“To be or not to be is not the question, but to be is much sweeter, and that could be the answer.“
—Miriam Makeba, We Got to Make It
A Paved Paradise
City Picture Frames—a local framing business on Buffalo’s Pearl Street—used to go by The Genesee Picture Frame Co. A German family started the business in 1904 that was located—as you might have guessed—on Genesee Street. It operated there until the 1960’s.
A lot of things changed for the city then. One of the most impactful changes was the city government’s decision to broadly exercise its eminent domain powers in certain parts of the city. It also seized parkway land in the historically Black Humboldt Parkway neighborhood. In the end, they “paved paradise” to put in an expressway.1
Thankfully, the framing company survived. The German family sold the business to a different family, who moved it to an amazing brick building on Pearl Street (near the Shea’s Theatre rear entrance). Someone from that family eventually partnered with the current owner, Suzanne Houenstein.
The Framing Shop
There is something cozy about Suzanne’s shop. There are cats, antique chairs, large work tables piled with carefully covered projects, and art hanging on the walls or—in one case—suspended from the ceiling.
Most of the art on display was produced at the hands of local artists and is available for purchase. The effect is that one feels as if entering an artisan craft shop that doubles as an art gallery.
One finds, too, a sense of community that envelops the space. Suzanne knows her customers well, and many of her customers appear to be from a generation that is used to engaging in idle conversation with strangers.
The Telethon
One couple was there to gather sports paraphernalia (Go, Bills!) that had been framed for one of the longest running—and few remaining—telethons in the United States. Hosted by the Variety Club—an international organization with chapters as far away as Australia—eighty-percent of the funds collected go to a variety of children’s organizations. The organization has also been known to issue special grants for larger funding needs.
The Soldier
Another man came in to have a picture of himself framed. He spoke with what sounded like a German accent. In the photo he is wearing a military uniform. I can see his younger self in the older man that stands before me. He jokes that he is often asked for which army he served. He provides—without my asking—it was the American army. I asked where the photograph was taken. His answer: 1957, Fort Knox, Kentucky. Once upon a time, I spent some time there myself (spouse).
Blessed Are the Prepared
Our conversation was cut short as Suzanne came into the shop. She had been helping the Variety Club couple to their car with the carefully wrapped auction items. As Suzanne talks to the gentleman, I find he is framing the photo in anticipation of his funeral. I find this shocking; he is nonplussed, mentioning it as casually as one might say they’ve run out of milk or butter.
He left the shop talking about his plans to relocate to a warmer climate.
An Uncomfortable Moment & Two Extraordinary Examples of Kindness
While we picked frames for two splendiferous (thank you, wombats!) photographs—not mine—Marsha Henderson, former Key Bank President turned photographer—I learned about Suzanne’s business, admired the art, and enjoyed the ambiance.
At one point, I heard a man, upset, yelling outside. There were others that stood outside blocking the shop door. The framing shop is not far from the City Mission, one the city’s homeless shelters. It was clear these men had fallen on hard times, but knowing that didn’t stop me from feeling tense. Then I witnessed Suzanne’s husband kindly ask the group to stop blocking the doorway. Instead of going inside right away, however, he went out to talk to them. The man stopped yelling, the atmosphere mellowed, and the men moved on.
It reminded me of a time when we were in Florida, and a woman bent with age and poverty was slowly making her way across the only outlet from our beachfront hotel, and the light was green. The woman pushed a shopping cart full of clothing and plastic bags; she appeared to be homeless. My husband was driving and could have been impatient. Instead, he got out of the car and helped the woman cross. In that moment I was reminded of what true love looks like and acts like. Such acts of kindness are one of the things I love most about him.
The Ogress and The Orphans
I did eventually leave the shop—though, not before I had purchased some local art. As I reflected on my day that evening. I thought of Kelly Barnhill’s The Ogress and The Orphans. The book follows residents of a town: Stone-in-the-Glen.
The town has fallen on hard times. The library and the school have burned down, the trees are gone, and there is a sinkhole where the park used to be. The people in the town become distrustful of each other and put faith into a leader who is all too happy to profit from the misfortune of his constituents.
The picture is indeed bleak, but despite everything, the Ogress’ individual acts of kindness start to take root and spread. The townspeople start to connect with one another once more. They see and experience the beauty that takes shape when a group of people come together for the purpose of mutual aid.
Who Is a Neighbor?
The people in Barnhill’s story come to understand that neighbors include the people it is most convenient to ignore or discriminate against, whether it be the fictional Ogress, London’s “rough sleepers,” or Buffalo’s own downtrodden.
And, so it is that I find myself feeling challenged to really consider how it is that I can be a better neighbor and work toward a common good that benefits us all. One way I know how to help is to donate. I do that well, but I want to work on what’s harder for me.
Some time after Matt helped that woman in Florida, I decided to keep cash on my person to give to those who ask while looking them in the eye and wishing them well. While writing this post, I saw the City Mission is accepting a number of volunteers. Perhaps that is my next challenge.
- The government’s actions were devastating and still affect our city today. ↩︎
