Two Kids, One Block, many wonderful memories

Change has been the single most constant theme in my life. It’s a complete oxymoron, but it’s so true. As a child I loved changes and couldn’t sit still because I wanted to see more variety in the world around me. Now that I am older I enjoy stillness and peace, but find the world is changing even quicker. Funny how we always want what we don’t have!

As a child, I thoroughly enjoyed my life. Often I would play in the house alone; in the basement creating stories and friends, in my room drawing, or just roaming around curiously building something from random household droppings. I would hesitantly go outside because of the undesired banter that would come at my expense. Most of the time it came and went, but there were those times when my neighborhood was the best place to play.

One of the best things about my old neighborhood on Clermont Avenue was running around all day. Whether we were riding bikes to the corner store for penny candy, running races against each other for fun, or causing headaches as we went “N****r Knocking.” I know, not the best name for a game, but that’s what we called ringing someone’s doorbell and running away. Sometimes I would wake up super early and ready to go, but everyone was sleep. I waited an hour which seemed like years for my friends to wake up so I could knock on their door and start a new adventure. More often than not, I would find myself at the Kelly’s home where my best friend lived.

The Kelly’s lived across the street and several houses up the block from me. Mr. Kelly was divorced living with his three out of five sons. Not exactly sure how many boys there were in total, but it was a lot! He was a tall, chocolate skinned man with a strong demeanor and soft voice, a mixture of Levar Burton and Mr. Rogers with a small southern accent as he was from the Carolina’s. The matriarch of the Kelly clan was very similar in nature; soft to the eyes and graceful to the ears. Cross her once and she may let it slide. Cross it twice and you would find yourself with crossed arms in a pine box. I only saw her several times in my childhood, but she was an amazing woman with her sons and you saw the respect they gave her.

On Clermont Ave, the Kelly boys were very well known. Some respected, some feared, but mostly both. Anthony was the eldest son of the tenants. Built like a linebacker he was soft spoken and chose his words carefully. Often he was responsible for the house as Mr. Kelly spent a lot of time at the station house. I always knew he was working when I didn’t see his chocolate version of the A-Team van. The next eldest was Arie. A mixture of Eddie Murphy as a child and that was him. Quick to make a joke and even quicker to make fun of something he deemed stupid. He was very spontaneous, but incredibly loyal. Hence, if he was your friend he would go to any length, but make no mistake, if you pissed him off you were catching four knuckles and a thumb laughing! The youngest of the bunch, was Andre…my first be friend!

Andre was a short, stalky, chubby kid with a lot of energy. Like a bulldog/jack russell mix Andre almost always had a smile on his face, laughing or trying to make some joke. When he laughed it was like hearing Santa “ho ho ho.” Most of the time we spent a lot of time running between our houses playing Nintendo until a parent made us go outside. Then we would switch houses until someone’s parent was tired of hearing our childish laughter. Nonetheless, if we were outside we could play marbles on my stoop. If you were smart, you wouldn’t play “for keeps” otherwise loosing your best/favourite marble was doomed to happened. If that wasn’t what we were feeling we would play kickball in my backyard, walk to Washington to play basketball, or run across the lawn of the old white man at the end of the block. EVERYONE loved pissing him!

I spent many days and nights at Andre’s house. Many of those nights, I saw and heard things I probably shouldn’t have like the time the older kids were playing Cops and Robbers. Of course Andre and I wanted to play, but this time they mentioned that we were to little. Slightly annoyed, Andre and I sat there wondering why we couldn’t play as we have several times before. That was until we saw the pellet and bb guns. Eyes wide opened, we understood there answer to the fullest as we sat back and watch the carnage ensue. From Andre’s porch, we watch them run all over the neighborhood, up and down the street yelling for backup and screaming call outs in efforts not to get caught. Yep, my neighborhood was for real, for real! Forget just tagging someone and starting over. That was boring. When we played, we played hard and for keeps!

The highlight of the evening was when one of the last robbers got caught. Instead of shooting him while he was running, I believe Arie ran him down and held him until the cavalry came. As more team members showed up, they surrounded homeboy and gave him an option, “get shot in the foot or the hand?” Like two mice seeing a piece of cheese, Andre and I immediately jumped off the porch, ran across the street and thru Little Bob’s backyard to the huge field behind the houses where they were all standing. As soon as we got there, Arie yelled for us to get back to the house. Andre put up a little fight until they told us that if we stick around, we would get shot too. So we slowly turned around and walked back. Unknown to them we stopped in the darkness of Little Bob’s backyard and watched as the gun went off. Slowly tension built as everyone wait for “the decision.” Quicker than you could say your own name, the gun went off. Immediate agony roared into the sky accompanied by laughter immensely. Andre and I ran back to his porch and excitedly laughed about the story we would have for all the other young kids in the neighborhood about what we saw while they were inside.

Andre was always a good friend to me and we amassed many stories over the years. I admired him as he had older brothers to protect him and teach him stuff. As the oldest son myself, I really didn’t have anyone to mentor me. I guess that’s why I went to his house so much. But, there were many characters everywhere in my neighborhood.

Jerome, Juni, and Shante whom were my neighbors were quiet like me, but always in the mix. Little Bob (who always had a basketball in his hand) and Little Dixon (who was always getting his ass beat), Andre Carter (punched me in the face by accident trying to show me his karate), Justin and Amber at the corner, Vicky the little and only white girl on the block with her wild ass mom), and others. But, the neighborhood wouldn’t be complete without the “get off my lawn” guy. Ours was the best entertainment ever. This guy would little use a pair of scissors to cut his grass and he would sometimes do it in his house shoes sand draws. The man did not care about anything but his house. It was brilliant!

Since those days many things have changed; at 14yrs old I moved away and over time kept moving around the world, Ari and Anthony I believe moved with their mom to Florida, Juni has huge car dealership, Little Bob became a local legend and high school basketball highlight reel, and the old man on the corner is pushing up daisies (R.I.P) As for Andre… 🙂

Andre followed in his father’s footsteps as a firefighter, got married and eventually bought a house on the same block that we group up on (Gave me the idea to one day buy the home I grew up in) to which now he rents to others. And that is Andre in a nutshell; loyal to the soil and a man of the people. So much that it almost cost him his life.

Several years ago, my little brother sent me a video of Andre arriving home in a limousine. As he stepped out of the car with his normal bright and glowing smile to a large crowd of friends, family and members of the community, I noticed the obvious scarring as if he was burned alive…and basically he was. As I was told, Andre was on a call and while he was with his team, he got caught in the fire which engulfed him. Unknown to me, he laid in the hospital fighting for his life until he told me the story.

Over the years Andre and I have barely spoken, but updated on each others lives through a third party informant until recently. On the first blog post he reached out and gave me huge dap for my adventures and all the things I’ve done. In addition, he mentioned “the block” and got me thinking about my old life, the beginning of who I was and where I came from. I couldn’t help, but remember my our friendship and still til this very day, Andre encouraging me to do something as always and making me smile while doing so. Thanks mate!

I heard a great quote, “the farther you look into the past, the more you can see the future.” Looking back at my friendship with Andre and seeing how we both have grown and grown a part, but still have those little moments that connect us only makes me understand that change can be whatever we like. I can’t change the fact that I moved at 14 and continued to live around the world while Andre was creating a family as well as becoming a living Marvel paladin. Our friendship has changed, but we are still those two little kids trying to enjoy life, occasionally getting into things that probably we shouldn’t, and live the best life we can. Although we are no longer no bosom buddies, thank you for being my first best friend, sharing your home and video games with me, and taking me back to a time of joy, laughter, and peace of mind that’s been with me all the time.

Boy voyage!

#Lessons #Happiness #Change #Life #Friends #Stories #Children