Some stories don't make the headlines. Some stories aren't told at all. But that doesn't mean they are lost.
Look at Buffalo. Literally. Look at it. The city is like a cake, filled and layered with history, in which the most impactful parts of the recipe aren't written down. You can look at something, and if you've been around long enough, you already know the story behind it. When you share that story, that's how history gets passed down. Much like it was to you.
What We See, What We Overlook
Walking around the East Side of Buffalo, across the street from my old elementary school, Makowski School #99, is Johnnie B. Wiley Stadium. It's a grey pavilion with a football and soccer field, track, basketball courts, and a playground. I only learned later in life that this stadium was home to the Buffalo Bills in 1960 when it was called War Memorial Stadium. That is a well-known hidden story of Buffalo.
One that may not be as well-known is the Michigan Street Baptist Church is a former underground railroad site and an important landmark in African American History. That landmark is right here in Buffalo.
It’s one of the many pieces of history that we walk past every day without knowing the story behind them. Think of the buildings we drive by, the people we walk by, the art that we walk by. There’s a story behind it that could lend a hand in telling the story of Buffalo. Public media, murals, and oral traditions help uncover these hidden threads. One of my favorite things to do is listening to a story from an elder. There is just something about hearing what is mostly a first-hand experience. It brings history to life and breathes life into what otherwise could’ve been forgotten.
The Power of Remembering
Memory is a funny thing, especially when it comes to history. We have tools to preserve memory: books, newspapers, and yes, even blogs. But what we remember can grow foggy. Some stories get buried over time. And others? We bury them on purpose. Because not all history is golden rays of sunshine wrapped in ribbons—some of it is wrapped in thorns, pricking us so we don’t forget.
Remembering is an act of justice.
To recall the stories of other cultures and communities is to carve the unwritten into stone. To say: you were here, and your story matters. There’s empathy in that kind of remembering. As the jazz legend Lionel Hampton once said, “Gratitude is when memory is stored in the heart and not in the mind.”
That quote reminds me of how I tell stories to friends and family—not always for accuracy, but for feeling. We recite memories not just from the mind but from the moment. Like when we watch the movie Up—we know the sad part is coming, not because we recall every line, but because we remember how it made us feel.
Why It Matters Now
As we look at today and the community around us, it matters that we know who built these neighborhoods and fought for us behind the scenes. It’s a reminder that a lot of what we have around us was given to us. When we remember those stories, we continue to tell the story of this community and this city. And we would want the future generations to do the same for us.
Stories told by Buffalo Toronto Public Media have restored many hidden histories. It’s the underlying mission of public media, to spotlight community voices, educate and enlighten, and revive what is sometimes buried.
Look around your neighborhoods and communities. What history might be living on your street? Share it with us!