Neighborhoods! What was yours like?

This is a tricky question. What is meant by describing the neighborhood where I grew up? It could include many things such as a description of the houses, the lawn care that the neighbors took to create beauty, windows that we hit while playing baseball in the street, traffic, the people, safety of living there, etc. As I thought about it, I decided that what made this neighborhood unique and enjoyable to live in were the people. The older people were so kind to rambunctious and occasionally obnoxious children. It could be the village that watched out for each other and shared so much to keep us safe and happy, or it could just be the environment of acceptance.

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The neighborhood I grew up in was an area where most of the husbands and fathers were blue collar laborers who worked hard to support their families. These men were honest in their dealings, not pretentious, concerned about their families, didn’t do things to be noticed, and for the most part lived within their means.

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Our parents were not rich, but they were good providers of the basic needs of their families. They didn’t take their families on fancy vacations, but they provided the love and guidance their children needed to succeed in life and taught us the value of love, respect, and hard work.

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Our homes were old (my dad’s house was built around 1909) and by today’s standards they were small. The yards were also small but well-kept and nearly any day during the summer children would be outside mowing, raking, and trimming the lawn. While the houses may have been small, they had the important things like toilets. My first house as a kid didn’t have indoor plumbing, but we had an outhouse to meet our needs, so to have a toilet in the house was a real blessing. 

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As boys we played sandlot baseball and football, walked to Liberty Park where we would swim in the cold water of the swimming pool, played games on our front porches, talked, and joked with each other. We learned to tease and to accept one another for who we were. We enjoyed life and enjoyed being together.

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A high percentage of those raised in my neighborhood did not enjoy a college education but they learned skills that helped them become successful in their own way. We learned that college was good but not necessary to succeed. For example, my friend John started working for Kentucky Fried Chicken while still in junior high school and eventually worked himself up into one of the top administrative positions in the entire company. He finally left this job and went out on his own, buying restaurants that were losing money and turning them around and selling them for a profit. He did very well for himself.

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John has two brothers, Bill and George, who also went into the restaurant business and opened their own restaurants and developed them into thriving businesses. Bill is now retired and enjoying the fruit of his labors while George is still working in his business. Both of these men have done very well with their life choices of an occupation.

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Another friend, Richard, moved to Seattle and learned the butcher trade and became very successful with his work. From his father, he learned the value of working hard and he has followed that example as he has provided for his family.

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Karl has been a very good friend since we first met in the first or second grade and has done very well in sales. Right now, he lives in a small town in Arizona close to Mesquite, Nevada, where he is just retiring after managing a resort hotel for many years. 

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All these men have been very successful in their careers and in raising their families, as have many other friends that I haven’t mentioned. Even though I lost contact with most of them for several years many of us have recently reestablished our relationships. I have found that what we had as children has been maintained as core values for these friendships.

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There were four of us who went to college. Mike went to dental school, Ron studied business, Bill was a journalist, and I went into public health. I recognize that college didn’t make us better men or better fathers or better providers than those friends who developed other skills. What we all had in common was a neighborhood and families which provided us with the encouragement we needed to pursue our dreams.

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We learned the value of self-worth and acceptance of who we are no matter our education, our religious training, or what our fathers did for a living. We developed an appreciation of our differences, and we could be accepting of the life choices each of us made.

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We didn’t have fancy houses, fancy cars, fancy clothes, lots of money, or other fancy things that children raised in other neighborhoods may have had, but, we didn’t feel neglected or deprived.

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Like most neighborhoods the friends I grew up with turned out to be exemplary adults, great husbands (I didn’t have any friends that were girls), exceptional fathers, caring sons, and contributing citizens. I guess I must ask the question, “What is missing?” and the honest answer is I’m not sure there is anything missing, and I assume that as we approach the final years of our lives, we are grateful for the neighborhood where we lived, what we learned from each other, our parents who taught us, and the life we have enjoyed.

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I am personally grateful to the friends I had in my childhood and the things they taught me, the love they showed and kindness they offered. 

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Hopefully, those who read this can look back on their own childhood and have positive memories that come back to them.



Happy Failing Forward,