It is What Defined Us And What Brought Us Together

When I set out yesterday for an afternoon of taking pictures, what I had in mind for a photo theme basically ended up giving me a topic for an article. My intent was to travel through south St. Louis city streets and shoot pictures of the different catholic churches but as I wandered up and down the side streets a certain familiarity hit home.

Jokingly, I have always said I was baptized by trade into the catholic religion. I come from a long line of Italian heretics that coerced us into Mass on Sunday at St. Cecilia’s with a meatball dinner to follow. Most of my growing up years I really thought that is what defined me but as I traveled these city streets, stomping grounds for so many, I questioned, what really defined any of us?

Was it the neighborhoods we grew up in? Was it the schools we attended? Was it the kids we played with? How did we come to be…?

Looking back, I left my catholic grade school to attend a public school. It just wasn’t feasible to send me and my sister to a school that cost money to go to. What I can remember, it was a turbulent few years after the death of my mom. The heartache and decisions that my grand parents had to make came with such financial sorrow but we would have never known it. We were loved and fed and clothed… and education was just part of the packaged deal.

By 7^th grade, I was enrolled in a new school which was public and we were living in a new neighborhood. A new set of rules applied. Having so many new friends, my grandparents applied different rules to the different kids. I am guessing other families applied the same rule. I am sure each of us would have a story to tell about it too!

Friday nights were such a big deal during 7^th and 8^th grade. We could walk from my house on Marceline Terrace up to St. Anthony’s on Meramec to roller skate. A group of us with our skates tied over our shoulders would trek through the Dutchtown neighborhood to the rink, which was really just the hard wooded floors of the old school’s gymnasium; we mixed and mingled with the other kids from the surrounding schools. I knew both the skate guards but nonetheless when it came to the slow songs and the couples skate… ahh, I would retreat to the side lines to watch.

Gosh looking back it was a life time ago. The kids of today have no clue what they are missing out on. It was the neighborhood kids that made all the difference. Everybody’s parents knew each other and if one of us was missing if just for an hour, the phone chain would begin. Where ever any of us were found the parent would skedaddle us home. Often times some of us even wanted to forget where home really was. Hours upon hours we would spend at each others house, playing kick ball, tag, king of the hill, hide and seek, you name it if there was a game to play outside we were doing it!

Riding bikes too from my house on Marceline Terrace at Grand Ave all the way up to Tower Grove Park was an adventure none of us wanted to miss out on. We would set out during the morning only to arrive home late in the day, just in time for supper. Can’t imagine how we didn’t eat all day? The fun and the laughter and the exercise…ahh exhilarating!

Cleveland was the choice for high school. I had wanted to go to Notre Dame, to follow in my mother’s footsteps but again money played a factor and so Cleveland it was, along with 800 other kids from the surrounding neighborhoods. It was fine though once we all settled in and became a south side conglomerate it was like second skin.

Weekend nights though in high school were usually spent at the “all boy’s” dances, St. Mary’s, Vianny, CBC, what a treat that was! Dressing up and parading amongst a bunch of boys we didn’t know… why that was pure eye candy before we ever knew what eye candy was! Lucky for me, my house on Marceline Terrace was right across the alley from St. Mary’s and subsequently the trash always needed to go out right about 3:15 when the boys were let out of school. There was something to be said about a boy that went to a private school…

Growing up in those types of neighborhoods was a privilege and for those of us that didn’t go to college right after high school we got to go to work right in our own back yards too. Neighborhood hardware, grocery and clothing stores hired the bunch of us. While others decided on college at South west, South East, UMSL and SLU. We still though congregated on weekends, talked for hours on the phone and gallantly awaited the holidays for the long furrows. A few even ventured into the military and we waited for their gallant return. Parties were given and parties were had and we didn’t miss any of them!

Most married the years to follow after graduation. Invitations came left and right. Returning to our home parishes, fiancé’s were introduced, bridesmaids were picked, dresses were bought and nuptials were said. Bouquets were thrown and the south St. Louis mostocoli and roast beef receptions were had…of course with an open bar.

The following years babies were born. Jobs and family life became a given. We became separate from our friends and contacts were lost. Life gets in the way while you are growing up. Staying in touch was only important with each season of the deliverance of Christmas cards. Moving away was what was being done and there was no need for the weekly contact anymore.

Only some were lucky to have stayed married. I envied those that have been in it for 30 years. I myself would have been married this November 24^th 30 years… but for myself and many others luck ran out, personalities changed and the idea of being in love did not serve a purpose any longer. Divorce was the only option, to start a new and begin again.

Here we are, what seems like a century later and now a handful of us long for something from the past, some returning to our home parishes and or some finding new realms to redeem their lost souls, seek salvation and find some mend for past actions.

I traveled through these city streets yesterday, delighted in the task. Repeatedly, I wondered and asked my self what defined any of us?

As I looked around and once again became so familiar, I can definitely say many of our lives growing up in these parishes and neighborhood left an imprint. Character traits were shared, a commonality formed amongst us. We all wanted to belong to something stronger than ourselves.

I am fortunate, that I was apart of that growing up. I made wonderful friends, gained fabulous memories and I love that I can write about it and share. It’s a gift to stroll down that memory lane, to recall and relive these beautiful city moments. It is a treasure lost. Our old neighborhoods cry out for what once was and yesterday I heard the plea.

Meet Me In St. Louis,

Kitryn Marie