March 12, 2008

• Memory Lane Has Left the Planet

  In 1974, deciding an apartment would be easier for her, my grandmother sold her house in northwest Chicago.  She and Grandpa had lived in that house for over forty years; as a child, it was one of my favorite places in the world.  (How could you not like somewhere where you could ALWAYS make a tent out of two chairs and a blanket smack dab in the middle of the tiny living room?)  My grandparents had the biggest yard on the street, let alone the block, because their house (which was probably the smallest on the block) and garage were built on two adjoining lots.  Their front yard had hosted many of our running games.

  When Grandma sold the house to a contractor, we knew my grandparents' house and garage would be razed and two houses would be built.  For a long time, I did not want to drive by and see the changes.  Then it became extremely inconvenient.  Yesterday it finally dawned on me to check Google Maps' Street View.

  Completely unsurprisingly, after 34 years, I can't recognize anything; even the trees are different.  The street is evidently now one-way heading south, which strikes me as so strange because my mom or dad always parked facing north, right in front of my grandparents' fence.  The houses along the street seem much more prosperous than they did then; I'm glad the neighborhood seems to be doing well.

  The two "new" houses are attractive.  Just think.  Children could have grown up in those houses, fairly sure that all the history of the world began when those houses were constructed.  Grandchildren could be visiting the residents of those houses, just as we used to visit Grandma and Grandpa. 

  If this scenario is true, I wonder whether these grandchildren ever go on Chicago vacations (i.e., spend the night with the grandparents without their parents).  I doubt whether either one of these houses has a sauna in the basement; nor did anyone's grandfather dig out the basement two wheelbarrows of dirt a night after World War II ended and he could foresee obtaining construction materials.

  It is sad for me to consider that probably only five people in the world remember that small and wonderful house that seemed such a permanent fixture of the neighborhood when I was young.  Thank goodness I'm lucky; my children bring a sweet promise to the future which I wouldn't trade for anything.

  BTW, happy birthday to my brother!

  • 10:31 am
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