In-Town Tourist: Neighborhood Parks
I drove past a couple of memories the other day. Heischman Park was a little neighborhood oasis, far enough from my childhood home on Halligan Avenue to be an adventure, but close enough that Mom could easily track me down. All the original play equipment has now been replaced by newer and undoubtedly safer versions. Gone are the tall metal poles we shimmied up in hopes of ringing the bell at the top. The long swing chains that groaned and creaked as we tested their limits have also been replaced. -But the tree I regularly and impulsively climbed only to realize I had no idea how to initiate a descent… it was still there.
Our one-time neighborhood in Elida, Ohio also had a park, a vast field used for community events, bordered with all varieties of antiquated play equipment. My oldest son (around five or six at the time) and I would run the mile or so from our house, and I’d stand close by as he tested himself by climbing up and over a ten foot metal sphere, jumping on and off of a spinning merry-go-round and on odd looking horse swings that took more than a little coordination to get started. We usually walked back home, kicking a rock back and forth between us the whole way.
There is no neighborhood park where we live now, but there’s a woods, stream and pond to explore. And, I recognize that independent, “off on an adventure” look in my youngest son’s eyes when he heads into the woods with his buddies as a match for the surge I felt -as I pedaled my bike to Heischman Park and that confounding tree.
