Stratton Park Message Board

I had posted this at the end of another thread, but I'm moving it to it's own because for some reason my fellow hitcher's name demands to crawl out of the back of my head and reveal himself, but he needs help from the website.

Like many of the other blocks in the neighborhood, the kids at the top of Taylor Ave. used to love to, how shall I say, take a free ride on the seltzer delivery truck. We'd hide between parked cars until the driver got back into his truck, then jump on the sides and back to "hitch" a ride. A group of us did that one time near my building at 1576 Taylor, and as the driver was making his turn onto Tremont, one of the side "passengers" lost his grip, did a back-flip and landed on his head cracking it open like a watermellon. I think Tremont might have still been cobblestone in parts at that time. Anyway my unfortunate friend fractured his skull and knocked himself out. The street was full of adults and sector cars in what seemed like seconds, and all of the free-riders took off like thieves in the night. As I dropped down the staircase into my safety zone of the alleys and basements, just before I disappeared from sight I heard a sixth floor neighbor scream from her window, "I saw you Eddie, and I'm telling your Dad what you did." I knew I was screwed, but I hid out in the basement as long as I could until my own hunger betrayed me, then I went home to one of the top ten beatings of my childhood.

Can anyone help me remember who fractured his skull on the corner of Taylor and Tremont? His diving style was very good, probably about a 9, or 9.5, his legs were straight and unbent, he kept his knees together and turned nicely in the air, but his entry was terrible, a COMPLETE ZERO!

Eddie..the only kid I remember falling off a truck was Richie Burke...Richie was "hitching" on the back of a Spotless Cleaners truck and fell off IFO 102 park...

JohnT

Eddie and John: I can't chip in on this one but can give you a twist. A group of us, unmentionable of course, used to play curb ball at the Corner of Beach and Guerlain. Poor Mr. and Mrs. Shanley and Mrs. Castorina whose kitchen windows were in spaldeen range. Hitting them were home runs. Usually around 6:30, after dinner, we would get together and choose up sides and start playing. Cars comming down Beach Avenue would slow down and we would, of course, politely step aside to let the cars go by. Once in awhile we came across a onerous driver, with a thin layer of patience, and as the car came by one of us would slap the rear fender and then lay in the street, as if hit by the car. The rest of the group would start yelling, you hit him, you hit him. The panic stricken driver would stop and get out of the car to see the travesty. As the stricken curb ball player was approached by the driver, he would get up and we'd all run down Guerlain laughing our heads off. After a few minutes it was "Play Ball" hopefully with no further inpatient intruders to cause feigned accidents. Have a good day, stay cool. Love, Peace and Happiness. Matt Keenan.