Last weekend I went up to Michigan to a friend's "Pre-Blessing of the Bikes" party. This is the first time in almost 18 months that I went over a hundred miles or so from home. For someone who owns two touring bikes, this is shameful.
I had been thinking for some time about going to the neighborhood where I lived between the ages of 1 and 12. Since this was sort of on the way and I would be in no real hurry, I decided this was the time.
I left early on Saturday morning as it was getting light. I had enjoyed coffee as I was getting ready, so there was one unavoidable stop as I went headed north. As is usual, I had the roads largely to myself in the morning and the air was crisp and cool. A mid-May heat wave was predicted so the cool temperatures to start were nice.
I got to my old neighborhood after about five hours. I was surprised how close this was to the interstate. It was a little easier traffic flow to start by going to a park I remembered as a kid. I easily found the park, but after parking, I didn't really remember it. It is possible this is because it has changed or because we used a different entrance. Considering it was a really nice Saturday early afternoon by this time, there was surprisingly few people there. The park had a playground and large open grassy areas. There was a large stream or small river running through it that I did remember. Several wooden bridges cross the water. I crossed some of the bridges as a walked around. The wood smelled faintly of creosote, but it was not the intense heated smell I remember (and like). Unfortunately, better sensibilities likely prevent the use in the quantities that it was previously used. I remember playing in the shallows of the water as a kid; the water used to have huge flowing masses of algae in the water that were not there. This could be due to the time of year or just differing water quality and treatment. The 'burbs are not where I would want to live, but the park was pretty nice. I could see how it could be an asset to a nice neighborhood feel.
From there I went down the road to the old neighborhood. I did not see the Krystal Flash gas station where I used to buy fireworks and candy. I've heard of people going home and seeing everything as tiny compared to what they remember. I didn't experience that, but the scale of many things was adjusted. The most striking example of this was my paper route street. I recall this being a laboriously long street with houses separated by large lawns set off the road. In reality, it was a typically suburban neighborhood with small yards and houses packed together. I could still locate my friend Nathan's house. It had (and still does according to Google Earth) a kidney-shaped in-ground pool behind it. It was not the near castle that I recall, just a normal house far closer to the neighbors than I remember.
The one thing which was definitely as long as I recall was the walk from my house to the bus stop. This is far longer than modern sensibilities allow. There was a large group of kids that massed at the Catholic High School. To get there, I had to walk through the neighborhood and through "the field" between the church and the high school down a worn dirt path. The path is gone as is the field, replaced by athletic fields the high school has built. There was a sense of apathetic loss at the lack of the field. The field was a broad, open, sandy, unbuilt area. It was used by kids from all over as a play area. We built sand forts, launched model rockets, had fights and got into all sorts of mischief there - there was a lot of mischief. Of the many places I could have died as a kid, the field ranks up there. Neighbor kids we knew all gathered there at times. Unknown kids from other nearby neighborhoods also went there. Unknown kids were feared until mutual acquaintances allowed the fear to be turned into new friends, even if that was short lived.
A row of heavy trees now separates the church from the athletic fields. I guess I'm a little hopeful that there could still be a foot and bike path, but I doubt it.
I rode my motorcycle to the church parking lot where my dad was the minister. The church looked about like I remember it. It had an addition built on it in the front shortly before we moved and this addition looks like it was remodeled into offices and a larger entryway. There appears to be a new addition at the back; this second addition is ugly, consisting of mostly glass contrasting with the conservative brick of the rest of the building. A driveway connecting upper and lower parking lots had a gate which was open. This is a change as I remember that it was almost always locked with a very heavy chain to prevent people from using the parking lot as a street connector. "Bad" high school kids would crash the chain and break it a few times a year. The parking lot often had empty forty-ounce beer bottles lying about as a possible connection. Those bad kids were only surpassed by the evilness of the green car with the black top.
Two things about the church did shrink. There was a stone wall allowing a walkway and basement windows from the upper part of the church. This wall used to be a huge impenetrable stone wall that only the mightiest could scale. This rock wall was all of about ten feet tall.
There was also a white outcropping that I think only served as decoration. It was blank when I lived there, surrounded by large evergreen bushes. It had the name of the church on it now in script that looked far too modern to be appropriate. This outcropping was only about eight feet tall.
I wasn't sure if I wanted to see inside of the church or not. One of the most obvious external changes in addition to the glass addition on the back was a myriad of HVAC equipment. On the hot summer days, the church used to have enormous fans to blow the hot soupy air around the sanctuary. I guess God now loves the coolness of air conditioning. No one was around and the church was locked. This may have been a good thing.
The house I lived in looked about the same. The color was wrong and the large tree next to my dad's study had been replaced by a smaller one - at least I think it was. The "huge" front yard was replaced by an average suburban front yard. The side area where the garden used to be was much smaller than I remember and with the large trees shading that area, I don't think a garden would be possible now. I could not see if there was still a crabapple tree in the back yard.
Many of the other houses on the dead end street look like I recall. I can't help but wonder if there are still any of my treasures buried around the area. Neighborhood friend's houses were still recognizable. John H's house, next to Paul B's house and Jerry A's; his beagle and pen long since gone.
One surprising thing on reflection is that I saw no/none/zip kids playing in the area. This would have been unthinkable when I lived there on a hot summerish day. I can only surmise this is due to the aging of the neighborhood, or children really DO stuff outdoors a lot less. Probably, it is both.
I'd like to say I had a nostalgic feeling as I restarted the bike after taking a few pictures, but I didn't. It was time to head to my friend's house anyway.
I got to the pre-Blessing party early and helped set up. The party was a bit low on attendance but was a success. I was able to see several people I hadn't seen in a couple years. By the time the live band was winding down, there were more band members present than guests. They continued until the end with gusto. The singer was kind of creepy - walking around as he sang among an audience only he could see.
I was glad I took the time to get out of Dodge for a day. Catching up with friends after a couple years is an important thing to do. My bikes deserve to have their tires stretched.
As for the old neighborhood, we'll see what it looks like in another twenty years.
