A wave of nostalgia washes over me whenever I see Hatoff’s gas station in Jamaica Plain. As you take a right onto the adjacent street you discover an apartment complex – unseen to the rest of the gentrification — and as I enter the parking lot of the Rockvale apartment complex, little to nothing has changed.
That’s a good thing. Neighbors that have watched me grow up wave, and the rock that my cousins and I used to play Pokémon on still stands. My grandmother lives here, and with that, it’s my second home. Her best friend and neighbor’s cooking fills the halls with the smell of her delicious food. This place and its people have raised me; being here feels like a visit to the past.
Jamaica Plain’s growing economic value cannot be a detriment to these people. I can only hope and pray for those who live here to keep their beloved homes and memories.
Playing pretend
Marshmallows
