Part II: Finding Wideman's Homewood

I had been paying close attention to the names of the streets in Wideman's books about Homewood. They include Tioga, Susquehanna, Frankstown, Homewood Avenue, Hamilton, Finance, "Dumferline", Braddock Avenue, and last, but by no means least, Cassina Way. On page 113 of my edition of "Hiding Place", there is a passage describing how one would get from here to there traversing some of these streets.

The night before I was to visit Homewood, my dad pulled out a map of Pittsburgh and quickly located Homewood. He recognized some of the streets that had been mentioned in the newspaper spread, and perhaps some others. He had worked at Westinghouse High School, which served the Homewood community, many many years ago. But the newspaper had not mentioned Tioga or Susquehanna or Cassina Way or any of the other streets in Wideman's Homewood. I was not surprised. I was pretty sure that there were two very different Homewoods.

When I had my chance to look at the map, I located Wideman's Homewood, and it was a compact and crowded several blocks. It was with delight and wonder that I located each and every street, streets that are real and do not just exist in some book. Real people live real lives on these streets.

I tried to trace the route described in "Hiding Place" on the map, and realized that things had changed in Homewood since the scene in the description had taken place. A street that was supposed to have "died" at another now went through for several additional blocks. The scene in question had taken place when Wideman's younger brother had been 25 years old. I suppose this brother is in his 50's or late 40's now, which would place this scene in the mid to late 70's.

I carefully planned my approach into Homewood, taking special care to decide ahead of time where I would park. I had planned my visit to be a walking tour. I had deliberately brought my dog Lily because she is a people magnet, and I believed that she would make my presence more tolerable and less awkward for the people I would meet, and for me as well. She would be my ambassador of good will, so to speak.

I would not be taking this map with me, so I drew my own, a tiny subset of a single neighborhood among many in Pittsburgh. I assumed that I would use it as a reference once I got there.

That night, before bed, I carefully laid out the clothing I would wear to Homewood. I did not want to look like I came from where I really come from. I wanted to look a little sloppy; clean, but careless in my dress. I wanted to fit in somehow, although as a Mid-western-looking white person, that would be virtually impossible. The best I could do was a smudged Pirates' T-shirt. The Pirates are the home team; what could be more Pittsburgh?