Friday, August 04, 2006

Now August? Where did July go???

July blew right by us in a flurry of visitors and outings. We had Bill's Uncle and Aunt, and at the end of the month my sister and her family, plus a Great Dane in tow!!! That is one BIG DOG (weighs in more than me!!).

Summer - growing up was always about family and friends, vacations were a mix of visitations and education. Museums, tours of facilities (every lock on the Great Lakes and St. Lawrence Seaway)and historical sites, (in the USA and Canada).

There was at least one trip to an amusement park, usually Cedar Point. At least one "beach trip" usually to somewhere on Lake Erie or Lake St. Clair. and a week or two of camping (with the Girl Scouts for me and the Boy Scouts for my brother).

I remember that as children, before I was in my teens. We would go up to Detroit to visit Dad's family. We stayed at Grandma's, my parents in Dad's old room and my sister and I in our Uncle's old room. Our brother had the open area at the top of the stairs which was larger and we often played house up there.

During the Depression and throughout WWII, my grandparents made the upstairs into a rental unit with it's own bathroom (toilet, sink and small shower; the sink doubled as a kitchen sink) those were removed at the end of the war.

It was a fun place on rainy days! The front porch (every house had a front porch) was the entire front of the house and wider than the living room. There was a crawl space underneith and it was for outdoor and garden equipment storage. There were two access doors, one on each side, with steps on one side. It was always cool and damp, no matter how hot outside!!

And my grandparents kept it clean!! That German influence, everything kept clean, you could eat in there, if you didn't mind the ants.

There were many playgrounds within walking distance, with little shops and stores that my grandparents used, and that they seemed to know everyone, and everyone knew them.

We could walk to the grocery store, but had to drive to the super market. There was a Montgomery Wards and a Sears store down the street and around the corner. And a bar on the corner across the street.

One story in the family, my grandma was proud of my grandpa, for all his faults (and he had a few) drinking was not one of them. Neither my Uncle or my father ever had to go into the Bar to get their father! Women, least wise, "married women or good girls" did not go into bars.

I remember once walking with my Dad and we went in - I was begging to see inside. It looked like our basement at home. The bartender was a childhood chum that still lived in the area. And I got a orange soda and Dad a Verners (Ginger Ale aged in oak barrels).

The area was pretty much unchanged from WWII era. Grandpa was an early photography hobbyist and there were lots of photos of the neighborhood, the houses being built, remodeled or gardens over the years. And always included were the neighborhood children, and other neighbors. So I had something tangible to compare to.

My Uncle and his family have all of Grandpa's photos. It is sad to see just how quickly after the mid 1970s everything went over from bad to worse. My Grandparents blamed it all on "The Land Lords" the people that were buying up old houses and then renting them. They said the whole character changed when no one "owned" the house and had no stake in it.

The yards would be first, the grass dried up and died and was no reseeded. The gardens were either allowed to grow wild (like the rose brushes) or went weedy. Next there would be small repairs and "touch-ups" that went with out fixing. Painting long over due, and things that broke and were not fixed.

It was not long before household trash, that once was only in trash cans, with secured lids in the alley ways, was blown everywhere.

Broken glass in the playgrounds were another sign, followed shortly later by other things such as was graffitti on the play structures. Soon the swings were all broken, the slides dented up and trash everywere.

It was at this time my Grandparents moved out, selling their prized house to a young family. But a few years later, heard that the family sold it to one of the many "Land Lords."

My brother and cousin last summer went looking for it. It was surrounded by a fence, the neighborhood looked like a war zone, many lots were empty of houses. The house they sought -- looked like a bombed out "crack" house. They did not take any photos, it was too sad.

I remember the last time I saw it, there were tall shady trees, still lots of grassy front yards. And the image I have in memory, of dappled shade, green lawns, front porches and the sound of children at play, mothers and grandmas cooking and the grandpas fixing porch steps or squeeky bikes. The smell of flowers from the many gardens, the heat off the asphalt and tar, and the petro smell of machine lubercant as grandpa fixed up Dad's old bike for us to ride.

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