Back in the US of A

I had last made a trip to the States in late 2021, just as covid restrictions were petering out, and at the time, I pretty much stayed in Cambridge. This time, traveling with my younger sister Cathy, who lives nearby in France, my visit was a full-on nostalgia playbook: revisiting the Brooklyn street where I had shared a one-room apartment with my ex-husband, wandering around Manhattan and Cambridge, where I had spent my younger years, and finally, a trip to Jamestown Rhode Island, where I had spent all my summers as a kid.

In Cambridge, I stayed with my generous and dear nephew Nicolas, his wife Ellen, and their two teen-aged sons. It was comforting to spend time with this active family, and get to know the boys. I feel a great affinity with the older son, Adrien, who is an avid birder, as well as the younger one, Davin, who shows such compassion for animals, and sensitivity to plants and the environment. I loved hanging out, taking a walk along the Alewife Brook, and enjoying great dinners on the porch—Ellen is a terrific cook, and made time to fix special meals for me and my sisters. I should explain that my older sister lives in Cambridge, and it was great to reunite the 3 of us.

I had never visited the Harvard science museum. Had heard of their “Glass flowers” exhibit, but never was interested, as I thought it was purely a decorative collection. In fact, it is a fascinating display of a remarkable craft. In the 19th century teaching botany was facilitated with over 4,000 exquisite glass models of plants, and their reproductive systems. Leopold and Rudolph Blaschka, a Czech father and son team, worked together to create perfect glass replicas in the service of Harvard’s science department. Even as plants wither, these models continue to provide accurate representations of their live counterparts.

Harvard, its wealth and its students dominate the city of Harvard. And in this time of the country’s turn to the right, it creates a bubble of left-wing sentiment. The Charles river runs between the city and Boston to the south. Walking along the banks is a pleasure. The clematis terniflora decked the riverside shrubs with frothy white flowers, giving everything a bridal aspect. Too bad they are an invasive vine.

Cathy & I took the Amtrak Acela (fancy) train from South Station, Boston (my first job, “Gal Friday”!, was across the street from this) to the renovated Penn Station. New York is nothing like what I experienced in the 1980’s: all gentrified, with well-kept plantings everywhere, and subways graffiti free. My friend Maureen (fellow designer from back when) generously hosted Cathy and me in her lovely Brooklyn apartment. She gave us a tour of the neighborhood, which included beautiful early 20th century mansion on nearby Clinton Avenue.

The next day was devoted to revisiting old haunts. I used to live half a block from the Brooklyn Promenade, where we used to take postprandial walks. The view is so different from back then! Most obvious is the lack of the twin towers. There is a memorial wreathe on the fence which says: “September 11—Broken Sky”. The view down below, where once were just warehouses lining the river now boasts parks and trees, and even a big shed structure for sports. We climbed down to DUMBO (Down Under the Manhattan Bridge, a district that spans both bridges), where we had lunch (falafels for me!) and terrific ice creams before climbing up to traverse the Brooklyn Bridge above.

We subwayed into Manhattan for our last full day in New York. Upper East Side. I had never been to the Neue Gallerie, which is devoted to works of early 20th century German and Austrian art. So we saw Schiele and Klimt, as well as disturbing social-commentary by Otto Dix, George Grosz et al. Particularly disturbing, as the United States is drifting quite rapidly into some of the authoritarian territory of Germany in the 1920’s.

We met up with Sheryl, a fellow survivor of working at Vogue magazine to visit the renovated Frick museum, where we indulged in a lavish lunch.

From the Upper East side, we walked through Central Park and down the west side to 7th avenue to check out one of the amazing notion stores that one can find in the Garment district. We hit rush hour and had to fight the hordes who were aiming for the 34th Street subway station as we moved back uptown towards Grand Central Station. Along the way, we witnessed a transformed Bryant Park (former haunt of drug dealers and homeless folk), which was hosting its bi-weekly yoga class. There must have been 300 people doing the exercises. At Grand Central, we took the shuttle to the C, encountering a couple of ballet students returning from the Upper West side schools, down to Brooklyn again.

We took the less expensive Northeast corridor Amtrak back to Boston, and onward to Cambridge for a very short bit before renting a car from Turo, a more expensive option for those of us who have only debit, not credit cards. We drove down to Jamestown Rhode Island, to visit the place where I and my cousins would summer at my grandmother’s house, “Mist”. It was a short walk to the beach, and that’s where we had spent most of our time. On this visit, I was determined to swim, and was relieved to find that the water was tolerable, and didn’t have the jellyfish that I remembered swimming amongst as a child.

We reunited with my cousins Howard, Joy, and Pat, and their spouses Liani, Chip and Tim. I only wish I had scheduled a longer stay as there was a lot to catch up on. Cathy and I spent the night at Mist with Joy and Chip (the others had since built their own houses nearby). It was very satisfying to sleep in the same room I slept in as a child—there were even still our growth indications on the wall (I have shrunk over an inch since, I saw). We enjoyed a New England dinner of swordfish and super fresh corn (you just can’t get that in France). One of my grandmother’s relatives, from whom she inherited the house, was an Egyptologist, and it was nice to again see the decorations that fascinated me long ago. The next day, Chip took us to enjoy rich and delicious ice cream at Baron’s, in nearby Narragansett.

We drove back to Cambridge, from where I took my night flight back to France. I was so fortunate to have had everything go so smoothly, along with delightful weather. I had been anxious about revisiting so much from my past, but I am grateful to have had the opportunity, especially to have been able to meet up with so many of the friends and family who populated it.