Gov. Charlie Baker is set to sign a bill into law this morning that begins to deal with the Bay State's opiate addiction crisis. Many Hull residents have longstanding addiction issues. Many others died before they found the help they needed. Hull native Scott Sandonato interviewed a childhood friend who plumbed the depths of sickness and despair due to drugs and somehow lived to tell his tale. Watch Sandonato's film here:
By Catherine Goldhammer
I walked through Endless Summer a few weeks ago. I walked quickly; the hullaballoo is wonderful and also more than I can take. But there were a few people I wanted to see, so I went. And I did see them and converse with them, and then I walked back out through the circus performers and their hoops and bowling pins, past the Coast Guard vehicle and the little train, through the music and the food and all the people.
My first conversation there was with a young man I like very much and enjoy talking with. We often seem to be of the same opinions on matters concerning the town. Somehow we got to talking about parking and in particular the parking at Pemberton, and I mentioned not being able to find a parking place, and he agreed. And then we realized that I meant a space in which to sit and ponder while gazing at Peddocks and at Boston and at the currents, and he meant a space from which to take the ferry. It was a small moment, and we didn’t talk about it further, but I remember walking away a little surprised that we didn’t think the same thing. (I am aware how not humble that sounds.)
What I want is for the Gut to be free of commuter parking. I want it to be the way it once was, not so long ago, a place where people came every day, all day, in and out, to sit and read the newspaper, or have their coffee, or talk with a friend, or fish, or watch the airplanes (yes, some came just for this), or look for starfish with their grandchildren, or just stare at those crazy currents while trying to solve all of life’s problems or even just one of them. I don’t know what the average stay was, but I would guess no more than a half an hour. That parking lot was always full of people coming and going and solving life’s problems.
I understand the comprehensive issues of the Pemberton area, not the least of which is that people need to park somewhere to go to work. But I still think that the Hull Gut parking area is a town treasure and that at least this one spot of Pemberton should be protected as such. Even in Hull, where there is water everywhere you look, there is nothing else like the Gut. There are still a few parking places reserved for the ponderers and the solvers and the novel-writers and newspaper readers. But not many. Not enough.
I had another conversation on this topic recently, with another person I like very much and like talking with. This was very enjoyable, if much shoutier. To give you an idea, there were stretches of time during which neither of us heard anything the other one said because we were both talking loudly simultaneously – for minutes.At one point one person said, “I am very humble,” and the other said, “You are the least humble person I know.” Neither of which is true, but all of it was funny. And then we finished that part of the conversation and talked about other things in an easygoing manner for some time.
These conversations reminded me how complicated Pemberton is, including the Gut parking area and its uses. And yet I want what I want. I suspect I won’t get it. Sometimes it is this: They see an orange and I see an apple, and neither of us is wrong.
Catherine Goldhammer is the author of “Still Life with Chickens: Starting over in a House by the Sea.” She lives and writes in Hull.
This article was originally published in the October 10, 2019 edition of the Hull Times.