Summer Time and The Living Is Easy

"Summer time and the Living is Easy" is one of my mother’s favorite songs. As summer is approaching, I have started to think of the fun things I did as a child. What are some of the ways you enjoyed the summer.

In the early 1950s, we lived at Number 8 Monhagen Street, Woods Run, PA across the street, the wall furthest from the Ohio River, was the Western Pennsylvania State Penitentiary. Monhagen was sort of a dreary sort of dirt street with a row of 15 houses, no trees, no grass, no flowers, lots of sun. I use to know every family and how many children were in each family too. However, the penitentiary was very promenient in the lives of the people in the community. Mainly because we lived by the sounds of the whistles, the early one to get up for school and work, the noon whistle was for lunch, the five o’clock was for dinner, and the nine o’clock whistle to be at home or in bed depending on your age. If you were late for any of the whistles, believe me it meant trouble.

During the summers, we use to wait for the sun to go down behind the prison so that a shadow was casted over Monhagen; then, you could hear one of the kids screaming-- "BASEBALL, BASEBALL!" You knew that the kid had a ball of some sort--soft, hard, tennis, rubber. We couldn’t keep a ball too long because if it got popped over the prison wall, it was lost forever. Every once in a while a ball would come back, so we would do our little "boogie woogie" dance and yell our thank you’s as loud as we could. I really think it depended on which patrolman with a gun was walking the wall while we were playing.

The loud announcement --"BASEBALL, BASEBALL" was for any one who wanted to play ball. Kids would come from every where to play. Before we chose the team, we would size each other up to see if we had enough good players to put together a good game. Then, we would choose our teams I am a strong hitter, so I was pretty popular my nickname was "Candy Campinelli" after the famous ball player Roy Campinella. You know, I was proud of my distinction--"Heavy Hitter", but I have never been a fast runner, so we had to have someone on our team who was not a good hitter but could run fast. They usually would hit before me because if they got to first or second base I could hit and bring them home. We had a great time.

We would play for hours or until the first five oclock whistle blew; then, every one would pick up his or her belongings and run for home. You had to be at the dinner table by 5 o’clock before the last 5 o’clock whistle blew, or you just might miss dinner or not be allowed to sit at the table. Every one knew the rules.

After dinner we would gather together on some ones front or back steps and "shot the bull" or talk about our game. In the movie Dances with Wolves Kevin Costner got tired of the Native Americans telling the same story over and over again about the buffalo hunt, but I truly think all people do it. Because we would tell the same story over and over and embellish on it; then, "lie, lie, lie" about it, I would demonstrate my hit or how "Little Junior" caught the ball that made our team have the highest score. We didn’t keep records too well, I never knew how many innings we played in a game because we played as long as we could and relished every minute.

Once it seemed as though most of the kids were at camp or away at their grandparent’s house in the South for the summer, so the team’s pickings were really slim. As a result, we had a team where I was the captain and the other team’s captain picked all the strongest kids for his team. The argument was that I was the "Heavy Hitter," so the weak team would win any ways. I didn’t think it was fair, but I let my arrogance check in and took all the weakest players. I played so hard that it was the worst game I have ever played in my life; of course, we didn’t win. We all talked about the easy win for the team of strong players, who were usually the weakest ones, and I told them that I would never play a game like that again. The game was so boring and no fun at all. Needless to say, after that day we never had a game like that again. We learned that in order to have a good team a team must have weak and strong players, so that a weak player can have an opportunity to shine as well. We all need each other. In the scheme of things and in life, it was a lesson well worth learning, and it has served me well throughout my life. All because of a baseball game where all the weak players were put on one team, and all the strong players served on another---boring. "Summertime and the living is easy, so hush little baby don’t you cry." By Karean Williams