One of the rites-of-passage of growing up in South Philly was participating in the "fun" of Mischief Night. Just about every kid who hung out on the streets at some time or another took the time to make the lives of neighbors and strangers alike miserable on the night of October 30th. We all looked forward to it, some talked more about this night that they did about Halloween.
Come sundown, so many of us were out on the street and ready to roll, armed with an arsenal of soap, shaving cream, and eggs. If anyone used anything else, they didn't hang around with us. I wouldn't doubt that some more-sinister characters took to using rocks or nails, or as they did in Camden or Detroit, use fire to create much more than mischief. In those cities, the appropriate name was called Devil's Night. During the worst of those years, these cities suffered terribly, losing many homes and other structures to the flames of arsonists and leaving much property destroyed; some of it to this day. But that's Camden and Detroit. We grew up in South Philly, and no such things took place here.
Some were so eager, they made shopping trips ahead of time so that they had everything they needed. You could go into any supermarket and buy dozens of eggs at any age, no questions asked. In later years, you could only purchase a dozen or two or they would flag you at the checkout line. No excuses that you were preparing well ahead of time to dye eggs for the annual Easter Egg hunt. You'd think shaving cream would raise the red flag, especially for the youngest of miscreants. Not too many 12-year olds take a razor to their faces, but even as stores got more vigilant, that was never an issue.
The police stepped up patrol from late afternoon on Mischief Night, making sure that they had a handle on things. Or so they thought. Anyone who had got caught one year found ways to prevent getting nailed the next time around. One of the tactics cops used to foil egg throwers was pat them down. Actually, it was more like slapping, ensuring a mess in their pockets. I remember a cop questioning my friends and me on where our eggs were. He wouldn't accept our telling him that we had none. With a big grin, he said, "No eggs? You guys don't have any on you right now?", and proceeded to smack our jacket and pants pockets. His grin faded as he heard no crackling or felt anything as he slapped away. Little did he know that they were sitting in the alley just a few feet from where we stood, waiting to be lobbed at windows or cars. Just to be sure, he circled the block and came back around. When he was convinced we were just hanging around, he left us alone, and we set off on doing the things stupid kids do when they think it's cool to aggravate or cause "mischief" for those around them.
Not all of the neighbors just sat and took it. Once in a while, you'd find someone who made you pay for your actions. One of our neighbors, a man named Joe - we called him Chick, a shortened version of his last name - heard them coming. A group of teens maybe 12 or 15 in all came running up Chadwick Street lobbing eggs at every window through the middle of the block. That's where Chick lived. He sprung out the door just as the last few guys ran by and grabbed one of the last of them. He told another neighbor to grab a ladder and had his wife grab a bucket and mop and other supplies and had the one unfortunate egg-thrower clean up every window that they egged. That boy was literally crying his eyes out, but Chick told him he wasn't leaving until he was done. A number of other neighbors stood with him, arms crossed, making sure he didn't bolt. The rest of us stood around for a while and gawked as some of the men mocked "Where's your friends now?" I don't know what was worse for that boy, having to clean up alone, or having to hear the guys in school the next day rib him about being the slow one who couldn't get away. We never got snagged, and no one ever saw us and told our parents of our mischief, at least not on these nights. I admit that I had caused some problems during my teen years. I suppose there is a number who are reading this who will say the same thing, even going on Mischief Night bombing runs. Then we grew up and became responsible adults. Well, most have. For a few, the mischief is gone, but grasping responsibility was a hard thing to handle.
It seems Mischief Night is just a memory now, and that's a good thing. What seems fun as a kid is seen as foolish as you get older, especially if your property is marred by the nastiness. I'd be angry if some kid ran by and chucked an orb at my house, or scrawled with soap on my car window. I think the supermarket crackdowns were the beginning of the end of mischief night. The first few years, kids would buy ahead of time. But you can't stack dozens of eggs in the fridge without arousing your parents' suspicions. And you can't hide lots of cartons in your room without it being too cold in there. What to do? Well, not much. So the tradition dies out. Up through the '90s, a number of men would sit outside our church on this night to prevent damage, and we would see kids pass by with a look that said they were up to something. Today, no one even thinks about it. It's a non-issue. I suppose it wouldn't be wise for parents to tell their kids about their exploits, tempting them to take up the tradition, at least with just a dozen or two eggs. To do so would risk taking a beating or worse these days. But for those of us who took part in the mischief, we had a lot of laughs. Well, it was funny at the time. Thankfully, we grew up - and times have changed.
Showing posts with label Neighbors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neighbors. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 30, 2019
Saturday, June 29, 2019
Summer Nights: When Neighbors Sat Out and Talked to Each Other
I'm going with something new for this week's post. Thinking back on how things once were gave me the motivation to write something about the way things were.
B.B.
You would never know it today, but there was once a time when we sat outside in the evenings and talked with neighbors. Never mind sitting inside in the air-conditioning and watching TV all night. There wasn't that much on with summer reruns and cable TV was in it's infancy back in the 70s. We were the test area for the city in this area of South Philly, so we had more choices. But it wasn't that much more, just two stations from NYC and no need for an antenna. Premium channels came later. Nor were there home computers, smart phones, or gaming systems. Things were much simpler and the only things people were addicted to were drugs and alcohol, not electronics. Someone might have a radio with the ballgame on, but the conversation still dominated the times outside.
Back during those times, you could often find your neighbors outside during the evening hours, and even later at night during the weekends. Some would be sitting on their front steps, while others had beach chairs that sat in the living room by day and came out after dinnertime.And yes we even sat out on nights with heat and humidity. Once fall came, those beach chairs would be stowed away in the basement until the next year when they were dusted or hosed off when the next summer came around.
Walking down the street, you would sometimes have to go around a group of neighbors sitting in a gaggle in front of someone's home. There may be two or three on the steps, and another few sitting in chairs on the sidewalks. Everyone was friendly: If you were walking down a block that was unfamiliar to you, you would more-than likely get a smile and a hello from those you'd see outside.
The pizza joints were always busy in the summer. Neighbors often ordered a couple of pies, pitching-in together or someone feeling generous and bought for everyone. And so we sat out having slices, even later at night. One of our favorites was the now long-gone DiFabio's Pizza and bread bakers on the 1200 block of Snyder Avenue. When they closed, the Pizza Shack became the new go-to place for us, especially since they were just a block away. We had one neighbor who worked for Coca-Cola so there was never a lack of something to drink as long as it was a Coke product. And age didn't matter. The kids and the older folks got along and got together.
It's a lot different today. From my younger years, I knew most of the neighbors by name and was friendly with most. Not everyone - there were some neighbors who were too busy to socialize or just not the sociable-type. In a block where there's fifty or more homes, its impossible to know everyone.
There are so many new neighbors now. I've lived on this block most of my life with the exception of eight years after marriage when we bought a home in another neighborhood. My wife and I rented then sold it after my father passed away and my mother had difficulty going it alone. We moved back to be a help to her and things went well; no wife/mother-in-law conflict here. But much time has passed and many older neighbors have either moved on or passed away. Some down this end of the block have been here many years and we know each other well. There are a few long-time neighbors further further who you don't see much because they're inside more often than not, which is how it's been for me lately.
People have got to make time to know each other. In the spring and summer, I sit out when I can and try to greet new neighbors when I see them. It doesn't take much effort to say hello and to introduce yourself. Some are very friendly. I know of one younger woman who's new to the block and always stops to talk with my wife and I, and another man who I rarely see but is always cordial when I do see him. But there have been those who seem to come and go and not care to make acquaintance or conversation.
Maybe we should get back to the old block party as a way to get to know each other as much as for some fun. We had them decades ago and they went well because everyone knew each other. Perhaps having them as a way of introduction would work well. Hey, we live in homes that are butted up against each other. Let's get to know the people that we live on the block with and not just exist with them.
AND YOU MAY REMEMBER...
* Kids irritating some of the older neighbors on the block, playing football or dinky and them complaining that you were going to break a window or other damage. I remember one man - the Coke man mentioned earlier - who yelled that we could hurt someone and should go to the park, but we told him that it was just a Nerf football and it was safe. Not five minutes later, my cousin punted and hit him in the back of the head. Then he really read us the riot act. Still, things would calm down quickly and we'd be playing in the street again. Until the next time.
* When neighbors took up a collection for flowers when another one died. No one would ever think about them holding back on some of the cash. The flowers were always there at the funeral home or delivered to the home of the deceased person's family.
* You'd have to be a really long-time neighbor, remembering when Ray "Pole" angered neighbors by painting "yard lines" (no one knew what he really measured) in the street for football games, or casting his fishing line down the block and hitting some cars with its sinkers, maddening car owners. Ray was about six-foot-seven and skinny; earning him the nickname. A military son who didn't spend much time in one place, he often did odd things to try to make friends. Sadly, Ray died in a jail cell, hanging himself after a minor arrest. True or not, it's said that he had only two inches between his feet and the cell floor. It should never have happened. He was a really nice guy.
* Neighbors banding together in 1976 before the Bicentennial, painting anything available - fire hydrants, poles, the street, manhole covers - either red, white, and blue or with things like the Liberty Bell and American flags. The whole city seemed to be covered in Americana.
* Everyone remembers when neighbors took pride in their block and kept it almost spotless. The housewives of the day would be outside on many mornings with a bucketful of ammonia and water, cleaning the steps and sidewalk after sweeping up the grime. Now people come out once a tear on a Saturday that the city designates.
* You'll have to talk with someone much older than I am about sleeping outside on summer nights or going to bed without locking the doors, but I've been told often that it's the way things were done in the days before AC.
B.B.
You would never know it today, but there was once a time when we sat outside in the evenings and talked with neighbors. Never mind sitting inside in the air-conditioning and watching TV all night. There wasn't that much on with summer reruns and cable TV was in it's infancy back in the 70s. We were the test area for the city in this area of South Philly, so we had more choices. But it wasn't that much more, just two stations from NYC and no need for an antenna. Premium channels came later. Nor were there home computers, smart phones, or gaming systems. Things were much simpler and the only things people were addicted to were drugs and alcohol, not electronics. Someone might have a radio with the ballgame on, but the conversation still dominated the times outside.
Back during those times, you could often find your neighbors outside during the evening hours, and even later at night during the weekends. Some would be sitting on their front steps, while others had beach chairs that sat in the living room by day and came out after dinnertime.And yes we even sat out on nights with heat and humidity. Once fall came, those beach chairs would be stowed away in the basement until the next year when they were dusted or hosed off when the next summer came around.
Walking down the street, you would sometimes have to go around a group of neighbors sitting in a gaggle in front of someone's home. There may be two or three on the steps, and another few sitting in chairs on the sidewalks. Everyone was friendly: If you were walking down a block that was unfamiliar to you, you would more-than likely get a smile and a hello from those you'd see outside.
The pizza joints were always busy in the summer. Neighbors often ordered a couple of pies, pitching-in together or someone feeling generous and bought for everyone. And so we sat out having slices, even later at night. One of our favorites was the now long-gone DiFabio's Pizza and bread bakers on the 1200 block of Snyder Avenue. When they closed, the Pizza Shack became the new go-to place for us, especially since they were just a block away. We had one neighbor who worked for Coca-Cola so there was never a lack of something to drink as long as it was a Coke product. And age didn't matter. The kids and the older folks got along and got together.
It's a lot different today. From my younger years, I knew most of the neighbors by name and was friendly with most. Not everyone - there were some neighbors who were too busy to socialize or just not the sociable-type. In a block where there's fifty or more homes, its impossible to know everyone.
There are so many new neighbors now. I've lived on this block most of my life with the exception of eight years after marriage when we bought a home in another neighborhood. My wife and I rented then sold it after my father passed away and my mother had difficulty going it alone. We moved back to be a help to her and things went well; no wife/mother-in-law conflict here. But much time has passed and many older neighbors have either moved on or passed away. Some down this end of the block have been here many years and we know each other well. There are a few long-time neighbors further further who you don't see much because they're inside more often than not, which is how it's been for me lately.
People have got to make time to know each other. In the spring and summer, I sit out when I can and try to greet new neighbors when I see them. It doesn't take much effort to say hello and to introduce yourself. Some are very friendly. I know of one younger woman who's new to the block and always stops to talk with my wife and I, and another man who I rarely see but is always cordial when I do see him. But there have been those who seem to come and go and not care to make acquaintance or conversation.
Maybe we should get back to the old block party as a way to get to know each other as much as for some fun. We had them decades ago and they went well because everyone knew each other. Perhaps having them as a way of introduction would work well. Hey, we live in homes that are butted up against each other. Let's get to know the people that we live on the block with and not just exist with them.
AND YOU MAY REMEMBER...
* Kids irritating some of the older neighbors on the block, playing football or dinky and them complaining that you were going to break a window or other damage. I remember one man - the Coke man mentioned earlier - who yelled that we could hurt someone and should go to the park, but we told him that it was just a Nerf football and it was safe. Not five minutes later, my cousin punted and hit him in the back of the head. Then he really read us the riot act. Still, things would calm down quickly and we'd be playing in the street again. Until the next time.
* When neighbors took up a collection for flowers when another one died. No one would ever think about them holding back on some of the cash. The flowers were always there at the funeral home or delivered to the home of the deceased person's family.
* You'd have to be a really long-time neighbor, remembering when Ray "Pole" angered neighbors by painting "yard lines" (no one knew what he really measured) in the street for football games, or casting his fishing line down the block and hitting some cars with its sinkers, maddening car owners. Ray was about six-foot-seven and skinny; earning him the nickname. A military son who didn't spend much time in one place, he often did odd things to try to make friends. Sadly, Ray died in a jail cell, hanging himself after a minor arrest. True or not, it's said that he had only two inches between his feet and the cell floor. It should never have happened. He was a really nice guy.
* Neighbors banding together in 1976 before the Bicentennial, painting anything available - fire hydrants, poles, the street, manhole covers - either red, white, and blue or with things like the Liberty Bell and American flags. The whole city seemed to be covered in Americana.
* Everyone remembers when neighbors took pride in their block and kept it almost spotless. The housewives of the day would be outside on many mornings with a bucketful of ammonia and water, cleaning the steps and sidewalk after sweeping up the grime. Now people come out once a tear on a Saturday that the city designates.
* You'll have to talk with someone much older than I am about sleeping outside on summer nights or going to bed without locking the doors, but I've been told often that it's the way things were done in the days before AC.
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