Baltimore...

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.