In the park  itself was a paved circle (shaped like a Frisbee) that was also, ironically enough, ideal for having a group Frisbee game, hence its name. The circle was also ringed by a number of convenient viewing benches.

Frisbee Park became the center of summer nocturnal outdoors “activity” in PA, at least for the hippies anyway, especially since the town had closed off Smith Street after 9pm and turned the downtown strip into a nightly ghost town. I don’t remember a curfew at the park, but of course the cops were always snooping around, given the colorful crowd that gathered there each night. That waterfront spot is the Point of Perth Amboy, and it soon became headquarters for the local post Woodstock tribes.  And like the native Ambos   centuries before us,  we used the area as a ceremonial gathering  ground for our own forms of tribal rituals.

The nice thing about Frisbee Park was that it had easy access to the other parts of the waterfront, away from the prying eyes of the cops. One could drive a short ways up Water Street and park at the traditional Amboy “lovers lane” overlooking the bay near the yacht club and do what comes naturally. You might also walk west and find a nice secluded park bench to indulge in whatever.

 Although you always had to watch out for that mysterious older fat guy who always seem to be hanging around a bit too closely and popping up out of nowhere. We never really figured out who he was but we naturally pegged him to be a narc or some thing. We made snide remarks each time he walked by, and after a few weeks he disappeared. He was way too obvious.

Another one you had to watch out for was officer Kenny Huber. He could be friendly one night and then bust somebody the next. Although he seemed to leave the simple pot smokers alone for the most part, concentrating mostly on the goofballers and smackies, like the infamous Kenny B and Worm. He would actually hang with us, but he was an aggressive cop so no one felt that you could ever really quite trust him.

Even though it was the early 70‘s, the spirit of the 60’s was still in full bloom and Frisbee Park had a brief but colorful existence for one memorable summer. The next year, for some reason, the action moved up to Bayview Park, overlooking the boat basin. However this would be the last summer many of us would ever spend in PA as life or school beckoned us elsewhere. The writing was on the wall and this would be the last generation of European ancestries this old town would ever see.

Frisbee Park: A place in time, never to be revisited. The space is still there but the circle is gone.   Forever.

by The Purple Duster