We had acorns, I mean we had acorns, in Takoma Park, this
was before Montgomery College in Montgomery County Maryland was build along the
row of Takoma Ave, before then it was big houses, for a bridge used to lay
where the college now stands, as a direct access to Washington D.C., but
between the time of the bridge and Montgomery college all along Takoma Ave lay
great Oak trees, the kind that cover the sky in canopy of eighty to over a
hundred feet with their hundreds of great bases stretching into massive black
branches crossing the sky, old branches reaching in every direction, up them as
everywhere in Takoma Park lay thousands of acorns falling everywhere, forget
the squirrel population of the next year; lets find us and boys preparing for
the daily acorn fights, Philip, and I figured on using our news paper bags from
carrying the Washington Star an evening paper in the late 70’s in Washington
D.C. area soon to be over taken by the Washington Post making D.C. a one paper
town, which meant a lot back then. Everybody still read the papers on their
porches, evening chair, it was different, getting news. We had these things
brimming with acorns, the streets and ground were already covered, where acorns
where scooped with snow shovels and trash cans to clear them, as well being
smashed into asphalt like a carpet. Philip and I roughed it but some boys would
come with pads on the arms and hats covering there heads, the game, well the on
going war with the boys from down the street was on full tilt, and we roamed
the neighborhood as well running our turf. We had the pick of the biggest
fattest acorns from just the right trees for as boys we knew all our trees in
the neighborhood it was our solemn duty, a right of passage of being an
accomplished boy, using the best of what lay at hand. The acorns were as big as
an inch or more hard and heavy with meat, just right for smacking some unfortunate
acorn battler in a good fight and strong enough to leave a welt. You see boys,
lots of acorns, like mad, crazy amount of acorns, just plain too many at once,
acorns equaled acorn battles among all the boys daring to be out. That was it
pretty much for a week, just boys and acorn battles every where. We had been
using piles of acorns as our defense like and sneak attack but had realized our
acorns could be taken by over whelming forces, with us skirting from our place
of attack we needed to be mobile, not with buckets like Philip suggested or
with my Hong Kong Phooey lunch box and Philip’s, old Roy Rogers Box cause you
ran out to soon cause and they kept falling out besides mom saying , “What are
you doing with your lunch box?” we
created secret piles of acorns all over the defensive zones, and carried our
mail bags with us making us mobile with ammo aplenty we could reach in a
running fight. Our home turf being set the best and final defensive line the
Ryan’s home. It lay at the top Jacquie
Park , and held the high
ground for around it was a row of bushes and a small hill going up. We were
already good sneakers in broad daylight are small frames in easy to hide as we
moved forward towards our prey. We leaped out sending zingers. I mean some
times a fellow took one no the arm or leg, back a stomach was a shot but the
real welters were right in the forehead of the poor fellow, they would be in
injured status in retreat for a while to recuperate, but soon to re-join we had
a safe zone like a penalty box in hockey. I give the metaphor for it really
applies, for the war would still be on with whooping and shouting full of
laughs and “Oos” and, “Got you” or a taunt shouted. Boyz in a kind of wound up
wild abandon, living the fever of a new game testing skill, our fortitude as
mini soldiers, we were having so much fun, hot sweaty, running need a drink
from the old cement water fountain, banging into each other rolling around
laughing jumping and testing and laughing, and ever of course attacking with
intensity, which Philip would have a special face for attacking. Philips face
in such a manor of saying and doing was such a complete change from his waving
arms, hands, and jolly self, he put on the “Straight Face” to prepare for
warrior mode. This face of sternness upon his face littered with freckles and
his constant good countenance of nature was like a kitten looking tuff,
“Totally un-believable!” as he would exclaim at only the most extraordinary
events. Philip was so calm mannered, and a goof, so this face of his would make
me crack up. I couldn’t hold it back, and it would come bubbling out. Philip
would be off on a charge expecting me to be with him, but if I caught that face
of his. I would stop dead in my tracks cracking up. He would still be charging
with that face getting mad at me and be yelling at me “What are you doing?”
which he was often asking me, and “Stop laughing.” The face would lose the
match for us as our attackers, usually Brian and Mike would just move in and
start peppering Philip with acorns, and I’m watch as acorns are bouncing onto
the ground after they left their mark, Philip covering his head and the mad
look at me remained on his face, cause Philip never got mad, not really. Well I
saw it twice once with the atomic wedgie and the other later, for now I’m just
watching him in retreat and cracking up. I never got close enough for them to
get a bead on me, I was always quick, even while laughing I kind of laughed
more cause they would be mad at me for being so quick, and I would easily dodge
their throws, and these were my bullies of type so, I had to be careful. This
of course lead to the peppering of Philip and me laughing more. “Bing” Bonk”
“Dink’ “Donk-ong” a ricochet that hits mark, from front as your running they
let loose on him. I was no use sometimes. Philip would get so fake mad, and be
yelling at me, and then come over and quietly plan the next melee with me. We
were soldiers.
“I had to get the face Philip
said.” I guess his dad used it on him, face and it worked, just the once or
twice he spoke directly to me fine, that’s all he did was speak to me, and I
froze, stuck by his voice grounded to the spot. I mean in a quick minuet with
the whole “Yes sir” included. Mr. Ryan was a big man, I mean a big man, too a
little kid for he was over 6 feet tall and had wide shoulders and just plain
girth to him, not a fatty girth but one made from being a big man. He spoke
very little to the children individually; there were twelve of them from his
first wife and she raised them all. I think Philip most of all. Mr. Ryan was
all I knew and was told the rules of the house when I was young because I was
baby sat their. That’s when Philip and I would sneak into the pantry and eat
cool aid by pouring into our mouths, it was the sugary kind, and he taught me
at five about bread butter and sugar as we snuck some off the dinning room
table, long set table set with a long table cloth, is held them all, or most of
them, I was the smallest, always in the Ryan’s house, except when I stayed
there on baby sitting then I was treated like Philip minus the piano lessons
the only way would really get away with what we all were doing was not letting
the parent know. It’s funny how much in life we just don’t want mom or dad to
know about.
Now we older full fledged get dirty
playing foot ball with just five Aaron would always be a quarter back. I was
never allowed to play quarter back, when he was around. He said, “There are no
black quarter backs.” And took the job. Philip would always say that was silly
but Mike and Brain would chime in and he would be quarter back me and Philip
and I on one side and Mike and Brain on the other. Philip was the only one I
wanted to play with cause I knew he treat me fare, so that’s were it wound us
boys playing football with a little K2 that was the best, running up and down the
field played a lot of pitch backs cause two or three kids can run all over the
place, and if one of us was falling we would do our best to pitch it. We would
use our jacket and shirts on hot days, no sticks. “You can fall on them” and
“No trees” as boundaries cause once we did to be able to play in dry part of
the field and Philip, had caught the ball then one two steps, the tree. It was
bad, he hit full on because he had already turned to run, poor Philip, was
quick but didn’t turn well, or stop quick, and his body just wrapped around the
tree, and the ball spit out, then in slow motion he fell. He got up bloody and
well kid knows where home is when he is hurt bad, and he just struggled to his
feet and we kinda walked him across the street. Boys ain’t good at that game
was over. We boys played football on that field everyday, getting home sweaty,
dirty, hungry, and played out. Most of the time Philip and I lost. I see Aaron,
Brain, and Mike had it figured that was. They was taught that, so it was, Aaron
would play better for their side. Once we had a whole bunch of kids playing one
year from around the neighborhood, about eight to ten of us, with our picked
quarter back. Most these kids were older than me so I was still bottom man on
list, until with a fair shot. I got a fair shot, I could run and catch pretty good,
and was hard to tackle, even at nine. It was hard for me to play against Philip
the face and the running with his head bobbing would just make me crack up. I
was faster than him, but his head bobbing along with the way he ran all wacko
like would leave me cracking up. I guess if I had a best friend as a little
boy, it was Philip.
We were loaded and sure our new
tactics would win the day. We skirted trees, hedges, and parked cars making our
way down Takoma across where stands now the Montgomery Community College, but
we were across the street, sneaking until we saw them coming right up the
middle of the road, just as plain as could be for they had made mobile carts
with trash cans full of acorns and a shield the hide behind and mobile made
them far more effective. Philip started up the front throwing them in handfuls
in grenade style straight at them and then I sent zingers side ways, fast and
hard coming from the side and running as I threw acorns across their flank. We
used backwards quickly for we were taking hits they had got to duck most of
what we threw behind their carts then race forward attacking, we quickly went
to higher ground putting the cart after taking a full retreat which were called
often, that’s how we did it with war cries, or laughing as someone gets a good
one when they’re running which was me laughing at Philip, cause when it came to
retreat, as fast as I came I went and would pass Philip their main target at
the moment for had out distanced them on speed and my zingers. You see you got
to throw side ways first as a boy to learn to throw and it take a long time
cause most boys throw like girls when they are kids until they start throwing
sideways, and if you was real good zingers can hurt from a long way, further
than any over hand throw. We beat tail up the road with both boys right behind
us until we took a left over the hedge and up the hill taking the higher ground
at the Ryan’s house pelting and using the high ground we waited for the
enviable call on Takoma avenue “Car!” someone yelled and the boys had to clear
the street or turn down Albany. That is where we wanted them. They had as much
ammo as we did but our higher ground took the sting out of their shot while we
were finally landing a few above the shield, no official wounds, or route,
until they decided to try to take the park in retreat. The park in one spot had
the real fat acorns like a supper ball with a deep think core and hard shell,
it was our best ammo. We charged across the hill for really we were
undefeatable in our own park, and we could move much faster with skill moving
within and out of all the equipment, we had mastered that long ago. I we real
young then, I swung on my belly pushing with my little feet just to swing up in
the air after a parent would not push me any longer. A long time since Philip and I met at five, gee a whole buch of years. We met at the swings. There is a definite mass
to swing weight ratio going on here, and finally the boy using the stand method
of kneeling and pumping your legs to get the swing going real fast, as a kid it
was the only way we could get the swings going. Standing holding the chains and
get a swing and pump the next at the g force interval of the swing kick in.
Philip’s mom would be watching all the time and when acorns started bouncing on
the long porch with a swing at the end, she would come out the door. “Philip.”
As decree as in all boyhood a parent in any form was really not down with what
we as kids did so we stopped and waited, and we all could get in trouble as
well but the first motivation rules the second. Our little mini war would rage
for a few more days, until the rains came. The acorns soon became a city issue
causing unsafe roads, drains stopped, and they had to send crews to unload the
roads with big huge vacuum hoses for the leaves and a pickup for the acorns
first. Most would be involved and the whole street got involved, the community.
It was a big deal for all kids cause we loved it we these big burly black men
would come in groups, and then in all the noise and rush the acorns where gone,
Autumn moved on. The acorns never fell like that again, well not for a long
time.
THOR
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