We lived at 4 Willis Terrace, in a big, 3 story house. We occupied the top floor, and 2 girls, teenagers, I think lived on the 2cnd floor. They used to play that old song that I never have been able to say right...I always thought it was, 'My dear Mr. Shane", but I now know that isn't right; think it's in German or some other foreign language . Anyway, those girls played it often, and loud, but I liked it .
Well, just spoke to my sister Anne, and she disputes my memory of where Paul was born. She says he was born on Washington St. I have no memory of that, so I'm sticking to the one I do have.
That house on Willis Terrace must have been a six unit affair, and those girls must have lived on the 2cnd floor on the other side, because Anne said the German family, Mr. and Mr. Berbleis lived on the 2cnd floor on our side of the building. Well, anyway, this was a very sweet couple. They had a teenage son, Emil, who, at some point, climbed up on the roof, and fell to his death. Before that happened, tho', Phyllis and I used to go to their flat to visit them. They had one whole room full of birds in cages...canaries, finches, parakeets, and cockatiels. They must have been selling them, I guess. They made their own wine, and would give Phyllis and me a teeny, tiny taste whenever we visited. It was good, too, maybe elderberry.
That house wasn't far from our church, and we also had a big courthouse nearby. On Mothers' Day, we would see a lot of men wearing carnations for their Moms, red or white, I think, for whether their mothers were alive or passed on. I forget which was which. I think all those men were from our church, all dressed up in suits. In those days, gentlemen wore suits and ladies wore dresses with hats and gloves on Sundays. Since I was only 3, someone dressed me, and themselves, and off we 4 girls would go, to church and Sunday school. We would put on our choir robes and get into position up in the choir loft, with our hymnals, all ready to sing for the Sunday service. I absolutely loved singing the hymns, and think my sisters did, too. We all had good voices then. The choir conductor was Marie Iletson , and she was so nice. She even taught me to play 'I love coffee, I love tea', on the piano there. It was just a little ditty that kids sang back then.
While we lived there at Willis Terrace, I had a Kiddie Kar, that had 2 wheels only, and moved when I used my feet to push it along. It was made of wood, and painted. I think, yellow. anyway, I loved that thing. I was only allowed to go a short distance, tho' . but that was ok, b/c my little legs got tired from all that exertion .
There was a library not too far from home, and either Phyllis and Betty, or Anne and Phyllis would take me there, and sometimes strap me into the wooden seat of a swing set that was outside in the back of Norfolk Library, and one of the girls would stay and swing me, while the other one would go inside and get books . The little swing seat was painted green, and had a wooden tray thing across the front to keep kids from falling out of the swing. I was pretty tiny, so my sisters kept a close eye on me. Oh, yes, it also had a strap that came up between my legs, sort of, like high chairs have to keep babies in the chair. Sometimes, whoever was taking care of me, would let me play in the dirt there, digging and what not. I also, once in a while got to go in and look at books...think I started reading them, too, pretty early, before starting school, at any rate. Have always loved books, reading them, touching them. They have always been special to me.
Later, when I was a little older, Mamma would find me reading when I was supposed to be outside playing.
Anne is the one who taught me reverence for books. She told me to treat them right, using bookmarks to mark my place, rather than turn down the corners of a page, because after a time, the corner would become brittle, and tear off, or leave the book open and upside down, because that could hurt the spine of the book and would ruin it.
Sometime later, when I was probably 5, we moved to 24 Dewey St. It was at the bottom of a hilly street. We were in the last house on the left, on the bottom floor, again a 3-story edifice. Most of the flats in Roxbury were in 3 story buildings, except for those that housed six families.
I'd already been in kindergarten, where we had graham crackers and either milk or water, before nap time. Oh, how I loved school ! It was mostly playing, coloring, and sitting in those tiny chairs, singing with the teacher. I loved that !
Then, at Dewey St, I went to John Winthrop elementary, on the cross street that ran along the
bottom of Dewey . I forget the name of that street, tho'. At the top of Dewey St. there
was Blue Hill Ave. running parallel to the street with my school on it.
On the second floor, there was an Italian family, and 2 of the sons, Tony, and another one were ice-men, and they delivered ice in a truck. Well, when I was 6 years old, I had either pneumonia or needed my appendix out, don't know for sure which, and those two boys took me in their ice-truck, wrapped in a blanket that Mamma had wrapped around me, to the hospital, Boston city Hospital, same one I had been born in. That was in the middle of the night, and there was no room for Mamma in the cab of their truck, so she got there later.
Well, whatever had been wrong with me must not have been serious, because I didn't stay long, maybe a day or two, if that.
My best friend there on Dewey St. was a boy who lived on the top floor, Sonny Spring. He and I got along really well. He built a scooter, which was just an orange or apple crate, with a short 2 x 4 attached to the bottom, and 4 wheels from a roller skate nailed onto the bottom. He would have me sit on the part where his foot went, and give me rides all over our neighborhood. That was great fun !
While living there, we had some kind of weather catastrophe, in 1938. I've always thought it was a blizzard, but Anne said today that it was a hurricane, and that the blizzard happened later when we lived on Blue Hill Ave. think I'll leave it at that, and look it up, and write more another day.
It's been fun, writing down my memories, re-living them. I'll write more soon, and hope you're still enjoying my childhood escapades !
Start writing down your own childhood memories, so that your children and grandchildren have some sense of what things were like during your childhood .
Until next time,
D
I don't remember you ever telling me that you sang in the church choir! I remember The Good Ship Lollipop story, though.
ReplyDeleteKeep writing, Mom. I love reading your memories.