Not long ago, I met Mary Bowman of Massillon. Back in the middle of the 1800s, she and her sister, Rachel, the granddaughters of slaves, were the first two blacks to graduate from Washington High School.
“Joy to the world!…” As an avid viewer of annual holiday light displays, I hold out a hope that high-tech exhibitions setting their lights to the melodies of popular carols will make heavy use of that well-known Christmas hymn.
Autumn offers a pleasing contradiction. The dying leaves of the season provide such lively color. Stands of trees of Stark County are canvases for strong reds, vivid yellows, bold browns and breathtaking oranges—all on a unifying background of fading green.
Imagine the wind is blowing through your hair. The spring sun warms your face. The sounds of your surroundings envelope you. You’re gliding—almost flying—in a setting that is either exciting in its urbaneness or peacefully pastoral. You are riding a bike. And, when winter turns to spring, it somehow seems that it would be difficult to find a more enjoyable way of passing your time.
Come walk with me in the neighborhood. This will be a walk along an indoor street, a thoroughfare through time that seems quite realistically like a neighborhood of the past. At some point of the winter during a visit to the McKinley Presidential Library & Museum, I plan to scale the stairs to the second floor and step off through the museum’s Street of Shops. You can come along.