What could be more full of life, zest and nitrates than a hot dog shop in summer? Conversely, what could more poignant than an out-of-business hot dog shop in the dead of winter?

“Greater New Hope Baptist Church/Reverend M.E. Jones.” Jesus, it’s like something you might come across in a small, high-desert town in New Mexico. Pittsburgh is full of surprises. Rather: Pittsburgh is good at surprising me. And more astonishing than how the city has changed in the 25 years I was away is what I missed when I grew up here. Like Hazelwood. Sure, I’d heard of Hazelwood before — but I couldn’t have found it on a map. I found the place itself last year, quite by accident: I drove to the top of Squirrel Hill, and then went down the other side. Simple. But, see, I’d never done that before. I’d been to the top of Squirrel Hill. But never down the other side. Maybe that’s the motto for my return: “Down the Other Side!” Could someone could translate that into Latin for me? I’m not entirely joking.

I’ve read that Hazelwood takes its name from the hazelnut trees which once flourished along the Monongahela. That the first settlers were of Scottish descent, and so the area was once known as “Scotch Bottom.” (As a Scot who has a couple of inelegant Scotch Bottoms to his credit, I’ll just say I prefer “Hazelwood.”) It began as Indian land, and then became American farmland. And then became steel mills. Now it is trying to become something else, but without the inevitability of Manifest Destiny or Manufacturing. So much more difficult a transformation!