Tucked away a discrete distance from busy Delaware Avenue, and a stone’s throw from the famous Wilcox Mansion where Theodore Roosevelt was sworn in as President after the assassination of William McKinley, lies a stately Italian Renaissance-style structure that I suspect few people in Buffalo have ever noticed, let alone visited. It is the home […]
It’s hard to underestimate the impact of the long Buffalo winters on young romance.
People all over western New York are embracing the “spirit of Polonia,” even if for only a day.
The benefits of going to a single-gender high school can’t be proven scientifically, but I can attest to my own experience.
Grandma was happiest surrounded by loved ones on Christmas.
Alas, though Commander Tom was charming and kind to everyone, he never paid any attention to me, even when I won a giant Tootsie Roll.
I spent many childhood days in Buffalo’s city parks. Little did I know then they were designed by America’s first and greatest landscape architect.
When I was growing up on the West Side, little did I know that my crowded, urban neighborhood would one day host the biggest, most beautiful Garden Walk in America.
Is it any wonder that I long to return, this time to my own cottage with a view of my beloved lake?
Like every generation of teenagers, we believed our music was far superior, truly unique, and more profound, than any music that came before it.
I lived through one of our nation’s most devastating tree pandemics–Dutch Elm Disease–and I hope I never witness another.
Like old structures, it is the flaws and imperfections that tell our stories and make us interesting.