Ice Skating at Reservoir Park

Photo Credit: IPFW ContentDM

I looked far and wide for a picture of the Reservoir Park Ice Skating Pond - the one that *I knew* and experienced however, I didn't have any pictures in my own collection and a web search yielded very few results.

I picked this picture (yes, even though it is from almost 100 years ago) because it comes close to how I remember the place that my mother used to take me and my sister skating to. I remember the "big hill" (which is what I called it), the crowds of people (young and not so young), and the odd shape of the ice pond. I even had my own pair of ice skates! No rentals for me!

I've never talked to my mom about Reservoir Park - if she went there often as a child - but I got the distinct feeling that she had been there a lot. She was very comfortable with where everything was and when we first stepped out on the ice (one hand each in her hands), I felt like I was with a pro.

She glided across the pond with ease. Me - not so much. I fell. Lots of times. She would tell me - Kris, you need to bend your knees a little bit. Don't stand so stiff. It's advice my husband STILL repeats today and advice that my body still ignores (thus the number of times I still manage to land on my butt - not while ice skating but while navigating the ice outdoors). By the way - my sister Patty was a pro also. She's always been WAY more coordinated than me. Ice skating, gymnastics, cheerleading. Yep. She inherited my mom's coordination gene.

When I think about Reservoir Park and ice skating with my mom and sister, I am reminded of something that I purposely ignored in my teen years (and later in my adult life).

My mom - who had me when she was seventeen - no high school diploma - second child within 11 months of me - married to a man who didn't have a high school diploma and many times - not even employed - worked at KMart and at other places...well...she really did a lot for me and my sister. She made sure that we experienced Fort Wayne - probably - in all of the ways that she had. But of course she was working with a budget of practically ZERO.

And for that, I am grateful. Even if I forget to tell her :).

The Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present

I was chatting with someone just a few days ago. I asked them what their plans were for Christmas and they asked me mine.

Oh...how times have changed.

When I was little, my grandparents were the center of the universe and wherever they were - that's where Christmas was.

Initially, Christmas was at the apartment building - 808 Clay Street.

(Pictured: Wayne E. Roy, Irene Roy, Kristina Frazier, Frank Frazier, Patricia S. Frazier - Christmas 1967)

Everyone - my Aunts (Carolyn and Barb), their husbands (Jim and Bob), and my parents, plus me, my sister, and eventually my two cousins - Wendy and Cindy...we all gathered here and celebrated Christmas.

Church was a priority. My great-grandmother (Helena Starost Roy Kline) was a devout catholic and my Grandpa and his three daughters were obedient attenders of catholic mass - especially on Christmas. Cathedral was just a hop, skip and a jump away - which was good because we could walk there and back from the apartment building.

As you can see from this picture, my grandpa is dressed up. This was his "Sunday suit" - or at least that is what I called it. He wasn't one to wear fancy things - but you could count on the suit coming out for Christmas, Easter, weddings, funerals, and baptisms :).

My grandma wasn't much of a church goer. She would stay behind - busying herself in the kitchen. You could always count on pleasant smells (and sometimes unusual as my grandma was known to stray from the typical Christmas feast).

My grandparents moved to Jackson, Michigan sometime in the early 70's.

Even though my family (and Aunt Carolyn's) was in Fort Wayne and Aunt Barb's was in Elkhart - it was never doubted that we would all travel up to Jackson, Michigan and celebrate Christmas together as a family.

(Pictured: Kristina Frazier, Patricia J. Frazier, Cindy Baughman, Wendy Welker - Christmas 1975)

We would usually drive up the day / night before so that my mom and aunt's could help my grandma with all of the cooking.

Grandpa liked to sit in his big, overstuffed brown recliner chair, watching his black and white television, smoking his cigar.

The four cousins - well - we had an absolute blast! I have to tell you that only having one sibling at the time (my sister) was boring and frustrating. Getting to hang with Cindy and Wendy was awesome because it was fresh blood to pick on! Normally though, we'd play board games, dress- up, go out side and sled, etc....There was never a time where we sat around and asked to go home. Being at grandma and grandpa's house was always awesome.

This is where I distinctly remember the grown-ups and kids table. The grown-ups sat around the dining room table and the four girls - well - we got our own table. It was a 4 x 4 card table with folding chairs to boot.

(Pictured: Patricia S. Frazier, Frank Frazier - Christmas dining room table, 1975)

Some other traditions that stand out for me - my grandma allowing us to pick one ornament from the tree to take home and my grandpa getting on the floor and handing out the gifts, one by one. As a kid whose family struggled to make ends meet, Christmas was the motherload from a gift perspective. The night before we opened gifts - none of us girls could hardly sleep.

In the late 70's, my grandparents moved back to Fort Wayne and they lived in the Sheridan Court Apartments on Union Street.

(Pictured: Kristina Frazier, Frank Frazier, Patricia S. Frazier, Patricia J. Frazier, Jason Frazier - Christmas 1978)

This was the very last Christmas that we would spend together as a family unit - that is - me, my siblings, and my parents. My parents split up a month after this and everything in our lives changed.

Despite my parents divorce (and my two aunt's all divorcing and re-marrying), my grandparents had this unspoken thing about keeping the Christmas tradition alive.

In the early eighties, they moved to a house on Third Street. And even though I was in high school and my sister, and cousins were also moving up into "that age", the Christmas tradition was not to be messed with.

The main difference about the house on Third Street is that instead of just visiting it, I also lived there for a period of time. It didn't ruin my excitement about seeing everyone and by this time, I was starting to like some of my grandma's weird food selections :).

(Pictured: Kristina Frazier, Cindy Wilkins, Wendy Welker, Patty Frazier - Christmas 1985)

This picture here - is extremely precious to me. It's the very last photo of me, my sister, and my two cousins...taken with my grandfather. Five months later, he would become very ill and less than a year after that, he died.

Christmas has not been the same since.

My grandma lost the spring in her step and eventually, we all drifted away.

There have been a couple times that an effort has been made for all of us to get together.


(Pictured: Cyndi Wilkins, Kristina Frazier - Christmas, 1994?)

But most of the time, it doesn't happen. Some of it had to do with the strain in the relationships between sisters (my mom and two aunts) and sometimes it was just a question of other obligations and/or distance that some lived away from Fort Wayne.

To be quite honest, there have been several times - holiday or not holiday - where I have chosen not to take part in a family get together because of my own anxiety. Since the death of my grandfather and the multiple changes that my cousins have gone through - I just don't know how to "be" around them. For years, my sister, Cindy, and Wendy - we were glue for each other...Through the second round of siblings (ugh - all boys!), to the divorce of our parents (and their subsequent remarriages). The multiple moves, the multiple dysfunctions of the family (i.e. drugs, alcohol, domestic violence, sexual abuse, depression...). The boyfriends, the jobs, the cars, the booze...

Now, it is as if we don't even know each other.

So you remember, at the beginning of this entry, I said that I was chatting with someone about what our plans were for the Christmas holiday...

After I told this person what I was doing, all of these memories came flooding back to me (in about a span of four seconds). I remember writing to her, "it's bizarre how relationships change over time". That was my way to acknowledge that my Christmas has a definite hole in it. The absence of my grandfather, the silent treatment from my father, and the evaporated relationships that used to be - Me, Patty, Cindy, Wendy.

Marlene's Dance Studio

Marlene's Dance Studio
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

There were many reasons why I loved living and growing up on the south side of Fort Wayne.

Things were not so (I'm looking for the right word)...'corporate' and 'big'.

There were many small business owners not only for retail but also for services. I don't know if my parents consciously patronized small business owners, but it seemed like we did a lot of that thing back in my childhood.

One of my stories from last month (http://childofthefort.blogspot.com/2008/10/imagination-can-alter-life.html) explained how me, my sister, and my friend Erika, became interested in stuff like tap and gymnastics.

And sometime in 1972, we began lessons over at Marlene's Dance Studio.

Who was Marlene?

I didn't really know back then. When I started to look into writing this blog entry, I became curious and I looked through a lot of stuff, trying to piece things together.

Unfortunately, it was her obituary that gave me the most background information about her. Marlene Huntley died in March 2002 at the age of 63. She was originally from Bay City, Michigan and had worked at Hall's on Bluffton Road as a waitress for several years.

I don't know if she had a professional dance background or how she decided to open up her own dance studio. I also don't know when her studio shut down or how her life played out (with the exception of what the obituary told me). I guess yet another mystery that will go unanswered...

Marlene's dance studio was located - get this - on West Dewald Street.

West Dewald is perhaps - not the hot, happenin' area that it once was, but back then, the neighborhood was clean, safe, and full of kids who rode their bikes and played kickball and dodgeball in the street. I haven't been back in that area for over 30 years - I wonder what it's like today???

Marlene didn't have a fancy dance studio. Nope. She used her house for lessons. It looked like the area that would have been her living room was completely ripped up/redone to look like a dance studio. There were hardwood floors, a mirror that stretched from ceiling to floor and covered an entire wall. There was one of those ballet bars fastened to the wall where the mirror was. She had tons of vinyl and one giant/loud record player that was quite awesome to six/seven year olds...

Note: Thanks to Scott Howard for locating Marlene's house on google street maps....it barely resembles the place I used to visit 2 times a week.



My mother signed me and Patty up for tap and acrobatics (aka gymnastics). Tap was my thing. Gymnastics - not so much. I think it was because I was tall and lanky and not very bendy :).

After school, my mom used to make the three of us (me, Patty, Erika), practices our new hobby on our enclosed front porch. During the winter time, it was really cold so we would start out with our winter coats on.

I think if anyone would have seen Erika doing a back bend with her big old parka coat on, they would have had a giggle. She was challenged with the hood (always) and we had quite a debate on whether the hood (with the furry stuff on the outside of it) should be up or down. Down guaranteed major repercussions including accidentally smacking yourself in the head (with the hood) on the way back up from the back bend or with it up, you risked major static cling (thanks to the Indiana winters - dry dry dry climate).

I guess if my parents would have just heated the area - this would have taken away the whole parka dilemma :).

We knew that when it was time for Gilligan's Island, we were done practicing on the front porch and we could come in to watch Marianne, Ginger, and the Professor.

Imagination Can Alter A Life

My sister Patty, me, and Ericka, used to spend a lot of time outdoors goofing off. When we were together (and maybe with other kids in the neighborhood) we would play the usual games of tag, red rover, ghost in the grave yard, and hide-n-go-seek.

But sometimes, there were no other kids to play with and when left to our own devices, we always managed to figure something out. In other words - boredom wasn't even in our vocabulary.



For example, while waiting for Selsa to drop off Ericka at my house one day, I stood outside and walked the curb of our street. I practiced putting one foot in front of another - like I was a gymnast walking on a balance beam. I'm sure that I had seen something like this on ABC Wide World of Sports - my whole goal at that time though - was to just pass time until Ericka got to my house.

Over time, using the curb as our balance beam became one of our games. We would judge each other - pretend that we were losing our balance - pretend that we were the most graceful girls that ever were. Sometimes, we danced on our balance beam.

I have no clue how it happened, but the next thing I knew, my mom and Selsa, had signed me, Ericka, and Patty up for classes with Marlene's Dance Studio.

We were enrolled in gymnastics and tap. While Patty and Ericka were much better at the gymnastics part, I was a total genius in the tap area.

Gymnastics significantly altered both Patty and Ericka's life. They both went on and excelled in gymnastics, receiving huge accolades in the form of awards and state recognitions.

And it all started - on the curb of Cedar Crest Circle. Who would have thought?!

Patty, Reading Readiness, and Mrs. Ann Ballinger

My sister Patty - Patricia Joanne Frazier - was born approximately 11 months after me (September 13, 1967).

Patty Jo - well - we were (and are) two totally different beings. Her - with her blond hair and blue eyes - me with my reddish-brown hair and brown eyes. She was petite. I was tall. She was artistic. I was "bookish". We shared a room for many years and let me tell you - that was both a curse and a blessing (but more on that later).

For her half-day of Kindergarten, Patty had Miss Crouse (soon to be Mrs. Ludwig). I made the assumption that when Patty moved to first grade, she would have Mrs. Lawson too (like I had). But when we went to pick up our information packets from school, I learned that she was going to be in Ms. Ballinger's class.

As a seven year old, I knew three things about Mrs. Ballinger. First, she was a tall, thin lady with dark dark hair. Second, her classroom was all the way over there and she didn't have as many students as some of the other teachers. Third, the woman was obsessed with bears. As in the stuffed kind.

When I scanned the information directory (a black, felt board, encased in class, located right inside the front entrance), it said that Mrs. Ballinger was a "Reading Readiness" teacher.

Huh? Reading Readiness?! Yep. It was explained to me that this was a grade which was between Kindergarten and First Grade where kids who had difficulty with some of the basics - phonics, reading, etc...were placed so that they could have an extra year of intensive attention dedicated to bringing them up to snuff.

My sister thrived in Reading Readiness. Mrs. Ballinger was just what she needed.

Through the extra and intensive 1:1 time with her teacher, we learned that she had dyslexia (although I'm not sure if in the early 70's - they called it that).

In addition, Mrs. Ballinger figured out that my sister was an artist and she somehow facilitated an opportunity for my sister to gain additional instruction through the Fort Wayne Arts School. It must have been free because there would have been no way that my family could have afforded to pay for it.

Two days a week, my mother would drive my sister over to the school (I think it was Wednesday after school and Saturday mornings). The building pictured here was a familiar site for me as I always had to ride along.

Truth be told, I was a little jealous that my sister was getting all of this attention. I couldn't even color within the lines and here she was, whipping out these masterpieces which were oooooed and awwwweeeedddd by adults everywhere.

Even today, I am still completely envious of how she can hand sketch a mural on the bedroom wall of one of her kid's room's. The results are always beautiful and I curse the heavens for not blessing me with the same talent. And just to be clear - I can now color within the lines...I just choose NOT TO :).

When I went back to Indian Village in May 2008 to visit, I learned that Mrs. Ballinger had passed away in 2003. When the school underwent remodeling, they created a mural to honor her.

As I looked at it, I smiled. And then I thought about my sister. She was incredibly lucky to be in a school system which recongized that she needed extra assistance before entering first grade. And then, to have a special teacher like Ann Ballinger - that was the icing on the cake. That woman was far ahead of her time. Her individualized approach to solving the challenge of - why is this child having difficulty reading was just so rare. The impact she made on students like my sister - that's a legacy we'd be all lucky to leave behind.

**********************************************

ANN D. BALLINGER, 74, of Fort Wayne, died Monday, Dec. 1, 2003, at Lutheran Hospital. Born Aug. 22, 1929, in Logansport, she was a 1951 graduate of Ball State with a Masters degree from St. Francis University. Mrs. Ballinger was a Fort Wayne Community Schools teacher, who taught for 40 years, retiring in 2000. She began teaching in New Castle, in 1951, and moved to Fort Wayne, in 1952. She taught at Old Lakeside Elementary, Ward Elementary, Lafayette Center Elementary, Waynedale Elementary and Indian Village Elementary . She was Secretary for the American Association of University Women, Secretary of the Fort Wayne Womens Club, a member of the Local, State and National Reading Associations, Local, State and National Retired Teachers Associations, Coordinator of Project Read at Indian Village School, and a member of Phi Delta Kappa Educational Fraternity. She is survived by her husband, Norman H. Ballinger of Fort Wayne; sons, John S. Ballinger of Fort Wayne, Steven K. Ballinger of San Francisco, Calif.; granddaughter, Lauren Ballinger, of San Francisco; and brother, William Reutebuch of Chicago. Private service is Friday at Klaehn, Fahl & Melton Winchester Road Chapel, 6424 Winchester Road, with visitation from 2 to 4 and 6 to 8 p.m. Thursday. Memorials to Project Read at Indian Village School.