A Memory of New York
No one ever forgets their first trip to New York City, me included. It was the spring of 1932 and I was still recovering from my rebellious phase. We were living in Rochester, which was mostly countryside at that point. I was bored. Esme and Carlisle were trying their best to keep me occupied and under control, but I craved something else - something fast and dangerous.
We had just gotten a new car, one of the first ever owned by our family. It was a beautiful luxury car, a Tetra T80 in a deep blue color. I was in love with that car. I took it to New York City the second weekend in April, driving fast, the engine straining near its top speed of 85 mph.
It was an overcast weekend, and I hoped it would stay that way. I booked a room at the opulent Waldorf Astoria Hotel, which had just opened the previous fall. I arrived at night, later than I had intended, the roads between Rochester and New York City were primitive at best. But even that late, the city itself was alive and bustling. There were hundreds of people walking through Times Square, and more cars than I'd ever seen. It was overwhelming to all the senses. The smells were the most memorable, pungent in the air; garbage was piled in heaps along the edges of the sidewalks and the people themselves had a different air about them, as if they'd been confined in this city for too long.
I spent a few days touring the city, from its seedy underbelly and dark alleys to its gleaming parks and the beauty herself, the Statue of Liberty. It was metropolitan and sophisticated, truly the height of humanity in this lifetime. But the city held no sense of home for me, and I had many homes at this point. It was a beautiful void, a painted box with nothing inside. I was content to admire its beauty and return to Rochester, to Esme and Carlisle.
I have gone back to New York City a few more times over the years, and its charm is the same. Excitement lurks just around the corner, it's fast and dirty and modern and cultured. But a few days sends me home, wherever that may be, with a new respect for the quiet dignity of my family's life.
Learn more about me and my family at www(dot)cullensonline(dot)com