I thoroughly enjoyed David McGrath’s recent Perspective piece, “Why oh why did we wish away those long, ‘boring’ summer days?” McGrath easily transported me back to the early 1950s when I was a kid who also had a favorite tree and a big fat branch from which I could peer into at least six backyards.
There was an ironwork trellis next to our garage. I would easily climb to its leafy top and from there scamper across my neighbor’s garage roof to the large tree branch. From there, I could see Mrs. Johnson watering her grass, my young friend Benjamin taking out the trash and handsome Matthew washing his car.
One momentous day, a new neighbor boy caught me looking down at his house and yard. With thumbs hooked into his jeans pockets, he unsmilingly said to me, “You must be Kathy. I’ve heard all about you.”
Such beautiful words. My tomboy reputation among the children of the block was rock solid. Let summer begin.
— Kathleen Melia, Niles
