We have survived the Fourth of July weekend and ten canine guests with our sanity and limbs intact, the details are irrelevant.

It never ceases to amaze me where inspiration comes from.  My friend gave me a copy of Garden Walk Buffalo magazine (the Garden Walk is a big deal in Buffalo, and well worth the trip into the city for historians and gardeners alike).  While admiring the many spectacular local gardens, I read an article on the oldest tree in Buffalo. Said tree, a Sycamore, has presided over Franklin Street (once called Tuscarora Street) for the past 300 years. This tree was there before the Revolutionary War was even a secret thought in the minds of our forefathers.  It saw that very war, it survived the burning of Buffalo after the War of 1812, and the Civil War. Surely it will have something to tell me about life in the early decades of Buffalo if I ask it nicely!  I think something very important needs to happen under that tree in my second book, so ask it I will.  I intend to visit the tree, examine it carefully, sit underneath it for a while and see what it has to tell me.  Can you imagine what it might say?  At the risk of sounding a bit daffy, I used to walk through the forests of a southern plantation that served as one of my first archaeological field sites with my eyes closed.  I took in the smells of the leaves and under growth, pungent in the humid July heat.  I listened to the birds chatter and the small creatures as they scurried above and below me on their important errands.  Just above the sounds and smells of nature, if you were really paying attention, were the sounds and smells of early plantation life. The gentle slapping of bare feet on a dirt path, the slice of the hoe through red Virginia clay, the smell of ham and turkey hanging in the smokehouse.  I could really feel the buzz of life and what it would have been like as the slaves went about the various activities that kept the plantation running smoothly.  More than a few times a chill ran up my spine, stopping me dead in my tracks.  Perhaps one of the occupants of the small, unmarked cemetery had tagged along with me on my stroll through the forest...I am hoping the Sycamore on Franklin St. (and chills!) will provide similar insights for the city of Buffalo during its infancy.

I am honored to have been asked by the Museum of disAbility History to serve as a panelist in a discussion panel on preserving institutional cemeteries this Saturday.  This discussion will follow the Grand Opening of their Forgotten People exhibit.  This exhibit honors all those individuals who were buried in institutional cemeteries like the Erie County Almshouse Cemetery.  I first met the incredible people from the Museum of disAbility History, a project of People, Inc., at the dedication ceremony of the Niagara County Almshouse Cemetery, which they had restored.  I was impressed that there is an entire museum in Buffalo dedicated to helping people appreciate the largely misunderstood concept of disability, and that their historic focus extends to the individuals who sought refuge or were committed to the various institutions and asylums of early Buffalo.  I am looking forward to participating in this important event and learning more about the Museum of disAbility History and its goals.  I am hoping that this is the beginning of a very productive relationship between the Museum (and People, Inc.), my Anthropology colleagues, and perhaps a few other local history groups.

https://www.facebook.com/events/469102553224185/