I try to spend as much time as I can carefully observing and recording all the seemingly uneventful stops on my journey through life. But on the wall near my computer, the picture stares at me every day, keeping the memory alive. ![]() The building is still there, but it has been “prettied up” for the new restaurant that occupies the space. I live in Massachusetts now, and I seldom travel on that road. On a cold, gloomy New England day, at exactly 6:45 a.m., Gloria’s Place was added to my ever-growing list of unexpected discoveries. Fortunately I had my camera on the front seat, and I captured the scene just as I saw it. So I made a quick turn, stopped, got out of my car, and watched the endless parade of boxcars and tankers.Īnd then I saw it - Gloria’s Place - and I just melted. A half-mile later, I looked to my left down tiny Maple Street, and there it was, just a few hundred feet away. As I crossed the town line into Hinsdale, Mass., I heard a train rumbling in the distance. and drove north on rural Route 8, which wanders through the hill towns of the Berkshires. ![]() In 1996, a few days after Christmas, I was driving from my home in Torrington, Connecticut, to North Adams, Massachusetts, a city about which I was writing a book. There is no cure for curiosity.” -Dorothy Parker A collection of articles, stories, photographs, the Lewis Hine Project, and much moreĬlick here to go directly to Lewis Hine Project Gloria’s Place, Hinsdale, Mass, 1996
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