This story I am going to share with you happened when I was about four going on five, or thereabouts. What astounds me when I look back is how powerful those moments were, and how my life's lessons were already forming and formed at such an early age. My parents exposed us to life; we were allowed to play on the sidewalks, on the street. I took it all in from a very early age, and looking back, I was very fortunate to be raised in an ethnically diverse neighborhood.
In the early to mid-1950's my parents both had jobs as they raised three children. I was the youngest child at the time of this story. To look at me in play was to see a typical grubby kid, no shoes, dirty feet, stuck mostly in little dresses as I played in a small patch of dirt called a yard at 366 Columbia Street. From the corner of Columbia running up toward State Street were apartment row houses, painted gray. They were nice looking buildings, side by side, that ran to the alley, and there was a 'gangway' between the buildings that led in to our little backyard. This story I am going to share with you happened when I was about four going on five, or thereabouts. What astounds me when I look back is how powerful those moments were, and how my life's lessons were already forming and formed at such an early age. My parents exposed us to life; we were allowed to play on the sidewalks, on the street. I took it all in from a very early age, and looking back, I was very fortunate to be raised in an ethnically diverse neighborhood.
7 Comments
7/7/2015 05:12:06 am
I'd like to add, that the row houses ran up to a home where a playmate lived in their space, the Greners. The row houses DID NOT go all the way up to the alley. I think the Greners were the house closest to the alley in those years...or at the least closer than the row houses.
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Mary
7/7/2015 09:19:09 am
I could picture all of it! Thanks for writing! :)
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7/7/2015 09:42:55 am
Mary, thank you for stopping in and reading my work. It is appreciated. ;)
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Roberta Villanova Nunn
7/7/2015 10:57:36 pm
Very powerful story.
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7/10/2015 12:32:39 am
Thank you, Roberta. Hudson, in both family, and other people, piled the lessons on down through the years...as it did for most of us. Good seeing you! You are a sweet and fine memory... especially your smile.
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jean schild
7/9/2015 02:14:09 am
Sorry you both had to experience this. Well written
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7/10/2015 12:34:57 am
Thank you for knowing 'all' the parts of me, the deeper parts of me. I met some fine people in Hudson, like her... and then some not so fine... as we all have.
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