Othoridge Road- 1970

Memories of life on Othoridge Road can be summed up in a few words: Cicadas, flying wigs, and Brooks Robinson and the Baltimore Orioles.

It was 1970- a big year in Baltimore not because the 17-year cicada had returned, but because Brooks Robinson was on third base.  Yes, the cicadas-we always called them locusts- were everywhere.  The noise was deafening, especially since we lived in a house without any sort of air conditioning unit.  Summer heat meant all windows were open in hopes of coaxing some kind of breeze out of the humid Baltimore air.  After the cacophony of the cicadas died down we were left with their crunchy shells.  The remnants of their short existence littered the lawns and hung onto every tree in our neighborhood.  It was a pretty miserable summer.  Fortunately, my cousins lived next door and didn't mind supplying me with discounted snowballs from their summer snowball stand.

I've discovered that the snowball stand is somewhat of a Baltimore thing.  Yes, they've popped up a bit here and there as of late, but for me it's not summer without a good ole' Egg Custard snowball.  When I was younger, and my cousins were handing out the friends and family discount, I always went for chocolate with marshmallow on top.  It was a perfect, delightful mess.

Before I get to Brooks and the boys I should explain the flying wig thing.  Wigs were in fashion back then.  My mom had one that sat on a Styrofoam head in her bedroom.  She took it out for special occasions-occasions like my 1st Communion.  I'm sure she looked great in her new wig, I don't remember for sure.  All I remember of that day, besides myself in a white dress and veil with my handpicked bouquet of dandelions, is the moment my mom walked under a tree only to have her wig lifted right off her head by a sneaky little tree branch.

The Orioles had a big year in 1969 but fell short of the winning the World Series thanks to the Mets.  I don't remember all that but I do remember loving my black and white Orioles baseball cap.  One of my favorite pictures is one of my sister and I- sitting at the breakfast table, over our respective bowls of Cheerios, with wide smiles and Orioles caps firmly in place hiding our bed heads.  I'm sure it was that summer of winning Orioles baseball that made me the O's fan I am today.

In some ways it was on Othoridge Road that my memories of my own life begin.   The mind pictures from this point in my life are numerous, really they're much more than snapshots, they're short movies of who I was and what I was doing at the beginning of a new decade. 

...next stop... Gothard Rd.

Life in Lutherville...Part 1

To tell you the truth, I had to call my mom this afternoon to clarify where we lived once we left the DC suburbs, and headed north back to Baltimore.  We didn't return to Govans; we moved a little farther out of the city to the Baltimore County town of Lutherville.  We actually lived in three different places in Lutherville- I was stuck on which one we moved to first.

Thanks, Mom, for setting me straight and helping me to understand why I didn't remember all that much about a little rancher on Ridgely Rd.  You see we only lived there about 6 months.  Mom told me it was a rental property and at some point the owner wanted to take the house back.  My parents agreed to vacate the house if they could find someplace to go.

The brick one story house had a large backyard and a long walkway out front that led to the sidewalk.  There was a larger backyard with a gentle slope downward to a hedge of some sort.  When we first moved in we sat on patio furniture in the empty living room. I never thought about why, I only thought how fun it was to be sitting on a beach chair in my own living room.  We Shall Overcome was the song of the moment and I remember hearing it for the first time while sitting on that odd assortment of furniture.

I had started first grade at St. Joseph's, a small Catholic school, not too far away.  We had our first-ever teenage babysitter while living on Ridgely Rd.  She taught me that you can stay up as late as you want with a babysitter, but once you hear the car door slam in the driveway you have to run right to bed and pretend you've been there for a long time.

And then we were gone.  In fact, I remember going to school in the morning from Ridgely Rd. and coming home in the afternoon to a new house about 3 miles down the road on Othoridge Road.

Colesville Rd.

The house in Silver Spring, a suburb outside of Washington, DC, was a large, white brick structure.  The house-front faced a busy Colesville Rd. My dad would walk out to the bus stop in front of our house each day and catch a ride to work.

The driveway in the back of the house was reached by an access road of some sort.  I remember the garage connected to the house.  My sister was older by the time we moved in, old enough to cry whenever her mother left the house without her.  On those occasions when it was necessary to leave Jeen at home we would hatch an escape plan.  We never left the room together, often I would run out ahead of my mom right through that garage and climb into our waiting Ford Fairlane. Mom would run out behind me and we'd take off as the cries of an unhappy baby filled the air.

I went to Sligo Creek Elementary School down the road.  Kindergarten was a half-day thing back then.  My kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Graham, was always kind- even when I told her the class praying mantis had died at my house over the weekend.  Kindergarten was more fun than learning but I learned a whole bunch that year just the same.

I learned it hurts to break your arm, that if you sit behind the kitchen door and eat a bottle of baby aspirin the doctors at the hospital pump you stomach.  I learned pumping your stomach is the same as making you throw up.  I spent hours on the side patio trying to learn my phone number and finally did.  I met my neighbor, Mrs. Cowger, and learned about making friends.  Her son taught me how to color inside the lines.

While living in the big house on Colesville Rd., I also learned that it was possible to fly to and even walk on the moon.  I saw it for myself on our black and white TV.

We didn't stay in Silver Spring for long- only for about one year.  By the time I started 1st grade I was back in the Baltimore area.

On the Move

Today we read the last chapter of Marshfield Dreams by Ralph Fletcher.  It is in that chapter that Ralph tells of the special kind of goodbye he got from his neighborhood friends before he had to get in the car with his family and head off to their new home.

Afterwards I asked the twenty students who satin front of me if they'd ever experienced a move like Ralph.  Surprisingly only a few- maybe 5 or 6- had.  Wow. By the time I was their age I'd moved 6 times.  Luckily, although I lived in three different places from 1st to 5th grade I never moved far enough to warrant a change in school.  Staying at the same school made the move a little easier but still there were always a new group of neighborhood kids to size up and figure out.

The first house I remember was located on Hollen Road in the Govans section of Baltimore City.  My parents, two brothers and I lived in a small bungalow not too far from a stream down the street.  Most of the memories I have of my life there are more like snapshots- and they are similar to the same snapshots that can be found in the family photo albums stored in my parent's basement.

Hollen Rd. conjures up pictures of my baby carriage, swallowed pennies, Fran and Mandy across the street, grape vines and the arrival of my sister, Jeen, who was lucky enough to enter our lives only days after we had come down with the chicken pox.

It was on Hollen Rd. that I learned not to leave my wagon in the driveway that was shared by our neighbor.  Luckily, she felt bad for running it over and replaced it with one that was even nicer than the one I had.  Yeah, it had the real wooden sides- I couldn't believe it.

Hollen Rd. was a happy place.  I can't say I remember leaving but I do know our next stop was a big one.  We left Baltimore and headed to Washington, DC.

Show Time

After a quick drive up the interstate I found myself back in my old high school for a performance of the school's spring musical.  This time it was a wonderful interpretation of Disney's Aladdin.  Yes, there was music, dancing, a blue genie and general merriment.  It wasn't as big a production as the fall show but the smaller cast gave it their all and the audience was treated to a show full of energy and fun.

Thirty-two years later the auditorium looks pretty much the same as it did when I worked the stage crew for our production of Fiddler on the Roof.  The sets look a tad fancier these days but the smiles and shrieks of the cast at the end of the show are just as wide and loud as they were back in my day.  

Spring is Nice And All But How About A Little Snow?

It seems as though spring is ready to burst forth from the earth.  Green stalks have already shot up through the soil in my backyard and the first hardy daffodils have staked their claim in the sunny sections of the neighborhood.  There's been a lot of chatter amongst the birds- if I had to guess I'd say they've been talking about the lack of snow this winter. 

Yes, the subtle signs of spring are a welcome diversion from the monotony of winter.  Even so, I wouldn't mind too much if that snowstorm everyone has been talking about made a direct hit on the nation's capital.

A Darn Good Day

As far as days off go I'd have to say that the one I had today was just about perfect.  After  a slightly painful medical test in the morning and my weekly allergy shots I had the rest of the day to myself.  It turns out a day with not much to do was just what I needed.

Going out to lunch always makes me happy.  As a teacher it's a treat to be able to sit for an hour or so and enjoy a meal prepared by someone else.  Today's meal of fish tacos was fabulous on its own- throw in a midday beer and a few laughs with a friend and wow what a treat it was.

After lunch I spent about an hour strolling up and down the aisles of Target as I looked for nothing in particular.  By the time I had checked out, to the tune of about $150, I had six bags of everything I was sure I needed. There will be new purple towels in the bathroom, a bright blue ironing board cover and one well-organized desk.

Yes, lunch and a Target shopping spree.  It's hard to imagine much more fun than that isn't it? 

How about an afternoon nap?  Yes, it was a darn good day.