I recently talked about Edgewood – our holding place
between our midwestern hometown and our new home in Baltimore. The adventures
didn’t end there. We eventually made it into our Hamilton neighborhood where we
replanted our roots.
I remember walking into the house for the first time. It
was – to my young eyes – a gorgeous mansion! At the entrance atop a short
flight of concrete stairs, was a lovely screened porch! This would become my
new favorite place - a playground that held my beloved toys but also a great
place to look out at the world and see neighbors passing by. Beyond the porch
was the entryway that everyone passed through.
Inside, there was a formal parlor. Maybe others would call
it something else but this room was only used for special guests. It had a gas
fireplace, built in bookshelves and was very grown up. Next, was the living
room (which may now be called a family room or a great room) that would become
the place to flop on the couch, watch television, play board games, or nestle
on the built in window seat to read or color.
Walk past the staircase, and you’re in the dining room at
the back of the house. This room had windows to view the back yard. It wasn’t a
fancy room but it held the giant table (made from motel doors) with long benches where meals were eaten and homework was done.. On the other side of the
swinging door was the long, narrow kitchen. At one end of the kitchen was a
door that led to the back yard. At the other end, there was a door to the
basement. The basement held the laundry and a lone toilet on a pedestal. Next to
this throne was the Zappa Crappa poster with Frank on the john.
One thing about this house that made it special for our big
family was the intercom that reached every floor. It made calling people to
dinner easy! One was mounted next to the telephone in the dining room, one in
the second floor hallway (next to another wall mounted telephone!) and one on
the third floor. This was especially handy to find out who was there when
people came knocking at the door.
The second floor had 3 bedrooms – one for my mom, one for
my brothers, and one for us girls. Bunkbeds for the win! At one end of the
hallway was the only bathroom in the house. At the other end, was a window that
led out to the roof. We kids spent a lot of time hanging out on that roof. From
there, we could watch fireworks at the Oriole stadium, we could shout at our
friends walking by, or we could moon the neighbors. The possibilities were
endless!
Beyond the house was a whole world that was new to most of
us. At the top of the hill was the elementary school where – beyond school - I
spent a lot of time. I rollerskated, rode my bike, and used the swing set and playground.
We explored the dumpsters and found great treasure! Drawing paper, perfectly
usable crayons and pencils, books, etc. There was no end to what we might find!
Across from the school, was Sal’s - a convenience store with a deli. Anytime we
had a little extra change in our pockets, we’d empty it in exchange for RC
Cola, candy, or a sub. The library was a short bike ride away
As my older siblings quickly made friends, the third floor
of our home became the place to be. It makes sense since this is where the
drums, guitars, amps, and various and sundry music and noise makers were found.
Cards were played, beer was chugged, brotherhoods were built. This may be a
good time to point out that this part of the house was quite haunted and all of
this teen energy surely fueled that activity.
The Albert house had always been welcoming to anyone who
needed a safe place to lay their heads. At one point, my mother brought home a
young couple and their new baby to stay with us while they found their own
home. They briefly settled in our parlor. In the late 70s, bringing a black
family into a white home wasn’t really done and I’m sure there were whispers
from some neighbors about it. I think my mother always presented us with the
best examples. Without preaching or lecturing, she showed us that we are all
brothers and sisters and should always offer a hand when you can.
Baltimore was loaded with adventures to be had! Somehow, my
mother always learned of opportunities to help us stay above water, At one
point, the whole gang spent evenings cleaning trash out of parking lots. We had
bags slung over our shoulders and stabbed paper, cups, cans, etc. with a stick
with a nail on the end. It made quick work and gave us all pocket money for Sal’s.
I spent time at the Boys and Girls club, where I learned about Duck Pin bowling
learning to swim, and doing arts and crafts. A local photographer took modeling
headshots of me (but when he said I might have to go to NY for that, I bailed
with plenty of grumbling from my older brothers who were sure I could have made
us all rich.) We spent our free time exploring what Baltimore had to offer. We
tubed on the rivers, explored the streets and took advantage of every possible way to explore.
The mid to late 70s became rough in Baltimore. Because
there was forced bussing in schools, there was a lot of tension in my older
siblings’ Junior and High schools. Fists flew on a daily basis. My mother was
very concerned about how this was affecting us and thought it was time for us
to move on. We packed up our wonderful home and headed north.
We didn’t go far. We barely crossed the state line into Pennsylvania
and landed in the middle of the woods. Thankfully, we were close enough that my
mother commuted to her Baltimore job, we still saw our old friends and had many
visits downtown. We still had the smell of McCormick seasoning in our noses
and still knew how to properly crack and clean a blue crab, but it was pretty
clear that our new home – while a short drive to our old one - was more than across
that state line. It was another planet entirely.
