I won’t go into the gory details of Father’s reaction after I told him about New York, but when he finally realized he couldn’t stop me, he decided he’d rather help than “throw me to the wolves.” Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be grateful for his asking the pastor about Christian rooming establishments, but Katharine House is nicer than any hotel I’d have been able to afford, and being around other gals who are also new to the city feels a little less like living with strangers. The only problem is that the quiet girl with bangs who sat in the back row of Camera Club has followed me here. There are days I don’t say more than five words between getting out of bed and returning to my room at the end of the day. Luckily, I’ve got my pictures. I’m taking rolls and rolls of them, and though I haven’t developed any yet (the basic amenities here don’t include a darkroom), I can see so many of them in my mind that they supply their own sort of company.

2. Young woman with suitcase in the Port Authority Bus Terminal, New York, 1953

Not Lillian. Compare it to the girl in the Camera Club photo and you’ll see that Young Woman’s nose is too pointy and the hair is too dark, not to mention that the body is all wrong, but I think Lillian still saw herself in the person stepping off that bus. Why? Because even though the station around Young Woman is a big, busy blur, she doesn’t seem lost or even alone. One look at her face and you can tell she’s exactly where she wants to be.

LETTER TO SAM DECKER, JUNE 1953: It’s silly, but back at home wearing a shirt and coat of Father’s on my Saturday photography walks somehow gave me a kind of permission and made me feel less conspicuous. I intended to leave those clothes behind, but in the end I couldn’t imagine stalking New York without my usual camouflage. Every time I put them on, I feel a twinge of guilt, followed by a trace of comfort.

So far I’ve kept almost completely to the bus station: it’s something to do with all those suitcases, and all the faces to whom those suitcases belong. There are so many ways to greet a city! Some people look as if they’re waiting for someone, but if you keep watching, you’ll see that they’re not disappointed when no one comes. That’s because they’re waiting for the city to meet them, and it always does.

3. Breakfast at Katharine House, New York, 1953