a.k.a. V.J.

I tend to think of my hometown of Fulton, N.Y. as being a pretty typical Rust-Belt municipality. There are factories — some still operating, some abandoned. There’s a small downtown area that has never really flourished at any point in my lifetime, as opposed to say 70-100 years ago, when by all accounts it bustled with activity and commerce. We have the major fast-food outlets, some diners, and a Walmart. In my mind, Fulton isn’t all that distinct from any number of other small, blue-collar cities dotting the American landscape.

Of course, that assessment is somewhat unfair. Fulton has a distinct history and a number of unique features. I just tend not to think the things that set Fulton apart because I’m so used to them that they seem ordinary to me. Two features of this town that I would probably find more remarkable if I hadn’t grown up with them always being there are our locks.

Fulton stands like a colossus astride the Oswego River. The river is canalized to make it navigable for boat traffic. The resulting Oswego Canal has seven locks, two of which are in Fulton. The more northern of the two locks is Lock O-3, which is easily accessible and observable from downtown. I drive past Lock O-3 almost every day, but I rarely pay much attention to its elaborate workings. The occasions when I do take note serve as reminders of the impressive feat of engineering that’s on display. Yesterday, I was downtown and noticed some activity at the lock, so I decided to get out of the car and explore around.