Columnists :: South End Character
My exclusive interview with the President
By 10 a.m. the line waiting to get into the Cathedral was so long it wrapped around the park at Franklin Square...
Back in the early Seventies, when the police weren’t as vigilant in the South End as they are today, we needed our own protection. By that, I don’t mean a gun or a knife, or even an alarm system. We had something better: an old man who watched the house.
X means ten. Ten artists who lived in lofts on Thayer Street long ago. Before SoWa. Ten artists whose first group show was at the Cyclorama in 1981. Ten artists who, as you read this, are X Now at HallSpace in Dorchester.
MLK on Northampton Street
Martin Luther King, Jr. recently ran me ragged.
An Old Leftie
There used to be a lot of Old Lefties in the South End, and most were young.
In Cuba, Part II
We stayed at tourist hotels, ate in tourist restaurants, and went around in a huge tourist bus.
Old South Ender in Old Havana
The day after I came back from Cuba, I was waiting for the bus on Mass. Ave. with a homeless man wearing a battered cap and jacket, his pants falling down, shouting out for no apparent reason. I thought: I didn’t see anyone like this in Cuba.
Titus Sparrow: The Man
It started with a simple question: who was the man the park was named after? Google "Titus Sparrow" and you find lots on the park and almost nothing on Titus Sparrow the man.
Gelett Burgess, Native Son
Gelett Burgess had a way with words. Take agowilt, for example. Haven’t we all experienced that "sickening terror, sudden unnecessary fear" that comes the "minute after you throw the burnt match into the waste-paper basket"?
All my friends got them for Christmas in 1968: "automatic" spaghetti forks with cranks that turned the tines or little "finger lights" for 9¢ apiece, which turned out to be useless because they had no batteries.