An irreplaceable treasure and a glimpse at what neighborhood living once was, Cambridge Street links Harvard to a simpler time. It is a story of human existence, and it is a chronicle of change.
Although the street names, buildings and people transcend any one point in time, the area is showing subtle and at times more overt signs of metamorphosis. Like Ebbets Field and soon Fenway Park before it, aspects of the community seem inexorably destined to be lost.
But they are never forgotten.
The spirit of Cambridge Street lives on in the hearts of its residents and visitors. It is here that strangers still feel comfortable discussing local politics over lunch. Here passers-by still offer a howdy and handshake. The people care about each other, and they all share one experience in common: a street.
And it's called home.
Jumping off Point
The journey down Cambridge Street begins at the Science Center. Skies look remarkable blue for such an early spring day in the city, and none of the languidly lounging undergraduates seem too interested in studying.
All hell breaks loose when Cambridge Fire Department (CFD) Headquarters located at 491 Broadway roars into action. Later in the day, Deputy Chief Gerald R. Reardon says the CFD customarily responds to about 19,000 calls a year or about 50 per day.
Zabrina S. Lau '01, a resident of nearby Canaday Hall, attest to this fact. "I think it's great the fire department is nearby, but I do hear the sirens a lot," Lau says. "I suppose it is unavoidable."
Passing Quincy, Prescott and Felton Streets while walking eastbound, much of the old Cambridge splendor surfaces. Victorian houses protrude to the edge of the street, and torrents of tree pollen and flowers cascade from the Dogwood trees.
Massachusetts Department of Transportation workers are creating congestion in the middle of the street by placing necessary barricades, and a few Charles M. O'Malley, a member of the crew, sayshe gets a lot of shouts and complaints each day. "Yeah, some people--I can't tell you what thehell is the matter with them--but they just thinkthey can go running around a'swearing at us. Wheredo they get the right?" O'Malley asks. Pressing the question further, O'Malley adds,"You know, I hate to be judgmental, but the peoplethat are the worst are not the old folks or theteenagers--although they usually can't drive wortha damn, and a teenager almost near killed meonce--but the most difficult people are the newyuppies," O'Malley says. "It sounds terrible I know, but they have norespect for our decency sometimes," O'Malleycontinues. "I'm slamming roads together so theycan drive to work twenty minutes away. They shouldbe taking mass transit anyhow." A few blocks away from the road crew, tuckedbetween Cambridge Rindge and Latin School andHarvard Vanguard Health Care, sits SkenderianApothecary, a family-owned business since 1962. Founded by George Skenderian, it has employedseveral pharmacists over the years, says George'sgrandson Joseph Skenderian, himself a registeredpharmacist. "What makes us different than the nationalchains like Walgreen's and others is we have avery loyal base of customers," Skenderian says. "Certainly the national chains have their ownmarket niches, but we have been doing businesswith many of the same families for a long periodof time," Skenderian says. "After a while youlearn about their lives. A little bit of theirhopes and dreams. I really like the work I do." When asked how has the community has changed inthe last ten years, Skenderian recalls severalarea businesses that no longer exist. "Whenever I made the trip to Harvard Square,[my brother and I] always stopped at theWursthaus," Skenderian says. "We would get a goodsauerkraut and sausage and enjoy a great meal." "Now, I understand along with The Tasty andother restaurants--and this is not just a HarvardSquare phenomenon, don't get me wrong--but Iunderstand many restaurants have closed or areclosing," Skenderian says. "It's kind of sad really. I think it owes a lotto the loss of rent control," Skenderian saysreferring to the 1994 repeal of rent control inthe Cambridge which has resulted in much higherproperty values and rents for many residents. A little further eastbound, at 1575 CambridgeSt. is Youville Lifecare, a hospital,rehabilitation center and soon-to-beassisted-living community. Although the hospital serves all segments ofthe community, the majority of the patients areseniors. Seated outside is an elderly woman namedMillicent, a former dime-store shopkeeper. "Cambridge used to be a wonderful place,"Millicent says. "When I was growing up--this wasback in the 1940s--most people either worked inEast Cambridge or they worked at the harbor inBoston." "Nowadays, the people who work in Cambridgeusually do not live here. I think it leads to aloss of attachment," Millicent continues. "I still think Cambridge is greatly diverse,and that is really special," Millicent adds. "Ijust worry that the pride and the character of thecommunity are going by the wayside." Off the Beaten Path Walking past Coady Galgay Florist, "The UnknownArea" of Inman Square gradually appears. Lookinglike it is caught in a time warp, half of InmanSquare has buildings dating from the 1800s andearly 1900s, but new development springing up allover the place also makes the area look extremelymodern. Mike Rappucci, owner of Inman Pharmacy, Inc.,says he has noticed a few changes during his yearsin Inman Square. "A lot of the people who grew up here stay,"Rappucci says. "The only real changes are in thebuildings--Bank-Boston bought out the bank on thecorner--but aside from stuff like that, it isremarkably the same." "I think it has a lot to do with the locationof Inman Square," Rappucci says. "It is a home,not a destination. It isn't Kendall Square orHarvard Square; it is home for a lot ofhard-working people." Joseph Burke, delivery person and employee ofInman Pharmacy, talks about his 52 years of livingalong Cambridge Street. "I could tell you about the change fromstreetcars and trolleys to busses and cars, but alot of the city stays the same," Burke says. Burke adds, "Twenty years ago, though, youcould stand at Lechmere and look west to see theclock tower atop [Harvard's] Memorial Hall." Burke says the clock had four faces and fourclocks so that the time was visible from virtuallyany point in Cambridge. "I remember I used to take my son to seeSanders Theatre, too, because...outside thetheatre I remember there was a sculpture of EdmundBurke," Burke says. "My son's last name isBurke...so when he would see that, I would tellhim our family was famous," Burke says, grinningwith his sparkling eyes. After speaking with the gentlemen from theInman Pharmacy, the next stop is the House ofSarah bookstore, located at 1309 Cambridge St. William M. Barbour, co-owner of the bookstoreand longtime resident of Cambridge, says InmanSquare has remained a community while manyneighborhoods around it have disintegrated. "Inman may be the last of the trueneighborhoods," Barbour says. "Away from all thesubway lines and attached to only one bus line,Inman is forced to be its own little community." A Genteel Passerby The trip through Inman Square would not becomplete without talking to Ernest J. Taylor,World War II veteran, and longtime Cambridgeresident. Dressed in his khaki army fatigue shirt, greenpants and army beret, Taylor bears the look of anelder statesman. His face is wizened and furrowed,but a sparkle of happiness shines from his eyes.Taylor says today is a good day for him. "I live the life of a genteel passerby, youmight say," Taylor says. "You know what I really like to see?" Taylorasks. "I like seeing elderly couples together,maybe holding hands. I like to see college kidsfrom Harvard or MIT...They make the square morelively, and seeing them happy together gives me alot of good memories to think about." Taylor says about ten years ago he retired fromhis position as a touch-up artist with RuscraftCards. "I never went to art school--never reallyhad any interest--but I loved my job," Taylorsays. "Continuing my lifelong love of books, Istarted reading about UFOs and other paranormalactivity," Taylor says. "Before I knew it, I wasthe corresponding secretary for a UFO society." "You never really know what good things aregoing to happen in life." The Old Dividing Line Past Inman Square and past Prospect Street, theproliferation of Portuguese restaurants andmarkets is stunning. One section of Cambridge St.is all fish and poultry markets. At the Fernandez Fish Market, a crumblingshanty with peeling white paint, some of thefreshest smelling fish is sold at reasonableprices. When asked how he can afford to sell hisseafood so cheaply, owner Victor Ramos gives ahuge toothpaste grin and smiles, "I have veryefficient fishermen." Next door, La Casa Olmos is frying upgood-smelling fish sandwiches to a lunchtime crowdof three construction workers, a Cambridge cityworker and two older families. Judy Ferrara-Sancho, mother of two, is havinglunch with her two school-age daughters, Lucy andIsabel. "My children absolutely love to eat here,"Ferrara-Sancho says. "I am not sure why, but it'scheap and it's home." Isabel then pipes up, "Mom's the best mommy inthe world." Across the restaurant Douglas H. Ordman andVincent Sweeny are discussing the upcomingDemocratic prospects for the Eighth CongressionalDistrict. Deciding whether neighborhood concernsor welfare should be the most important issue,Ordman and Sweeny manage to drink six Molson'sGolden beers between themselves. Finishing lunch, the next stop is RooseveltTowers, one of the few rent-controlled housingdevelopments left in the city. Swaggering outsidein a blue and black Georgetown Bulldogs Starterjacket is R. Jefferson Williams, 19, aself-described Gangster Disciples (GD) member. Williams says he is simply getting a look atthe territory. "I don't like to hurt anybody...I just like tointimidate [them]," Williams says. "Sometimespeople show no respect. Around here, they berespecting me." "I love Cambridge. It's my home," Williamscontinues. "I just think I need to do something toensure that I get a fair chance at things. GD ismy way of doing that." "I never hurt anyone who's just walkin'through," Williams says. "That's real bad, man." The Other Side of the Tracks Continuing down Cambridge Street requirescrossing an old railroad track. Literally a wallof division that once separated the Irish,Portuguese, and Italians from each other at theturn of the century, the tracks have lost some oftheir practical value, although symbolically theystill demarcate a boundary within the city. First stop is the Mayflower Poultry Company,where the sign outside advertises, "Live Poultry.Freshly Killed." When the store's manager won'tanswer any questions, customer Naima A. Singletonpipes up saying that a few years ago, the storeused to hang chickens in the display window. Singleton says the practice has since stopped,but the quality of the food is still superior toany in a Star Market deli. As the afternoon sun begins to sink slowly intothe western sky, Charles A. Watson yells out, "Areyou looking for something?" The man outside theCambridge Street Laundromat, located at 315Cambridge St., sits with cane in hand andTam-O-Shanter on his head. From a distance healmost resembles an Irish leprechaun. "It's hard to walk with only one leg, but Ilove getting out to see the city," Watson says."Besides, I have to watch the Laundromat." Watson, a longtime Cambridge resident, speaksabout how the city has changed. "Cambridge..[has]lost a sense of purpose. It used to be the mostwonderful community back in the [19]40s and[19]50s." "I still think it's remarkable, but there'ssomething missing in the soul of the people,"Watson says. "Somehow people just don't careanymore." "Maybe it takes an older guy to see it," Watsonsays. "I just don't want to let the spirit ofCambridge die." "Because once the spirit is gone, there's nogetting it back. And it wouldn't be right foreveryone coming after us to do a terrible thinglike that."
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ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF SHOPPING IN CAMBRIDGE
