An Encounter With a Familiar Face

Accelerating up the slope of Hawthorne street, I held enough speed to take the corner leading me to Highland; anticipating the momentum I would gain down Highland Street towards Cedar, my adrenaline began to build. Suddenly I was perplexed by the two canoes atop a familiar looking Jeep at the Highland and Fort Ave. intersection- it my attention from the corner of my eye.

One weekday evening, feeling rather hungry, I jumped on my bike to head out for something to eat. It was a incredible Summer evening; one of many that we have been the recipient of this year-- a significant improvement over last Summer. While I though my appetite would be fulfilled with some nourishing culinary choice from a selection of Boston’s great cuisine(not available in Roxbury) it was my appetite for knowledge that would be fulfilled this evening.

Accelerating up the slope of Hawthorne street, I held enough speed to take the corner leading me to Highland; anticipating the momentum I would gain down Highland Street towards Cedar, my adrenaline began to build. Suddenly I was perplexed by the two canoes atop a familiar looking Jeep at the Highland and Fort Ave. intersection- it my attention from the corner of my eye.“Hey Scotland!” I hear a man shout. It was Ernest.

For the next hour and a half, Ernest and I would talk, listen and learn. But Ernest is a wealth of historical knowledge, and I embellished this opportunity to absorb everything he was willing to share.

Ernest has lived in Highland Park a few year longer than myself, some 45 years. He shared many stories including: the evolution of RCC, a college that was suppose to be revolutionary; one that community members fought hard and long for. Asking tough questions and collaborating with institutions like Harvard to determine confounding factors like maintenance issues. Proposals for RCC included special scholarships for residents, commitment to community space and longer range plans to extend into it into Mattapan. Ernest shared how he was hoping to see resident in the community really come together as they had at one point in the past. Most compelling was the story about the rift between residents who wanted the area to have a demographic composition of wealthy African Americans versus a mixed income population. However an ebullient population, encouraging a culturally diverse area, invested serious effort in not only proposing housing for lower income people, but considering what is it that each demographic segment finds appealing, which would help inform what Highland Park might be composed of(in terms of retailers, arts and performances and other entertainment).

All of this sounded somewhat familiar as though history was repeating itself. As I continued to enjoy Ernest’s story telling; which included his experience with the Appalachian Mountain Club during his earlier years; more recently his voyage down the Charles with former youth that were once under his tutelage; I thought to myself, this grand vision of Highland Park is just the type of urban plan the City and residents could really benefit from. It fit right into my vision of what is still possible today. In addition, his mention of my mother and father’s role in some of these events only made the experience richer- I suppose it is part of a legacy they leave for me.

As these stories continue to unfold I find it hard to not consider interviewing my parents- I am sure they have stories that will also enrich my experience.

I left the conversation fully gratified with my savory morsels of knowledge, a dish that was good for my soul and went well beyond my biological nourishment. Perhaps that is the trade off for the lack of exceptional culinary choices in Highland Park. It is an exchange I would happily accept occasionally, but ultimately there is not substitute for a good meal. So I will continue to wait and advocate for what is possible.