Moss the ….. (6)

Hamilton Park, was a fine neighborhood and could not have been better if we had put brush to canvas and then willed it into being.  M, was just  a one year old when we moved into the house on Spencer Avenue.  St was eight.  Da was seven.  Su was five. Pau was three. That would bring us to 1961.  The two oldest boys stayed at Sacred Heart for schooling as did Su until she received First Holy Communion.  James Buchanan was the school that was an easy walk for the others as they grew.  Pt and Ln presented themselves to the world from this house.

I remember it as being a very happy time of growing and playing and thriving for all of us.  The children had oodles of appropriate friends they met at  a picture perfect playground across from a picture perfect Church.  That Church would have a wonderful fair every summer in that very park.  We all made our way to the park.  Often adult basket-ball enthusiasts would play with the kids.  It got so that St would know on the adults doors and ask them if they wanted to come out and play.

The big boys had paper routes eventually.  They may not remember but I helped when there were snowy days.  That was a big jog since they had to also collect the money from their customers. Su would plant flowers and sell them.  Dad rented a plot of ground in order to put in a vegetable garden. This garden was just a few blocks away and the children helped and they also sold some of the vegetables to neighbors for pocket money.  The rest of their days were filled with any…I am sure all the activities they could find–often self generated.

It was my time to be in Mother’s Club at Sacred Heart and to join in Great Books Discussions at the Library downtown Lancaster.  There were a few chores to do along the way:  washing, ironing, cleaning, cooking.  The house and the children always looked well put together.  It all worked because I worked, Dad worked and the children worked when appropriate.  We played too.  One of the sweet memories was having lemon aide on the porch after a Little League games.

Grandmother Camille stayed with us for a short while until she found a little apartment down the street.  It was quite cute and on the first floor.  The children went to see her because of their mutual love of ice-cream.

Then the day came that we were bursting at the seams.  It was a big house but not big enough. By this time, your Dad had made so many things that the singing of the saw and the storing of the wood did not seem to fit any more.  The quiet, staid teachers next door would often show dark glances at the sound of the saw screaming. and rubber balls flying over their porch.  So that is when the Mom became impassioned to find a county home.  The Dad was okay with that idea and we looked at many farm homes in many different parts of the county.

At last, we found it with the help of a friend who knew that with a little nudge the owner might sell.  It was, after all deserted and simply sitting there waiting for us to come claim it.  So, it was a bit more complicated than that. In 1971, we moved to the country.  The children were older by ten years when we drove up the long bending lane to see a charming and warming sight.  Amish neighbors were mowing our lawn with push mowers.

As far as I am concerned those years from 1971 to 1985 were filled with lots of good meals– winter and summer. …Forth of July and Christmas. …Weddings and parties.  Would not trade memories of children and their friends.    Would not trade grandchildren happily roaming about.  Would not trade long bike rides.  …Wells going dry.  …Mockingbirds singing in the wee  hours of the day.  Regal horses and shy lambs–big and little dogs and not to be left out, Mother Cat (our pussy cat), who taught us that the best way to heal is to just be still.  I leave you with this:  it was not quiet one night in July when some of my children set off some  firecrackers in Titus Oberholtzer’s mail box.  I can still see that man’s indulgent face  and twinkling eyes as he told Dad.

If I am not mistaken the rest of the story is in some kind of non-order in t his blog. Remember if you would.  Enjoy if it pleases you.


mosswood 2012


~ by mosswood on July 22, 2012.

2 Responses to “Moss the ….. (6)”

  1. Hamilton Park was indeed a fine neighborhood with fine memories to boot!

  2. Ya! Ya!

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