Over the last several weekends my wife and I have turned our attention from NYC’s Chinatown and it’s yummy dim sum and directed it south towards Newark, NJ’s tasty Portuguese bakeries. Though I certainly brought my appetite the first time around. My camera was nowhere to be found. When our first trip produced a series of ooooh’s and ahhh’s. I couldn’t wait to come back with my camera to document the historic beauty, history and texture Newark had to offer. So after a tasty breakfast of grilled cheese and sonhas at Suissa’s. We drove off to do some exploring while on our way to Clifton.
As we headed on to Passaic Ave. I began to recognize the factories and warehouses. “I was here a few years back.” I exclaimed. Just then, I noticed a Newark patrol care and quickly recalled being held
and questioned by a task force I had no idea ever existed. Quickly, I shoved the camera back in the bag until I was sure we were not being tailed and were completely out of the range of any city or state authorities. Within minutes we found a local strip mall, parked and took to foot. I can’t pinpoint just what attracts me to what most see as ugly and broken down. Sometimes it makes me think of the excitement those early trips to the junkyards with my Dad or the trashy treats my Mom would find at local flea market. Whatever the roots may be. I’m grateful that something so simple can make me feel like a kid in a candy store. Isn’t that what life’s all about anyway?
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