It was an ordinary day. I had just stopped for gas in the Mountaineer. Jerry, my really old friend from elementary school went into the convenience store for a cup of coffee. He and his wife Just Sue are here for a visit and to reminisce about the "good ole times". Need some of that once in a while to help remember how you got to where you are today. Jerry hopped back in the car and we decide to head into the old neighborhood where we first met and grew up together. Only a mile or so away from where I live now. As we drive over the railroad tracks heading into the city of Lancaster we take a right onto Manheim Avenue. This is where Jerry grew up with his mom, dad and sister. 138 Manheim Avenue kind of looks the same and is probably one of the nicer houses on the street. He starts in on all the common friends we had from the neighborhood and all the things we used to do. I lived two blocks to the east of Jerry, across Rt.72 from his house. I didn't know Jerry real well during our elementary years since my mom wouldn't let me cross the busy Rt.72 and head into "his neighborhood." That changed when I entered Jr. High and we rode the school bus together. Then I HAD to cross the road in order to get the bus in front of Frey's Lumber Company which was near Jerry's house. We drove around to the alley behind his house to see if we remembered which garage it was that he helped me rebuild the engine in my first car, a '53 Henry J. Yep, the one that said "No Parking" in front of it. Can't believe how low the roof was on the garage. There were no minivans and Hummers back then. Headed over to my old house on Queen Street. Queen was the main road out of Lancaster going north. I lived in the last block on the street, near the Lancaster Train Station. 929 used to be a nice place. At least I remember it as such. had fun playing marbles on the porch and helping my dad put the canvas awning up so we could sit on the porch in the summer and watch the cars go by. That's when cars were really neat and didn't all look the same. Across the street was an empty field where it seemed like there were evangelical tents erected almost every weekend for services. Mom didn't like me across the street, but you know I just had to peek inside to see what "those people" were doing in that tent. Today the house has the front porch enclosed and covered with green siding. Big sign on the fence yells "Beware of Dog." Jeez, what ever happened to the neat awning? We drove around to the back of the place where the alley ended at our place. Had a basketball net on a pole behind the house. Used to have cage after cage of guinea pigs in the back yard. Bought my first car with the proceeds of selling the pigs. Dad, and eventually me, parked his car in the alley. When I turned 15 he would let me drive his car back and forth in the alley so I would get used to stick shift so I could get my license when I turned 16. I had ruts in that alley from all the driving I did. They may have come from flooring the pedal too much in the muddy alley. Also saw the fence at the other end of the alley that I climbed up on when I was 12 to try and lasso a pigeon that I had raised and got away from he. He had flown on the roof of the garage and I tried to get him back, but fell off the fence and broke my arm. Wow, I can really remember things when I want to! Fence is taller now and there are no more pigeons in the neighborhood. Headed down Christian Street, the street behind the printing company which was behind our house to visit the old ball field where we played "Off the Wall". No grass, just blacktop as it was in the 50s and early 60s. Jerry reminded me about getting a ride home in a police cruiser one day from the ball field. Seems we were accused of breaking windows in the press building. To this day I maintain my innocence. It really wasn't me, mom!! I'm not sure about the rest of the gang, though! We naturally had to make a stop at the train station to recount how his neighborhood beat my neighborhood in football on the lawn beside the station. It is no longer green, but covered in stone to act as parking for the station. Pretty ugly!! Oh, I remembered the games differently, naturally. One final stop had to be Brecht Elementary where we learned reading, writing and 'rithmetic. I was good in all, can't you tell. Now, Jerry ......! We still can't believe we had to walk the mile or so to school everyday along the busiest north/south route in the area. Over the train bridge that carried the sign, "Warning - High Voltage - Keep Off" sign. But, we survived. We left the school in '56 for bigger and better things in Jr. and Sr. High. Oh the memories! Fun to reminisce! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - Pixs follow which Just Sue took after we got home and convinced her to get out of bed and get dressed and go back with us!
A visit to Jerry's homestead at 138 Manheim Avenue
Rear of 138 Manheim Ave. where Jerry grew up. The garage was just big enough to get my '53 Henry J in it to rebuild the engine.
929 North Queen Street. There was no pine tree in the front yard and there was a porch on the house like the one on the attached house. Lived here until I was 19 years old.
The alley behind 929 North Queen Street. My house was the last one at the end, next to the white building which was a printing company when I lived there. Drove my dad's car back and forth for hours in this driveway.
The wooden fence used to be a waist-high metal fence that I climbed on to try and lasso my pet pigeon. Fell off and broke my arm.
My "baseball stadium" where I played "Off the wall". We marked a strike zone on the white wall and the pitcher stood in the parking lot to throw to us. Boarded windows are the ones that we were accused of breaking.
Where we are standing was once our football field. Grass lawn with a row of pine trees. Building in the rear is the Lancaster Train Station which is going through renovations.
Our 1st grade class was the room with the windows to the right of the doors we are standing in front of. We had the same teacher every year except 2nd grade.
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