Demolished

I have a nephew living in New York who offered to make a short documentary or book trailer. (Shout out to Casey of Lamp & Boat.) I replied, thanks, but there's a problem. Except for his grave at the Greenwood Cemetery in Brooklyn, most of Jack de Saulles's world has been demolished.

Bethlehem Steel works factory in Pennsylvania, where he grew up, is a quiet, rusty, abandoned blight on the landscape.. The local historical society gives tours.

I think the luxury Nassau Hotel on the Long Beach boardwalk is gone, too.

The (hyphenated) Waldorf-Astoria hotel where he and Blanca attended a spectacular charity ball in 1914 and danced the waltz under glittering chandeliers, was demolished in 1931 to make way for the Empire State Building.

The Union Club - that all-male sanctuary where John socialized and smoked cigars with the Blue Book gentlemen of New York's upper crust - moved to a new building in the 30s.

The Meadow Brook polo and fox hunt club, where John took little Jack to practice riding on a scaled down pony, also closed down in the 1930s or 1940s. A new country club opened in Long Island later, calling itself the Meadowbrook club in homage to the old one. But the grassy fields where Big Jack and Little Jack laughed, and played with dogs, and tossed a football back and forth, are paved under the expressway and flattened by the foundations of condos.

I am still trying to pin down the location of his last home, "The Box" on Long Island where Blanca shot him. I don't know if it's still there, or if it's been remodeled beyond recognition, or demolished.

It's ironic that a man's whole life - everything he thought was solid and real - can be crushed by a wrecking ball and pushed away by shovels. The only thing left is a grave.