Filed under: Art Gallery | Tags: industry, letters, polaroid, rust belt, softtone film
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Today Jeff and I drove past the nuclear plant near Industry on our way to a flea market. I never realized how far your commute was from our apartment in Moon to the steel plant in Midland. You told us stories about river rats, swing shifts and trading adventurous food with the guys at work, late night meals of squirrel or bear or venison. Remember when you took us to Niagara Falls and introduced us to chow mein? A group of monks sat in the middle of the dark restaurant silently eating. Paper lanterns shifted lazily over our heads while we speared dumplings with our chopsticks. I was amazed eating in such an exotic place in a different country. I didn’t think about it until now, but isn’t it strange so many Pittsburghers traveled on holiday from one industrial city to another. It’s like we did this so we’d never have to leave the comforts of home.
[from A Conversation project]
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Beautifully done. Love the description of your father’s fellow workers sharing their food. Many thanks, M
Comment by Michael Williamson April 11, 2012 @ 12:38 PMthanks, michael.
Comment by Lisa April 11, 2012 @ 1:51 PMwow. this moved me in so many ways. it took me to my own parents, my own past.
Comment by motherblue212 April 11, 2012 @ 7:50 AMthank you, that means a lot to me! this one may have been the hardest one to write since i no longer see my father.
Comment by Lisa April 11, 2012 @ 10:06 AMsince mine had passed years ago and we no longer spoke for years before that, i can completely relate.
Comment by motherblue212 April 11, 2012 @ 11:15 AMi know you can. i think often of you when i think about my relationship with my father (or lack of). you’re one of the few people i know with a similar experience.
Comment by Lisa April 11, 2012 @ 1:51 PM