We are drawn to some places for their history, beauty, or culture. Others pull us in for reasons that feel more personal - deeply rooted in the stories of those who came before us. Durham, England, is one of those places for me. Just a short day trip from York, where we’re currently staying, Durham is rich with history, its towering cathedral watching over winding streets that have been walked for centuries. But for me, this visit wasn’t just about sightseeing. Durham is where my grandfather - my mom’s father - was born and raised.
Even if Durham had been nothing more than a quiet, forgotten village (which it most certainly is not), I still would have made this journey.
My grandfather was an actor, and as a young man, he left Durham for London, then eventually made his way to New York City, where he met my grandmother. I’ve often written about the powerful experience of walking through European cities and feeling the presence of those who came before us. In Florence, we step over the same cobblestones as Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo. In Athens, we trace the footsteps of Plato and Aristotle. There’s something almost magical about standing where history was made. But this time, as I wandered through Durham, it wasn’t anyone famous I felt connected to - and yet, for me, it was just as meaningful. I realized I was walking the same streets my grandfather once did, back when he was just a boy, long before he ever imagined the life that lay ahead. He was born here in 1888, and somehow, as I moved through the city, I could feel his presence.
I never really knew my other grandfather, my dad’s father - he passed away when I was just five. But my grandfather from England, though I only saw him once or twice a year, had a presence in my life that felt significant. He was British in the most classic sense - always dressed sharply, often in a jacket and bow tie, with a pipe perched between his teeth. He never smoked it around us grandkids, but he kept it in his mouth, packed with cherry-flavored tobacco that carried the most wonderful, familiar scent. To this day, that smell brings back memories of him in an instant. It was a small detail, but one that stayed with me, a sensory link to the man he was.
He had a warmth that drew people in, a natural charm that made time with him special. I remember sitting on his lap, listening to the smooth cadence of his voice, his English accent giving everything he said a certain elegance. He had an easy laugh, a love of storytelling, and an energy that made him someone you simply enjoyed being around. And as I wandered through Durham, those memories felt as vivid as ever. The city itself, with its timeless beauty, seemed to help bring him back to me in a way I hadn’t expected.
Of course, Durham is a stunning place on its own - its breathtaking cathedral, the winding River Wear, the charm of a historic university town. But this visit wasn’t just about seeing the sights; it was about reconnecting with a part of my family history. Walking those old streets, I found myself reflecting on the power of the choices we make - not just in our own lives, but across generations.
My grandfather made a choice to leave Durham, to seek out something new, to take a different path. That one decision led him to my grandmother, and eventually, to the life that made mine possible. Standing there, I couldn’t help but wonder - if he hadn’t left, if he had stayed in Durham, what would my life look like now? Would I even exist? It’s a humbling thought, realizing how much of who we are is shaped not just by our own decisions, but by those made long before we were even born.
It’s easy to recognize how our choices impact our own lives, but this visit to Durham reminded me that the choices of our ancestor’s echo through time in ways we rarely stop to consider. Life is a continuum, a series of moments and decisions that shape not just our own story, but the stories of those who come after us.
Living in the moment is often seen as the key to a meaningful life, and while there’s great wisdom in that, it doesn’t change the fact that every choice we make leaves a lasting imprint. The decisions we make today don’t just shape our own lives - they ripple outward, affecting others in ways we may never fully see or understand. Some of those choices may even shape the lives of people who haven’t been born yet.
Whether we realize it or not, we are part of a much larger story - one that stretches beyond our own time. And so, as Indiana Jones was famously warned while choosing the Holy Grail . . . "Choose Wisely."
A warm, thoughtful and lovely reverie, Simcha. And your photos continue to be a pleasure to behold!