Daddie always talked (well, I could end the sentence right there, but I'll continue and make a statement relevant to today) about the days when he worked on Governor's Island. He may have taken me there to visit where he worked, but I would have been too young to remember. So when I heard that it would be open for public tours, I decided to go have a look and see if I could get a sense of what it was like for him there, in the what? late 50’s or so? Unfortunately, the Saturday mini-tour did not point out which of the buildings might have been the former GSA printing shop, nor was there any commemorative plaque, nor did our lovely tour guide issue a statement to the effect that "Sidney Reed once worked here."

Nevertheless, I was not disappointed. [Cue theme from F-Troop] Rather, I was amused that in its 350+ years as a fortress for the

Dutch (whose timber industry on the island so ravaged the landscape that the landmass eroded to half its original size, the sold it in a heartbeat when the English invaded because they didn’t really care who they paid the taxes to, they just wanted to get on with their lives)

[“… when, quite accidentally a hero who sneezed, abruptly seized retreat and reversed into victory”]

English (who used the place primarily to house their Royal Governor--hence the name--and for the country homes of the well-positioned)

[“His medal of honor pleased and thrilled his proud little family group”]

and Americans (and when the subways were dug in the late 19th-early-20th century, the Army Corps of Engineers used the excavated land to restore the island to its original size)

Governor's Island never seemed to be involved in any major battles. The forts boasted great technological advances for their times, our tour guide told us, so I'm guessing they must have scared off every single enemy.

[“ …where Indian fights are colourful sights and nobody takes a lickin’…”]

I could have stayed another couple of hours after the 45- minute tour (my wristband assigned me to the 2:30 boat back to Manhattan) but I was hungry and there isn’t even a snack bar on the island (a sign by the restrooms indicated that there was a vending machine inside the waiting area, but that ain't food). Maybe next time I’ll go with friends and we’ll pack a picnic lunch. But today, I headed back to the Seaport and found a Mexican restaurant called “Red” and had a burrito and a blood orange margarita.

[“as long as they all relax in town before they resume with a bang and a boom…”]

Click here to see some of the pictures I took.