freedom tunnel: pants, porn, and poultry
 The
entrance
is a bit foreboding.
Just inside
the tunnel,
sprawled on
the gravel,
stretches
out a dearly
departed dog,
its skin sags
like a smooth
sheet over
its bones.
The dog seems
partially
mummified
by the combination
of darkness
and cool tunnel
air. Aside
from this
gruesome
find, the
tunnel debris
mostly includes
pants and
shoes (the
base ingredient
of any homeless-occupied
area), spray
cans, milk
containers,
stuffed animals,
and of course,
porno mags.
As one travels deeper into the tunnel, the walls become a gallery,
hosting a number of elaborate murals. Most are located on walls
beneath the street grates, making use of the downpour of light.
The subjects vary from typical name tags, to the elaborate Third
of May mural and even a painting in honor of ball player Ted Williams.
I couldn't help but wonder if his family or descendants were aware
of this underground shrine, visible only to the homeless and curious
tunnel explorers.
My companions and I were careful to avoid several trains that passed,
ducking behind emergency exit doorways to avoid the spewing gravel
and dirt from the speeding cars. We ran into no one else until we
tried to exit the way we entered. The only other exit nearby happened
to be in Kenny's 'house.'
The Chicken: Photo Not Available |
As we hustled away, we happened to run across
a most peculiar sight- a bright orange chicken, strutting around
the tunnel like it owned the place. Not just any chicken, either,
but one-ah dem der fancy county fair lookin' birds. Why we hadn't
seen it the first time by and where it came from was a mystery.
In our haste to exit the tunnel and our bafflement over the poultry
sighting, we neglected to take a photo of our feathered friend,
something I truly regret.
We booked it back up the tunnel to return to the alternate exit.
We didn't know how friendly the gatekeeper was, so our navigator
politely called out "Do you have an exit?" and most graciously,
Kenny let us climb up a ladder into his makeshift underground home
to make our escape. He sat smoking a cigarette in his dark cave,
watching the four of us pass by and belly crawl out the narrow hole.
His hospitality was quite appreciated as we inhaled the fresh air
once outside the tunnel. |
