I have been too busy to relate my time in Richmond, although I will get to it. I followed in the footsteps of Elvis Presley (this was the inspiration, although there was also an Elvis photo exhibit in Richmond that I wanted to see), I went where he went, I poked around behind buildings to see the back entrances, I stood at all angles in certain spots to try to imagine my way back in time. The best part is that the original structures are still there: the hotel, the theatre, the train station (although it’s now a museum). Richmond is a historic place. You can’t walk 2 feet without tripping over some history. But it was especially wonderful because you didn’t have to do too much imagining, because the buildings where he was were right there. You could, conceivably, picture yourself back in 1956 if you ignored the cell phone in your pocket and the make and model of the cars. It’s one of my favorite kinds of trips. I grew up in an area of the country where Founding Fathers strolled by on the very street where I grew up. As a teenager I worked at a place which was an historic building, and also the small regional headquarters for Revolutionary meetings, so Washington would stop by on his way somewhere else (boy got around). So every day I walked on steps that Washington walked on, and while I didn’t always think of those long-gone historical figures, sometimes I did. And it gives a nice feeling of an accordion folding up and splaying out. Time buckling in, giving us a window into the past, that happened right there in front of you.
My friend Cara and I are big Sylvia Plath fans. Our love for her has, on occasion, crossed over into something akin to mania. This is a perfect and brilliant example.
Cara is currently in London and took a trip to Fitzroy Road.
Welcome back…Still envious!
I love this story so much! You got the good lines, especially the one about your blacks crackle and drag. And the journals! I hope I live long enough for them to turn up. I’m roughly the same age as Frieda Hughes, so maybe.