The Streets of Baltimore
October 24, 2012
I have never met Thaddeus Logan, but I can share a moment in time with Thaddeus several years ago.
There’s a great restaurant, highly recommended for its blue crab, in Baltimore. To get there you had to leave your swank hotel and drive through the slums on the east side of Baltimore. What I saw from my vantage point in a Yellow Cab made me lose my appetite for crab and left me empty at the same time.
I will never forget the sight of a man, who may now own a piece of my soul, sitting on the steps in the projects in Baltimore. I have often wondered, is my soul his for the taking?
Do either of us have a choice to create a better life? If there is hope, the choices should be available for us both, but should either be necessarily more gratifying?
The experience prompted me to write this:The Streets of Baltimore Our eyes met in a moment. One, sitting on the steps to nowhere. Where hallways echo empty promises. Where memories too often perish, Where misery too often survives. Ever so brief, our souls meet On the streets of Baltimore. One, just another fare, All we shared was a glance. A moment, no more. One asks resolute. Is it not too late? Can you snub out your smoke? Can you swallow that last drink? On the streets of Baltimore One both born rich in life, Both born poor to circumstance. Both bodies whole, Both born spirits unscathed, Both born undiscovered, Only one is born, On the streets of Baltimore. One white, one black. One who can’t look back, One can only look away. One lives on, in stark reality, One lives on, with memories. One lives filled with hope. One lives on the streets of Baltimore.
Alan J Wiessner
Updated Tuesday, October 23, 2012
I’m not going to get a copy of Hey Cabbie or Hey Cabbie II. Thaddeus Logan’s driven along those very same streets 1,000 fold and he too, understands, one can not look back. I have a feeling he is a good man and he has written a couple of good books that need to be read and taken to heart.
Serendipity is alive and well on the streets of Baltimore, but I’m going to stick to the romance of sadness or even the empathy I experienced, while visiting, so as for reading his books, I’m just not going there.