Chapter one of the story is a chapter of ours. Not a prologue.
The Navesink lived along this shore for thousands of years before
the first sail. Longer than any other era of human life you can
name here. The Minisink Trail came down out of the Delaware and
ended right about where we are standing. It was a summer path.
Families came for the fish, for the shellfish. There is a very
old translation of the word Navesink that means good fishing place.
I believe it. The middens are up and down this shore, and every
midden is a summer camp made permanent by patience. Contact was
brutal. Dispossession followed, and the Sand Hill families carried
the thread through it all. We are still here. You are welcome to
tell this story. You are not welcome to tell it without us.