Over 2 years ago, I moved from Baltimore to Portland, OR. I came here both to escape but also for a great quality of life and for a great work opportunity. I had been in Baltimore for 4.5 years for medical training, and while I made some great friends there and worked at a famous hospital, the grit and urbanity of it all was beginning to wear on me (see "The Wire"). The birth of our son Nicholas only exacerbated what frustrations we had about "Charm City," aka the "City that Reads" (although that moniker seemed dated after Baltimore city residents voted down funding for libraries in lieu of a new football stadium). Sirens (invariably police cars), beer bottles on the sidewalk, drunks walking home by our closed or open windows noisily nightly- city living!
Our new home is in the middle of the city, too, but I never think about crime or our safety. We live on a tree-lined street populated mainly by families within walking distance to a beautiful park, in which one may find a great elementary school and high school, cafes, restaurants, grocery stores, and a public library. About that library, there are more books checked out per capita here than any other US city I am told. Thus, it seems that the "Rose City" (for the Rose test garden here) may, in fact, be the true "City that Reads."
Truth be told, this post was borne out of a conversation with Nicholas yesterday. We heard a siren last night as I was telling him stories and getting him ready for bed. I asked him what he thought that was. He replied, "A firetruck... maybe an ambulance." The thought of a police car never crossed his mind, and that is a very, very good thing.
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