Into the Mystic
English Center always had a captivating feel… you’d roll down that last hill, over Lick Run and then over Little Pine Creek. You didn’t anticipate the weather… It could be bright sun and warmth on your shoulders, with Wayne Shorter and “A Remark You Made” trickling in your head. Or, snow and sleet and a knot in your stomach after a four- hour drive, but either way it was a relief to arrive.
We would slip into a place of cool streams, fond memories and a smoky bar that for three generations, felt like our home.
If we were lucky, the smiling face of the owner and friend would greet us. Other times the dark eyes and momentary glances of the local-folk hailed a silent, flatlander welcome. Either way we didn’t care, we were into the mystic.
Some of us visit English Center… Some of us live for it. Some of us lived there and left. But there’s no mistaking… It is an impressionable place. I guess people do run through English Center, but there are some of us who English Center runs through us.
Thom
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