Walking to Philly

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Walking to Philly

By Jen Ancker

Walking to Philadelphia.

IS IT POSSIBLE FOR a city to be in your DNA? Both of my parents were born and raised in Philadelphia. The same goes for their parents. By the time I came around, my parents and most of the family had moved to South Jersey. Still, the city has always had a hold on me.

When I was a kid, my grandparents would take me to the Italian Market. When my grandmother wanted sausage, the shopkeeper went to the sausage spool and unrolled the meat like a hose. Do you want an arm’s length of links? Two? Then it would be off to Di Bruno Brothers. Everyone knows Di Bruno’s now, but it’s hard to tell when you’re ten and haven’t been exposed to the Internet that you’re going to a famous shop. This was just the place where we got cheese. Oh, the cheese at Di Bruno’s! I don’t need to tell you about the cheese. My grandfather always made sure I got the prosciutto di Parma, too, even though my mother would make a fuss when we got home because it was so expensive. We’d walk around, and my grandfather would share stories from his childhood…like when my great grandmother used to pick out live chickens, and they’d take them in the back and return in a few minutes with the meat. Surprisingly, this didn’t kill my appetite. We’d go right to Termini Brothers Bakery to pick out dessert for later. And for right away. In my mind, Termini’s is like Willy Wonka for pastry. (Sure you’ve had the cannolis, but you have to try the tea biscuits. I’ve tried for years to recreate that recipe and come up short every time.)

Oh, we weren’t done. My family has a sweet tooth, you see. We

can’t get enough. The last stop was always to get water ice. NOT Italian ice. If I ever said Italian ice, I think my family would shun me. They already tolerate me having a nontraditional favorite flavor, chocolate.

All through my childhood, it seemed like whenever my parents took me to do something local that was fun, it was in Philly: sports, concerts, museums, restaurants, Philadelphia had it all. It seemed surprising that tourists came to see Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell because I took them for granted.

Then I put a camera in my hand, and I began to appreciate the beauty of the city. It has been said before, but it’s true—photography makes us stop and really see our surroundings and take a fresh look at things that have been there all along.

When my father mentioned that there was a walkway along the Ben Franklin Bridge, we had to go there. How did I not know about this? As many times as I had gone over that bridge, I never imagined you could walk along it. He had the patience to take me there and wait around while I fiddled with the camera and walked back and forth between Philadelphia and New Jersey.

Some of my favorite photos that I’ve taken of the city are from the outside looking in, like when I was walking on the bridge. I suppose that has always been my relationship with Philly. My grandparents and parents were Philadelphians, but I never was. And even though I’ve moved to the Lehigh Valley, with its own exceptional beauty, Philadelphia will always be special to me. n

Find Jen Ancker’s photographs at jlphotographs.com.