Life in the Ville by Jimmy Del Ponte

(The opinions and views expressed in the commentaries of The Somerville Times belong solely to the authors of those commentaries and do not reflect the views or opinions of The Somerville Times, its staff or publishers)

I hope you enjoy this story by my friend Anthony Accardi Jr.

Another summer is winding down and soon we will be moving onto fall and then … ugh, winter. I can’t help but remember growing up on Heath St. and the all the fun my friends and I had during the summertime. Thinking back, it always seemed like it was the summer. Except for sledding down Heath St. and of course the Blizzard of ’78, I can hardly remember it ever being cold and miserable. Since I absolutely hate the winter, maybe I have blocked most of those memories out. Or maybe like most childhood memories, it was just a time when it always seemed like summertime.

I grew up on the lower end of Heath St. (near Temple St.) in the Winter Hill section of Somerville. The house I grew up in was opposite Langmaid Ave. Back then between these two streets there was a tremendous amount of kids whose ages varied from toddlers to teenagers. My friends were Val DePerrio, Barry Norton and Shawn Sullivan. My other friend Mike Beliveau lived on Temple St., but hung out with us Heath and Langmaid kids. On Langmaid Ave. we had the Repettos, the Romanos, the Dello Russos and the Aiellos. On Heath St, we had the Chiarellos, the Carnazzos (lots and lots of Carnazzos), the Calisis, the Schepicis, the Debenedettos and the Carciones. You know, we didn’t have any electronic games, hand-held devices or iPhones but we always found something to keep us occupied and we always had fun.

During the days we mostly went to the beach. My mom took us on the bus and the subway to Revere Beach. We would lug two weeks worth of food and kool-aid on the bus and train. We would spread a blanket on the sand and stay there all day. We’d leave at 9 a.m. and be back home so my mom could have supper on the table for us by 5:30 p.m. Other times we would take the 101 Salem St. bus to Medford Sq. and then take the Hudson Bus Lines to Wrights Pond in Medford. Back then you could walk right onto that beach, but now I hear you have to show proof that you reside in Medford. If someone with a car was available, we would to go Mystic Lakes. No matter what beach we went to, we had too much to eat, too much sun and too much playing in the water – but never a complaint about it. We slept like babies at night and were ready to do it all over again the next day.

At night we would all gather on my front steps after supper to decide on what we would do for the evening. Sometimes we would play ball tag or have water balloon fights. Sometimes we would just sit on someone’s front steps and get into very intense discussions that sometimes turned into arguments. We discussed what cars we wanted to have once we got our drivers licenses or what was the most scariest carnival ride we ever went on or the most impressive thing our dads ever did. My favorite memory of summer nights on Heath St. was playing hide and go seek. We would play every night and all the generations of kids participated. The home base (if I remember correctly we would call it “the goose”) was the telephone pole that’s in front of my house. We would hide in the most oddest places. Because of this, some of the rounds lasted a very long time. We would hide on the roof of the old Belotti Olds or sometimes we would hide in backyards as far away as Jacques St. or even Bond St. No matter where we hid, chances are we had to cut through someone’s backyard. We interrupted many cookouts and startled many of the neighbors as they relaxed on their back porches.

In between playing games at night, we would take a break and walk up to the 350 Food Mart on Broadway to get some type of cool refreshment. A bottle of tonic, a popsicle, or perhaps a slush puppie was the remedy for those hot summer nights. The ice cream man would arrive between 7:00 and 7:30 p.m. At that time most of our parents had gathered on someone’s front steps to gab, smoke cigarettes and drink coffee. One year we even had a doughnut truck – yes a doughnut truck. It was a step van (similar to a mail truck) that was painted orange. It had fresh doughnuts and coffee. It usually came about an hour after the ice cream man. My front steps were a common meeting place for both the kids and the parents. My grandmother supplied coffee and enough snacks to feed half the street. We played hide and go seek and the parents gabbed the night away. Our parents knew where we were and everyone had fun. It all worked out.

Now the kids on my street are gone. Most of us have married and moved away. Had we all stayed, we could have provided my old neighborhood with another generation of kids to keep the street young, noisy and vibrant. However I don’t think it would have been the same. Kids no longer play outside. They don’t “come calling each other” to play like we did. Now they have “play dates” where they will spend an hour playing X-Box or some other silly and mindless electronic game. Growing up on Heath St. back in the late 60’s and 70’s was a time that can never be duplicated. It was a time filled with memories of things we did and the people that we did them with. When visiting my parents on Heath St. (they are still there), I can’t help but look around and realize how the street looks the same. The only thing missing is the sound of children playing, making lots of noise and probably annoying someone looking for some peace and quiet.

— Anthony Accardi Jr.