Lafayette Lady

The other day I told you about a woman I watched from across busy Washington Street in Buffalo NY.  I stood in the warmth of a vestibule in a classy downtown office building, and she stood outside, unprotected  from the brutal, icy, Buffalo winds except for the roof over the entrance way of a once proud hotel.   Not frequenting Buffalo on a regular basis any more, it had been years since I really paid attention to the hotel which was once considered one of the 15 finest hotels in the United States.  It was sad to notice the shabby, run-down exterior, drapes askew in the huge, tall windows, and the abject overall look of pure neglect of both the hotel and its inhabitants.  I did some Googling when I got home and found that the hotel served at that time as one-room temporary housing for some of Buffalo's citizens who survive under the wing of social services.

That bit of information explained the people who wandered through those doors.  What I found interesting is that my Lafayette Lady did a lot of walking in and out of the hotel doors.  Was she getting warm?  Was she calling for a ride?  Was she re-checking a bus schedule?  I'll never know, but she must have gone back inside at least ten times during the time I watched her.  While outside, she would constantly rummage through that giant "purse" of hers - moving things into her hands, foraging, looking, checking.  She had a smile and greeting for everyone who walked by or entered the hotel.  I marveled at the joy and the happiness she exuded when she had human contact with another of her hotel-mates.  Apparently she didn't need to be warm to be happy, or dressed in the current style, or even have matching socks.  What seemed to make her happy was the number of friends she appeared to have and the pleasant exchanges she had with each of them.  No matter that she didn't have hat, scarf, gloves or warm duds - her warmth obviously was carried inside and was refueled with each greeting.

Interestingly, I started my wait at the door with the situation that took me to that building weighing heavily on my shoulders. By the time my ride came, I had a much different and lighter perspective about the outcome of that issue.  I believe there is nothing by chance and that this Lafayette Lady was sent for me to observe and, more importantly, to learn from.

The Hotel has been closed to these people now, sold to a contractor who placed it on the Register of Historic Places and is renovating--bringing her back to her old glory.  I can only hope that in the process, some residual memory of my Lafayette Lady will remain in the marble walls and spectacular floors of this grand building and that others will, certainly not by chance, be afforded an opportunity to learn some of life's valuable lessons by Angels Unaware who may appear before them, just as she did for me.

Buffalo Gal

I am reading Laura Pedersen's book by that title which is serving to bring back similar memories of growing up in the Buffalo NY area.  I was actually born and raised in Sloan, just a hair east of Buffalo toward what is now the Boulevard Mall.  My memories stretch back further in time to the Broadway Market and Sattlers across the street at 998 Broadway - a 10 minute bus ride from Sloan (or trolley ride when I was really young), or an hour's walk.  Sattlers had some of the best bargains around, it you had the muscle, stamina, and courage to go after them.  I always got my Italian leather dress shoes from the loaded sale table in the middle of the first floor.  You literally had to elbow your way into the fray, grab anything that looked like your size, and manage to hold your own place at the table (three and four shoppers deep!) while trying on the shoes that were wired together through holes right in the back of them.   If you were lucky and more resilient than some, you walked away with a super deal on awesome shoes, or handbags, or whatever was on those special piled-high sale tables.  I'd have to leave the store early enough to run across the street to the market for fresh kielbasa, eye watering freshly ground horseradish, killer rye bread, and farm fresh tub butter for the weekend breakfast the next day.   The farmers had to close up shop early so they could get ready for another day that started at the crack of dawn.  We definitely appreciated having that bustling market available year round - lucky for the good folk in Buffalo, it still exists, and still bustles during the traditional holiday seasons.  Try it some time.  It's quite an experience.