4 Articles
4 Articles


Lent’s passing evokes whiffs of fish-filled Baltimore kitchens
My late father, Joe Kelly, told a story about today, Holy Saturday. As a boy growing up on Poultney Street in what was then a distinctly non-Federal Hill — the neighborhood was just South Baltimore. An ace at Latin and Greek, he was a dutiful altar server, or acolyte, at Holy Cross Catholic Church on West Street, not far from the Cross Street Market. It fell to him to assist the priests at the rather involved and lengthy services on this day (th…
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