From ages four through twelve I lived in a garden apartment court on the Northeastern corner of Queens. There were 40 families and I I knew every one, up close and personal.
Our apartments were small without halls or air conditioning. But even in the winter, unless there was a torrential blizzard or it was the middle of a thunderstorm with lightning blazing we were supposed to be outside playing. In front of the apartments were grass, trees and benches for the old people—you know, the ones who were about 35.
In back of the apartments were huge concrete driveways with garages, playgrounds and much room for bike riding. I would ride from concrete backyard to concrete backyard. Later it would remind me of John Cheever’s The Swimmer.
I don’t remember that we ever did homework but we must have as we all did well—graduated high school, college and more.
The other night my doorbell rang. There was my neighbor, Lanie, who I hadn’t seen since she was ten and I was twelve!
It was amazing. Put two girls from Queens in a house and you get a lot of talking, and comfort, and the feeling that time hasn’t elapsed, and you’re once again secure little kids who knew that one day you would conquer the world because you conquered the court, the Crescent (name of our street) and the larger world of Beech Hills (our garden apartment development.)
I’m not sure that our lives worked out according to our plans basically because I’m not sure that we had plans.
But life is good. Better than good.
Excuse me while I go capture some fireflies, take some chalk and make a potsy board (like hopscotch but way more fun) and play some virtual ringelivo.
Playing and camp were what summer was all about. And oh yes the mandatory family trip.
I took Lanie on a tour of North Myrtle, to Brookgreen Gardens—a place everyone should go to, and Pawley’s Island so she could say she had gone (almost) from one end of The Grand Strand to the other.
It was wonderful. I love having overnight company. Makes me once again appreciate how incredibly beautiful my new almost–hometown is!
Sounds fantastic. Had you stayed in touch all that time?
No. She was my sister’s friend. When you had to be exactly the same age!
How wonderful! I love “remembering when.” All my sisters and most all of my close childhood friends are gone. I would love to talking about the things we did together “back when.” It’s no use talking about those things to anyone else really. I have good, long-term friends now. But their childhood lives were completely different from mine.
Was it all so carefree then, or is that the way it seems looking back? It makes me think of John Prine’s “ How Lucky.
“Today I walked down the street I use to wander
Yeah, shook my head and made myself a bet
There was all these things that I don’t think I remember
Hey, how lucky can one man get.”
I’m lucky as most of my long term friends are from NYC and no matter what borough we’re from we basically all had the same childhood
That feeling of reconnecting with someone from childhood is powerful; it is both remote and more powerful than anything. I am so glad you had this visitor–and so glad you wrote about it, as I now have to go look up a potsy board and ringelivo!
As usual you say it all and say it so well!