Recently I spent some time in the town where I grew up. I was there to visit with a friend and I thought I would take a tour of "the old neighborhood" before I went to his house.
The section of town where I lived was called "Mapleside"; named after the variety of tree that seemed to be in everyone's back yard. I turned off of Oldtown Road onto Turner Street, and as I did, I looked in the rear view mirror and saw the house that the Shook's lived in. Their back yard was one of the many places where we gathered to play wiffle ball in the summer and football in the fall. My buddy Eddie Bishop lived on Turner Street. Back in the day, I could cut through Mr. & Mrs. Apple's yard and be at Eddie's in less than a minute. Mr. Apple would yell at me to stop running through his yard but I never listened.
Making the turn onto First Street, I noticed that the big willow tree from "Aunt Birdie's" yard was not there anymore. I turned onto Mullen Street and stopped in front of the house where I lived. For a moment I relived a million memories of growing up Kirby. The bedroom in the front of the house was where I would lie awake at night and listen to the sound the trains from the B&O rail yard. We had a street light on the telephone pole in front of our house. I'm pretty sure that every kid lived under the same rule that I did...When the street light came on at night, you had better be home.
Just below our house at the intersection of First Street and Massachusetts Avenue, there used to be four fields that were the gathering place for the kids in the neighborhood. Those fields saw hundreds of games of baseball and football over the years. Future Hall of Famers like Ricky Schade, Donny Martin, Dana Kober and Laurie Plummer played along side me over the years. All of those fields now have houses on them.
I passed the Mapleside playground and noticed that the swings, slide and basketball courts have now given way to houses as well. Unless you ever played there, you would never know that hundreds of kids used to spend their summers on that parcel of ground. The church we attended is now closed. I saw that someone had bought it and made it into a house. I continued on my trek out of Mapleside into South Cumberland and passed the house where I was nearly killed by plane that had been set on fire and thrown from the front porch of Steve Kessell's house. It's funny how that a near tragedy can bring two people together to become life-long friends.
As I drove down the brick paved street to my buddy's house, I couldn't help but think that nothing stays the same forever. Time really does march on. I wouldn't trade my childhood for anything. I had a blast growing up Kirby in that little section of town called Mapleside. The friends I made then are still my friends today. And while playgrounds, fields and churches might be gone, I know that the same God who was responsible for my past is the One who is responsible for my future. While my surroundings might change I know that His love for me never will.
Be Well.
Bill
