When a low raspy alarm sounded outside, I learned from the guy next to me that it was from the nearby fire station. "A fire or a life squad run", he said. A few seconds later, a fellow a few stools away declared that it was either a fire or a wreck on the Thruway. Life squad runs used a different pattern. After a few more seconds passed, a portable scanner carried by one of the men at the counter informed us that it was a dryer fire at such and such address. "Gotta clean the lint out of those things", someone offered then went back to discussing the price of old firearms with his neighbor. Probably a fairly typical morning at a diner where the rules are clear.

As I struggled to see any scythe remains, I heard a "Need some help?" from the nearby porch. It was current tree owner Ed Johnson who gladly offered to point out what there is to see. The WW I era scythes have essentially been entirely swallowed by the tree although there are faded paint swatches at the points where they were last seen. The tip of the first hung scythe is sort of visible in the middle of the green swatch although you wouldn't know that by looking. I didn't make the name connection until after I'd left so failed to ask if Ed and James are related. I'm guessing not because Ed and I talked for quite a bit and he didn't mention it. He did mention his concern about big chunks of the aging tree falling on his head although the local historical society claims some sort of ownership and prevents him from trimming or bracing it.

It may be that the story of the gobbled up WW I scythes isn't exactly as presented on the plaque. According to a 1927 newspaper article, they were "removed when both returned home".

Back at Jeannie's Dream Motel I was pleasantly surprised to find the wi-fi working quite well. I had asked if internet was available and was assured that it was. "All we have to do is turn it on," they said as I drove off to dinner. Now, in my cozy room, I wondered why I ever doubted.