Many incoming Hopkins students are not natives of Baltimore and, unfortunately, don't know much about the city they now call home for seven months out of the year.
Most have seen the prerequisite Inner Harbor and Camden Yards, but apart from that, the farthest they've gone into the city is the occasional trek to Sig Ep on a Friday night. All too often, they're left with questions like: What is Baltimore all about? Who are the people who live here?
Trying to answer these questions, this reporter seized upon the opportunity to discover Druid Hill Park -- the largest park in Baltimore and the namesake for the 90s R&B group Dru Hill.
The park tends to elicit a wide variety of reactions. One student said he would ride his bike there. A few upperclassmen told me it was beautiful, a must-see.
But then there was another view as well: Druid Hill Park is the crack park; don't go there by yourself; don't go there at night. With such conflicting views, it's easy to not know what to expect.
For all its reputation, the park has a vibrant history. Druid Hill Park was created as part of the push for urban parks in the 19th century (work on New York's more well-known Central Park began in 1858).
The city of Baltimore purchased the Druid Hill estate in 1860 with revenue generated by city taxes and created a haven in the middle of a bustling city. The park is filled with rolling hills and stately trees, as well as baseball fields, tennis courts and swing sets inviting the company and laughter of city residents.
The designers of the park tried to leave as much of the natural beauty intact as possible while creating a refuge for urban dwellers. Thus the home of Lloyd Rogers, the man who sold the estate to the city, still sits atop the hill where it sat for centuries as miles of carriage and bike paths curve around it.
The lake remains the largest earthen dammed lake in the country (one of Baltimore's many claims to fame), and the statues of Christopher Columbus and George Washington are widely known.
Everything about the park speaks to its history and to its age. Walking around the park tends to make the visitor feel like they have been transported back in time. The black-gated walk circling the Druid Hill reservoir seems empty without women strolling in their lace dresses, parasols in hand.
The faded gazebos, once painted vibrantly, cry out for picnics and children climbing on them. The Mansion House, which once housed the owners of the estate but now houses security and administration for the park, shines with yellow paint and white detailing that looks like it belongs on the set of Gone With the Wind. Everything emanates a kind of dated beauty that is only visible to those who take the time to appreciate it.
That's not to say that the park still isn't a thriving part of Baltimore life. The Maryland Zoo sits in the center, continuously offering new exhibits, such as Parakeet Landing, a 1500-square foot aviary open every summer. People still picnic and play tennis, and it's not uncommon to hear the beat of the music from small gatherings come floating over the air.
The park hosts a variety of events throughout the year. Haviz Adeogo, the permits officer for all Baltimore city parks, is in charge of issuing permits for whatever events people want to hold in the park. For a small fee, you can obtain permission to host anything from a family reunion to a sports game to a festival such as the annual Caribbean Festival. Adeogo is also in charge of regulating the Stonesoul Picnic, which takes place every August in the park.
"It's our biggest event of the year," Adeogo said. "There are vendors and food, as well as popular music artists. Last year, Toni Braxton played and over 3000 people came to Druid Hill." For residents, this park is a vital part of their city.
Still, looking out over the lake, watching the ducks float across the water, a statue of William Wallace standing proudly nearby, it's easy to forget that you're in the heart of Baltimore.
Yet even amid all the history, you are never completely divorced from the present.
All it takes to bring the visitor back to the reality of the city are the cars blasting rap and the cell towers that rise nearby. Druid Hill Park is pulsating with the feel of Baltimore, both past and present, and offers any visitor a glimpse into the city's heart.
