May 2026
In the early 1990s, when I lived in the Back Bay and worked downtown in the financial district, I walked to work most every day. My route took me down the Commonwealth Avenue mall, through the Public Garden and across the Common to Filene’s Basements and the streets of the financial district. Whatever the season, I enjoyed the walk. Even in winter, the tree shapes were beautiful. One May morning, when the Public Garden’s flowers were newly bloomed, I took pictures. When I got to work, I sent the pictures to everyone in the legal department with the subject line “Urban Greenery.”
I assumed my colleagues would be excited by the sight of spring flowers. Some were, but not all. One lawyer replied, with a copy to everyone, about being excited by sunlight slanting across sawdust on a bar room floor. That got laughs, even from me. But, much as I enjoy a cold beer, I think the sight of flowers in the middle of the city is more special than sawdust.
Thirty years later, the Public Garden at this time of year remains, in my opinion, the epitome of Boston urban greenery. It also reminds of my first Mother’s Day, in May 1992. My mother and I took my four-month-old son for a walk through the Garden, then to lunch at what was then the Ritz Bar, overlooking Arlington Street. (Photo below.)
When we walked into the bar with a stroller, the maître d’ gave me a funny look. I assured him the baby would be good and, if he made any noise, I would take him outside. We took seats near the window and my son, content with a pacifier and a bottle, disturbed no one. A year later, the three of us went to Concord for a picnic to celebrate Mother’s Day, the last one my mother would have.
My mother died long before I started work on my first book. Had she lived, I know she would have been an enthusiastic supporter. For Christmas one year, she gave me this book by Shaun O’Connell about Boston area writers. She hoped, I think, to inspire me.
(formerly the Ritz bar)
When I was in junior high school, she encouraged me to write for the school paper. The piece of writing I remember best was about Robert McNamara’s visit to Harvard in 1966, when he was U.S. Secretary of Defense. Students opposed to the Vietnam War blocked his car’s path, rendering him unable to leave campus until rescued by police.
My mother and I had many discussions about the students’ First Amendment rights and McNamara’s right not to be held captive. In my many drafts of the article, I tried to balance these two points and weave them together in a sensible way. My father, a lawyer, probably weighed in but the conversations with my mother are what I remember best. As Mother’s Day approaches, so many memories make me say, “Thanks, Mom.”
* * *
On May 14, we will enjoy the last Booklab of the season discussing The Scoundrel’s Son, a work of historical fiction that picks up where Mark Twain’s The Prince and the Pauper left off. Fred Fahey, the author, has offered to provide signed copies of his book in advance – let me know if you’d like to get a copy now. Booklab will resume in the fall and I’ll tell you about next season’s schedule in a later newsletter.
As you may remember, in April I was invited to give a book talk to the Yale University Women’s Organization. YUWO began as a club for faculty wives back when women were practically never members of a college faculty. Now it is a dynamic group of highly accomplished women from a variety of professions.
The invitation came shortly after I had written a blurb for Amy Mittelman’s new book, Dames, Dishes and Degrees. The book is about faculty wives clubs, their history and evolution, something I could see for myself at Yale. The universe, it seems, had pulled together different parts of my life in a most interesting way. On June 16, Amy will launch her book at an event at Amherst Books on Main Street in Amherst, Massachusetts. If you’re in the area, please stop in and say hello.
* * *
If you have a friend who would be interested in my work, please forward this newsletter to your friend. Anyone can subscribe to keep up with the latest news, and to stay in touch. Just visit my website and sign up on the newsletter page. https://kathleencstone.com
