There's No Place Like Home, Remembering Joe

I’ve never found it particularly easy to travel to any island I’ve visited. On a recent vacation my best friend was less than thrilled at the idea of traveling to our final destination, in a “puddle-jumper” plane. Then of course there are tolls, bridges, and in unique cases, a ferry. However you may get there, it never seems effortless. Yet, most people vacation on islands in search of simplicity and bliss. Then there are those of us whom are lucky enough to call an island home.

Year after year the ferry gates open and ferry tickets welcome a rite of passage for tourists and visitors alike. This weekend the gates will open for an extraordinary group of visitors, Although they are set to arrive this afternoon, a sense of community has already set in across the island, bound not by blood but by sheer admiration.

Each of us has a “Joe Story.” Rewind 12 years back: I am walking with Joe through Mashomack Preserve on a school trip. At this time in our lives girls had cooties, or at least that’s what the boys thought. The boys took one road, while the girls took another, and as Joe walked next to me I asked why he went with us girls. He replied simply, “sometimes you just have to take a different road.”

Years later, I spent a weekend skiing with Joe and friends. In another boy vs. girl event, Joe took off down a double black diamond while we looked on and wondered how on earth we were going to get down. Again, he took the road less traveled.

As a small community, we have learned from Joe to take the road less traveled. This weekend community members have given up their homes for the visitors, while others are taking days off from work and volunteering for the many events that will take place. From South Ferry, across the island and onto the North Ferry, colors of red, white and blue will billow upon the troop’s arrival from Fort Drum. 

Any visitor can attest—it is often a long journey to “our” island. The palm trees are near invisible, and I certainly haven’t seen any coconuts lining the beach, but I assure you; this is paradise. And while, I have spent an infinite amount of time waiting for the ferry, crossing the ferry, and then waiting for the ferry again, it is after a long day that I board the vessel Lt. Joseph Theinert that I am happy to call Shelter Island home.