my town -
my neighborhood -
The North End
of a Mississippi River town -
certainly quite the notorious place
to be from
as the neighborhoods bordering
would agree
but only The North '-:^"*+% Enders
know what I mean -
the ones from Pinard and Jackson
and Washington Street -
and Central Avenue - all 29 blocks long
back then
a wide swath cut through town
north end blended into southern river's edge -
the flatlands in the heart of
endless hills -
and 'the Flats' we told ourselves
were to the south along the tracks
mixed with various industries
low incomes
and characters unsavory
as the legend goes
but we knew the boundary was
imaginary
in view of the view
from our own front porches -
long rows of long blocks with alleys
down the middle of every one
and deep stone curbs
to accomodate the flooding warm rains we walked in for hours
in our bare feet -
blocks of two-stories tall and lean
with occasional fences and smaller one-story bungalows in between
all detached garages
and steep narrow staircases and small porches graced the outsides
of many of our flatland homes
to be reckoned with in the bitter winter's cold and never-ending snow -
in the valley that the was the flatland holding all the snow in
contained between jutting ( mountainous it seemed when we we small )
forest covered rolling foothill-sized ranges -
perfect terrain for day and night life
in The North End -
stealthing through the woods
to get where we're going -
cutting through the humble quiet of God's Country
to get to school at the top of a hill
where we learned the path so well
we could run it in the night -
the best hide 'n seek terrain in the world
and a real good place to take beer in a case and
for under-age cigarette smoking
but the only thing flat land is good for is farming
and a place to ride a bike
or a horse - at least until the courage comes to
take off up a hill -
like the same hill we flew down at top speed on a
piece of cardboard prior to the flying saucer invention
and with too many on a tobaggon
so many Januaries -
we knew what to do with the Winter -
building ice houses and igloos block by block in the backyard
with snowball fights breaking out while fashioning a snowman/woman
wearing someone's sacrificial scarf around its neck
and then as we got older
we went fishing on the ice and drove 'ice cars' down the frozen river
where we traveled by boat when it thawed
with its bluffs and slopes lined with soft green green grass
and every green dense foliage
all Spring and Summer long
and the hills blaze with red in the Fall -
where the mud is black when water mixes with the Earth
and earthy we were
in The North End -
where too many street corner addresses
sold liquor by the drink and didn't care how young we were
omg !
rivaled only by opulent Catholic cathedrals and schools -
acreage carved from every other corner of every other block
all through town
dotted with Monasteries on the edges and the outskirts
where the farmland began
spreading like a giant rolling quilt as far as the eye could see with lots of
fresh country cow air out there -
dotted with Amish communities
still traveling with horse and buggy
but when in the flat land of The North End
it just smelled like
buses stopping starting -
and leaded gas in the tanks of too many newly driving North End teenagers
mostly Chevrolet's in those days
stick-shift Impalas and such
and wood and coal stoves still warmed some homes
in the flatland North End
when the Beatles and the Beach Boys were young
and it was a magic moment
as I tied up my skates on my front stoop one crisp December night
gliding down the narrow ice-covered sidewalk
one long city block
to the ice rink down the street
and stepped onto the ice to hear the first strains of
Barbara Ann
" ah-Ba Ba Ba Ba Barbara Ann ah-Ba Ba Ba . . . . . .
. . . take my hand oh Barbara Ann " . . . . . . . . .
coming from the clubhouse speakers
where we went to warm our feet and
Oh Man it was so profound that
I knew then I would be thinking about it
some day
right now
and I met the best boyfriend that night
and I think about him too
as he lives in a twilight stupor not knowing his family sometimes
they told me -
in a nursing home for many long years
from breaking his neck in a too-shallow dive
swinging and jumping from our favorite rope swing for fun over O'Leary's lake
cuz that's what some of the North End guys were up to -
living large and wild all over the place and sometimes they took me "with"
but I wasn't there the day he broke his neck -
long gone and far away from home
for whatever reason ???
so I didn't know for years
until I had the intuition
to look for him in the hometown telephone book
no longer listed
and so I called his parents somewhere in the late 80's
to hear he would " never be the same again . . . ever "
and it used to be my town -
ah yes those were the days and it used to be
my neighborhood and he was the best boyfriend
and I'll never forget the look in his eys as he reached for my hand
to join in 'crack the whip' on the ice
North End style
and later on we skated backwards together for a while -
rubbing snow in each other's 14 year-old faces
falling gladly into snow piled at the ice rink edges
and when the lights turned low
and the music wound down
we headed to our North End homes
with a smile -
same smile we had for each other all through high school
when each day he picked me up in the Old '48 with the suicide doors . . .
. . . ah-Ba Ba Ba Ba Barbara Ann
ah-Ba Ba Ba . . . . . . . . . . . . and I'm sure he would know me
now . . .
if I ever get back there
I'm gonna find out . . .
Domestic Violet
Semper Vi ~
Survivor . . . from the VORTEX
