Myrtle Street looking West

(Originally published on December 21, 2007)

One of the most important landmarks in anyone”s life is the street where they grew up. I spent almost 30 years of my life on Myrtle Street. I”ve lived next to relatives and beside neighbors who were almost like family.

I remember as a very young child playing in the street with my brother and sister and other children who lived on the street. That was before you had to worry about traffic. In those days, a car seldom came down the street during the work day.

It was safe on Myrtle Street. Back in the sixties and seventies, neighbors looked out for you. If you were doing something you weren”t suppose to be doing, they would tell you, and probably tell your parents. If you needed help, they were there. As children, we must have made a lot of noise on the street, but I never heard a complaint (well, maybe one or two from “The Queen”).

My uncle and father would actually close off the street with police barriers, park a tractor-trailer on 22nd street and use it as a movie screen. We had street parties! This tradition lasted into the seventies. If anyone is interested, I have a picture of Stu dressed as Al Jolsen.

Of course, what makes a place special is the people. I won”t mention some of the families that still live on the street for privacy sake, but I remember some of those who have gone: The Kirers(sp), Mrs. Elliot, The Dyers, The Hoffners, The Brennens (22nd Street at the corner), Aunt Liz”s Family(opposite the Brennens), The Fosters (across 22nd Street), Laurel and others. And there were the passers-by: the Water Ice Man and the Broom Guy.

Neighbors on a small street like Myrtle St. were like family. They saw you at your best and your worse. Family arguments could be heard and even sometimes spilled out onto the street. But like family, it was kept on the street and if not forgiven, at least not mentioned.

While I don”t think I would like to live in a row house again, I can say that my memories and impressions of living on Myrtle Street are mostly good. The people who lived on the street are a part of my past, and I look back on that past fondly.