In my blog browsing this morning I noticed that Dina is giving away the new Sonoma Line from Scenic Route - and all I have to do to enter, is tell about the street I grew up on. Easy enough! It's about time I share that here anyway, I figure.
I grew up on Hecla Street (and I apparently type heck a lot because I've had to go back and correct it each and everytime I try to type Hecla. True story) We lived in a big old (old being the key word) house on a corner lot.
Our street was magic. It dawned on me awhile ago, that my memories from this time frame are so vivid, that it often feels like I spent an entire lifetime here, when in fact, it was only eight years. It was when I realized that our Allan has been in this house for ten years and I had the thought - that can't be possible - because there is no way he has as many cool memories of this street as I do of the one that I grew up on.
In the picture there is my main childhood playmate - Danny Zubiena. He won the coveted title by default - there really wasn't anyone else our age on our street until Scott Gipp moved in. Most of the kids were younger - like my brother and sister there.
So Zoob and I spent a lot of time trekking up and down those concrete squares. On foot, on trike bikes, on bicycles and skateboards. And we knew our neighbors - we knew exactly which ones would call home if the frisbee went in their yard, which ones we didn't dare step a foot into, and which ones were good for an afternoon snack or a nice cold sip of water
The first house next to ours belonged to Holmstroms. They were related to us somehow, on my grandmothers side, and I used to enjoy when their granddaughter would come for a visit. Katrina was her name, if I remember correctly. We lost touch awhile ago already.
Mrs. Holmstrom was pleasant and never minded when we set her front porch swing to rocking - but Mr. Holmstrom always seemed a bit more gruff.
That might have been my own doing tho. I used to lean out this window in my bedroom and make noises - trying to get him to look when he was cleaning his garage or working on his car - and then I'd pull my head in real quick. I was a sneaky kid. I'm sure Heidi here had no clue I was photographing her - I probably did this during the days of our Red Hand Spy Club.
The next house after that was what we called - the blue house. For obvious reasons. This was the most entertaining home on our street. We loved when the old gentleman living there was sitting on his enclosed front porch because with just the slightest bit of persuasion - we could get him to stick his Cheetos up his nose. It doesn't get much better than that for a kid. He was always in his pajamas and he always had his white poodle by his side.
The house after that stayed to themselves more - and the next house wished that we would. That house was right next to Zoobs, and they tried and tried and tried to keep us out of their vegetable garden. And we tried to - we really did - we just weren't real good at it.
On the other side of Zoob's lived Ina. Oh - it's sinful probably, but it was great fun to get her riled. She couldn't move real fast and she'd get upset about the silliest things - the kickball went in her yard quite often - and she yelled and hollored awfully colorfully. We'd imitate her while cowering under the back porch steps and we'd giggle until our guts hurt.
It was great.
Did I mention that we had a lot of bars on our street? The bar came right before Pat's market. I remember when Michigan first instituted the 10 cent return on beer and pop bottles. The bars became a boon for us, and having it so conveniently placed right next to the candy store - it just couldn't get any better.
And they knew us well at the candy store. Danny would even grow up to work there as a teenager. Me? I moved south and they were thankful. They were onto me and my manipulative ways.
Our street, being the main drag thru Laurium, was also the parade route. We'd watch from our front porch, we'd watch from the attic, we'd watch from the windows of our hardware store just down the street. When it was the late night Firemen's pajama parade, we'd watch carefully - because you never knew what those drunken pajama clad firemen might do.
It was great.
And then the was the whole other side of the street - Gipps and their taxi service. If I remember correctly, he went on to win some big lottery and sold that taxi service. Karl and Nora lived across the street when they first got married - they enjoyed my company, I know. I was not a pest. At all.
There was the ever entertaining Berryman family, Andy and Heidi, Maggie, the girl kitty corner from us who got fired from babysitting us after nearly clunking Dennis's head on the front post while giving airplane rides (she had the misfortune of my dad catching an eyeful of that one) and of course - Uncle Howard's dry cleaner place, which changed hands many times during those eight years. I remember taking art classes there once.
So many memories. If I went further down the five or six block stretch, I'd come up with so many more. Our family owned hardware store was on this street - where I eventually worked for a dollar an hour. When I was big enough to go further than our block - Tebors became competition for the local Pat's Market. My first bank account was two blocks down, I still have that bank book - and my little $3 and $5 deposits and withdrawals. I felt so big and important going to take care of that business myself.
It was a great place to grow up, to skin my knees and learn to climb trees, to know our neighbors and walk in and out without a knock, to play, to learn, to create and live.
and for the life of me, I can't get typepad to center those last two photos. what's UP with that?