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Our Point Short Stories

Our Point Short Stories by Linus Ward Walton, Sr. 

When our family first moved to the area, we were introduced to Skaneateles Lake by neighbors who had a camp – truly, a “camp,” as in, pumped water, no electricity, and you needed to get there via a boat from the Lourdes Camp point. It was peaceful, plenty of water-skiing, the water was deep and cold, and we had no idea how lucky we were to be able to enjoy such a wonder of nature.

So as I read this collection of short stories, set along the banks, in the water, and among the people of the villages along its banks, I was reminded of those long summer days basking in the sun, driving the boat, learning to water ski, and counting the stars in the sky at night.

For some reason, the stories put me in mind of a moment there I’ll always remember: our friend’s father, who dearly loved the lake house, arrived one afternoon via the small outboard motor boat the family kept docked near Lourdes Camp, and while in my mind he was steering the little outboard it was probably one of his kids. Nevertheless, he had stripped to his shorts on the ride, and as the boat neared shore he rose up – a big man – and dove into the water even as the boat made its way to the dock. I was shocked and amused, and he surfaced within seconds, spluttering and laughing.

These stories – some of them light, some serious, some painted with a fine brush – put me in mind of those snapshots in time, especially when we are in a magical place, that remain with us, deep in the cold water of our memory, and surfacing when something pulls them up to live again.

The very first story, “And Just Swim!” is one of those that pulls a lake memory, wet and shivery, up from the depths. Walton’s description of “the drop off” could be applied to many lake stories, but is something anyone who has swum Skaneateles Lake will know well. The lake in many spots literally “drops off” quickly from the shore, and quickly goes from a few rocky feet in depth to over 100. A long, narrow lake, this tale reminds us of days spent learning to fish, swimming in chilly water knowing there is nothing below you for yards and yards, and finally the challenge of – I can see the other shore, can I swim to it?

Another story takes us to a family get-together at a local restaurant, and the little ceremonies and signals that only families can share, both the sweet and the sour.

There are stories told about and from the vantage point of the very young, and the very old. Of summer residents and year-round. Coming of age, digging for treasure and burying old secrets. The writer explores people and places, and also the craft of writing a short story. Some of the entries are vignettes – a description that can call up a cold night near Christmas, or a noisy bar near closing. Others are fully-realized tales with a beginning, a challenge, and a resolution. Others are sketches that leave you to fill in with a memory – like that of a large man diving out of a moving boat on a late summer afternoon – of your own.

And while some of the stories are serious, even sad, as I read another memory came to mind: a young girl (me) accompanied her dad on a business trip one summer day, no doubt to get her out from underfoot of her mother. After the business call was made, a side trip took the father-daughter team to visit “Skinny-Atlas” Lake, the cause of much merriment for the child – that any lake of such majesty and beauty could be “skinny.”

The best part of reading this collection for any Central New York reader is that you’ll finish the book with your own set of memories of your point on at least one of its beautiful lakes. Enjoy.

Nancy Roberts