ROBERT RICHARDSON
ROBERT RICHARDSON
PSU BLACK STUDIES, WINTER 2024
THE 8
If NE Portland is the heart …
The 8's route is like an artery,
That continuously pumps warm, thick blood
Through its prettiest and most precious parts.
The people being the richly cross contaminated blood
Of many types,
Yet still so unbelievably pure.
Like sweet nectar dripping down
The big beautiful trees that endlessly grow within.
Monday through Saturday, it beats every 5-10.
On Sundays?! It's more like 15 plus.
Crazy. Who thought a pulse with so much purpose,
Could come in the form of a bus?
From haircuts on 16th n' Kill
To long cold nights hustlin in Holiday Park
Foster homes on Ainsworth and Dekum
Those lonely nights used to feel so dark.
But the digital lights moving across top
Of the 8's windshield illuminated my nights,
Sitting in the back of the bus
Warm air blowing feels so right.
Society and security, for me was
THE 8.
3037
3037,
My childhood home
Once a dark ashy grey my mother hated
Now golden yellow and beige w/ dark blue trim
The same cracks in the steps I ran up as a kid
Weeds I once pulled, stubbornly grown back as if
They never left
Jealous to know they're still there and I'm not
Countless memories of joy and pain, love
And belonging
Returning to this place would mean liberation
Me and my siblings holding hands
While we smile, reminisce and remember
3037
Four #s I could never forget
Hoping they set me free by
3037
The 8
The 8 …
To me is like a vein that pumps blood through the heart of NE Portland. Growing up as a kid anywhere the 8 went between Lloyd Center and Woodlawn Park was my world, from there we would walk just about everywhere. The closest bus stop only two blocks from my childhood home, going to explore the world always started with the 8. Looking beyond this bus stop into Holliday Park, I’m reminded of all the good and bad things that once happened there. How much it has changed since I was first introduced. The ROAD CLOSED signs symbolizing that symbolizing what I once knew, simply no longer exists. But I bet the same trees still stand tall and the 8 continues to pump the same blood that gave me so much life as a kid into everything its route touches, most importantly the people who ride it. I remember Fridays, riding one way to get a fresh cut on 16th and Kill, only to get back on going the opposite in hopes that Lloyd Center and Holliday were still poppin and something and had something to offer my young restless soul. Life was so simple then, yet I never failed at finding ways to complicate it.
The 8 ...
Whenever I saw the headlights and digital display come into view after a long, cold, rainy night I always felt a strong sense of relief knowing home, safety and security were soon to come.
3037
3037, four numbers I could never forget. A yellow and beige, two story home with dark blue trim. The same exact colors my mother and uncle painted over 20 years ago. Before that, it was a dark ashy gray that was peeling all over, kind of like my stepfathers and uncle, a man named Bolden Rush, who came here all the way from a small town in Mississippi. He worked extremely hard and eventually earned enough to purchase the beautiful home in the heart of NE Portland, a home that sheltered and provided so much security to me and my family, driving the best and most memorable moments of my life. Looking up at the steps, I see the exact same cracks and weeds growing beside them that I once pulled as a kid. I’m relieved to see the current owners haven’t changed or fixed a thing at the same time, upset to think they don’t appreciate and value the one place I’d do anything to get back. A place me and my family share countless memories of joy, pain, heartache, and belonging. Returning to this place would mean I have been liberated and set free from a prison sentence of LIFE WITHOUT, I’m sure hoping that day will come…when me and my siblings can stand in the photographer's place, holding hands, with smiles on our face as we reminisce and remember. But for now, this photo will do. 3037, four numbers I could never forget.
A PLACE UNCHANGED
IRVINGTON ELEMENTARY
An amazing, unforgettable place tucked in the heart of the Irvington neighborhood, a historically beautiful location where kids, culture, and comfort feeds a community that is truly like no other l've ever known. I look at this photo as I sit in a prison cell and am transported to a magical, vividly descriptive description wild and I am painfully naive to the cold and cruel ways of the world ... Yet, as I see the cafeteria lights shining bright, the thought of freshly baked cinnamon rolls warm my soul. This dirty mismatched brick and uneven concrete stab are just as I remember, but at the same time, this beautiful place feels so far away and unfamiliar. 20 years ago I attended this school, at a point in my life when I felt a strong connection to my neighborhood and just about everything in it. Ironically, I used to feel so lost and alone, but really, I had it all.
Irvington Elementary ...
To me symbolizes true strength and sustainability. A place unchanged. | RR