That gave me a flashback to something I hadn't thought about in decades. Through 1977, the U.S. Tennis Open was played in Forest Hills, Queens. I knew someone who was adamant it was played in Forest Hills, the Pittsburgh suburb. They were shocked when they were finally convinced the tournament was played in a different Forest Hills, and that another Forest Hills even existed.
One more. Once I had a trip into the burgh. Hopped into an airport cab and had a nice chat with a very affable driver. Got to the topic of how we liked to read, and it went something like this:
me: what kind of books do you like to read?
Him: oh, mostly history and biography.
Me: me too. Any favorites?
Him: oh I like anything by David mccullough. (Pause). He’s from Pittsburgh ya know.
me: no I didn’t know that.
him: yeah, he wrote that Lewis and Clark book. (Editors note: I hope he was thinking of brave companions rather than undaunted courage, but if not, it makes the story even better)
Me: really an amazing journey. I’d not appreciated just how much they’d gone into the unknown.
him: you know they started right down here on the waterfront. I can take ya down there if ya want.