I had known "Steaks" as a kid, he was just plain Steve back then and he was my best friend, he was my only friend. Route 95 was being built and many houses that laid in its path were being taken by eminent domain and torn down. There was a mass exodus of people, the only ones who did not leave were waiting for the state to take their homes and waiting for resettlement, needed repairs and fresh coats of paint were put off as it would be ludicrous to fix a house only to have it be demolished. Many people rented their homes to transits while they waited for the wrecking ball. Anyone who could get out , left, and those who were left behind lived in a slum. That part of town got a bad reputation, as did it's residents, some of it deserved and some not.
There were not too many families left and there were no children my age to play with .I was a very lonely child. I had set out one day walking, and I came upon the ball field on Ninth street, I sat on the sidelines watching the kids play ball, they were choosing sides but they were short one player, this husky dark haired guy, Steve, points to me and says , "You , you're on my team ", now I had never played ball in my life, I didn't even own a glove or a ball, which I told him. He said , "Don't worry about it, I have an extra glove and you can play left field , if the ball comes to you ,just throw it to me."
Steve was the pitcher and he was a great athlete, he was striking out the sides , I was starting to fall asleep in left field when all of a sudden I hear the crack of the bat and this fly ball was coming right at me, I was paralyzed with fear and I put the glove up to shield my face, and wouldn't you know it the ball goes right into my glove.I was ecstatic.To me it was the greatest thing in the world to have caught that ball.
Steve and I became very good friends, best friends, we just hit it off, everyday we would practice on the ball field and talk about the Phillie's and imagined playing for the hometown team.
The summer passed quickly ,and that school year people began to look at me differently, whereas before I was the kid from the slums, now I gained respect because I was friends with Steve. I thought that was funny because I was the same person as I was before. It's incredible how peer pressure can make you or break you.For the first time I actually looked forward to going to classes.
Often Steve and I would walk home together from school , I remember the first time he invited me into his home, his mother greeted him with a kiss on the top of his head and a hug ,that image was burned into my memory and I was envious of him as I never had anyone give me a hug or a kiss , none that I could remember , she welcomed me in and asked me my name,and asked where did I live?, her eyes opened widely when I told her where. But she welcomed me in and told me to go into the living room , Steve's brothers were all in there watching Bandstand on television and doing their school work. We all started doing our homework and I was grateful for this as I needed a lot of help .
Steve's mom,whom I addressed as Mrs Kerchefsky , asked if I wanted to stay for dinner , I said YES! as fast as I could, as the aroma's and smells coming from her kitchen were making me hungry. She asked If I needed to call home, and I told her that was unnecessary as they would not care, I remember she looked at me incredulously and asked me why wouldn't they care,
I just told her matter of fact that dinner was served at a certain hour and if I was not there I would not eat, I remember the look on her face , at first I thought I said something that hurt her feelings , it was hard to describe and I did not have the words to explain it then but today I would say it was a look of compassion.Mr Kerchefsky came home and and we ate. The dinner was terrific, I had never tasted food like that as our meals at the place where I stayed were very simple and plain. I thanked her several times. The Kerchefsky's were good kind people.
One day shortly before Christmas, Steve had a plan to go downtown and he was including me to go with him, he had been there several times with his family but never on his own. I had never been there at all. Downtown was a distant land to me with only the tops of the tall skyscrapers visible from my bedroom window , I had heard stories from the other kids of what fun it was to visit the department stores which were all decorated for Christmas.Even though we could walk there , it was decided to take the subway , another thing which I never experienced. There was only one problem , money to pay for the trip, I had absolutely no money at all. Steve looked me in the eye and said . don't worry about it, he would take care of everything,his Mother kept money in her pocketbook which he was allowed to take. .
On the day we left for our journey, the sky was overcast and the temperature was under 32 degrees, there had been a forecast for snow, it was a perfect day in the eyes of a child.I remember waiting for the train in the underground subway, the smell of electricity was in the air, the platforms were crowded with people dressed in their finest, at the time this was the mecca of all shopping in Philadelphia, there were very few department stores that were outside of center city, people came from all over to shop, dine and window shop.
A light appeared in the tunnel and in the distance the sound of rolling thunder could be heard, with a blast of wind the train came into the station and with a screech it came to a halt.We managed to make our way to a window seat, and with anticipation we counted off each station that we passed through until finally we reached our destination at eighth and Market. The department stores, Gimbels, Strawbridges, Lit Brothers and Wanamaker's , all had underground entrances from the subway, we entered into a wonderful exciting world as the automatic doors opened for us.,
I tried to take in every sight and sound. We came upon a moving escalator which we took to the sixth floor, the toy department, it was incredible . We both headed to the HO train displays where there were several tracks set up in a miniature town, there were Christmas decorations , wreaths, trees , tinsel and lights and then there was Santa Clause,who had a throne in every store with hundreds of kids waiting in line to tell him what they wanted, Steve actually believed in him but I knew better as I was told it was all nonsense . Could there really be a person on this earth that was so good , so kind and so generous that he would grant the wish of every child that asked ? A part of me wanted to believe.
In the basement of Lit Brothers department store there was a custard stand that sold hot dogs as well, it was a meal fit for a King, Steve said there was one more spot that we had to see before we headed home, it was on to Wanamaker's which had an incredible light show in it's great courtyard. Everything was in darkness as we entered and suddenly the deep voice of John Facenda filled the air, this was a big deal to us , as Mr Facenda was on television. Then the show began with thousands of lights, it was a memory that I have kept for years. I looked around at the faces of the other kids who were there, some sitting on top of the shoulders of their parents, some holding their hands or sitting next to them on the floor, and I felt alone.
All the way on the train and on our walk home we talked and recounted all that we had seen, my best friend had paid for everything. I must have thanked him dozens of times.
That Monday in school we told of our adventure to our classmates and we became the envy of them all. Many asked us to take them the next time we went. It was a case for bragging and I relished in it all.
Even on our walk home from school that Monday , we were still talking about the trip and reminding each other of all that we seen, as if we could ever forget.As usual Steve invited me in ,he walked in first through the door, but as I walked behind him, Mrs Kerchefsky stuck her hand out and stopped me at the door, it was very sudden and caught me by surprise. She said that Steve would be right out, That was unusual as I had always been welcomed in almost as part of the family. Maybe they were cleaning or even painting , I thought , as I made up a thousand excuses .
.Their house faced the corner and there was a pole facing their front door which I stood by, an hour passed according to the clock that was on the Church Steeple across the street, I debated whether to knock on their door, could it be possible that they forgot about me? The wind was picking up kicking up the snow that had fell the night before and the afternoon sky turned to evening with the sun setting in the distance.
Two hours had passed and I tried to think of many reasons why they would leave me outside without a word. The warm glow of their lights went on in their home and I slowly started the walk to where I lived, every few feet I would turn around and look at their closed door,sometimes walking backwards, maybe just maybe , the door would open and they would say "Come in", maybe it was just an oversight and they did not realize I was outside. I walked the blocks and looked back every few feet until I could no longer see their front door, and then this feeling entered me, I felt it at first in my stomach and then it made its way past my chest and into my throat and I realized that I was quite alone.
