The road that binds
In stroll from Dorchester to Arlington, Mass. Ave. exudes sights, sounds of city
EDITOR'S NOTE: If there's one roadway that ties Boston and Cambridge together, it is Mass. Ave. Alan Leo, in the style of Thoreau, took a daylong stroll, starting in Dorchester at sunrise and ending at the reedy edges of the Cambridge-Arlington border in late afternoon. His mission: to make sense of the traffic, the passersby, and the differences from one end to the other. Oh, and did we mention the iced coffee? Here is his account:
"All day, Mass. Ave. is a mess. But nighttimes, you can fly just like a bird," said Jean Marc as he drove his cab, and me, toward Dorchester and the end -- or beginning -- of Massachusetts Avenue.
To Jean Marc, Mass. Ave. is both gravy train and obstacle, a good place to pick up fares but a better place to avoid once the pickup is made. But Mass. Ave. means different things to the people who work, play, and -- sometimes quite literally -- live on the long, broad street that shoots through Boston and Cambridge before wandering into the suburbs.
The cab dropped me in Edward Everett Square, the start of Mass. Ave. and the start of a long walk up the avenue through Dorchester, the South End, Back Bay, and Cambridge.
7:30 a.m. Edward Everett Square. The sun barely has risen in the southeast, over Columbia Road. The light reflects off the Pru and its kid sister, 111 Huntington, directly and distantly to the north. The square is bustling with traffic. A convenience store, a Dunkin' Donuts and a check casher are the institutions of legitimate commerce.
At the Dunkin' Donuts, the cashier pours me an iced coffee and says she will get drunk tonight. A good plan, I tell her. I leave the Dunkin' Donuts and pass two large black garbage bags and the remains of a couch. It is trash day.
7:45 a.m. M.A. Peacard, 1250 Mass. Ave. Paul Coffey of Braintree and Paul Wilkins of Raynham lean on their van in front of the loading area. The pipe fitters are here to pick up ductwork for a boiler job at Harvard University. This is their third stop of the morning.
Peacard is one of the many wide, low, industrial buildings that line the southernmost stretch of Mass. Ave. Founded in 1920, the company, which makes steel ducts and other products, is run today by Bruce Goody, of Needham, grandson of the founder. The construction boom has been good for business, Goody says, as have city renewal efforts that financed a new facade for his factory and similar work at nearby businesses. Mass. Ave. is swallowing the factory, which like much of the South End is sinking into the fill on which it is built. But Goody is sanguine. On the plus side, he says, trucks that couldn't fit below overhangs 30 years ago now glide under with feet to spare.
8:10 a.m. Commuter rail bridge. A sign under the bridge reads, "No trespassing, No dumping." It is ignored on both counts.
8:15 a.m. Newmarket, 1024 Mass. Ave. When trucks turn off Mass. Ave. into the wholesale food market, many of them stop near the entrance at Mama Theresa's Kitchen, a food truck. There, Theresa Obregon and her 13-year-old son Francisco serve hot food to tough-looking men. Ronald Vieira rolls up not in a semi, but behind the shopping cart that is his home. Francisco offers Vieira a burger.
"Those are good people," Vieira says. "They have mercy. They believe in God." For Vieira, who is an alcoholic and an ex-con, Newmarket is a haven from Mass. Ave., where he says he has frequently run afoul of police, passersby, and other homeless people. Pointing at the food truck, he says, "That kid's going to have his own restaurant some day."
9 a.m. Best Western Roundhouse. 891 Mass. Ave. The lobby is crowded with vacationers -- a big part of the hotel's summer business, says Dean Maki, director of sales and marketing. The cylindrical building, built in 1870 to hold gas for lights, was abandoned for more than a decade before the hotel opened in 2001. Maki says the hotel is in a federal Empowerment Zone and has committed to hiring locals in exchange for tax breaks.
9:40 a.m. 566 Mass. Ave. North of Washington Street, Mass. Ave. becomes a construction site. Buildings with broken and burned-out windows alternate with million-dollar condominiums. At a building halfway through its transformation from former to latter, Boston electricians Bob, Glenn, and Brendan take a break from their wiring work. They say this is the second Mass. Ave. building they've renovated this summer, but the general contractor that hired them is working on more than 30.
10:15 a.m. Boston Check Cashers, 781 Tremont St. The check casher, the second so far on Mass. Ave., has no customers at 9:45 a.m. But from behind her plexiglass window, Ester Depina of Dorchester says that Friday will get busy soon. To cash a payroll check, Depina charges 1 percent of the total. "I like it here," she says. "Every day I meet different customers, and I learn a lot."
10:45 a.m. Darcy's Barber Shop, 430 Mass. Ave. Wallace spends three days a week cutting hair in Boston. The other four, he spends at his New York home, working in information services for the Manhattan Borough president. An hour in his chair leaves me well-groomed, $13 lighter, and humming to A Tribe Called Quest. Noon. Starbucks, 147 Mass. Ave. There is no shade on Mass. Ave. I stop for another iced coffee. Inside, Jim Medeiros, a Boston writer, is hanging photographs by his wife, Christine Pasterczyk. The photos depict the stark landscape of Ladakh, a remote, contested region in northern India where Pasterczyk was born.12:40. Harvard Bridge. From the bridge, Boston is beautiful.
12:45. Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 77 Mass. Ave. With its nuclear reactor, linear accelerator, and hundreds of laboratories, MIT boasts some of the world's finest facilities. Good thing, too, because after two iced coffees, facilities are exactly what I need.
1 p.m. Gandhi Restaurant, 704 Mass. Ave. I stop for a $6 buffet lunch. When Gandhi was founded nearly 20 years ago, it was the second Indian restaurant in Central Square. Now there are seven. "It's human nature," says manager Balvinder Singh. "When they see one or two succeed, others try to do the same."
1:40 p.m. 1369 Coffee House, 757 Mass. Ave. As the mercury passes 90, I stop for another iced coffee. So do Cambridge City Solicitor Don Drisdell and Assistant Solicitor Nancy Schlacter. When I mention that Central Square has come far in recent years, Schlacter says, "It all depends on what's built. There are a lot of empty storefronts right now."
2:30 p.m. Harvard University. As I pass Harvard Yard, I wonder what Henry David Thoreau, class of 1837 and author of the essay "Walking," would say about my expedition. I bluff my way into Lamont Library and with the help of Colleen Bryant, a friendly and helpful reference librarian, find this: "An early-morning walk is a blessing to the whole day." Thanks, Henry.
3:15 p.m. Au Bon Pain, 1360 Mass. Ave. Half-a-dozen players -- don't call them hustlers -- play chess for $2 a game in front of Au Bon Pain. The sign on Andre's table reads "Play the Russian Chess Expert," and, for some reason, features a picture of Anatoly Karpov. But he doesn't have to be Karpov to beat me soundly. Neither does Joshua, who gamely takes six more dollars off me.
3:55 p.m. Harvard Square. Sarah, 18, and Jay, 21, are walking their kitten, Bile, through the Square. Jay, with a crew cut and goatee, stops to talk to a panhandler. Sarah, a willowy pink-haired teen, says they have been living in and around Harvard Square since her parents kicked her out in June. "What people don't understand," she says, "is that there's a lot of homeless youth around here."
4:20 p.m. Simon's Coffee House, 1736 Mass. Ave. The sign in front reads, "I come to Simon's because the baristas are so nice." Sold, I stop for ginger ice cream.
4:30 p.m. Porter Square. North of Porter Square, Mass. Ave. changes. The pedestrians decrease sharply, but strollers increase -- especially jogging models, three-wheeled NASCAR simulcra. This is the beginning of the 'burbs.
5:09 p.m. Arlington. At last, I reach my destination. I cross the Alewife Brook, the shallow, concrete-lined ditch that separates Cambridge from Arlington.
And rest.
Alan Leo, when not away drinking iced coffee, can be reached at aleo@globe.com.
