Wednesday, March 25, 2015
2- Allen Avenue
Here we are at 199 Allen Avenue. We lived on the second floor, just the three of us. My years as a toddler were contained here. I really started making deposits in the memory bank in this two-decker. Dad was a salesman for Fuller Brush, and Mom worked part time as a waitress at a couple of Congress Street restaurants. This put this young whipper-snapper in the able hands of my grandparents serving as babysitters. I can remember having lots of fun turning the furniture upside down and with the help of blankets making little hideouts. We also played 'dress-up', where Nana Josie would dress me up with all sorts of odd ball combinations of clothes and snap pictures. This is the apartment where the classic shot of me covered head to foot in Grampa's over-sized clothes was taken. She called me her little Yankee Traveler, as I was draggin' an old suitcase around the livingroom too. I made my first friend while living here. Next door lived Billy H. We spent countless hours playing together, especially taking turns in his red pedal car. How I loved that contraption! Now, Allen Avenue was a main drag even back then, so Mom took precautions. She put me in some sort of harness mechanism and tied my to a swing set pole. Somewhere there is an actual photo that proves that deal was done. I wouldn't get away from there. Peter, a year older, had free range of the yard. I was tied down to restrict my movement. Like I'd get into any mischief. Right? Two houses down lived Sharon, my first real babysitter. She was in high school, and I fell in love. My first girlfriend?
Dad bought his first new car while we lived here.
At least that's what he told me.
A black (weren't they all black) Buick.
While in the driveway, I'd sit behind the wheel and pretend to drive all over.
He parked it in that barn at night.
I wanted to investigate that structure.
Never got the chance.
Well, I can't remember ever getting in anyway.
I think I might have remembered that occurrence.