IF I HADN’T SEEN THE signs for Baltimore, I’d swear we’d driven through some kind of interdimensional portal into a post-apocalyptic hellscape.
With Nate giving directions, Gladys drives us deeper and deeper into the part of the city that the tourist bureau doesn’t highlight—and most people like to pretend doesn't exist. The Inner Harbor’s hotels and restaurants are just blocks to the east of where we’re going today. Helen and I are going to spend our first night as husband and wife together in one of the glass and steel buildings that tower over the glittering downtown.
Where we are now hasn’t glittered in decades. Run-down row houses that should have been torn down years ago, many boarded up with red signs screaming CONDEMNED in big black letters, streets cracked and pot-holed. Childre
