The Decker Brothers - Part 9

Setting aside my pessimism and, at my husband's urging, we proceed down H. Decker Rd in search of a clue.  As we pass a house on the right side of the road, I say to Bob, " Gee, that house might have been the place where the terrible brawl took place, but it appears to be in much better shape than I remember."  We proceed further down the road and then Bob notices the NY-Pennsylvania border on the GPS map and since we really had no set agenda, he tells me that he thought it would be cool to get to the border.  So we keep going a little further into the woods and the road gets smaller and smaller and just as the border line becomes visible on our car's GPS, the road pretty much ends in rocks and dirt and we really can’t move forward.  Here in the woodlands we don't see any signs announcing the State line anyway so we back up to a spot where we can safely turn around without ending up in a ditch and we proceed back down H. Decker Rd.  As we pass the Guestwood Ho campgrounds, we notice a young woman walking in the vicinity of the  the house that may or may not have belonged to the Decker Family back in 1961, and we stop to ask from the car window ( as we didn't want to frighten her ) , "Do you happen to know if there are any Deckers still living on this road? "  I summarize my teenage romance in a sentence or two and then I wonder if she thinks I am a little nuts.  Although she seems mildly amused by the ramblings of this strange old lady, I quickly size up the fact that she is way too young to know anything about what might have happened in that ancient time (1961) and I mention the fact that this all happened way before her time on this earth.  She is a lovely young woman who appears anxious to help me, and she is familiar with the "Decker" name.  So, before we drive off, she mentions that her Aunt enjoys dabbling in local history, she is bit closer to my age, and she possibly might have some information to share with me.  She tells us her Aunt lives close by and points us in the right direction.  As we pull away, I have no intention of stopping at a total stranger's house to ask my silly questions about three teenagers Sharon, Dorothy and I met all those many years ago.