Hackberry Drive

Hackberry Drive was a terrific address to be a child. A large corner lot in the Valley View subdivision was the backdrop for a fair amount of trouble making. A yard that could have technically been called an orchard provided ample hide outs, sustenance for hungry bellies and proper ammunition (rotten fruit). The willow tree's branches helped Josh and I connect with our inner-Tarzan and always seemed to hold us, even into the late 80's. Our yard played host to endless summers that felt wonderfully unstructured. Honeysuckle, grape vines and roses...I remember those bees! Nightly I would be lulled to sleep by crickets and the sounds of distant traffic on Route 53. Late evening entertainment was found just outside my bedroom window. Long-haired men and women with hair teased to the heavens would empty out of monster trucks onto my neighbor's driveway for impromptu partying. Come winter, the slope of our drive-way provided a perfect luge for cardboard box sledding. At this address I was a proud member of Brownie Troop 885. I sold cookies to kind people in cookie cutter homes. Big Wheels and banana seat bikes were the preferred mode of transportation. The soundtrack of my childhood was heard through our record player and as we grew older, mix-tapes. Broadway musicals and the melodic genius of Strawberry Shortcake gave us plenty to dance to. Later it was Ah-Ha, Tears for Fears and Technotronic. This address was also home to winters of severely chapped hands and lips, scarlet fever, heartbreaks and too many good-byes. But through the ups and downs of childhood and beyond, this home has always been there for me. The porch light has always be on, my mom will always be waving in the picture window. Ella, here is a brief snapshot into my childhood. I hope you know the porch light will always be on for you too. Wishing you have special memories like mine from your childhood home.