The Best Birthday Ever

Birthday Party - Seven Years Old
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

As a parent, you always hope that your child is filled with great memories of their childhood. I'm sure that my mom, who became a parent at the ripe old age of 17 years and 3 months, had that in mind when she threw me a birthday party in our dinky, 800 square foot home on Cedar Crest Circle.

To the right is the only picture I have of that day. My three best friends from first grade were there (counter clockwise) Ericka Couch, Lisa Smith, and Beth Fruechtenicht. There's a board game sitting in front of us...but I couldn't tell you what it was and without this picture, I wouldn't even have remembered that I had The Flintstones for birthday hats and blowers. I couldn't tell you what was on my cake - if I had one number candle or seven.

What I do remember - as though it was yesterday - is that I was a very happy girl. I don't know if you can see that from my face, but gosh, I was happy.

And why was I happy? Two specific reasons - the guests and the best birthday present that I've ever received in my entire life.

The guests were my three best friends from Indian Village Elementary school and also, members of my family (aunts, uncles, cousins + my mom's cousins and their kids). All of us, squeezed together in that small amount of space sounds claustrophobic, doesn't it?! At the time, it didn't seem anything but fun. I'm sure that my mom, though, was frantic and worried because later on (much later on as an adult), she told me that she ran out of cake and food because so many people showed up that she wasn't expecting.

I probably received a fair number of birthday gifts that year but you know what - that's a blur to me. The only gift that really mattered is what my parents got me.

For the big event, I was shuttled out on to the front porch area (this area wasn't a "porch" per se as much as it was an enclosed part of our house - like a mudroom - with no heat). I was instructed to face the outdoor window and no peeking!!! That window had a view to my neighbors houses across the street - the Wooden's and the Boice's.

I remember the crowd of people who were all standing behind me, waiting for the revelation of the big moment. And then my mom said, You can turn around now.

My smile was the biggest smile you can ever imagine and I squealed with delight. It was everything I ever wanted - a big girl bike. It was a lime green bike...equipped with a white flowered basket, multi-colored plastic streamers hanging out of the handle bars, and a banana seat.

That bike stayed with me for most of my childhood. If it would have had an odometer on it, it would have had thousands of miles racked up on it because as a kid living on Cedar Crest Circle - that's what we did. We rode our bikes. We didn't have to have a destination...we just rode them. Sometimes we rode them by ourselves (in a circle - Cedar Crest, Pinecrest, Cedar Crest) and sometimes we rode in a pack....taking the same route, perhaps stopping at Scott''s Court to play a game of kickball, or sneaking off to play in the forbidden ditch (catching tadpoles), or making our way up Sandhill to play in the area that would later take the life of our friend Delores.

There was a third reason why this was the best birthday ever. It was the last birthday I remember where I wasn't conscious of my father's drinking issues. At my party, I didn't remember that he wasn't there until just before the unveiling of my bike. I didn't remember that he was drunk off his ass and he brought people to my party that I didn't even know.

And why didn't I remember these things? Because my mom made sure that I was distracted so as not to notice. She wanted my birthday to be the kind of birthday that all little girls deserve to have....one filled with lots of happy memories. It worked.

Mommy, it was the best birthday ever and as long as I live, I will never forget how special I felt that day.

The Interloper

Neighborhood Kids
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

In our neighborhood - everyone - and I do mean EVERYONE - knew each other. It wasn't just a one neighbor radius either (meaning - you probably expected us to know the people who live to the right of us, to the left of us, across the street, and directly behind us). Oh no, this neighborhood I grew up in - everybody knew everybody. In some ways, knowledge equaled a sense of safety and security. We were a young neighborhood, but already, we were pretty set in our ways.

And then, there were these "rules" that almost every kid abided by (or tried to). Most of these weren't rules that were written down or given to us as instructions. They were rules (and boundaries) that we all sort of picked up as we experienced life in the neighborhood.

For example - there were some neighbors who were really grouchy about people crossing through their yards. In fact, over a one year period, Sears must have been licking their lips at the windfall they experienced by the number of chain-link fences installed in our neighborhood.

More examples - kickball games usually took place on Cedar Crest Circle; the bike "route" was Cedar Crest Circle - Pinecrest - back to Cedar Crest. Kyle Road was too dangerous for bike riding. Skateboarding happened on Pinecrest. Tree climbing was usually reserved for the big ole cherry tree on Scott's Court. If you had to use the (ahem) facilities and you were playing with the Beckstedt kids - too bad. You had to go somewhere else cause their momma never let you in.

One summer, while playing with Tricia Manter in her big ole backyard (we were doing our typical Barbie things), we heard a voice from the other side of the wood fence. I looked at Tricia, she looked up and then looked back down, getting back to the business at hand (putting together Barbie's swimming pool).

The voice called out again. Tricia just ignored him. Not me though. I wanted to know who it was. I went to the back of the yard and I saw a boy, up in a neighbor's tree. I didn't recognize him. "Who are you?" He answered, "Wouldn't you like to know?" Of course I did. He was an interloper in our neighborhood. He was climbing trees of neighbors I knew - clearly - he was not a "neighbor". Then I heard a voice. "Tom. Come down here. Lunch is ready." To which he answered, "Okay grandma."

Weird. I went back to playing Barbies with Tricia. We didn't even acknowledge the voice in the back. By this time, the pool was up and it was time for Barbie, Ken, and Skipper to bask in all of their tanning glory.

Growing Up On Cedar Crest Circle - The Significance of Scott's Court

Picture of Scott's Court
4700 block of Cedar Crest Circle
Fort Wayne, Indiana 46809

Date Taken: May 25, 2008
Credit: Me

What was there to do on Cedar Crest Circle?

This was before VG (Video Games). Another big thing - the residents of this neighborhood were folks with limited incomes. For the most part (if they were employed) - they were blue collar workers (i.e. factories and construction) or worked in retail. And I say 'if' because the 70's were riddled with unemployment challenges in Fort Wayne.

The "outdoors" was our entertainment.

It didn't matter how old of a kid you were - you spent a great deal of time outdoors. Yes, even if it was colder than crap and hotter than hell.

There were certain activities that became engrained in our neighborhood culture. Scott's Court (and if anyone can ever figure out for me why it's called that and who really owns this piece of land, I would be forever indebted to you) was a grassy area where we played red rover, tag, picked cherries from the cherry tree, and most importantly, it was the entry to the best ditch in the neighborhood.

I kid you not. Let me back track a little bit.

If you were a kid with a ditch next to your house - you were high up in the neighborhood pecking order. Oh yes. Now this particular ditch wasn't next to my house - it was across the street and down three houses. Still, very close in proximity and what made it even more special is that the folks who lived on either side of it had NO kids so you know...possession is like 9/10's of the law.

This was my ditch.

In the 70's, the City of Fort Wayne (or maybe it was the county - who knows...) came out and re-did all of the ditches in our neighborhood. Those silvery shells created quite the opening. Inside, you could find all sorts of treasures. Rocks that looked like gemstones. Tadpoles. Lots of 'em.

In this picture, the ditch-area is grown over with grass, but in my day, it was more rocks and water than anything else.

Side note: I came thisclose to crawling inside of this just to get a picture of what it looks like now but thought that perhaps someone might see me and then how would I explain why a middle-aged chick was crawling into the ditch? Well officer, I have this blog and....

This ditch was also the place where I had my first fist fight. You see, I was in sixth grade, and Rhonda and Rene Swanigan had moved into our neighborhood. Although they lived on Pinecrest (which was the straight street that separated each side of Cedar Crest Circle), they felt the need to assert (or try to) their authority in the neighborhood. I hated them. They were the same ages as me (Rhonda) and my sister (Rene).

I know it can be really tough moving into an 'established' neighboorhood. We didn't take too kindly to outsiders. We even were known for singing Help Me Rhonda whenever we talked about Rhonda. Hey - that's just the way it was. Everyone had a nickname or a song that was sung about them - new kid or otherwise.

One day while riding bikes, we (a handful of miscellaneous kids) paused at Scott's Court. Rhonda and Rene decided to stop and taunt my sister Patty.

Why? What was said? Couldn't tell you. All I know is that when I told her to take it back and leave Patty alone, she got off of her banana-seated bike and asked me what I was gonna do about it.

So I pushed her. She pushed back. I hated her. And it felt good to pull her blonde roots out.

And the fists started flying. We ended up rolling around on Scott's Court and then fell into the ditch where we continued to punch the crap out of each other.

Kathy Boice (an older chick in the neighborhood) must have been alerted to the fight by her sister Jackie. She came over with her boyfriend Tom, and broke it up.

I didn't cry until I got home. I wasn't crying because I was hurt. I had just had my brackets put on by Dr. Ingleman that morning and I knew my parents would be ticked if any of them had fallen off...

Lucky me...all were intact.

But Rhonda and Rene - well - we never were able to bond with them. Not that we tried or anything...