Roslindale Op/Ed Http://TownOnLine.com
Hank Brandli grew up in
School’s out in
Rozzie
In Rozzie during the 40's, when "school's
out" was shrieked by the sweaty little kids as they ran helter-skelter
down the cement steps of the Mozart, Conley and Phineas Bates schools, our
summer “vacation” began, at least for
the kids.
One of the
first refreshing happenings that occurred for the boys was the "whiffle”.
This of course was the summer haircut. It almost resembled an "induction
into the military" cut. It was
cheap, easy and lasted all summer long, until it was time to return to school
when it looked normal again.
Naturally, we
had to endure the mean name calling from the girls, like: "skinhead",
"baldy", and "scalped". But, it was all worth it, because
it was “cool” (in the true sense) and we knew we did not have to bother with
haircuts for the whole summer. However, now that I look back, I guess we did
feel a little "sheepish" for a few days after our head shaving.
Even the
neighborhood dogs got their annual trim.
My aunt Mil had a large black mongrel named "Champ" and come
June, he too would be "groomed" except for the puff of hair at the
end of his tail. Actually, “Champ” was more embarrassed with his shaved look
than the young boys were, I think. The “poor” dog would cower and hide, with
his tail between his legs, and take cover behind any object that would shield
him from public view.
We, on the
other hand, did not suffer, because we had the "cover" of numbers.
Most of the boys fought briefly against the trip to "Tony the
Barber", but, common sense regarding the aftermath prevailed. Anyway,
nearly everyone got a “whiffle”.
Tony is gone
now, but not forgotten. His shop was two
doors down from the Pleasant Cafe on
The off-limit
pinball machines "pinging away" would take our minds away from the
fact we were getting scalped. It was all a very fascinating place to a
kid. Guess it was all rather tame, but
it sure held our interest, and gave us a lot of ideas to ponder in our youthful
minds.
Our families
did things together during those summers of long ago, especially on weekends
(which consisted mostly of one day, Sunday). Those days consisted of six-day
work weeks.
After early
church services, a family could board the MTA to whisk off to exotic places
such as:
My father and
my uncle Charlie would often take me on these cruises. They drank beer out of
paper cups on the boat and at the park. My mom and aunt stayed home due to
seasickness problems.
My dad, who
worked long and hard as a painter
and a wallpaper hanger once in a great
while would take a day off and take me ( sans car) to a Boston Braves baseball game, or to the rodeo
at Boston Garden to see Gene Autry or Roy Rogers. Once, he took me to see Ted
Williams demonstrating his fly-fishing prowess at the sportsman show in
Mechanics Hall on
“You wanna
autograph, kid?” he mumbled.
“Yes sir,” I
said.
He took a
small piece of paper and wrote on it with his enormous left hand holding a
dwarfed yellow number two pencil, ”Mickey Mantle”..
My
favorite/son recollection with my dad was kite flying at the water tower, the
highest point around. My grandfather was
our weather forecaster and when he predicted nice weather with west winds, the
kite project began.
We bought
window sash wood strips from the Center hardware on
Off we went up
What lovely
places were available to us then, especially kids from the Roslindale
area. At Nantasket, we swam, ate our egg
salad sandwiches with pickles, and drank “Coke” in 8 oz bottles. Then we ran across
the street to have cotton candy, taffy apples and kisses at Joseph’s
emporium. After our fill, we got to do
all the amusement rides, like the "Whip" the "Red Mill",
the Caterpillar, the "Lindy Loop", the roller coaster, the bumper
cars and usually ended up in the "Fun House.".
My favorite
place in the park was the "Fun House". For 12 cents, you could stay
forever! Inside the large building across from the roller coaster entrance,
were three story wooden slides that you rode with furnished burlap bags. We would climb up ladders then quickly ride
down the chutes to the unavoidable collisions in a large wooden funnel at the
bottom.
It all lasted until we got home and you felt
the "sting" of the torn skin left on the wooden slide surfaces. What
fun this un-orchestrated pandemonium was; hardly like the mob scene and costly
endeavor of "
Inevitably, my
sister and I would get wicked sunburns. Those Nantasket nights were spent with
the dabbing of calamine lotion on areas of our bodies. Then, the blistering
stopped and the peeling began. I’m reminded of this shared back peeling skin
ritual every time I see primates on TV grooming themselves.
For two weeks
during my eighth summer, my best buddy Chuck and I, went to a YMCA day camp at
the ‘Blue” hills called “
After daily
morning games in the field, swimming, and nature hunts in the lush woods, we
all ate our bagged lunches. We drank cold milk provided in a pint size bottle
.I always had chocolate flavored to go with my egg salad sandwiches wrapped in
wax paper. After lunch, we rested on pine needles usually next to large tree.
A very special
memory was meeting a deaf boy, John, at camp who was a whiz at jackknife and
taught me. His jackknife had two blades and five tools. The belt hole tool was
best for “around the world” jack-knife. My neighbor in
One day, all
the campers were led by Mr. Warren Flagg and his assistant on a hike up a long
hilly pine-needle path sectioned off by railroad ties to the top of Big Blue
for a tour of the Blue Hills Weather Observatory and a wonderful view of the
local towns.
In later
years, during my youth, another of my most exciting summer events took place on
a canoe/camping /YMCA trip up the
We never got
on an airplane to go anywhere. We had it all in our "own backyard"
more than fifty years ago in Rozzie!
THE
END