But if we might only linger...
I've been out of this house just about 48 years. That alone is an amazing fact of life. The summer before I entered the third grade we moved here to 820 Stevens Avenue. We lived here until I entered my sophomore year in high school. These were the days my friend. Yesterday's house was something, but if these walls could talk what fabulous stories they would tell. The baseball diamond in the backyard, endless bike rides, hanging on the Nelson's porch, working at Edna's, sledding on ice well after 9PM, hockey games on the kitchen table, discovering the fair gender, kissing hide-and-go-seek, initiations into the Skeleton Club, late night 'runs' through the cemetery, the Beatles on Ed Sullivan, night basketball games in the driveway, playing army, tenting out mischief, riding out a hurricane in our tree fort and on and on and on... But the best part, the most important parts were the faces I saw most on a daily basis. Adventure, adventure, and more adventures off into the twilight. There was Teddy, Susan, Eddie, Leo, Kim, Jill, Lynn, Judd, Judy, Brenda, Billy, Linda, Marty, Connie, Joanne, Cheryl, Scotty, Alana, George, David, Paul, Bobby, Lois, Buddy, Skipper, another George, me, and I've probably forgotten a couple.
Some people, places and things we NEVER forget.
Mention one of the names and so many wonderful memories come to mind.
We were so lucky to have found each other.
What a life we had.
And the music, the soundtrack...
I wouldn't trade in that experience.
Those truly were the days...
*Look a basketball hoop is still up. Really, the only thing missing is the wonderful wrap-around front porch. It was a beauty. My bedroom, second floor on right. I had a great view of all happening at the Corner.
Basketball hoops remain forever, like memories!
ReplyDeleteThis is what I picture when I think of a New England house.
ReplyDeleteI would like to remember just a quarter as much as you do Birdman..I can imagine how nice this lovely house would have been with it's verandah , wonder why it was taken away.
ReplyDeleteLate night runs through the cemetery, huh?
ReplyDeleteThat house definitely needs a verandah! This has been a great tour so far.
ReplyDeleteAh yes, the place where childhood memories are made. I didn't do any late night cemetery runs but just about everything else rings true.
ReplyDeleteI am quite glad to know that someone else did late night runs through a cemetery...
ReplyDeleteYou've got a good memory, Birdman, to recall all those names.
ReplyDeletesweet...
ReplyDeleteYou lived in many places , always in the same town, THAT sounds strange to me ..
ReplyDeleteYes.
DeleteYou really are walking down memory lane!
ReplyDeleteAnd what a soundtrack! On Ed Sullivan it ran from Elvis to the Beatles for me.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful series of houses and stories, Mr. Bird. I can remember a place we walked when I was about three and remember my next younger sister's homecoming. Rats, I thought that I was going to be an only child! (Then, they had four more!!)
ReplyDeleteNice memories you have stoked.
Nice post.
ReplyDeleteSuch a wise wise post my friend
ReplyDeleteALOHA from Honolulu
ComfortSpiral
=^..^=
Great memories. The house we lived in in Utah, I remember all the kids in the neighborhood, and the all the games we played on the street and the adventures we went on that my parents never knew about.
ReplyDeleteToo bad the porch is gone. . . but wow! How great to have that many friends nearby . . .
ReplyDeletePlaces make memories and then contain them. I have mine of 4109 41st. Street Sunnyside, Queens, Apartment 4C, and 488 Eastgate Road, Ridgewood, New Jersey. My kids' place memories are shifted westward.
ReplyDeletenice memories
ReplyDelete