19
Creeley had a local reputation as “a character.”
Born just prior to the Wall Street crash that led to the Great Depression in what was then called Paterson General hospital, Creeley attended local public schools, including the local community college, but never got the necessary degrees to qualify him for any legitimate position.
He loved to scrounge around, always searching for the roots of things. He spent a great deal of time among the dusty volumes at William Paterson College’s historic archive, and even more time among old timers, from which he learned more about Paterson’s rich history than any other living being.
He was possessed with knowing everything there was to know about every part of Paterson's history, going back as far as written records went, and when he expired those, he sought out whatever folk tales he could get from the Native American tribes, often traveling to the archives in Newark.
Hutchenson claimed Jackson had everything necessary for a first class historian except the degrees and the social skills.
Creeley was blunt to a fault and offended most people who came into contact with him, making more than a few enemies as a result.
He was also well-known as a child molester, although in the 1950s and 1960s, when he was most active, locals feared scandal and kept the matter hushed up.
His brief flirtation with the opposite sex led to marriage, and later, divorce, but not before the birth of a son, Puck. The mother, a promiscuous barfly changed the boy’s last name back to her maiden name in the vain hope that the boy might forget the association.
Puck never did, and soon found himself abandoned by both parents once his mother latched onto another man. Creeley tried to lure the boy back, even tried to make up for his previous sexual advances. But the memory was so tattooed onto Puck’s consciousness, that Puck refused, learning he could find more safety on the street than he could in a so-called traditional family setting.
Guilt-ridden, Creeley took me in with the same promise he made to Puck – though in truth, the fire behind his previous desire for boys seemed to have smoldered out, replaced for his increasing desire to learn about Paterson.
Hutchenson – who I later learned used some of Creeley research to benefit himself and his own position as the city’s historian – got Creeley a job as a tour guide for the Great Falls Park, a duty Creeley took as seriously as a soldier might guarding the borders of America. It gave his life structure he had lacked before.
His knowledge of local history made him a perfect fix for one of the states most historical – yet largely neglected – sites. And for a time, people came to the falls to listen to his lectures, though he frequently angered the more official historians over his radical views on history, and his non-Christian habits drew the wrath of local churches, who claimed he practiced witch craft.
He pretty admitted he did, but his definition differed from theirs. He claimed he performance wicca and native American rituals, often claiming it was research when the college administration told him to stop.
The college also told him to cease the use of drugs such as cannabis and peyote, which he maintained was essential for performing his rituals.
These so-called flaws made him seem all the more admirable in my eyes, defying society just as my uncle, Charlie had done – if only in a totally opposite way.
We also worked well together, co-existing in his Main Street loft without friction.
I took up odd jobs, attended college part time, and eventually learned how to play guitar, getting the idea that I might some how make a living as a song writer.
Each of us plodding along in our own world for years and might have continued that way if the outside world had allowed us to.
The election of Ronald Reagan as president in 1980 ruined his world by drying up SETA funds, through which Creeley’s meager salary was paid.
My world fell apart when I fell in love.