A drive into the past

This morning I took my husband to the hospital for his surgery. Well, actually he drove, as I do not like city driving at all. I knew that I would have to drive home as he will be kept overnight. On the way into Baltimore, we came into town via I-83, a road I had not traveled in a long time. Suddenly up on the right, just off the freeway, was an old familiar sight. First was the Howard Street Bridge, with the bow-like arches of its truss structure rising above the road it carries. Then, just behind it was the industrial looking façade of the Fox Building. And then, not far from there was the modern building constructed by my college long after I had graduated. Suddenly I was taken back to my days at the Maryland Institute College of Art in the late 80s. I spent many a class in the Fox Building, looking out over Howard Street and the bridge. If the weather was nice and the windows were open (at that time this old factory building was not air conditioned) there was no way any professor could be heard above the din of a train passing below Howard Street. Any classroom on that side of the building suffered this effect, and it was of course worse the closer to street level you were. All that could be done was to wait until the train passed. That brought back a whole lot of memories of classes, professors and of course other students with whom I knew and some I hung out with outside of class.

Luckily the hospital was not too difficult to get to, and we were able to avoid looping blocks looking for a parking garage – or struggling to find and enter the hospital’s garage. I will be passing by these same memories again tomorrow on the way to pick up my husband when he is discharged. The bridge, the buildings and the trains that passed thru parts of the campus were just parts of the daily background scenery for those four years. Then there was the surrounding area where the Myerhoff Symphony Hall and the Lyric Theater were within walking distance.  On the other side of campus was what we called the “clock tower building”, which was actually an old 19th century train station.  Its official name was the Mount Royal Station and its upper floors housed the school’s expansive library.  I spent a good deal of time in that building as well, always finding some neat old books to check out. And if you had the time and didn’t mind a good walk, you could head down Charles Street and eventually you’d be at the Inner Harbor. And while I don’t like driving in such heavily urbanized areas, I got used to going to school in that part of town once I figured out where everything was. Obviously there was no GPS back then, and I always kept a paper map book of the city in my car. It was this paper map that led me astray that fateful day I decided to pay a visit to the eastern side of town after class. That was the day when I surmised I could just follow the Beltway down and around to reach my destination. All I’d need to do was to take that road across the river and I’d be where I wanted to be, but little did I know that this simple crossing was in fact the notorious Francis Scott Key Bridge. But otherwise, the map served its purpose, and I was able to avoid getting lost. Sometimes I availed myself of public transportation, and I would ride the subway in from where the line began out in Owings Mills. I took the subway if I wasn’t going to have a late class, if I didn’t have a whole lot of things to lug back and forth, and if the weather wasn’t too bad. If all those conditions were met, I didn’t mind the four block walk from the State Center station to whatever building on campus I had class in that day. But once in a while, we would start a project in class and I’d end up huffing a large painting or sculpture onto the subway train, trying not to bump into people. Carrying photography supplies and books wasn’t too bad, though. Also within those memories are the times when I was working in the photo lab in the basement of the main building. Sometimes I’d be there late into the evening developing film and making prints, hard at work on various projects. Just like that paper map I carried in my car, this facet of my past has vanished for the most part. Fortunately not all of what I learned has been consigned to the technological dust bin, as composition, layout, exposure and other photography skills I still find useful in my current job. Hopefully this Sunday I will put those skills to use as I traverse the Chesapeake Bay Bridge.

The picture I set for this entry is a pastel still life drawing I did in one of those classes that was held in the Fox Building. But I can’t remember whether that particular classroom was on side with the bridge and the trains.