jxmartin

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I have 701 stories published in one collection on the site.
My stories have been read 599624 times and 141 of my stories have been cherry picked.
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Joseph Xavier Martin

My stories

The Bank

THE BANK It is a single-story, solid little building that sits on the Northwest corner of Seneca Street and Seneca Parkside, on the South side of Buffalo, New York. In the early part of this century, it was occupied by the "German American Bank." The ensuing World Wars made the ethnicity of the name unpopular and it was changed, for business reasons, to the "Liberty National Bank." That is how I remember it through most of my childhood, growing up in South Buffalo. The Bank kept that name, until after several mergers and acquisitions in the 1980's, it became what it is today, part of the Fleet Banking system.

Forester

The Forester I can picture "Woody" even now, sitting behind that small oak desk, in a pine paneled office at the Forestry Preserve in Sardinia, N.Y. Edward Woods is a thoughtful man, whose knowledge of woodland lore had made him a figure of some respect in the rural hinterlands surrounding the metropolitan area of Buffalo, N.Y. Ed was also the local Justice of the Peace. It made for a formidable presence in the area.

Pheasant House

The Pheasant House In the late 1960's,while attending college at S.U.N.Y Geneseo, I worked a few summers as seasonal help in Erie County's Chestnut Ridge Park. It is a thousand acre sprawling expanse of park and woodland some 12 miles South of Buffalo,N.Y.. The most prominent feature of the park is a large hill, atop which sits an attractive stone-flagged casino that is a mirror image of a baronial manor in the Black Forest of Bavaria, in Germany. The enormous toboggan runs and sled hill here have been a source of Winter fun to hundreds of thousands of Western New Yorkers since the park's creation in the 1930's.

Christmas Comes To Kevin Leary

Christmas Comes To Kevin Leary Kevin Leary was a bum. He wasn't a homeless person, nor an individual set adrift by physical or mental difficulties, he was just a plain and ordinary bum. He didn't work and he didn't want to. He was a small time pool hustler and an errand boy for a number of local gangsters. He did whatever they needed and he didn't care who got hurt in the process.

Windy City

THE WINDY CITY As we walked along the banks of Cazenovia Creek, the wind howled around us like a Banshee's wail. The water here is swift moving and clear. The vee, of tiny ripples, disturbed the surface only when flowing around the odd rock or obstruction in the stream bed. The leaves onshore whirled around us in miniature cyclonic eddies, like a special effect from the movies. It is Fall in Western New York. I pulled my coat tighter around me and leaned into the gale. It gets like this in Buffalo sometimes.

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