Life in the Ville by Jimmy Del Ponte

In 1965 I was 12 years old. We were still the new family on my street having moved there in 1960. My street was full of families with kids. On a typical summer night there were at least 20 kids playing Buck Buck, Red Rover or Relieve-E-O in someone’s driveway or right in the middle of the street. I was never taller than about 5 foot 7, so I learned early to befriend bigger and tougher friends.

There was one particular bully on my street who teased my little brother relentlessly. He referred to him as “fruity” which really ticked me off. He was obnoxious.

I had a cousin who was three years older than me and lived near The Western Junior High School. His parents always bought him the coolest jackets, belts and most of all, black leather engineer boots. A lot of the stuff came from Micky Finn’s in Davis Square. When he outgrew those neat clothes, I got them. I had two pairs of his old engineer boots and I loved them. We also got my cousin’s bikes when they got new ones. Another cool thing about having an older cousin was that he was pretty tough. He hung around with the black leather jacket wearing kids with slicked back hair and pegged pants.

When that bully on my street (my mother gave him the perfect nick name of “Jerko!”) got out of hand, I had to call my cousin over. On the old Leave it to Beaver Show, when Wally talked about taking care of a kid that was bothering them, they’d use the term “fix.” Wally was going to “fix” Eddie Haskell for picking on Beaver. Well, I had to call my cousin to come over and “fix” Jerko. And over he came! It was great!

My cousin challenged Jerko to a friendly wrestling match on our friend “Jello’s” front lawn. All the kids on my street gathered to watch my cousin fix Jerko. He flipped him to the ground three times. No punching, no kicking, no blood. Just a few flips, and a couple of gentle body slams. Like it was yesterday I can still hear my cousin saying, “Come on! One more time for old time’s sake!” And I vividly remember Jerko saying, “No thanks” and backing away, all the way into his backyard. He never called my little brother fruity again and he stopped bothering us. By the way, Jerko had at least 5 inches and 30 pounds on my cousin.

There was also the time I got into a beef with a guy on a flight from Bermuda to Logan Airport and my cousin was at the gate waiting for us. Thankfully, me and my airline enemy became friends during the flight back but it was calming knowing my cousin showed up for me.

Fast forward to 1992 and me and my then girlfriend were in Disney World in Orlando. Guess who we bumped into? None other than Jerko himself and his girlfriend. He pulled me aside and asked me not to mention to his two young kids (who we were friendly with) that I saw him. File under, “Still Jerko after all these years!”

My cousin really took care of us back then. Although my older sister kept an eye on me and my brother, it was good to have my older, tougher cousin in my corner. Today, he’s a good dad and grandfather and we’re still in touch.

I still have many close friends who know we are always there for each other if needed. That’s my Somerville.

And this was just one story from the good old days growing up in Somerville.