I grew up in Syracuse, New York. This is the house that I lived in for twenty some years. It's less than a mile from where my dad grew up on Holley Ave. and just a couple miles from where my Mom grew up in East Syracuse in the other direction. This is Eastwood, just outside of the downtown area. My folks still live on Woodbine Avenue in this house that looks pretty good to me here on this snow bound day. 

Click on the upstairs window or  'knock' on the porch door of 478 Woodbine Ave.

 Syracuse, to give you a little back ground is an  anachronistic town that was once part of a network that spurred on millions of people as they made there way westward in the early days of industrialization and the great period of Manifest Destiny, when millions of  people ventured into the heartland of America or on to the promises of California. It was common as well for immigrants to make there way into this country through Ellis island in Manhattan Harbor, travel upstate along the Hudson to Albany where they would follow the Erie canal across the state, through cities like Syracuse, on to Buffalo on route to Chicago, St. Louis and then Westward. But many settled here, and my heritage is a fairly common mix for the time. There where many Italian and Irish immigrants that came up from New York City. That's mostly what I knew growing up in my neighborhood: Italians and the Irish. Of course I know a million off color ethnic jokes that reflect my Italian/Irish-Catholic background.

       Syracuse then could boast of it's cultural merit with several ornate theaters, a great downtown shopping district an a carnival on one of the most beautiful lakes in the country. The Erie canal ran right through downtown as did the railroad. There are great photos of people  with horse and buggies, early automobiles and huge steam engines, side by side, rolling through the streets along with the pedestrian traffic. It was a town of theater and the arts where Broadway shows were debuted; it was then considered "off  Broadway." But that was along time ago, and now the city named for it's Italian counterpart,  built up on a swampland among the Iroquois nation, and once rich with industry and salt mines is a struggling half broken community that is more an unnoticed footnote in history than anything else.
      But I still love the city and feel like there is a great heart in this place. When I lived there and when I visit, there is feeling of community that is comforting in that there is a general  acceptance of  what is, simply is.  But I always felt a little sad for my home town and would often say that it's a city that promises just enough to feel that it's worth staying, and yet never offers enough that you don't wonder why you don't leave. Ultimately for me, there was not enough there in the way of opportunity and I chose to spread my wings; but, I always hope that I'll be able to go back to Syracuse proud as one of it's native sons.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

In the kitchen. This is me with my brother Tony behind me, my sister Anne behind him, Jamie to the right and a very small Daniel in the kids seat! Michael and Mary Elizabeth are not yet on the scene. Just one big Catholic family in the making (circa 60's) , whoow!