I came to Tulsa because I wanted to walk Greenwood for myself. I stayed long enough for one question to lead to another, from Black Wall Street to Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan, from oil wealth and Art Deco to Route 66 and the stories a city chooses to remember.
Greenwood Rising, Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan, read together. A story about memory, conscience and what survives when truth becomes negotiable.
Museums, streets, music, architecture and the things that sent me down another path.
Walking the streets of Black Wall Street, and the distance between a number in a chronology and a place you can cross on foot.
At the Bob Dylan Center and the Woody Guthrie Center, the finished songs were less interesting to me than the crossed-out words that came before them.
An afternoon inside Waite Phillips' Italian Renaissance villa and the gardens surrounding it.
Some landmarks explain themselves. Others make you wonder what a city once wanted the world to know about it. Tulsa's enormous oil worker belongs firmly in the second category.
Downtown Tulsa has another city beneath it. Tunnels connect buildings created during the oil boom, remnants of the money that helped shape the skyline above.
Route 66 cuts through Tulsa, surrounded by the iconography of an America forever packing the car and heading somewhere else.
A visual notebook from three weeks walking the city.
