When I grew up, life was different. I lived in North St. Louis, what was known as Walnut Park. It was a community of middle class families. It was a safe neighborhood where neighbors knew neighbors and watched out for others.
We played ball in the streets, frequently interrupted by passing cars. The drivers never seemed annoyed by us or our street activities, maybe because they were our neighbors. They saw us everyday and were never surprised to see kids running around the streets. Hide and seek, dodge ball and spud were a few of the other street games we played.
Friday nights were usually spent at the RIO show, down the street from Lombardo’ restaurant. Most of the time the movie playing was not as important as meeting up with your friends. After the show we walked home, actually we walked everywhere. Most families had only one car, so dropping you off at your friends house was a rare occurrence.
City kids in those days traveled the alleys to their destination. It didn’t matter that it was 10 pm and you were just returning from a scary movie. Alleys were shortcuts and we were used to them. Also, it wasn’t unusual to jump a few fences to cut through a yard. We knew where the dogs lived, but I always walked a little faster when passing an ash pit. Who knows what might be hiding in an ash pit?
The old neighborhood is different now. I hear about it all the time on the evening news. The street names mentioned are always familiar, I’ve been on many of them when I was younger, but now there is a danger there that I never experienced.
We weren’t rich or poor but our memories of those times make me smile. It’s different these days, so my memories will be different than my kids and vastly different for my year and a half old granddaughter. I just hope their memories are as pleasant as mine when they reminisce about their childhood. I hope they remember the adventures they had instead of their video games.
“Just Saying . . .”
We played ball in the streets, frequently interrupted by passing cars. The drivers never seemed annoyed by us or our street activities, maybe because they were our neighbors. They saw us everyday and were never surprised to see kids running around the streets. Hide and seek, dodge ball and spud were a few of the other street games we played.
Friday nights were usually spent at the RIO show, down the street from Lombardo’ restaurant. Most of the time the movie playing was not as important as meeting up with your friends. After the show we walked home, actually we walked everywhere. Most families had only one car, so dropping you off at your friends house was a rare occurrence.
City kids in those days traveled the alleys to their destination. It didn’t matter that it was 10 pm and you were just returning from a scary movie. Alleys were shortcuts and we were used to them. Also, it wasn’t unusual to jump a few fences to cut through a yard. We knew where the dogs lived, but I always walked a little faster when passing an ash pit. Who knows what might be hiding in an ash pit?
The old neighborhood is different now. I hear about it all the time on the evening news. The street names mentioned are always familiar, I’ve been on many of them when I was younger, but now there is a danger there that I never experienced.
We weren’t rich or poor but our memories of those times make me smile. It’s different these days, so my memories will be different than my kids and vastly different for my year and a half old granddaughter. I just hope their memories are as pleasant as mine when they reminisce about their childhood. I hope they remember the adventures they had instead of their video games.
“Just Saying . . .”
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