All too often we take for granted the secondary, or even tertiary, costs of our decisions. While upfront consequences may be good, rewarding you with that sweet dopamine, years later they can come back to bite you, or your children, in the butt.
A family member of mine regaled me of the fond memories he had of a number of water holes and reservoirs he and his family used to frequent. Gone are the days of such homogeneous leisure, now that the majority of these have now been closed due to a number of factors ranging from dropping attendance to health and safety concerns.
One of the more famous of those spots was Moore’s Lake, located off Jefferson Davis Highway in Chester, Virginia. Moore’s Lake was opened in 1958 and drew crowds from all over the East Coast. A man-made lake with a sandy bottom, slides and plenty of small guest cottages, it was touted as a closer Virginia Beach to locals and just an all around good spot for those traveling up and down “Number One” highway. For years it stood as a beautiful place for locals to relax and for people to vacation from all over.
Being segregated since its foundation, Moore’s Lake stood fast until about 1975, and within ten years of desegregation, it closed down permanently. The opening of Interstate 95 drew away the bulk of traffic from Jeff Davis, a different class of people started to collect there, and a swath of foreign pathogen outbreaks related to public swimming holes all spelled its doom. The lake, and its surrounding properties, became a trailer park and was recently bought by a developer with eyes on a giant apartment complex.
A place which had once been the focus of so much joy and merriment by folks all around went downhill in short fashion due to the politics of this new age. Mandatory integration drove off some, the newer and faster interstate sucked away the through traffic and the threat of infection encroached upon the safety of those who once swam without worry. Meningitis, being one of the more concerning developments, that popped up in this time could apparently thrive in the warm, shallow man-made swimming holes. While bouts of meningitis does, and did, occur in the West from time to time, it seems to originate in a strip of the northern African continent – you do the math.
The vacant properties and businesses in the area have long since been bought up by a menagerie of Hispanic restaurants and trailer parks. Such are the consequences of modernity, where the prioritization of travel and mandatory inclusion, can kill something beautiful. The joys in which my father and others of his generation partook have largely been erased. Very little of his described childhood matched with mine, simply because many of the things he enjoyed have long since been discarded or trampled.
Welcome to the decline.
-By Dixie Anon
O I’m a good old rebel, now that’s just what I am. For this “fair land of freedom” I do not care at all. I’m glad I fit against it, I only wish we’d won, And I don’t want no pardon for anything I done.
