. There were the trips to the shore and the differences between Wildwood and Atlantic City. There was the cheesy little storybook forest. There was driving all the way down to wildwood just to eat at Zaberers. But I could not recall being to Asbury Park.

That day was quickly forgotten as the weather got worse and the drive back to Philadelphia took over 3 hours. That also turned out to be my last call to Fort Monmouth and I did not have any more calls

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