Joel Orr's World

by Robert Malone


Abstract: A mystical encounter with a figure from America's past reminds us that the nation's pillars need reconditioning every now and then.

Driving south on the New Jersey Turnpike, a thirst for coffee brought me to a rest stop near Secaucus named after Alexander Hamilton. As I turned off the engine I noticed a figure at the edge of the parking lot, dressed as for a parade in a somewhat wrinkled Colonial costume. I got out of the car, had to pass the man rather close, and noticed that the clothes, although worn, appeared authentic. Maybe he was a movie star or extra. As I passed him he cleared his throat.

"Pardon, Sir, but could you tell me where I am exactly, and why everything appears so out of keeping?" His voice was rather subdued and he had what seemed to be a British accent.

"You are on the New Jersey Turnpike at the Alexander Hamilton rest stop. It is the nature of New Jersey's pike to appear out of keeping," I explained.

"I am familiar with New Jersey, as I spent a good deal of time in various capacities here," the man said.

As he turned toward me, I tried to hide the shock of recognition. Before me stood Alexander Hamilton. "I know who you are, Sir," I stammered.

Alexander Hamilton Revisited on Managing Automation.