Summit Grove Park

THE STORY:

This is one part of growing up in Rochester, New York (circa. 1950-70) that seems to have a grasp on some fond memories of mine. Summit Grove Park is a narrow sliver of a neighborhood park when I see it today on Google Satellite view. It almost looks too small to do anything other than watch trees the grow.

However "back in the day" I believe it was a bit wider and the streets on both sides a bit narrower because it was the center attraction for a small army of baby-boomer kids to play tons of pre-teen games for hour upon hour. We seemed to have plenty of room and seldom broke any house windows (at least that we were caught for).

Yep, this was a time without computers, iphones/pads, x-boxes and most anything else other than a few basic "toys" and our own imaginations. We were outside running around, playing games, arguing and laughing most of our waking hours. Looking back I can say it was a glorious time to be a kid!




E-MAIL:

Yes - another poem from Jim -

I'm not sure why this boiled down to a poem about a game of marbles. I can't remember any specific game, but I do remember spending a whole lot of time in that small park playing tons of games with tons of kids. I recall capture the flag because the big tree at the east end of the park was one goal and the next big tree in the middle, down about 25 yards was the other. The center line was drawn across the park using two smaller trees almost exactly half way in between. That seemed to be a pretty hotly contested event.
I do recall risking my marble collection and sometimes coming home with a little bit lighter can from the losses. Marbles were quite beautiful and marvelous "toys" because of the colors, patterns and size variations and I hated loosing any of them.
I also remember playing "Movie Stars" on the steps in front of the McCarthy/Tracy house.

Do any of you remember special things about that park??
Love ya,


POEM:

Marbles For Keeps

for the Tracy, McCarthy and Pickworth families

05/20/11

Coffee cans rattle and click with each hurried stride

holding Aggie shooters and shiny Steelies inside,

cat’s eyes, solids and crystals colored orange, lemon and lime

all for two weeks allowance at Woolworth’s five and dime

a silent call to arms brings the neighborhood together

with similar glassy clanks and clatters.

A gang of broad ages behaving like family

at odds over game rules and results quite madly

In the dead center of Summit Grove Park

we played by street light ‘till well after dark

battlefield drawn where the grass wore away

by a thousand footsteps from kids at play

games of baseball, tag and capture the flag wars

between tall red oaks, maples and sycamores

no place for fresh brushed hair and neatly pressed clothes

just slit-knee jeans and Converse sneaks with flappy soles

The coarsely scratched circle in the most clear spot,

a hand full of treasured glass now a wagered lot,

throwing rock-paper-scissors to choose shooting order,

then down on two knees to watch the crude border

Taking turns to flick your Steelie on course

any marble bashed victims knocked out were yours

This was “Marbles For Keeps” as we used to say

Now I’ve lost my marbles but still want to play.