I grew up in a culdesac. When we finally moved in, my parents were delighted to find that there were 4 kids in the culdesac that were exactly my age. I always thought it was magic for some reason. 2 boys 2 girls. We were all 5 or so in 1999 when all our houses were built. There was nothing. It was a neighborhood of new builds. There were just 4 piles of dirt in empty lots and it became my life. I remember the first time i met one of the boys, he dropped a big chunk of cement on his foot while our parents were talking and not paying attention. We’d all come to visit the lots one day. We were playing in the dirt and sand. To this day i can almost smell it. The wet dirt mixed with cement and wood. Sometimes a memory feels like you can walk right into it.
One of the neighbors’ little sisters was a baby when we moved in. The builders poured the concrete for the sidewalks and she walked through it while it was still wet. There were little foot prints across our sidewalk for years. My mom was so mad. When they tore it up to fix it, i remember playing in the rubble with my Barbies.
The schools seemed to show up as we needed them. Every house had kids. I can’t think of a single house in that subdivision that didn’t have kids my age. I know it’s economics. And it was a developing town. So obviously there was a boom in young families. We outgrew the small schools from the 80s. A new elementary school was built when we graduated kindergarten. A new middle school when we were 12. A new high school in 2008. We were so lucky! We always had a half day on the first day of school. Our parents would take us to McDonald’s.
We all ended up in the same 2nd grade class in 2002. The year always matched what grade we were in. More magic, i always thought. We had an assignment at one point to draw our neighborhood or something like that. We obviously all drew the same thing. Our teacher called our parents because she thought we cheated off of each other only to find out we’re neighbors. We were never in the same classes like that again. It only happened once in all of those years.
I used to be able to call them to borrow their textbooks when i forgot mine at school. My mom would run me across the street to borrow eggs. I was really lucky. We had a really tight knit neighborhood. I really feel like my generation was the last to have that magical childhood. It was really like a movie. We’d play outside every night. Kick the can or four square. I remember a dream of mine was to cover the entire driveway in chalk. We’d draw roads in the street and ride them on our razor scooters. We buried time capsules in a few of our yards. How did our parents not catch us? Maybe they did and just never said anything.
The street light in front of my house was always home base. I always felt special that our house was in the middle of the culdesac. when i think about it now, i can feel it. The grey white glow of the streetlight on all of the fresh concrete. It was so dark. All of our yards connected. No one had fences. We’d lap around my backyard and come out at the end of the street. It was cheating to leave the circle.
We’d use the culdesac as a baseball field. The street light was home plate. Kevin’s mailbox was first. Kelsi’s was second. TJ’s was third. Kelsi’s house had a weird slanted yard. We’d sled there in the winter. Their front yard was long and narrow. It was big because her house was the end of the circle part of the culdesac. We’d play Running Bases there. Anything further was out of bounds.
All the trees were so tiny. Even when we left 20 years later, the trees were still so tiny. They never seemed to grow. I always wondered what that was about.
We’d throw a block party every summer. One of our richer neighbors would rent a big party tent. It would cover the whole street. It felt so grandiose back then. I remember it pouring rain one year. How loud it was standing inside. They’d bolt the tent poles right into asphalt and fill the holes in with tar when it was over. I was always so surprised you were allowed to do that. One year they rented a dunk tank. Sometimes the fire department would come and spray all the kids. What else was there to do back then, i guess? everyone knew each other. They’d always set up the DJ on our driveway. The house would vibrate until midnight. As i write about it now, i see myself in my kitchen. I can’t tell if it’s a memory, or if I’m constructing the world in my mind. The house would be so dark and cool. The yellow glow of all of our beautiful warm light fixtures. And those cedar cabinets. All of the lights would be off. My mom would always say “we don’t need everyone looking in”. My parents were so funny like that. So shy. I know if i went back, no one would be there. But can’t we just try?
I’d run inside for something. A toy? Was i grabbing a drink? Maybe those stupid little jug juices with the foil on the top? Maybe just to use the bathroom. The muffled sounds of the DJ would go right through the walls from the outside. I’d only be in there a minute. Everyone was waiting for me. I’d smell like bug spray. I’d always been so scared of going outside at night. Fear of the dark, maybe. I don’t know how to explain how alive those nights were. Nothing could have ever scared me!
My dad would have water gun fights with the other dads. He never drank. All the other parents did. I don’t know why i always remembered that. How silly they got. How unpolished and unintimidating they’d all become. I remember one of them did a cartwheel once. My dad was older than all of them, i think. But he was always so silly. Someone would drive and get White Castle as the night wound down. Maybe that’s why my dad didn’t drink. All of the kids would play ghost in the graveyard into the night. Or freeze tag. Horse in Kelsi’s driveway once they installed the basketball hoop. I think some years we’d swim late at night. Everyone had a pool except us.
The music would play forever! It was probably 10pm. It felt so much later. It always felt like we were getting away with something. I still remember the metal sound the street light would make when you’d run full force into it and slap it so you wouldn’t get tagged.
They’d come pick up the tent the next afternoon. My dad would always say “wanna go have breakfast in the tent?”it was summer for us, but did he have work? Were the block parties always on weekends? Why have i never thought about this until now?
It was a new neighborhood. The street ended a block away from us. The houses weren’t built. You could hear the metra train from my bedroom. As they built more houses, you couldn’t hear it as much. Is that possible, or did i imagine it?
Amy and Tom were nurses and we’d always call them before we called the doctor. When my grandparents lived with us, we’d call her first in an emergency. Amy would show up when the ambulance pulled in. She’d come over to pick my dad up off the floor when he fell. Why did she do that? Wasn’t she busy enough?
No one lives there anymore. I think the last family we knew moved out last year. All the kids have grown. The youngest just got his masters. I think of one of them as a little baby girl still. She had a pink birthmark on her little bald head. They called it a strawberry. She just followed me on Instagram. We all keep in touch as much as one thinks you should. I see their babies on Facebook, and we get invited to all of the weddings and baby showers and funerals. They were all there when my dad died. I’ll never forget when i caught one of the little sisters crying at his wake. She said “it just doesn’t seem like it’s time for this yet”. I thought of her baby footprints in our sidewalk. I thought of her mom bandaging up my dad for so many years.
My mom met up with a few of them last night and got dinner. She called me this morning. Unloaded all of the gossip. Pregnancies, marriages, sickness. As she was filling me in she said how sad she was. How old they’re all getting. She said she’s in some sort of denial and she finds it unbelievable when she hears these things, because in her mind; she’s still 30 years old in that house.
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