Boston Backstreet Boys

Through the decades, ye blog writer has managed to log more than a few miles in the Big City, Boston, but not until this past weekend was I able to tally some of those miles hitting sites that Andrew and I traversed during an epic father-son outing.

A tiny piece of background detail:  Jack, bride-to-be Heather, Katie, and Zoe were, as Andrew and I hit the pavement, hitting the bridal shops on Newbury Street.  The result of that bridal visit is a whole other topic altogether, and one which I can't post any pics to chronicle, for reasons that should seem obvious.  (Hint: SHE SAID YES TO THE DRESS!)  But I digress....

Andrew and I took advantage of the brilliant sunshine to instead explore many of the locales that millions of tourists come to Boston to enjoy.  This particular morning, we had a clear passage through many of those pathways, as there wasn't an abundance of foot traffic on many of the routes.

So without further ado, a quick tourist's guide to some of the sights of beautiful Beantown.  Hopefully you'll learn something about the Massachusetts capital in the process!

Our first mile took us across the Arthur Fiedler footbridge that spans Storrow Drive.  The footbridge was built in 1953 and named after the legendary Boston Pops Orchestra conductor Arthur Fiedler, who led the Pops from 1930 to 1979.  It connects the Back Bay to the Esplanade.  This day, Andrew's feet barely touched the ground as he crossed over Storrow Drive.

From there, it was time to pay homage to Fiedler himself - his statue, erected in 1984, is made of 83 aluminum plates and was built by Lippincott of North Haven, Connecticut.

His bust faces the venue where he spent his decades leading the Pops.

Apologies for the back side, but Andrew captured me running alongside the legendary Charles River Esplanade.

  

The aforementioned concert venue, the Edward Hatch Memorial Shell, (The Hatch Shell), which was built in 1939 and plays host to the world-renown Boston Fourth of July celebration each year.  

From there, we crossed the iconic Longfellow Bridge, which spans the Charles River and connects Boston to Kendall Square in Cambridge.  The bridge was first opened to traffic in 1906.

The span is named for American poet and author Henry Wordsworth Longfellow, he of Paul Revere's Ride fame, among other notable works.  In the background is the John Hancock tower, located near the terminus of the vaunted April Boston Marathon.

The bridge's ornamental stone towers have led many to call the bridge the Salt and Pepper Bridge due to the towers' shaker shapes.

On the Cambridge side of the Charles, the Cambridge Parkway was surprisingly free of much foot traffic, giving us the unimpeded run of the walkway.

The tyrannosaurus rex outside the Museum of Science is currently wearing a COVID-19 safety mask  that's about five feet wide and took a museum staff member around 10 hours to custom-make!

The Leonard P. Zakim bridge was opened in 2003, and is an iconic A-frame cable bridge that brings Interstate 93 traffic into Boston's tunnels.  Bruce Springsteen, a favorite of many regular readers of this blog, performed at the bridge's dedication.  It's named for Boston area civil rights activist Zakim, who championed "building bridges between peoples."

True Story:  Andrew claimed it as his own as a young lad nearly 20 years ago because he thought the A frame structure was an homage to his name.  As a result, at least in Cook family circles, we still lovingly refer to it as the Andrew Bridge.

Heading toward the North End, we logged some steps across from the U.S.S. Constitution, seen in the background beyond the lumbering runner in green.

Berthed at Pier One in the Charlestown Navy Yard, Old Ironsides is a three-masted wooden-hulled frigate of the U.S. Navy, and is the world's oldest ship still afloat.

Didn't get to the traverse the North End streets made famous by 1970s Prince Spaghetti runner Anthony Martignetti, who found television immortality as a 12-year-old Italian immigrant sprinting through the North End to answer his mother's window beckons of "Anthony, Anthony!"  (Sadly, Anthony died in 2020.)

We did, however, make it to the picturesque trellises of the Friends of Christopher Columbus Park on Boston Harbor.

Katie was busy documenting events at the aforementioned dress fitting, but we made sure to visit her workplace, the New England Aquarium, which was bustling this fine morning.  (If you visit the aquarium, be sure to seek out guide Katie Cook for a plethora of marine life information!)

No visit to Boston would be complete without a pass through Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market - a treasure trove of shops and eateries.  Oh, and a spinosaurus as well!

The Old State House was built in 1713 and was the seat of the Massachusetts General Court and is one of the oldest public buildings in the United States.  It's the oldest surviving public building in Boston, and is now a history museum.

So naturally, we had to bridge the old to the new, and cross the Boston Common, with the current Massachusetts State House in the background.

Phew!  There's obviously hundreds more landmarks we could have taken in, had we chosen to extend our 10K run a bit more.  But the ladies - and a Cornish pasty lunch - awaited, so we had to call it a day.  But an unforgettable day it was, indeed!

Feels like there's some more future running blogs waiting to be documented with another series of exploratory runs.

Andrew and I stand - and run - ready to accept the challenge.

It's Fun to Run with the Y-M-C-A

Much like Jean Luc Picard stepped into fill the bridge post formerly held by James Tiberius Kirk, Sunday was a day for the Next Generation to step into the fold and show us longtime runners that the future of running in the family is in good hands - or feet.

The Lemay family took to the pathways behind the Tsongas Center and along the Merrimack River to crank out some of their best times EVAH for a 5K run (3.1 miles).

Haley and Brook have been tearing up the times of late, competing in races with the junior version of the Greater Lowell Road Runners.  Today, their older sister Addison, along with mom and dad, were logging the official miles along the Merrimack with them.

The race was the 5th annual 5K River Run the Greater Lowell Family YMCA holds annually (give or take a pandemic or two).  Proceeds from the race support the club's Annual Scholarship Campaign that provides assistance to keep the club's services accessible to all.

The girls' Papa and Memere also came out to cheer them on, along with younger sis, Harper

Andrew and his goddaughter were all smiles before the race started

Pre-race, it was smiles all around.  (Some would fade once the miles started getting notched)

Haley was like a lightning bolt right out of the chute, drawing first blood

Brook, with her pace car, Andrew

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Addy started with Mom and Dad, then agreed to let Uncle Pat jump in to pace her.

Not sure she'll  agree to THAT arrangement ever again!

A nice detour through the center of what was once the Lawrence Manufacturing Mills, getting us up to the Aiken Street Bridge

On the north side of the riverwalk, the eldest sisters were able to high five one another heading in and out bound

Brook was still in fine form heading into Mile 2 - her pace car was holding his own as well

On the final stretch into the finish, Mom and Dad Lemay kicked in the after burners to blaze across the finish line together.  Didn't check the official results, so not sure who topped the standings, not that it matters to this pair.

The finish line family photo!

With personal best times all around for the family, it proved to be a memorable day on the running paths for this family.

Truly invigorating to see the young 'uns stepping into the sport with such zeal and energy.  It does a heart good to see another wave making such incredible running memories, and doing it all as a family to boot - or, in this case, to sneaker!

Congrats Lemay Runners!

Dual Reservoir Dogs

Every once in a while, the circumstances line up to combine for the perfect run, and Sunday's double reservoir loop in Brookline and Brighton was just one of those days.  Weather, stamina, energy, and mental relaxation are all key pieces of the puzzle.  And more often than not, location plays a major role.

This weekend, Andrew needed to log a 5K loop (3.1 miles)  to take part in a virtual fundraiser for his workplace, Pinkerton Academy, in Derry N.H.  Proceeds from the charity run were being earmarked for relief efforts to help those displaced by the war in the Ukraine.

So as luck would have it, this particular Sunday morning Heather, Jack, Ryan's mom Nancy, and two of Heather's bridesmaids Katie and Kailey were spending their morning checking out potential wedding gowns for Heather at a bridal shop in Boston.

For Andrew and I?  It provided an opportunity we've been waiting months for - to go exploring the roadways behind Heather and Ryan's Brookline apartment and logging miles on roadways some of which we've never run on before.  (And yes, that did include some of the hills of Brookline, including Aspinwall Hill.)

First up?  The Brookline Reservoir.  (Which, by the way, was the windiest and therefore, most intimidating part of the run.)

The reservoir is a man-made body of water, about a mile wide, originally built as a drinking water supply for Boston.  From what I could glean, the park and reservoir date back almost 175 years!

It boasts a 32-acre park, which Andrew and I were only too happy to circumnavigate.

From there, we wound through some more side streets of Brookline, making our way out to more familiar environs, the Chestnut Hill reservoir behind Boston College, in the Old Chestnut Hill Historic District.  This reservoir was created in 1870 on marshes and meadowlands to also assist with supplying water to Boston.  (It was taken off line about four decades ago because it wasn't needed anymore for said water supply.)

Regular readers of this blog might recognize this site as the backdrop of many a past springtime Boston Marathon training run.  The mile-and-a-half reservoir loop featured into many of our long runs in advance of marathons past, wrapping Heartbreak Hill and the hills of Newton into the extended mileage.

Today, the mileage wasn't as extended as in years past, but they were plenty inspirational for this father and son, as we found ourselves energized/supercharged by the skyline views of Boston.

Adding to the energy of the day was the literally HUNDREDS of other runners who were out this beautiful spring morning, most of them logging group runs during one of the primo Boston Marathon training weekends heading into the Patriots Day race.

Normally, on Marathon Monday, this particular stretch of Beacon Street can seem endless and torturous as you try to notch the final 3-5 miles that gets you into Boylston Street.  Today, it was effortless, relaxing and a great pipe-cleaner to close out the weekend.

The architecture along the street is unique, distinct, and picturesque, even if the occasional runner passes through the shot.

Both Andrew and I donned yellow and blue togs today to pay some extra respect to Ukraine and the global crisis unfolding there.

Yeah, we know our Sunday morning duo run won't make much of difference in the long run for the besieged country, but this special 90 minute pocket of father-son springtime running sure helped us feel like we were trying.

A Wet and Chili Soup Run

For more than a dozen years, regular readers of this blog have been privy to an annual New Year's Day tradition for the extended Band of Brothers and Sisters known collectively as the E Streeters - the Soup Run.  The E Streeters moniker, with a nod Bruce Springsteen and the E Street band, dates back to the name of the 1980s recreational basketball and volleyball teams that brought us together in our high school and college years.  We adopted the E Streeters group name for wedding (and bachelor party) gatherings, and in the ensuing years, brought our spouses, children, co-workers, and newfound friends into the fold, so that we now number in the thousands.  Maybe millions, who knows anymore?

There's several events that bring us together, but on the calendar, the first one up is always the New Year's Day Soup Run.  It's an annual gathering that lends itself to several traditions - logging the first few miles of running in a New Year, breaking bread around some killer bowls of soup, but most importantly, a gathering of friends and family to close out one year and mark the voyage into a New Year together, as friends who are still healthy and able to gather and enjoy good memories together.

These are folks who've been together and shared experiences, in some cases, for nearly half a century.

Alas, the last two years have dealt all of us a hand none of us expected to experience in our lifetimes - a global pandemic that has changed the way we gather, change how we can interact, and in the cases of this tradition, how we can enjoy a bowl of soup together.

On top of that, this year saw several members of our Merry Band of Brothers unable to join us for the annual outing - traveling abroad, locked into family events in other regions, or sidelined with injuries.

Most significantly, the usual Founders of the Feast - John and Karen - were sunning themselves in warmer climes, so it was time for Plan B.

Enter Scott, the usual provider of Top 10 Chili at the Run the Rivah race.

We parked at one of our frequent haunts, East Boston Campus in Westford.  Yes, we know it's know the Stony Brook Conservation Land, but for those of us who've been running there for 30 years, it will always be EBC.

(BTW, the trails there have been under construction recently, thanks to some eager beavers)

Back to the Star of the Day - the chili

This year, for the first time in decades, Scott veered off the recipe for his usual Top 10 Chili and reworked a recipe to include ground chili peppers in place of chili powder, plus a few other secret ingredients.

While we've done previous Soup Runs in bitter cold, icy or snow conditions, this MAY have been the first time we've had rain conditions on New Year's Day.

Luckily, Scott had a hatchback.

Carlos, who normally prefers donuts at the end of our runs, made an exception for an exceptional chili this time around.

Andrew, undaunted by the rain, was ready for the undertaking.

Another staple of the annual Soup Run is the to-go container.  Normally, Karen and John send us on our way with leftover chicken soup, Italian soup, or vegetable soup offerings

Barry has been known to bring a few gallon containers to assist with his doggie-bag efforts.

Andrew, victorious with his double barrel take-home containers.

So there you go.

Hoping to get back on the blogging trail with some more regularity in 2022.  It's always been a successful way to chronicle our life experiences together and celebrate the shared fun, friendship and family that help keep us all sane.

Feels like now, more than ever, it's the kind of grounding we can all use.

Happy New Year, all!

Happy 70th Mom and Dad

Theirs was not a conventional love story, at least not by today's standards, but for a young couple who grew up in the Flats neighborhood of the city of Lowell, it certainly worked and yielded generations of a family to follow, including the author of this blog.

70 years ago today - February 3, 1951, my mother, Marie Payette, married Jimmy Cook.

Sadly, neither of them are alive today to experience their platinum anniversary together with us, but it's a nice thought to imagine them still enjoying their best ballroom dances together.  Sadly, I wish all of the pics to follow that depict their first months together had captions and dates to accompany them and provide perspective, but alas, I have to make do with what I've got.

Found this arcade photo booth gem of the pair from Memorial Day, May 29, 1950.  That would have put my dad two weeks shy of 21, my mother eight days into her 23rd year.

My sister Kathleen laughs when she hears a recounting of how my parents started dating.

For anyone familiar with Lowell's neighborhood history, the pair was well known in their Flats neighborhood, which is located, in today's Mill City geography, at the terminus of the Lowell Connector, along Gorham Street, towards the area known as Back Central Street.  My mother lived on Gorham Street, my father, off and on on nearby Auburn or Richmond Streets.

My mother was a clerk in the Registry of Deeds at Lowell Superior Court, located just a few blocks from her home.  My father was a lineman for the Lowell Electric Light Corporation (later Massachusetts Electric, today, National Grid) on Perry Street.

My mother, as chronicled elsewhere on this blog, was also a chorister singing in a choir that performed regularly at the Lowell Memorial Auditorium.  My father was a street tough neighborhood kid, who lost his mother at the age of 10 then enjoyed a fairly successful professional boxing career, cut short when he was jumped by some thugs on Market Street and nearly beaten to death because he refused to throw a fight at the request of a local bookie.  My dad opted to go the professional route, at first, using his deceased brother Gerald's name on the boxing card, before finally taking his own name in the ring.  He told my brother he chose to go the professional route in order to get paid money, the only way he could survive as a teenager in the 1940s.

Both of them were attendees of St. Peter's Church, now lost to the wrecking ball.

My parents would occasionally recount what counted as courting for them in those days.

My father would stand, leaning against the wall outside the law offices located on the corner of Gorham and Highland Street.  The building's still there today.

He would watch every day as my mother walked back and forth from her home to her office in the courthouse.  Occasionally, he would walk her to her home.  Eventually, he asked her out.

Today, that type of activity might be considered stalking.

Then, it was courting Lowell style, and so it was he summoned up the courage to ask out the girl he admired from afar - or at least from across the street.

She consented, much to the consternation of some who couldn't understand why this singing maiden would pair up with a rough and tumble boxer.

To quote a St. Peter's School nun who saw the two of them pushing my brother in a baby carriage years later - "you didn't marry him, did you?"

Yes, Sister, she did.

Believe it or not, I actually discovered both a napkin and a matchbook from my parent's special wedding day.  Preserved, albeit in a fragile state, 70 years later. 

As legend has it, my father proposed to my mother while the pair sat on a park bench in the South Common, which in its heydey, was quite the social gathering spot in Lowell - easily accessible by foot, centrally located, and sprawling enough to accommodate large crowds (see: V-Day celebration)

The couple got married, of course, in nearby St. Peter's Church at 2 in the afternoon on Saturday, February 3, 1951, under the sign of Aquarius. (Might be why my mother wanted so badly to see the historic church spared from demolition.

According to the Lowell Sun newspaper's account of the wedding:

Rev. William Mullen officiated at an altar adorned with mixed gladioli.  Escorted by her father (my grandfather Phillip Payette), my mother wore a dress trimmed with rhinestones.

After the church ceremony, my parents and their invited guests headed to a location, whose name currently escapes me, lost to the history books.  It resembled an airplane hanger with a curved roof and was in nearby Dracut.  The name will come to me and I'll come back here to update the post once I find it.  Happy to hear from anyone who might know its proper name.

My mother's maid of honor was her sister Helen.  My aunt, god bless her, is still rocking it out!

My father's best man was his younger brother, Eddie.

The couple went off to honeymoon at a recreation club in New York - picture the setting in the Dirty Dancing movie, and I always envision it was something along those lines, absent Baby and Johnny.  According to the Sun newspaper, when they left for their honeymoon, my mother wore a maroon outfit with black and white accessories and a corsage of white orchids. 

But here's where the story takes a turn, one that thousands of other young couples similarly experienced at the time.

No sooner did my father return from their honeymoon than he shipped off to serve in the Army, fighting in the Korean Conflict. (This comes six years after he had faked his age at 15 to join the Merchant Marines.  They sent him back home once his true age was discovered.  But he wanted to serve in part because he lost his older brother Gerald to the war.)

Just barely months into their marriage and my father was off to fight in a war, uncertain if he would even return safely. (Spoiler alert: he did, thank God.)

Needless to say, I have access to thousands of photos in the ensuing 51 years that they would continue through their lives together, until my father's passing in 2002.  My mother followed him nine years later.  Some of those photos depict other wedding anniversary celebrations, including their 40th and 50th.

But I thought for the purposes of commemorating their wedding day, it would be fitting to spotlight the pics that capture when it was just the two of them in the infancy of the Cook family, circa 1951.

My brother Jimmy would come along two years later, my brother Gerald, two years after that.  Kathleen made her debut three years later, and then six years later, they stopped when they got it right, bringing me into the world to complete our clan.

I've often said my biggest regret in life was not documenting in writing more of the history of my family when they were around to talk about it.

The stories behind the pics (including the one above at the Pawtucket Falls) are lost to time.  I literally have dozens upon dozens of pictures featuring folks whose identities are unknown to me.

One of the primary reasons I still maintain this blog is to help chronicle some of the comings and goings of me, my family and friends during these 21st century years.

Sadly, no such blog existed back in the 1950s, so I'm not able to properly chronicle Jim and Marie's story, providing it the proper historical perspective.

But I'm thrilled that I'm able to share some pics of a young couple who didn't know what the next half century was going to yield for them, just that they were going to tackle it together.

So Happy 70th Anniversary Mom and Dad!

You certainly earned a Platinum rating in our books!