Aftershocks and Memories

Our house was on the corner of 32 and Miles. I used to think of this as the command center for the block. The block was defined by Miles Street to the North , 32 street to the East , 33 street to the West , and Capitol Highway to the South. the local Grocery Store was two blocks away, to the right and to the left was the dark and mysterious forest we called the woods. In fairness the woods were actually an undeveloped sliver of land about two blocks square , until I burned down a portion of it with a homemade bomb.
On the North Corner of 33rd and Miles was the home of Rex Riley , my childhood playmate and the only person I have ever wounded with a knife. Across the Southern Boundary was Multnomah Grade School , which boasted four separated classrooms two of which were used for Kindergarten , the other two for some sort of Cold War intelligence gathering ( or so we thought ), a large paved area used as a play ground for the kindergarten. The upper school had an auditorium which coupled as the school cafeteria , so that when you went to the annual Christmas Play you could still easily smell the heady aroma of mac and cheese in the air. There was a Gym large enough to have a trampoline , and a basket ball court where we would also play dodge ball , and learn about the mysteries of life. IN fact it was in this very gym that several of us younger boys learned that not all was what it seemed...for several months we had noticed that one of the eight grade girls had been not only been growing up , but out as well , the out part was what had got our attention , and it appeared the envy of some of the other older girls as well ...that is until the poor girl was hit full in the chest by a hard driven dodge ball by _______ and the entire gym seemed to come to a standstill as her chest deflated with an audible whoosh and she ran crying out of the gym. In an instant her life had changed , no more dreams of High School beauty pageants and homecoming courts , she became an source of jokes and ridicule , the story grew each year until at one point I heard a version of it where the concussion of the escaping air from her brassiere was enough to knock over Mrs Hannah the third grade teacher who needed a cane to get around. Nature abhor es a vacuum and in she was replaced in the hierarchy of adoration by ________ who was much more natural , yet still nicely curved .
Where was I ? Oh yes Multnomah Grade School had sixteen classrooms , until my seventh grade year then fifteen usable ones after the unfortunate incident with the Bunson burner and Turpentine that seemed to have something to do with me.
Directly across the street from the school were three buildings on the right was the Masonic Temple , On the corner of 33rd street and Capital Highway was Verdemum Oil , the local gas station and fuel oil storage for the neighborhood , there were usually three of four service station attendants and mechanics out an about at this location all dressed in green coveralls , after the small disasters in the woods and the fire at the school a large fence was built around the Oil Storage Facility , and several armed guards were added ...I also was asked to no longer walk past the facility but I believe that was an overreaction.
There were two other areas nearby that figured into these growing years one was directly north of our house propped on top of the hill we lived on , and that was the air raid tower, at least once a week we were reminded of the ever present danger of the Communist aggression and were sent diving for cover under our school desks as the long and mournful horn from the tower would cover our playground with the sound of doom , the other area was west of that a new housing development that let me shave several minutes off my paper route until I was denied access to the area after building a small dam , which backed up and almost destroyed a house and its foundation.
This then was the area I grew up in in West Portland. It was the neighborhood and it was a place dear to my heart. In time my parents would move a new home unto the vacant lot next to our home on the corner ( 7415 SW 32 ) , I would enter High School from that house and I would be living there until my first marriage , my father would die in the house , after a short struggle with lung cancer , and my mother would live alone there for About twenty years , never getting over his passing, After dad died the house got darker , often the joy of my childhood seemed far away , and moms sadness and depression evident through her struggles against it made it more and more difficult to visit ..little did I realize then that I was also contributing to this cycle of despair by my reluctance to confront it. I had no way to comfort my mother , and in my frustration I drew away from her , I had no way to comfort myself with the loss of my Father so I looked for distractions where I could find them , it was like I had no currency to pay the piper his due. I had chased the dog laughing and teasing and pulling on his tail and the dog had inexpiably bit me ...and I confess there was a time when this magical block , this land of my sojourn , the neighborhood I grew up in was ignored , and shoved out of my busy life , all that had given so much to me was ignored and forsaken I had put those pieces of the puzzel away.
Mom moved to Spokane as she neared the end of her life , though we did not know it was the end ...I still go by the house on the corner of 32nd and miles when I am in the area , and when I do I often sit quietly in front of the house , think of those years of running green in the sun , think of two wonderful and loving parents who gave so much in service to their children...my jaw gets tight , and it starts to ache and tears will invariably flow ..so much past , so much lost , so many thank you's un thanked , so much unappreciated in the headlong rush to being a grown up.