Rediscovering Baltimore: Introduction
by Karen Hannon-Greenwald
Born and bred in West Baltimore, I am a self-professed hon. A product of the Baltimore’s Catholic schools, art major, and weekend punk, I hung out all over Baltimore. I remember when Harbor Place first opened. My girlfriends and I would venture downtown by way of the new 395 thruway via Caton Ave, to see and experience the wonders of the Downtown's exciting new Inner Harbor, the place I was forbidden to go before the renaissance because the Baltimore harbor was considered seedy and far too dangerous for decent folks.
During high school, I would sneak out on school nights to the Marble Bar on Franklin Street or Girard’s on Cathedral and see local bands. When I was at “Towson State,” I was a fixture of the artsy, obscure Mount Vernon bar scene, not to mention the hip local eateries, Gampy’s, Bertha’s, Louie’s Bookstore Café. I never missed the ever popular unlimited champagne brunch at The Owl Bar in the Belvedere. Never.
Baltimore indeed had a scene, man. I experienced and enjoyed as much as I could and was excited by what I considered “underground entertainment.” As much as I loved my home city, something and someone drew me away from my beloved crab cakes, Utz potato chips, and three bands for five bucks. My exciting life changed when I got involved with a New York City boy living in Baltimore. My man knew the time was drawing near to make his way back to his roots in the one of the world’s largest cities, and I was on board for even more adventure. The bright lights, horrendous traffic, and (the best) Italian style pizza of the NYC tri-state area was beckoning and I couldn’t resist. My boyfriend and I settled in Stamford, Connecticut, a small but trendy urban bedroom community just one hour north of New York City. Right off I-95, It was the perfect starting point for going anywhere we wanted in the Northeast corridor, at a moment’s notice. We went into the City constantly, but we didn’t operate like tourists. We were locals, and I adopted my future husband’s no-nonsense approach to life in NYC. No Broadway hits for us, damn it! We haunted the Garment District, the 24th Street Annex flea market, and unique little retailers dotting the City. And when I missed home or was needed for family events, I would take the I-95 south road trip always returning back to Connecticut with my Utz potato chips, Berger cookies, Rheb's chocolates, and Mom’s homemade Italian meatballs.
Eight years into my Northeast residence, another personal turn occurred. My marriage dissolved and my career advanced, or so I thought. The Connecticut-based company with whom I was employed, offered me a promotion and new assignment in the Midwest. Not just the Midwest, but Hutchinson, Kansas, the center most point of the United States smack in the middle of the heartland! Based on professional recommendations and a twisted sense of adventure, I figured I would take a chance. What’s the worst that could happen? Nothing! And I mean, absolutely nothing. Nothing was happening in Hutchinson and it was clearly not the place for an East Coast girl. Don’t get me wrong, rural Kansas is clean, quiet, friendly, and pleasant. The people are lovely (when you can find any people!), and the cost of living is less than half of East Coast cities’.
During my exile in middle Kansas, I tried to get home two or three times a year. But like my Baltimore trips from Connecticut, my time was always limited and the places I frequented were those I already knew and not always in the city. Closer to home, I would wind up Ellicott City, or Columbia. On the occasional Saturday night, friends and I would venture down to Cross Street Market in Federal Hill. The bottom line to these periodic visits was that I was home to see my family and not so much to re-discover the city. And to be honest, I avoided Baltimore’s latest and greatest, because I didn’t want to add any fuel to an already smoldering desire to get back home.
The Heartland, like any where in the U.S., does make an effort to be culturally progressive, but it just wasn’t enough to keep my attention for any more than two years. That smoldering desire grew into a burning urge to move back home to Baltimore. So after two years and five months in Kansas, I had saved enough money to quit my job and move back to Irvington. Best decision I ever made in my life! What lay ahead was an entirely new Baltimore, a world of entertainment, food, culture, and friends, whose close knit social network is now my “friend support system” otherwise known as “The Four Karens.” More on them later… It’s been a six month whirlwind romance with my beloved city, and I want to continue it for a long time. I’ll take you on my discoveries to some new places, some familiar places, and some places that would still be considered works in progress.
In the first installment of my five part series on rediscovering my once and current city, I’ll take a closer look at East Baltimore, an area that had been alien to me, a West Baltimorean who never even thought about it let alone visit. I’ll share with you the cool things I’m discovering from the Creative Alliance in Highlandtown to the diverse restaurants in Harbor East. So please keep your eyes on this space and join me on the rediscovery and love affair with a city that has more charm than anywhere else: Balmer!
Born and bred in West Baltimore, I am a self-professed hon. A product of the Baltimore’s Catholic schools, art major, and weekend punk, I hung out all over Baltimore. I remember when Harbor Place first opened. My girlfriends and I would venture downtown by way of the new 395 thruway via Caton Ave, to see and experience the wonders of the Downtown's exciting new Inner Harbor, the place I was forbidden to go before the renaissance because the Baltimore harbor was considered seedy and far too dangerous for decent folks.
During high school, I would sneak out on school nights to the Marble Bar on Franklin Street or Girard’s on Cathedral and see local bands. When I was at “Towson State,” I was a fixture of the artsy, obscure Mount Vernon bar scene, not to mention the hip local eateries, Gampy’s, Bertha’s, Louie’s Bookstore Café. I never missed the ever popular unlimited champagne brunch at The Owl Bar in the Belvedere. Never.
Baltimore indeed had a scene, man. I experienced and enjoyed as much as I could and was excited by what I considered “underground entertainment.” As much as I loved my home city, something and someone drew me away from my beloved crab cakes, Utz potato chips, and three bands for five bucks. My exciting life changed when I got involved with a New York City boy living in Baltimore. My man knew the time was drawing near to make his way back to his roots in the one of the world’s largest cities, and I was on board for even more adventure. The bright lights, horrendous traffic, and (the best) Italian style pizza of the NYC tri-state area was beckoning and I couldn’t resist. My boyfriend and I settled in Stamford, Connecticut, a small but trendy urban bedroom community just one hour north of New York City. Right off I-95, It was the perfect starting point for going anywhere we wanted in the Northeast corridor, at a moment’s notice. We went into the City constantly, but we didn’t operate like tourists. We were locals, and I adopted my future husband’s no-nonsense approach to life in NYC. No Broadway hits for us, damn it! We haunted the Garment District, the 24th Street Annex flea market, and unique little retailers dotting the City. And when I missed home or was needed for family events, I would take the I-95 south road trip always returning back to Connecticut with my Utz potato chips, Berger cookies, Rheb's chocolates, and Mom’s homemade Italian meatballs.
Eight years into my Northeast residence, another personal turn occurred. My marriage dissolved and my career advanced, or so I thought. The Connecticut-based company with whom I was employed, offered me a promotion and new assignment in the Midwest. Not just the Midwest, but Hutchinson, Kansas, the center most point of the United States smack in the middle of the heartland! Based on professional recommendations and a twisted sense of adventure, I figured I would take a chance. What’s the worst that could happen? Nothing! And I mean, absolutely nothing. Nothing was happening in Hutchinson and it was clearly not the place for an East Coast girl. Don’t get me wrong, rural Kansas is clean, quiet, friendly, and pleasant. The people are lovely (when you can find any people!), and the cost of living is less than half of East Coast cities’.
During my exile in middle Kansas, I tried to get home two or three times a year. But like my Baltimore trips from Connecticut, my time was always limited and the places I frequented were those I already knew and not always in the city. Closer to home, I would wind up Ellicott City, or Columbia. On the occasional Saturday night, friends and I would venture down to Cross Street Market in Federal Hill. The bottom line to these periodic visits was that I was home to see my family and not so much to re-discover the city. And to be honest, I avoided Baltimore’s latest and greatest, because I didn’t want to add any fuel to an already smoldering desire to get back home.
The Heartland, like any where in the U.S., does make an effort to be culturally progressive, but it just wasn’t enough to keep my attention for any more than two years. That smoldering desire grew into a burning urge to move back home to Baltimore. So after two years and five months in Kansas, I had saved enough money to quit my job and move back to Irvington. Best decision I ever made in my life! What lay ahead was an entirely new Baltimore, a world of entertainment, food, culture, and friends, whose close knit social network is now my “friend support system” otherwise known as “The Four Karens.” More on them later… It’s been a six month whirlwind romance with my beloved city, and I want to continue it for a long time. I’ll take you on my discoveries to some new places, some familiar places, and some places that would still be considered works in progress.
In the first installment of my five part series on rediscovering my once and current city, I’ll take a closer look at East Baltimore, an area that had been alien to me, a West Baltimorean who never even thought about it let alone visit. I’ll share with you the cool things I’m discovering from the Creative Alliance in Highlandtown to the diverse restaurants in Harbor East. So please keep your eyes on this space and join me on the rediscovery and love affair with a city that has more charm than anywhere else: Balmer!