Written on 2015-03-27

1649 Monongahela Ave – Part 2

Childhood is a special time, a time of dreams, of make believe friends and of trusting fully without reservations. It is also a time of growing up and finding out that everything isn’t always magical. And this is very difficult for any child to understand.

One of my best memories, while living on Monongahela Avenue in Swissvale, was Christmas. We would decorate the tree and put the HO train up underneath it. The track was just one big circle, but it was always a big deal to run the power control. My father would caution us not to give it too much power as the engine would jump the track. We would listen to his instructions – for a little bit. We would get the train going around and around and then ever so slightly push the toggle up a tad. Good, it didn’t jump the track. Just a little more, a little more, a …. WIPE OUT! My dad would put the track back on the track and we were told again not to run it too fast.

I remember one time when it was snowing. The town hadn’t put cinders on the streets yet and probably wouldn’t as it was dark, after 5:00 PM. There weren’t snow tires or studded tires yet so it was work your way up the hill slowly and hope you didn’t lose traction. Or you put chains on your tires. There was that certain distinctive sound of the chains against the brick streets. However this time it didn’t sound that way to me. Instead it was definitely the jingling of the sleigh bells on Santa’s sled, coming to leave presents. Oh my gosh, Santa was early. I had to get to bed fast or he might not stop. I don’t think I ever got into my pajamas so fast. The next morning I was relieved to see that Santa Claus had found our house and left presents for everyone, including the large baby dolls that our Grandpap Racz gave my sisters and me each year for Christmas. Santa must have made a special stop at Grandpap’s house before he got to ours. (Bonnie, Denise and Cheryl)

There were also those times when a child could only wonder how someone could be so mean. Our house was robbed one day. I don’t recall a lot of details or what all was taken. What I do know was whoever did this broke my little glass piggy bank, taking the few coins that were there. Maybe as an adult you can understand why someone would do this but to a four year old, it was beyond comprehension. My parents tried to explain that sometimes people just do bad things and there is no reason for it. Seriously, though, it is still difficult to understand why some people just do bad things.