Hey sports fans, if you are just joining us, this post is the fourth part of a series that began here. This series is nearly complete, but I haven’t found the energy to finish it just yet.
We now return to the program in progress.
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“Our House”, by Madness
I can’t remember the first time I heard this English Ska tune….It was sometime in the early or mid 1990s I think. I was listening to a Walkman as I pedaled down a long forgotten street in Idaho Falls and it came across the air, sandwiched in a set of whatever else was on that day. As I pumped the pedals of my bike and listened to the lyrics, I thought that they were an unintentionally superb approximation of my life.
Growing up on Cameron Avenue saw our house in almost the middle of the block. Any given day might have seen our house crowded with all of us, kids playing downstairs, and something was always happening as people went about the business of their young lives.
The lyrics, coupled with the happy tune of the song, make for a potent time capsule and a flood of memories of an idyllic time and place to be alive. Though growing up on Cameron wasn’t perfect and a house with 6 people can be a less than peaceful place, I miss those times and that house fiercely. I would not trade those years for ANYTHING.
I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time, such a fine time
Such a happy time
One day not long ago saw me at my desk in my office. I needed to find a location for a job I was handling some details for, and had been using google maps. After finishing up, and on a lark, I googled my parents—our family’s—old address on Cameron in Idaho Falls. I’d almost forgotten about this timeline view, and my heart swelled into my throat as browsed through the available dates — July 2021, September 2015, August 2011, and June 2008.
Curious, I clicked on the oldest option and there, in a slightly grainy photo was our house! It was a brilliant summer morn, with the brilliant Idaho sky shining down, and a handful of wispy clouds in the western sky. The house looked almost exactly the way I remember it from all those years ago, minus some trees and shrubs.
Our house, in the middle of our street
The lilac tree by the old red wooden gate on the South side of the house was in full bloom, and the crab apple was bright and bushy. The MASSIVE aspen in the back yard was peeking over the roofline, as was the giant spruce in a neighboring yard. The big pine tree that once rose from the Northeast corner of the front yard was gone, as were the waist high evergreen shrubs that ran along the front of the yard and driveway. The pair of tall Arbor Vitae trees that shot out of the Southeast corner were gone as well, pulled out with the shrubs sometime in the early or mid-2000’s. The flower beds along the front of the house were full of brightly colored blooms and my mom’s assorted knick knacks were visible between them all.
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
The driveway was still slowly falling apart on the right side, and a blurred black sedan sat quietly under the basketball hoop. I’m pretty sure (given the date and vehicle description) that this was my Brother’s car. I wondered what my parents were doing–both of them were still working at that point. I thought of my Brother, and wondered if he was asleep in the basement, or in the kitchen lazily pulling the door of the ‘fridge open in midst of grabbing a snack. I thought about whether the gentle breeze made the backyard smell of flowers or the faint scent of pine as it wafted past, and tried to imagine how the still of the living room (just inside the big front window) sounded. I can still hear the silence of the near empty house, disturbed only by the ticking of Mom’s clock on the wall above the Piano.
Bereft of anything pressing, I typed in my Grandparents’ address on Jeri Avenue and selected the oldest option for their address—also from June of 2008. I clicked the link and another slightly grainy photo appeared on the screen in front of me, quality somewhat washed out by the brilliant morning sun in the cloudless blue summer sky. A Massive grin crossed my face as I took in the sight before me; the photo was exactly like I remembered their home as they aged. The tall evergreen hedge in the front of the house was gone, as were the piles of snow and carefully placed strings of glass C9 lights that adorned them every holiday season. The tall Honey locust that dropped the funny brown seed pods was long gone, removed by Grandpa one year and replaced by the Quaking Aspen that showed what 10 or more years of growth can do.
And I remember how we’d play, simply waste the day away
A blue sedan is clearly visible parked in the driveway–the infamous blue Neon that (somehow) survived being driven to and fro, on and off road, by myself and every one of my siblings from the time my Dad bought it in the late 90’s (1996?) until somewhere around 2008(?). Curious as to whether there were any other viewpoints, I ‘moved’ a little up the street (North of). Two details not visible at first came into view: The man door to the right of the garage roll up door was ajar and………..the red fence that had surrounded their yard for longer than I had been alive was plainly visible from the North side of their house.
The memories came flooding back again, mostly into my brain, but also in the form of a slow leak into my eyes. I had so many questions—who was there, what were they doing, what did that early June morning see everyone at Gramps n Gran’s doing? An open door at their house usually meant someone was up and about, working in the yard or taking in some fresh air on the patio behind the single car garage. Was Dad helping Gramps with some project, or were they just relaxing in a pair of lawn chairs on the patio out back? Was granny doing the wash or sitting in the den, relaxing in one of two recliners that sat side by side since time immemorial?
Our house, in the middle of our street
Portland, OR
August 2024
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