This is a test

or . . .

you know you live in a small town when . . . .

I grew up in a small neighborhood surrounded by a big city. There were hundreds of thousands of people living in my city - but I only knew the streets and blocks comprising my neighborhood.

I grew up in "the Bottoms" of Columbus Ohio. Okay, a nickel to the first person who can tell me what area that is - it isn't called that, even jokingly, now. It has a much posher name. But, the streets are the same - the neighborhood is the same - only the name has changed. I love talking to people who say they grew up in the area of Columbus that I did - but who have no clue where "the Bottoms" might be. Hmmmm - I say - are you SURE you didn't grow up in, oh, say Upper Arlington? Yeah, that is almost a swear word to those of us who grew up in "the Bottoms." Upper Arlington was the poshest of the posh - at least that is what we thought.

I grew up surrounded by many different ethnicities - but, oh my, we certainly did not call them that. My family is Irish - Irish Catholic descent. We rubbed shoulders with those of Polish descent and Italian descent. I'm sure there were others nearby, but those I am sure about.

We lived in Holy Family parish - an even smaller community within our community. That is how things went back then. You had "the" church on the main street - the convent right next door - the priest house (rectory) a block away - and the school yet another block over from there. All within walking distance.

Within that smaller parish community was the community of my family - my Dad's family, that is. Mom-Mom, the matriarch lived in a two story house one block further over from the school. Across her back yard lived one of her sons and his family. Across the street lived a daughter and her son and two doors down lived another son and his family. Down the street the other way lived my Mom and my sister and me - from the time I was 13 or so. Before that, when my parents were still together, we lived across the freeway over by two of the other daughters and another son.

We girls could - and did - walk from aunt to aunt on errands or to be babysat. We did a lot of walking then. Mom never drove - never got her license. We walked or rode the city bus. (we even used to have trolley busses in our town - I can remember the sparks that the wires made on contact with the overhead wires. And, oh, how the trolleyman used to get disgusted with the youngsters who would toss snowballs at the trolley to knock the wires loose, thuse causing a loss of power. (but I was a small girl when all that happened)

Mom walked to her job at the nearby hospital laundry five days every week - she walked back and forth to work, no matter the weather, and no matter how tired she was after a long day of extremely hot work. I know that my sister and I took her for granted - well, I guess I should only speak for myself. I feel badly that I never thanked her properly for her years of sacrifice for our little family.

Sis and I walked to school every day when we were in grade school. When we got to the ninth grade and attended high school, we had to ride the city bus - after walking three blocks away to catch the right one - we rode it to the end of the line (or very near) and then had to walk another three blocks or so to the school. We were in pretty darned good shape - for the shape we were in.

Communities within communities within the larger whole of a thriving city. All traversed with a sense of safety - a sense of family - a sense of being "home".

I think of that sometimes when I jump into the car to drive a block and a half away. I miss those sweet and innocent times. It is a fact of life that those times have to go behind us, but it is bittersweet, those memories.

Night all

Posted by Purplemoose at August 9, 2004 10:35 PM