Cindy: I just had to share some pictures from my old neighborhood, here in Cheyenne. I'm sure Chuck mentioned that I lived here in the 60's - what an understatement! My family moved here when I was 5 or 6. My Dad was career Air Force and was stationed at Warren Air Force Base in Cheyenne. Against all odds, we lived in the same town for 6 years, though we did move to a different house when I was in 6th grade. NO ONE in the AF managed to stay in the same place so long, yet we did, and those years formed so much of who I am. I lived at 5127 Syracuse Dr.
Do you see the far left window? That's where my sister and I shared a bedroom. Almost weekly we'd stand in front of the mirror to see who was taller THIS WEEK. On December evenings, I'd lay in my bed and watch the Christmas light reflections blink on and off in various combinations, and dream of presents and Santa. The garage was, when I lived here, a car port that my Dad built. Before cable and satellite tv, there were antennas, and ours was on the extreme right, against the carport (now garage) post. I'd climb up that antenna just so that I could jump off the roof - and for a split second, I'd fly. At least, until my Mom noticed that every kid from the 'hood was in line to follow me and potentially break a bone or two. When I was pretty young, my Dad carried me out of that front door because I'd had a late reaction to penicillin and couldn't walk. I spent the next week in a military hospital, in the women's ward because the children's was full, trying to figure out a way to outfox Nurse Ratchet, who was the nurse of the women's ward because she hated children.
Next door was where Debbie (my age) and Jimmy (Debbie's little brother) lived. Debbie and I were in the same grade, and walked to school together, and were in Brownies together. Jimmy ate ants. His Dad used to leave at 4 in the morning for work, and their house was full of interesting junk. Their yard was full of interesting junk. Looking at the 2 houses today, you'd think that the Garretts and the Bakers still lived there, for my Mom always kept a neat and "non junky" home. >smile<
Across the street lived the Millers. Shane was my age, and I had a crush on him. It was so bad that one day when I got very mad at him, I kicked him in the shin and raised a tremendous bruise! Mrs Miller was the nicest, kindest lady I'd ever known.
At one end of our street was a cul de sac - which when I was growing up was simply a hill, with great sledding, lots of bugs and the weeds that grow miniature spears. EVERY winter I'd sled sown the hill, that isn't there anymore.
Just over that hill, the hill that isn't there anymore that's inhabited by condos now, used to be the shell of a house, no doors, or windows, that a family actually lived in one summer! It was my introduction to poverty and starvation - the little girl from that family was in my class, and once I invited her and her brothers to come to my house, and I gave them all apples. They ate the apples, the cores, the seeds, and the stems. I was amazed!
I drove the route (opposite direction from the cul de sac) that I used to walk every day to school. Even today, in a car, that route seems amazingly far - at least 1/2 mile, perhaps more!
No matter what the weather, I, and eventually my sister and then brother, would walk down the length of Syracuse ave to Hobbs El. The road in the picture above is the same place I once saw a horse galloping, with nothing but a rope halter, right down the middle of the road. I used to imagine he'd escaped from bad people and was finally free!
My sister once followed me to school, I guess Mom wasn't watching. I was in Kindergarten, which meant that my sister was 3 and my brother was 1. I kept looking back to tell her to go home, but as in later years, she ignored me and followed me all the way to school, where I called home and told Mom, who told me to wait for her to come get sis. Boy was I in trouble!!
In a later grade than Kindergarten, I remember, distinctly, on the corner you see in the picture above, an incident that really shaped me. A classmate who had Down's syndrome dropped her school books after school, when the sidewalk was crowded with children going home, either by bus or walking, like me. The wind, which was nearly constant, blew her skirt up, revealing her underpants, and children laughed and taunted. I remember being so ashamed for her, and of myself for not helping her. Lord help me to never be watching from the sidelines when a human being needs support!
I bet you're wondering why I took a picture of the fence! On this fence, many a school child stuck their tongue, in the cold of winter, because someone else had told them that if they did, it would stick. I stood, one very cold winter recess, near this fence watching a boy who was stuck to the fence by his tongue, and thinking, I'm NEVER going to lick that fence in the winter. LOL
I hope you'll forgive my trip down memory lane. So much of who and what I am was formed at 5127 Syracuse.
