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1998-06-18 - 20:00:51

Visiting Kerouac

Went to see Jack today on the way back to Bryan's from Maine -- leaving Maine still has that same throat-swelling feeling it always did. Who wouldn't hesitate when leaving such wonderful pristine surroundings, not to mention great family. I always miss them.

But coming back I made the stop in Lowell, found the National Park office and got directions (and maps) to get me to the Canal Park, the immigrant exhibit, the Grotto, the high school and the cemetery. I found Moody St., Lupine and Beil -- however you spell it, too, but didn't take the time to see it all -- saves something for next time.

Driving around Lowell was like touring Graceland. Kerouac can be felt all over that town the way Elvis was at his home -- I saw in my mind Ti Jean walking with Gerard to the Grotto, tucked under the shade of those trees by the Merrimac -- Jack was also at the high school, always remembered by that clock.

Reading the inscriptions in the memorial park brought him to life even more -- especially reading from The Town And The City. Too bad I let that annoying couple stare at me -- I should've read all the pillars (next time).

And the cemetery, far from Lowell center and the Kerouac homes, but large and peaceful. His gravestone (flat, simple granite) decorated with flowers, pennies, cigarette butts, Sam Adams Cherry Wheat (don't know if Jack even drank that) and one rain-soaked piece of paper. I left one of my own, too.

Can't forget the museum, with Jack's rucksack, utensils, socks and typewriter. Now I'll definitely have to go to the New York Public Library and see his handwritten adventures.

And I reminded him:

"When you get to the top of the mountain, keep climbing.

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