A New England Childhood - A Great Kid

I aspired to be one thing: a great kid. What elseimmediate neighborhood, but you'd have been an allies
besides a pre-cop or pre-fireman might a five year oldagainst children from another neighborhood.
be? Among my early career paths, a polite kid rode aIn all sports, a child played on his neighborhood's teams.
superhighway to preschool success. Behavior I tookWe played what we called Park's League. All but the
for granted at that time, was taught to me by mysmallest neighborhoods had a football, baseball, hockey,
parents. These lessons became habits. We mightand street hockey team. We managed this, created
have been the farm team for Bill Sykes's ragamuffinschedules, championships, try-outs (you played on your
pickpockets, but at least we addressed an adult inteam, if you made your team). Older kids, high
conversation using their last names preceded by Mr.,schoolers, usually tipped the balance. Oakvale, our
Mrs. or Miss. Why? It's simple. Appearance was moreneighborhood had 3 starters on Framingham North, and
important than content, hence the oft spoken "I stoleone starter on Marion HS (the Catholic HS). We were
Mr. Smith's hose." or, "I broke all of Miss Hutchins's cara good team. I played second base, making the team
windows with a bat." or, "Msgr. O'Brien would kill me ifin fifth grade. We were a very good team, but never
he knew that I stuck hosts I stole from the sacristywon a championship in baseball.
and put them on the windshields of the cars in the lotIf God had decided to create this place, he'd have
before Mass."dropped the entire sprawl exactly where it was, on an
We knew how to speak to adults.old orchard. My neighborhood always smelled like
As times have changed I notice among my ownapples.
children the unwillingness to properly introduceThe most important lessons we learned growing-up in
themselves, mumbling instead of speaking and neverthis environment were taught by our parents and
offering to an adult males a sticky five year old paw.neighbors:
Never, except for their teachers have they called- Be a good kid;
anyone Mr., Mrs., or Ms. The kids don't steal or- Be loyal to your family and your neighborhood;
randomly vandalize property, either. Yeah, it's a- Hate a bully...beat him senseless ganging-up on him
trade-off.until he changed his ways. Never tell on him.
Take these little kids we were and drop them into the- Never tell on anyone. The neighborhood can take
postcard perfect New England town and you'd havecare of itself.
Burt and I (quaint New England humorists) in fifty years.- Right or wrong, a kid from your neighborhood could
Put them instead in the stubbornly dieing mill towns,ALWAYS rely on you to support him against
where time had simply raced past the hand-madeoutsiders. If he was wrong, and the 2 of you took a
shoe industry, and you got us instead.hellacious beating, the neighborhood would square him
Our town, more like a small city, housing 75,000 people,away for his sins: getting you beaten-up, and whatever
had by the early sixties become more a bedroomhe had done to ignite the initial problem.
community to Boston, than a stand alone industrial- BIG LESSON: DON'T CRY, WHILE or COMPLAIN. If
center. Many of the factories, Dennison Paper, Generalyou kept your mouth shut endured what you had to,
Motors, the women's prison and other large employersand solved your own problems, you'd rarely have to
like them, still remained, but by the eighties they wouldcall upon your neighborhood for support. The same
be shuttered.was true of your parents. Retribution from the
Route 9 divided Framingham; North housed the middleneighborhood, or your parents could be swift and
and lower middle class; some pockets becoming moresevere if it turned out that you could have dealt with
established and wealthier, but far more of theyour own problem. Maybe that's one reason I'm such a
neighborhoods seemed stuck in that post-WWII sprawl.crummy patient today.
South of Route 9 is where the poor lived. FraminghamI slipped and slid quite a bit here. I'm trying to sketch the
was an enormous spread of houses, one atop theframework of the first of my 2 part childhood. I find
other yet at the same time, subdivided into separatelessons today in many of the situations that delved in
and distinct neighborhood, each with too many kids;my early years. God, bless us all; my parents and
each bordered by 5-9 neighborhoods just like it; eachthose kids were your angels. It's humbling how often
with its' own playground. The boundaries betweenthey were right. We are His kids; some of us had the
neighborhoods were natural: streams, hills woods,additional benefits that came of a rough and tumble
ponds, an aqueduct, railroad tracks, and busy streets.youth.
You'd not have been friends with every kid in your