By Charles P. Eberson
Senior Moments
A Chinese proverb says, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” At this writing today, I completed a journey that started ten years ago but it was far shorter than a thousand miles. The journey was only one block long in Margate but metaphorically, it was a thousand miles. To those of you who have not seen the Netflix series, Downton Abbey, a story about a family of class and privilege set in 1912-1914, my apologies as you might not fully grasp my struggle. I also recently watched the film, Downton Abbey: A New Era. These programs resonated with me since my Mum was British and did everything she could to raise her sons as Englishmen including bringing us to England every couple years and even enrolling me in school there for a few months. One unintended result was me flunking a spelling test in school when I returned to America because I spelled some words in the way I learned in the English school; colour, flavour, defence for example. Mum marched right into the school and severely dressed down the teacher telling her our language was called English for a reason and not American. It is, in fact, HER error for not teaching the King’s English correctly. My grade was changed. This is an example of the same pride and whit that ran through the series. At times, it seemed like my Mum was writing the dialogue for the show with some of the lines reverberating with me of days gone by. After watching the film, I went to bed with thoughts of the movie, the family dynamics, their struggles, etc. still playing in my head. I awoke at 3:30 in the morning with a sort of epiphany triggered by Downton Abbey, I am sure. I haven’t walked down my old street in Margate in the ten years since we had to sell the property due to our own family dynamics and struggles. It was a beautiful home that housed our family for over fifty years. The fact that we had to sell it broke my heart. But then, it suffered the same fate as many of the grand old houses on our island. It was destroyed and replaced with the white and black cookie cutter houses devoid of character that are permeating our area. During my errands which would take me past Hanover Avenue, I would avert my eyes or reluctantly steal a glance out of the corner of my eye. Today though, I decided it was time to take that first step. It was time to tap into my British heritage and “have a stiff upper lip” to “keep calm and carry on” as they say. I would take that journey, so I drove to Hanover Avenue, parked the car and walked up and down both sides taking it all in. The street felt smaller even though it had only been ten years. The openness that our rancher with the expansive driveway lent to the neighborhood was gone. The street felt claustrophobic. Small houses were replaced with bigger, taller houses. But when I got back in the car, I felt that my journey was complete. A chapter that I did not know was still open, was closed and perhaps I can now move on. Who would have thought a show like Downton Abbey would have been the impetus, a catalyst for such change? Perhaps Mum would have. It was a reminder of the example she set for me and from where I came. I am sure she would have loved the show.
Charles Eberson has been in the newspaper business for over 25 years. He has worked as a writer, advertising executive, circulation manager and photographer. His photography can be viewed at charles-eberson.fineartamerica.com
