Welcome everyone to Cee’s Which Way Photo Challenge. This challenge’s subject is the roads, walks, trails, rails, by which we move from place to place. You can walk them, climb them, drive them, ride them — as long as the way is visible. Any angle of a bridge is acceptable, as are any signs.

I’m always looking for exciting and interesting roads, but most roads are just roads. No big deal, nothing special. They do their job. Signs point the way. Bridges cross over roads or rivers.

Some of these pictures are Garry’s — check the signature if you aren’t sure!


Black & White Sunday: Stronghold

According to the Learner’s Dictionary STRONGHOLD is:
: an area where most people have the same beliefs, values, etc.: an area dominated by a particular group
The area/district/state is a Republican stronghold.
: a protected place where the members of a military group stay and can defend themselves against attacks
The rebels retreated to their mountain stronghold.
: an area where a particular type of uncommon animal can still be found
The last stronghold of the endangered deer.

This is Massachusetts’ Statehouse, from the back. It shows the tunnel that runs beneath it, originally designed to allow traffic to pass unimpeded. It has been closed for years, not unlike most of the minds within. This is a stronghold … of exactly what, you are free to decide for yourself.




This week, it’s Boston. You’d think being on the road would be the best time for posting these pictures, but it usually means I don’t have time to process most of them.

I did get a few put together for you. Hope you enjoy them. Beacon Hill and Back Bay, mostly, and a hint of Fenway.


If you are a real baseball fan, you live and die with your team’s success and failure. It’s all about winning, not how you play the game.


I’ve been passionate about baseball for more than 65 years of my life. The pre baseball years were devoted to kid stuff like cowboys and Indians. I’ve rooted for three teams in my life. The Brooklyn Dodgers, Casey’s original Amazin’ New York Mets, and the Boston Red Sox.

Agony and ecstasy have marked my love for these teams. All were perennial long-time losers, demonizing generations of their followers. Victory as in winning the World Series was the sweetest wine ever tasted.


When the Red Sox won the World Series in 2004, their first title since the end of World War One, peace was bestowed on generations in the Red Sox Nation. The Bosox have since won two more World Series, totaling three in nine years. Success is now expected by the pilgrims who discovered baseball after 2000 and (current) new Sox ownership.


Great expectations easily breed discontent. In the Red Sox Nation, the grapes of wrath are growing because of the team’s mediocre pitching, despite off-season trades and free-agent signings to bolster the offense.


The suits who run Fenway’s boys of summer club refuse to deal for quality pitching. They claim to be satisfied with the mediocrity of the current staff, saying the arms will improve with time. One of the pitchers is already on the disabled list with a “tired arm”, six weeks into the season and with an ERA over five.

The suits say it’s still early. They don’t want to deal or spend foolishly.

Marilyn and I recently made our pilgrimage to Boston’s cathedral of baseball. The Sox were playing out-of-town, so we could move around easily, observing the salutes to past teams.


You could hear murmurs about the current Sox and their woeful pitching. What to do?

Marilyn decided to help boost the team’s financial coffers and bought a nifty hat. It was a bargain! Only 3 times what you would pay at your favorite department store not named the “Red Sox Team Store.” Marilyn should get a lot of use out of her hat. Its brim has more snap to it than most of the curve balls thrown by the Red Sox starters.

It’s a long season. Maybe Marilyn’s purchase will be the alms that bring quality arms to our beloved team.

Maybe. Not.


We went photographing in Boston yesterday. It turned out to be as close to perfect a day as you could ask for. Quite warm, but not humid. Brilliantly sunny, a classic late spring day with everything in full bloom.


Our first stop was Beacon Hill. Garry and I lived on Beacon Hill for a year right after we were married. It was our first place together. A cute, tiny apartment. Emphasis on tiny.


It had a working fireplace which, if lit, would make the flat hot enough to smelt ore. It had a back garden patio. It seemed like a wonderful idea, but turned out to have a resident raccoon who did not wish to share his space. I didn’t feel inclined to argue the point.


Beacon Hill was a fascinating place to be, but living in that apartment was not fun. In addition to all its other problems, it was heavily infested by cockroaches with attitude. It was much too small for us. It might have been too small for anyone. Moving out of there was an incredible relief.


I’ve continued to hold Beacon Hill in great affection. It’s the original Boston, the oldest part of the city, the place from which (in legend) Paul Revere began his ride. Although the first battles of the American Revolution were fought in Lexington and Concord, the war’s true birthplace was Beacon Hill.


We still know our way around which was interesting. We haven’t been back in at least 10 years, maybe longer.

Today it was crawling with tourists. I heard German, Russian, Hebrew, and Italian being spoken by various groups with guides. Virtually no English. The only natives were walking dogs.


We took a great many pictures today. I haven’t processed even half of them. To give you an idea of what I mean, we burned through three batteries. It’s going to take a while.


I hope you enjoy this bright day in the middle of May on Boston’s historic Beacon Hill.


Guest Challenge: Symbolism


It is a peculiar, beloved symbol. Familiar to anyone who follows baseball or who lives in or near Boston.


The CITGO Sign in Boston’s Kenmore Square

The iconic CITGO sign has been a part of the Boston skyline since 1940. Located at 660 Beacon Street, on what was once a Cities Service divisional office, the sign originally featured the Cities Service logo, but was replaced with the famous CITGO “trimark” of today when the CITGO brand was created for the marketing division of Cities Service in 1965.

Efforts to remove the sign in the early 1980s faced fierce opposition and led CITGO to restore the sign, with groups even fighting to declare the sign a landmark. The CITGO Sign is held in particular high regard by Boston sports fans. Red Sox sluggers are enticed by the so-called “C-IT-GO” sign as they blast home runs over the left-field wall, and runners in the grueling Boston Marathon welcome its sight as the 20th mile mark. Its pulsing flash in the night sky has even been used by mothers-to-be at nearby Beth Israel to time their contractions.

It’s no secret that the CITGO Sign in Boston’s Kenmore Square is beloved by people across the country and around the world. Not only has it become a major image of the city of Boston, featured in postcards and tourist brochures, but the sign was deemed an “Objet d’Heart” by Time Magazine, was photographed by Life Magazine and featured in the New York Times. It has even become a source of inspiration for artists, musicians and filmmakers from around the world.


It is an important piece in trying to navigate Boston. If you can see the Citgo sign, you know you’ve found Kenmore Square. And Fenway Park. As soon as it it comes into view, you are not lost.


If, perchance, you’re on your way to see the Red Sox, you’re home.



There’s a big storm coming. How big? Hard to tell, but definitely a very substantial snow event. This seems to be the time of year when the biggest storms hit this region. About 37 years ago, when a storm began moving into eastern Massachusetts on the afternoon of Feb. 6, 1978, thousands of people were let out of work early to get home before the storm. But traffic was, as usual, heavy and the snow began falling at over an inch per hour. Soon more than 3,000 automobiles and 500 trucks were stranded in rapidly building snowdrifts along Rt. 128 (same as Route 95). Fourteen people died from carbon monoxide poisoning as they huddled in trapped cars.


There are so many incredible scenes that remain clear in my memory from the Blizzard of ’78.

I was smack dab in the middle of it from the beginning as one of the few reporters who could get to the station without a car. I lived just down the street and was able to slog through the snow to the newsroom. I found myself doing myriad live shots across Massachusetts and other parts of New England. I would like to give a special shout out to my colleagues who ran the cameras, the trucks, set our cable and mike lines, kept getting signals when it seemed impossible and worked nonstop under the most dire and difficult conditions. All I had to do was stand in front of the camera or interview people. I recall standing in the middle of the Mass Turnpike, the Southeast Expressway, Rt. 495 and other major arteries doing live shots.

There was no traffic. There were no people. Abandoned vehicles littered the landscape. It was surreal. Sometimes it felt like Rod Serling was calling the shots. The snow accumulation was beyond impressive. I am or was 5 foot 6 inches. I often had to stand on snow “mountains” to be seen. My creative camera crews used the reverse image to dwarf me (no snickering, please) to show the impressive snow piles. No trickery was needed. Mother Nature did it all.

Downtown Boston looked like something out of the cult movie “The World, The Flesh And The Devil”. The end of the world at hand. No motor traffic, very few people: just snow as high and as far as the eye could see.

Ironically, people who were usually indifferent to each other became friendly and caring. Acts of kindness and compassion were commonplace, at least for a few days. Those of us working in front or back of the camera logged long hours, minimal sleep, lots of coffee, lots of pizza and intermittently laughed and grumbled. There are some behind the scenes stories that will stay there for discretion’s sake.

The Blizzard of ’78 will always be among the top stories in my news biz career. It needs no embellishment. The facts and the pictures tell it all.

One more thing. It needs no hype or hysteria.