I spent a most enjoyable weekend with my family in Callicoon last Saturday and decided to ride down Route 97 on my way home. It was a real trip down memory lane.  As I drove down Route 97, I remembered my grandmother telling me that the road was constructed largely due to the efforts of Guernsey T. Cross. 

A quick online search revealed that Cross had written a series of articles for the Harvard Crimson in 1933 with these biographical details: “Mr. Cross was born in Neversink, New York, and educated at the Ellenville High School. He received his degree from the University of Cornell Law School, where he was selected for the All-American Basketball team. He was elected six times to the New York State Assembly and was personal secretary to President Roosevelt during his term as Governor of New York State. Recently he has been appointed Assistant Solicitor General in the Department of Justice in the Reconstruction Finance Corporation. He resides in Washington.”

Cross was working for Governor Roosevelt in 1930 when Route 97 was officially opened between Port Jervis and Callicoon. I’m sure Grandma and Grandpa were at the celebration.

But I digress.  As I made my way down 97, I stopped in Lackawaxen to see the Roebling Aqueduct and the Zane Grey Museum. I always thought that Roebling built a bridge over the Delaware, but it was actually an aqueduct to transport the boats over the river on the Delaware and Hudson Canal. The aqueduct was needed so that timber rafting down the Delaware—an important industry at the time—would not be impeded.

I drove across the now-bridge and then drove to the nearby Zane Grey Museum, which unfortunately doesn’t open till May. (I pray that it will reopen, given the mayhem in D.C., since it is a National Park Service site.)

Back on the road, I finally reached the famous Hawk’s Nest, which soars 300 feet above the Delaware River. It never fails to impress. Soon I was in Deerpark and finally Port Jervis, the home of my late husband John’s family. I drove past their house on Erie Street in the West End, from which John’s Grandfather Witt would walk to his job with the Erie Railroad. I passed the chime clock bank on Front Street, where John worked for years, now The Reserve Cocktail Lounge.

I drove down Front Street and Jersey Avenue to St. Mary’s Cemetery to visit the graves of my in-laws, David and Rosemary Werner. A flag flew next to their headstone, honoring David’s service in World War II. 

My final stop in Port Jervis was at the former Port Jervis Country Club, now The Lynx at River Bend, a place my husband and I spent many happy hours. It was there that John taught himself to play golf, after an outing with his aunt and her boyfriend one day. From then on, he set his mind to learning the game, throwing his cloth bag of golf clubs over his shoulder and riding his bike three-and-a-half miles from his home in West End to the club as often as he could. His golf game was superlative, a tribute to his lifelong dedication and determination.

It was a wonderful, albeit bittersweet, trip down memory lane.