My years in Fall River, Mass.
I lived there from ages 4 to 7, which spans 1966 to 1969. At that time, Fall River about forty years past its textiles manufacturing peak, as southern competition had deindustrialized the city. My father was invited to run the Chamber of Commerce there, with the hope that he could help revitalize things, and so the family moved.
I recall liking New England, and preferring it to my earlier Hudson County, NJ environs. All of a sudden we had a large yard and things felt nicer. The neighbors were chattier and less surly. The dog (Zero) could run around the neighborhood free, which I found both astonishing and good. I did not understand that the city had fantastic architecture. My father complained about it being provincial.
Whenever we would drive back and forth from NJ to Fall River, my sister and I would see a building in Providence, RI and for whatever reason we called it “the monkey squisher.” For trips to the shore, we would go to Cape Cod, and let the dog run on the beach.
Mr. and Mrs. Jennings were the immediate neighbors, and they treated us almost like their own kids. Their own boy was grown and in the service. Two other neighbors were Kathy and Carol Fata (sp?), who were slightly older than Holly and me, and again super-friendly. I believe they were either Lebanese or Syrian, which was common in Fall River at that time.
Most of all, I was into baseball and baseball cards in those years. I used them to learn some math and statistics, and of course to learn about the players. I watched baseball games on TV all the time, and to this day I remember some baseball stats from that era. I received an autographed baseball from Russ Gibon, Red Sox catcher at the time. Naturally I was a Red Sox fan. I had an allowance of a quarter a week, and on the way home from school would stop at a small newspaper store and buy baseball cards. The 1968 World Series was a huge thrill for me, and I was rooting for the Detroit Tigers and Mickey Lolich. I still remember the close call at the plate with Bill Freehan and Lou Brock.
Most of my reading was books on science and dinosaurs, or books on baseball. I was especially fond of a science book series called “Ask Me Why?”. I looked at maps plenty, and my favorite map was that of Italy, due to the shape of the country.
I recall watching the 1968 presidential election, and having my mother explain it to me. I also watched on TV the funeral procession for RFK, and I asked my grandmother, who then lived with us, why the police guards were not moving. “If they move an inch, they take them out and shoot them!” she snapped back loudly and decisively. In those days, people said things like that.
My kindgarten teacher we called “Mrs. Penguin,” though I doubt that was her real name. She would twist the ears of kids who made trouble, though that was not me. I had a letter box, but it bored me because my reading skills were ahead of those of my classmates. There was a girl named Stephanie in my class, and I thought she was cute. School simply did not seem like a very efficient way to learn.
In my hazy memories, I very much think of the Fall River days as good ones.