Thomas Wolfe wrote a novel called You Can’t Go Home Again and famously said “You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood, back home to romantic love, back home to a young man’s dreams of glory and of fame”. The full quote is a little longer, but this is the part that matters the most to me.

Last week I went home to where I spent much of my youth and grew up … Buffalo, New York. My parents and I moved there when I was five, bringing my mother back home where she grew up and lived until she took a train out of town to join the Coast Guard and serve her nation during World War II. I lived there until I left for graduate school and then I was gone, only to return with my wife to visit family and friends, then cemeteries.

To say I have fond memories of my youth and where I lived is an understatement.

I hadn’t been back home for a meaningful visit in over five years, not since we had the graveside memorial for my wife’s father. Then a few things came up and Covid happened. I had gone to my thirtieth and fortieth high school reunions but missed the forty fifth because it took place on the same day as my granddaughter’s birthday. Who does reunions in September!  So about a year ago I contacted the person who puts these things together and suggested the fiftieth be held during summer.  Six months or so ago I received an email saying it would be in August! Immediately I talked to my wife and called my daughter. The weekend of August 12^th was now on the calendar. Don’t schedule anything that involves me then because I won’t be around.  Thankfully they agreed and remembered!

The reunion was set for Saturday evening. Perfect!  I drove up on Thursday, met a business colleague from Canada for a couple of hours that afternoon, then spent most of the rest of my free time making photographs until leaving on Sunday. The rest of the visit was spent with friends eating more pizza, ice cream, curly q fries, donuts and other assorted junk food than anyone should during a concentrated period of time.

I had decided it would be fun to do a personal photographic project to coincide with the fiftieth anniversary of my graduation, so before leaving Doylestown I compiled a list of places I would like to make pictures of. It wasn’t an exhaustive list; I knew from previous visits that some of my old hangouts were long gone, but I was hoping that there would still be a number of places left that had real meaning to me.

One great thing about Buffalo is wherever you want to go is not a long of a drive from where you are, and while I tried to do things logically, I still crisscrossed the city a few times.  But damn, I had a lot of fun going through all that gas!  As with the personal project I did during Covid, I wasn’t necessarily looking to make artistic statements. Rather, I was seeking out images that were purely important to me.  Most of the things on my list were still there in some fashion, but others like the department stored I worked as a teenager and the dock I rode my bike to go fishing on Saturday afternoons were gone. The department store on Hertel Avenue had been replaced by a large brown multi-occupant building and where the old dock on Niagara River once stood now a marina, a park or apartments were there. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact location so don’t know which one for sure. Nevertheless, it hurt. I went back two days in a row hoping to somehow find the spot, but struck out both times.

In the end it didn’t really matter as I saw … and remembered so much! The two houses I lived in, my elementary school and high school, the cemetery my parents are buried in, my favorite bowling alley, the old North Park movie theater, the zoo, Bocce Pizza, home of the best pizza in the world, Louie’s Foot Long Hotdogs, for the best curly Q french fries, and the camera store where I bought my first serious camera, an Argus C3. These were a few of the places I stopped to make a picture and on occasion have a nice chat. All told, I made six rolls worth of pictures with my Plaubel Makina 670.

When I walked inside Camera Mart to take a look around, the young man behind the counter got very excited. He had read about Plaubels, but had never seen one in the flesh, let alone had one right in front of him. We talked for awhile about film photography and the cameras he used. Finally, I had to let him hold it, look through the viewfinder and push the shutter release. I think it made is his day and it made me feel good.

Buffalo was home, where my family was, long passed but still there. My childhood was gone but my childhood friends were still there. My romantic love is still with me, fifty two years later, every time I look at my wife or think about her when I’m gone.  My young man dreams have been fulfilled … I’ve had a great and meaningful life!

I can’t wait to develop my film and look at the proof sheets!

Oh, and by the way, the reunion was a blast!

You can go home again. I did!

Stay well,

Michael