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Once in a while through my poems,I journey back into times and places where I have been and will always have fond memories.I would like to share them with you. We look at our Gloucester today as a mini-metropolis,with its varied condos, and myriad of restaurants. Sadly;Gloucester is also becoming a tourist town. I mean not that tourism isn't good,but we tend to sideline those family town values held in years past.
I am reflecting on the lessons that were passed onto me when I was but a boy. The Kyrouz's were a fine example of these values.Many a family would have starved without them,from the fishern who lived and worked most of their life on the sea.To wive's and mothers at home with children beside them,waiting for their men to return,or the families with barely any income who were almost daily fed through the Kyrouz's generosity and trust.
Those now past days our city was being served by this fine family, in part they were the very inner core of the City Clerk's office. In my journey back I also recall the Linsky Brothers, who were all hard working from sunrise to near dark of night. The first I remember was brother Joe. I can see him riding around the junk yard with the old junk pick of the week. The Setiline tanks banging up and down as he hit each bump or hole in the yard. We next have brother Rem, who in my realy early days of my youth was a mentor. I myself invisioned him to the likes of Abraham Lincoln. The next brother we have is Ben, and his expertise at finding metal and coins without a metal detector. Ben you might say was the yard manager ,nothing slipped by him. The brother I worked with the most was Morris, or Mort as he was called for short. I loved it when I would go out collecting rags and paper with him . I also loved it when we would stop at places like George's on Washington st, or the Station Lunch and many many more. As kids we never made much working , but one sure did eat. This is what the Linsky brothers were better known for , as long as you ate what they bought. I also enjoyed the ride once a week to Chelsea , as they took stack upon stack of crushed cars. Thinking back on my travels with Mort , I remember how Mort like to save money. When we used to come back from collecting rags and papers around he Cape,Mort would have me on the top of the pile , holding it down as he shut the engine of and we would coast from great Hill to almost the Gloucester Line.
So there you have it for now from the Kyrouz's to the Linsky's, two families that helped make Gloucester a great place to live. My Sargent St. holds many memories , mostly good but some sad . It was a street you could leave your doors unlocked . It is a street with its past population part of the very core that guides us from day to day Until the next journey, see you then

Peter A. Todd