Woonsocket Wilderness

A group of retired old men met at a local diner during the weekdays for breakfast.  During these times they would discuss everything under the sun and solve the complex problems of the universe. “You know Woonsocket was once known for its wildlife.” Old Billy says as he takes a sip of his coffee.  “What wildlife, don’t you mean night life?  Oh but our savior Kevin K. Coleman came to our rescue and took that away.  What a way to rally the troops!”  John a retired postal worker added into the conversation. “John quit being a fresh! Besides, who wants to raise kids in a town that has nothing but bars?  You remember how it was.”  “Yeah Billy, but was it better then or now?” John questioned with a smirk on his face.  “You got a point but still! Anyways, I was meaning to talk about Woonsocket wildlife, because Woonsocket used to be known for 1 particular species.  Before I was rudely interrupted I was saying that as a matter of fact, I heard the day that the St. James hotel burned down a guy had one of them Woonsocket seahawks in a cage.  Them things are near to extinct now but he had one of them.  The thing got out of that there cage and knocked over his ashtray and the cigarette that started the fire.” Billy finished his coffee and motioned for his waitress Constance to re-fill his coffee. 

The door into the diner opens.  “Morning Joe” The regular morning breakfast group says.  Joe takes his seat, “Good morning darling, I’ll take my coffee and an order of raisin toast.” “Sure thing Joe.”  “One more thing Connie, is there anyway you can ask your dad not to burn my toast today?”  “I’ll make sure he doesn’t” John nudged Joe with the back of his fist. “Get a load of the jibberish that Billy’s talking about today.He’s talking about something called a Woonsocket seahawk.”  Joe strokes his chin and laughs a little.” So you mean that you’ve never heard of the Woonsocket seahawk?  That’s what caused the fire at the St. James hotel. The guy that owned it fell asleep with a cigarette lit. He left the door to the cage open and the thing knocked over the ashtray onto his mattress.  Poor thing died in the fire.”  John made a face, “that’s what Billy said, I think that your both full of it.”  Billy shook his head up and down and felt the need to get back into the conversation.  “Nope that’s the story and it’s the truth.  Ray you heard the same thing right?”  So far Ray a retired policeman was quiet. 

Ray began to talk.  One thing to note is that though Ray was a retired policeman he always had aspirations of being a speaker or preacher, or something public.  He had a bad habit of talking and using his hands in shaking and sweeping motions, to some it could include a slap or two when he got passionate about something.  He sort of resembled the pope benedict taking light in that fact. “I was on patrol the day that the St. James Hotel burned down.  I remember the morning, it was quiet I had given out a couple of tickets to some people speeding on Harris ave.  I remember getting the call from dispatch and then seeing the smoke in the air.  The good thing was that nothing else caught on fire because that was a pretty big building.  But yeah, I remember hearing that a bird knocked over the ashtray that started the fire.  I even remember seeing a fireman carry out a birdcage, said it was in the room where the fire started.”

Billy happy as a clam looked over to John laughed a little and said, “Well there you go!” John looking a little angry at the odds of the crowd fought back, “Just because they found a cage doesn’t mean it was a stupid Woonsocket seahawk.”  Ray put out both hands and said,”Woah oh don’t be angry just because your wrong.”  “I’m not angry, I’m just sayin that there aint no such thing as no Woonsocket seahawk.  Constance go get your father!”  Constance was in the middle of making her coffee refill rounds.  The old men loved Constance.  She was quick and always in a good mood, not to mention was a pretty woman.  If she did have one flaw, it was that she had a slight hint of a mustache, but these old men weren’t so superficial.  Constance or Connie was in her early 30’s as her parents had her late in life. The old men liked how when she talked to them they felt like they were the only person in the room.  She liked good tips, so attention seemed to be part of the job.  She opened the door to the kitchen and called for her father to come out front. 

“Phil, I need you to solve something for me.” John said.  It was easy to see the heightened frustration in his demeanor.  “These guys are ganging up on me today telling me some stupid story of a Woonsocket seahawk.  Ever heard of it?”  Phil was a bit of grump and in his late 70’s but moved like a man in his 40’s.  He sat down on the opposite side of the counter.  “Oh yeah I remember that old Woonsocket seahawk, pesky bastards. You know one of them started the fire that burned down the St. James hotel!”  The group except for John erupted in laughter.  “I aint laughin! You bunch of miserable bastards.” John got up angrily and took a few steps toward the door.  Ray stood up and swept his hands in musical fashion. “Cmon Johnny, you can’t be mad.  We’re not mad.  As a matter of fact were happy. You see hahahaha.”  “Your laughin at me”  “No… were not laughing at you, were laughing with you.” Ray said sarcastically and he sat back down. Billy the oldest and unofficial leader of the group spoke, “John, quit being a baby and sit back down.” “Yeah sit back down.” The chorus of the other three added. “I don’t care what you do just pay your bill first.” Phil spoke before he headed back to the kitchen shaking his head in disbelief.  “How the hell can an old man act like a child?” The group heard being yelled from the kitchen area. “You better not order toast today John.” Joe said and the group laughed. 

The door to the diner opened again.  “Morning Norman!” the group except for John called.  Norman a heavily decorated retired Naval officer walked into the room.  Norman was in his 80’s but walked with strength and dignity.  Although angry, John always respected Norman’s opinion.  “I have a question for you” John slowly started to speak.  “If I were to say Woonsocket seahawk, what would you say.”  “I owned one.” This time there was no laughing but acknowledging eye engages and smiles.  John was quiet this time and trying to calm himself.  “When you say that you owned one what do you mean?”  John started to do his best impression of an investigative reporter.  “I mean that during the War a bunch of us sailors brought some seahawks with us to Woonsocket.  During the war I was stationed in the Pacific.  A group of us wanted something to remind us of our time over there.  Seahawks were about the fiercest flying sea creatures and a local had captured a bunch of them.  He gave us them for free.  We weren’t supposed to take them, but our superiors looked the other way.  Woonsocket was a fun town then and it’s where we went to celebrate.  Some of the dolts let the birds go, and soon the term Woonsocket Seahawk was adopted.”  “How come I don’t remember hearing anything about them or seeing any?” John asked.

“It was a secret because we weren’t supposed to bring them here and something that my commanding officer negotiated to keep quiet.  Soon enough though, they began to take on a life and history of their own.”  John’s mood lightened and he finally felt like he was uncovering a good story.  “So if this is all legend, where are they today?” “Buy my breakfast and I’ll tell you the full story.”  “Hey Constancinople, Normans breakfast will be paid for by me today, let him have what he wants.”  “Oh big spender Johnny want to pay for mine too” Ray said and Joe seconded.  “What am I made of money? Pitch in to pay for Norman’s breakfast since you all are going to listen to his story too.”  Bill fidgeted a bit reached for his wallet and dropped a $20 bill on the counter, “You miserly sons of bitches, what ever this buys including mine is what it buys. You guys are always hands out and never hands in.”  “Bill you’re a gentleman and a scholar.” Joe quickly countered, but didn’t hesitate to accept his breakfast toast and coffee to be paid for.  Of course Bill wasn’t angry, but he hated bickering about money.  It’s one of the reasons why he didn’t listen to local am radio.  When he did he’d only listen to one local radio show, and that was because the fool that hosted the program did impersonations and sang songs and was different than the other hosts.  Bill liked the perspective and life that charisma and honesty brings.

Bill had finished his coffee a few minutes prior and had a thirst.  He held up his glass, “Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink.”  They called over Constance to order their breakfast.  “Connie where were you 50 years ago when I was on the market” Billy said with all the charm that he could muster.  “Where were you yesterday when all the customers were grumpy?” Connie replied.  ”Good one!” Ray pointed to her and motioned back to Billy “If I were her husband I wouldn’t let her around good looking fellas like us.”  She winked at Ray and took his order. 

Norman ordered breakfast and lunch for later.  He figured why not take advantage of a good opportunity.  He could tell stories at anytime to just about anyone that he wanted to.  Discipline and personal preference gave him the right temperament and ego that needed no stroking.  For this reason he was mostly a man of little words.  Today was different and he welcomed the conversation. Meanwhile; Constance completed her order taking and coffee refills and headed for the kitchen.  As she went into the kitchen Phil popped his head out through the double doors.  For years Phil and Norman held an unspoken rivalry.  Phil served in the Marines and Norman the Navy, this made rivals of sorts.  Years ago, Billy made the observation to Joe in explaining their situation was like they were brothers that lived in the same house, but spent their time in different rooms. They only really talked when they were in the dining room together.  In this case, it was true.  They both held respect for one another, but were men of discipline.  “I want to know when Norman starts his story.” Phil said to his daughter. 

Constance briskly walked back out front and told Norman to hold his story until after breakfast is served because her dad wanted to hear it.  Norman just nodded his head in response.  The group swayed in their seats at the non spoken enormity of the gesture.  Changing the subject to fill the silence and time John started to speak, “So I’m in traffic yesterday around the time when the school gets out and I’m looking at the kids walking home from school.  You know not the first ones that are walking home but the ones that start walking 15 minutes after school gets out.” He starts to get red in the face as he is talking and wipes his mouth with a napkin and crunches it in his hand. “So I’m looking at these kids and they got pants sagging like they took a wet poop in them and were walking with a limp. I’m thinking these kids don’t have a clue.  I’ll tell you this, they might be kids but I don’t like any of them.”  “Tell me about it. I have neighbors who have kids like that.  Five years ago they were good kids, but now it’s like every other word out of their mouth is motherfer this and motherfer that. I’d like to rinse their mouths out with soap.” Joe says in disgust.  “John we both know what it’s like living near the projects, its the same situation but different today.  We dressed better, but remember that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of god.  They’re still just kids.  It’s a lack of parental discipline and the influence of a bad neighborhood.  When you add all of that tv and computerized business and then you got today’s culture. We had the service and the church and school was even different then.  It’s sad because I’ve seen generations of this.  Most of the kids are good, just looking to fit into something.  Some out grow their awkwardness, and some make victims of the awkward ones.”  Ray comments while waving and ringing his hands.  “I agree Ray, but they’re letting everything go to hell and I can’t stand it.  At least in the old days, the mills provided jobs to some of the lost ones.” John exclaimed and finally releases his napkin.  “What are you going to do?  Things change but stay the same.  These kids will eventually learn and probably the hard way, just like a lot of people that we know. All I can say is this, if I were a kid and got into a fight I want to fight one of them low pants kids.”  Joe finalized.  There was a laugh around the group and a sigh of frustration as well. 
Breakfast was served to the group and Phil had the other cook handle the orders.  “Norman, you can tell us the story now.” Bill announced.  Norman began his story, “Well, as I said earlier a group of us sailors got some seahawks while we were stationed on the pacific coast.  We got them for free with the cages and brought them back with us.  I stayed with some relatives in the North End and Elle slept in her cage.  That’s what I named my bird.  She ate just about whatever I gave to her but mostly small rodents.  I’ll tell you that there’s no handling with kid gloves on this one.  You need thick leather ones.  Their talons were sizeable and beaks sharp.  Needless to say, these birds were never meant to reside in Woonsocket or to be personal pets.  We were brave soldiers, not necessarily smart men.  Anyway, eventually the birds became too much for the owners to handle so some let them loose. On the other hand I kept mine, because I was good with a bird like Elle.  You’d be amazed at how a man and a bird of prey can form an attachment.

Well, it soon became 1950 and I was shipped to Korea.  I built a coop and kept it in the city.  Everyone knew each other then and was ok with the bird staying in the coop.  My brother Dave was in charge of taking care of the bird when I was gone.  In truth there was no promise of my return because from what we heard, Korea was bad.  I made my peace with Elle and said my goodbye’s to my family.  I was deployed to the Korean pacific and by the grace of god, I lived to come back. 

By the time that I had come back in 1953 unfortunately some things had changed.  While I was gone, it appears that the loose birds had begun a dominance war and were multiplying.  My bird Elle, was stolen by some drunk thinking it fun to steal things.  I knew who it was because he was eying Elle for some time before I was deployed.  Thou shalt not covet doesn’t apply to people that don’t care about anything but themselves.  Anyway, that was one of the things that I was really angry about and the drunk was already near death by the time I returned.  In rememberance I got a tattoo of Elle on my chest but it looked like an eagle, so that’s that I told people that it was.  But so you all know, it’s really a tattoo of Elle.”  The group was silent and stunned with the candor and openness of the self revealing story so far.  “Don’t let me stop you all from eating.  I’m going to continue with my story.” 

“Elle was no longer my bird, but Woonsocket was well underway in its wildlife fight.  When I was deployed, the birds that got loose started to nest and develop territories.  At the time the seagull population was quite large.  Quicker than seemed possible, the seagull population disappeared in the city.  They were still there when I got back and it was something to watch.  A seagull is a pretty big bird but they would get plucked out of the sky by these Woonsocket seahawk.  I’d say that I felt a bit guilty, but I must admit it was fun to watch.  The people in the city were already alarmed, but no people were hurt and their pets were still safe.  Soon though, the well known turkey vultures that you see on top of the buildings today were in battle with the seahawks.
The territorial battles between the Woonsocket seahawks and turkey vulture should have been something for the record books.  I don’t know where all of the turkey vultures came from but they seem to be flocking to the city.The Woonsocket seahawk is a very protective animal so these battles would be flying collisions of violence.  The Woonsocket seahawk was slightly larger in size but the turkey vultures would gather in numbers.  It wasn’t that rare to wake up one morning walk or drive down the street and see lots of bird feathers bits of talon and bird parts scattered everywhere.  On more than one occasion, I’d find severed turkey vulture heads on the side of the road.  The Woonsocket seahawk was a smarter bird than the turkey vulture and when they were wounded would try to hide and die in solitude.  I wouldn’t be so surprised if whole seahawk skeletons could be found today.  Well, some time went on and things started to simmer down.  All wars end and that applies to nature as well.  By the late 50’s there appeared to be a natural agreement between the Woonsocket seahawk and the turkey vulture.  There were barriers of where each species could be seen.  Some of the Woonsocket residents started hunting the seahawk because of their menacing nature.  By 1962 when I retired from the Navy, a new type of bird started to fly the skies in the Woonsocket.  Since I was involved with the introduction of the seahawk and history, I kept in contact with a Navy biologist.  One of the local residents shot one the new birds with a 22 and brought it to me.  I brought the carcass down to the Navy biologist.

The new bird was a weird sort.  It had the size and symmetry of the Woonsocket seahawk, but the head of a turkey vulture, it was a dorky looking thing.  During the examination of the animal the scientist came to the conclusion that it was a hybrid species.  He was baffled actually because it wasn’t thought that these two species of bird could interbreed.  However; the proof was evident in the carcass of the bird.  It was then that the complications of my groups original celebratory trophy taking had its consequences.  Unlike the turkey vulture or Woonsocket seahawk the newly classified sea vulture was had a different set of behavior habits and territorial boundries. These were a resourceful bird but dangerous as well.  At first, when local residents had contact of this new species they called them gutter birds.  For some reason this new bird wasn’t as menacing to other wildlife but went for the easier food source; trash.  I mean don’t get me wrong, it was still a predator, but seemed almost seagull like in its like for trash.  It really became a nuisance in the city.  By 1965 things started to change in Woonsocket and so did the people’s temperament in relation to birds such as the Woonsocket seahawk and Sea vulture.  So, it was agreed upon that these birds needed to be eliminated.  Of course I understand their sentiment, but I disagreed with their judgement.  Soon enough though, every drunk with a gun was at it taking target practice with the poor birds. 

Remember that it’s Woonsocket, so nothings really a science and remember the source of who was hunting them.  Sure enough though, by 1970 it was hard to find these birds.  I wasn’t so sentimental on the seahawk though I did bring one here and was sentimental about her.  I knew that there was a large population of them on the west coast so in following the biologists lead we didn’t aim to capture them. However; the sea vulture was a new species that was still a mystery and for scientific reasons was worth saving.  We set up nests on my property.  It was actually a bunch of old tents that I had gotten for free from a military depot.  My lawn stunk a bit because I used old fish heads and fish tails to lure them in.  Remember, I said that they liked food that they didn’t have to work for.  There was a netting system created by the biologist to keep them trapped in the tent once they were inside.  A few weeks had passed and luckily we captured about a dozen of them.  My biologist friend took them from that point and brought them in for research.  That’s my story of the Woonsocket seahawk and sea vulture!”

The breakfast group were mesmerized with the detailed and enthralling description of Normans story.  During the story the men stopped eating their breakfast, not out of loss of appetite, but out of not wanting to miss any part of the story.  John was the first one to speak, “Norman why’d you stop your story so long ago?  Didn’t you keep in contact with your scientist friend?” “Occasionally” “So what happened to the birds?”  John inquired.
“He kept some in captivity for research and let some free in the coastal area of one particular city, but that’s been secret. Anyway, from all I know the Woonsocket seahawk is no longer the Woonsocket seahawk.  The one that started and died in the St. James hotel fire was the last time that I heard of one in this area.  So, that is the story of the Woonsocket seahawk.”  “Show us your tattoo!” John said like a belligerent child.  Norman looked at John a little strangely and unbuttoned his collared shirt and showed his tattoo that spanned across his chest.  “Well it does kind of look like an eagle” John opined.  No one in the group Phil included who was still seated spoke.  John was the only one that questioned the story.  “Alright, so if this bird was loosed into the along a coastal city, which one is it, are they still around, what do they eat, and why don’t they talk about it?”  The group started coughing and murmuring. Norman lifted a hand for them to calm down and like clockwork, they did!  “First, they got released near Fall River the battleship cove area.  The Braga bridge seemed like a good spot for their original release.  They are still around, but as it turns out they are nocturnal creatures.  I’m sure that somewhere along the lines people talk about them, but they aren’t hazardous to people and might even help them in some way.”  “How’s that?” “Well as it turns out the sea vulture is the number one predator of jelly fish, and the beach community there seem to like that fact.  They keep the jelly fish population down and stay out of the way of people during the daytime.  This resourcefulness has helped them to not be hunted as they were here in Woonsocket.  That is the end of my story. Now don’t you feel lucky?”  “One last question Norman, I’ve known you for decades why have you never spoken of this?”  “Because till now I don’t talk, I’m in my 80’s and it seem the right time to blab.  My only other time was with Boats my friend that passed away, but we served together and he knew already.” 

With that Constance filled up a new cup of coffee to go for Norman and handed it to him.  He didn’t drink anything from start to finish of his story.  Phil finally stood looked Norman in the eye and said, “Good story.  Tomorrow breakfast is free.”  Phil walked back to the kitchen.  The rest of the group was pretty much speechless.  They did start to finish their cold breakfast though.  “That was a good story” Bill said.  A few minutes had passed and it was about time to leave. “Norman it really was a pleasure to have heard that story, I felt like I learned something today.” John said questioning himself for being angry earlier. Ray stood up and figured to break the seriousness.  “John, you know you got off of paying for breakfast today, but if you want to pay for mine tomorrow, I’ll tell you a good story.”  The group looked at each other expecting something good except for John.  “Oh yeah, what story would that be?”  “Well of the time that I arrested Boo Boo Steamer, but that he bent the bars with his bear hands and walked out of the Woonsocket Police Station.” Ray said shaking his hands free. The group laughed and John did too but murmured under his breath.  “I don’t recall a time when we all were so quiet and ready to leave.” Billy said “Yeah, it feels like we just went to church” Joe commented, and the group left the diner together that day.