From Heaven to Hell to home, the world is full of stories.
A Thrillist story this past week calls it the creepiest place to visit in New Jersey.
It's located along Mountain Road in Basking Ridge, and Amber Sutherland-Namako writes:
"Out of context, the tree's silhouette alone is enough to inspire nightmares: a warped, half-dead oak looming in the middle of a lonely field, with dozens of ax marks lining its trunk. Then there's the gruesome history. A purported meeting place for the KKK, notorious suicide site, and rumored gateway to the depths of hell, the Devil's Tree is infamous among locals and has evolved into a chilling tourist attraction. Legend has it, anyone who harms the tree will suffer swift and violent retribution..."
A few other Garden State stories piqued my interest this week.
Here's a Record story about the rededication of St. Anthony of Padua Church in Passaic:
"This beautiful church is a symbol, and we pray for 50 and 100 and hundreds of years more [that] we continue to be here in this community, this beautiful symbol of all of God's goodness and blessings that he gives to us and that we receive,'' said Bishop Kevin J. Sweeney of the Paterson Diocese, who led last week's rededication Mass in both English and Spanish.
Passaic has a special place in my heart because my Mom always talks about it affectionately. More about that later.
Closer to home, I found two stories practically outside my front doorstep. Here are Instagram posts about each:
Returning to Passaic:
I once wrote about how proud Mom was to be known there as "the girl in the photo shop window" when she worked at Kresge's in the 1950s. A photographer on Main Street displayed a large portrait of her – a print from her engagement photos – in the main window of his shop.
I recalled this story as I sat with Mom on my recent birthday at an outdoor cafe on a beautiful Sunday morning. She had an egg and cheese sandwich, and I ordered eggs over easy with bacon and rye toast, which is what my Dad always used to order for breakfast.
Dad died 15 years ago on Oct. 24, and we both miss him terribly.
Before we left, I asked Mom if she would pose for a photo with me. Mom readily agreed, but she made me take about a half dozen photos before she said I took one of her that was good enough for me to post.
Decades pass, and life is so post-pandemically weird, but some things never change.
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