by Gerald Singer seestjohn.com
Stories from St. John Virgin Islands in the 1970s
I present here some short anecdotes. Little stories of my life on St. John, which I hope will serve to capture something of the feel for the island life on St. John during the 1970s, at least my take on it.
Mom’s phone call:
I was living at the top of the hill on Centerline Road just outside of Cruz Bay in a small apartment I rented from Captain Jurgins, a colorful St. John old-timer with a heart of gold.
It was late afternoon, we had finished pulling the fish pots,selling the fish and putting the boat away, when I heard, “Inside.” Then a knock on the door. Not the normal, is anyone home knock, but a authoritative knock … bap, bap, bap! kind of loud and insistent.
“Who is it?” I asked
” ‘afternoon, open up, I want to talk to you.”
It was a policeman.
My pulse quickened, “What did I do?” I thought to myself. I couldn’t think of anything, but I was nervous anyway.
I opened the door.
“Look here,” said the officer. “We just got a call down at the station and it was your momma. She’s worried about you. She wants you to call. What’s the matter with you boy? You need to respect you mother. You need to call.”
In fact, I hadn’t called in about a week. But, in my defense, I didn’t have a phone, the pay phones worked sometimes, but often were out of order. My mom had no way of getting in touch with me outside of writing me a letter, so she came up with the idea of calling the Police Station
OK officer, I’ll call today. Thanks for stopping by.
“Don’t make me come up here again,” he said and he flashed a short, friendly smile as he turned to walk up the driveway.