One of the neighborhoods in which Thomas Menino’s funeral procession traveled in route to the church service in Hyde Park was Dudley Square. And before you could glimpse the procession you could hear it, as nearly a dozen police motorcyclists escorting the casket neared the corner of Washington and Melnea Cass Blvd.
Ethnically diverse columns of residents stood in solemn attention like soldiers sending off their general.
But the mayor’s relationship to this neighborhood was far more personal, as we heard in the stories from those who lined up in the wind this day.
There were stories about jobs from Ricky a DPW worker shielding his face from the wind.
“I’m working for him now”
And from Zuma Rosa, a story about how Menino helped her find housing under the most difficult of circumstances.
“Me, I got my housing and everything through Mayor Menino.” “Affordable housing,” I asked?
"Yes, I got my Section 8 in 2006.”
“And do you think that could have happened with other mayors,” I asked.
“I don’t think so. Not with my record. Not with my CORI (Criminal Offender Record Information).”
Expressions of appreciation were linguistically rich, in Mandarin, English, Creole and Spanish. There were dozens of school children here and they hardly knew the man, but they knew he was important. Daisy Lara’s tears were real, her words plain spoken:
"I’m just going to miss him.”
And a few words from some who came close to tears; Teresa Grey, looking up from her wheelchair with eyes that betrayed emotion, said she too will miss Tom Menino:
"I started to cry. I really did. When he went by, I started to tear up. This is a special day that I was able to see this today and I’m, I’m ready to start crying.”
Also among the crowd were artists including Jackie Davis:
“I think and know that he brought such revitalization especially to this Dudley area. I remember Body by brandy down here. And there’s Origination Studios. She’s doing so well. I live in Rhode Island but I remember living here and seeing so many changes in construction in the city and in housing. Lots of positive changes, things like Haley House. It’s as if he were a lifetime mayor and he put his blood his sweat his heart into the entire city."
The procession made its way past Tropicana Market, Boston Gardeners, Haley’s Bakery and Café and The centerpiece of Mayor Menino’s vision for Dudley Square, the Ferdinand; an old-Boston building rehabbed for the 21st century that will be renamed for Bruce Bolling, the city’s first black city council president and an old friend of the mayor’s. He too is no longer with us. Dudley Square exemplifies the power that the mayor had to transform neighborhoods. Poverty is still a major factor in Roxbury, but there is also a thriving middle class here. Robert Brown is part of it. What did Menino mean for him?
“All the work that he’s done in the city. Making Boston a city that’s comparable to New York City and Los Angeles and San Francisco and Chicago. So we’re a major city now. Small in geographic but larger in stature.”
And Menino’s transformation of this area for many is both what is and what many also imagine this area can be. Angela Kelly of the Madison Park development corporation attributes this transformation not simply to one man, but views it as affirmation of the political process, which Menino so feverently believed in.
“I think Mayor Menino made everyone feel like they mattered. They’re community mattered. Their neighborhood mattered. We really feel that here in Dudley Square where we see his legacy in so many revitalization projects and he also reminds us that court vote matters. I heard that Mayor Menino cast an absentee ballot last week (toward the end of October) and I really hope that one way we all honor Mayor Menino’s public service is to get out to the polls and to stay involved in our communities and to continue to work hard to make Boston a better place for everyone.”
And as Menino’s entourage slowly made its way toward Hyde Park for a final goodbye, school children, artists, community organizers, section VIII mothers, middle class folks, former inmates, city workers and tearful fans made their way through Dudley Square past signs that read “ALWAYS our mayor”.
