Where I grew up there was no dominant nationality (as we use to call them.) There were probably more Italians (as we use to call Italian American’s) than Irish and tons of everyone else. (Well, not everyone. By everyone I mean specifically from land in between a few longitudes and latitudes that just happens to cross at points in Europe, with some exceptions of course.
We had French and Poles and Armenians (goddamn Turks) with a smatterin’ of Greeks and African Americans and who knows what else?
And Jews. You wanna talk Jews? I’ve been to both Torfs. I can match any goy on here for number of times a yarmulke has been on the head. Note I said “on here” BMG reader. And I have turned off electric lights after the sun went down on Sabbath for members of the tribe. In fact, as a kid I would on occasion accompany another goy friend whose job it was to turn off the synagogue lights on Friday nights. We didn’t screw around either. Not like when we were altar boys. Boy did we screw around then.
Okay, what else?
Lots of intermingling. When I was a kid I was in the center of the beginnings of some super races taking over years from now; the interbreeding of the Irish and Italians and Jews (yes Jews) and Poles. Statistically, one of those kids will end up with all positive genes and none of the negatives and whammo! It’s curtains for the rest of us.
I don’t remember too many Protestants although their churches were all over the place so they were out there. But when I grew up you were either Jewish or Catholic.
We had social clubs too, tons of them too. Because of all the inter-marrying it not uncommon for the head guy at the Polish club to have a last name like McCormick.
We had a druggist that filled prescriptions by listening to you tell him what was wrong then hand you some codeine or valiums or penicillin or the Oxeyes of their time. And it didn’t cost an arm and a leg. And he sold beer on Sundays. (shhhhh) Life was grand.
We had bar rooms and liquor stores open at 7:00 a.m. filling the same needs Dunkin Donuts does today.
We talked sports, chicks, and funny stuff. People didn’t talk much about jobs. But it was number one priority for every one.
Jobs jobs jobs. There was always someone looking. So best we keep bettering ourselves either through showing up on time a working hard at our current job (that’s how you get promoted moron) and/or through education.
What else?
There were single family homes but more two and three family homes. In many you would find the extended family with off-the boat grandma and/or grandpa living on the first floor and kids grandkids living in another. Third apartment was great for income. (“off the boat” was the official term back then for people from another country that live here now )
I remember my friend’s grandfather, he was off the boat from Italy, had pigeons he raised. He had them a long time and was getting old. He sold them to a guy in New Hampshire but they kept flying back. The guy in New Hampshire was pissed. They eventually figured it out. (I think the old man went on line or something) This old dude also made his wine in the cellar that packed a punch so hard I’ve been chasing the high since seventh grade. He smoked those tiny cigars old Italian guys smoke. You know the ones I mean.
I’ve had the seven fishes (well, I usually pass by most of it) and I expect nothing less then a whole goat outside roasting when I arrive at a Greek festivity.
Oh yeah, you know what else we had? We had mentally and physically challenged people around. We knew them by name. Many had jobs at local businesses, like a busboy at a deli. (We had tons of delis too. Real ones; not yuppie expensive sub shops that calls themselves delis.) They were part of the fabric of the community. Young kids learned early on not to give them crap. Having them around made the neighborhood a better place. But it was far from a perfect system. There were, I bet too, many more unfortunates hidden inside those homes.
What made where I grew up different from South Boston or the North End or neighborhoods in Dorchester, or East Boston or Charlestown is that there was not a dominant group. Some larger than others but nothing dominant. That’s why I feel superior to those guys. đŸ™‚
It wasn’t a commune but people believed in taking care of their own. But that taking care of own attitude permeated the neighborhood and on some level we considered each other our own. Not at the top of the pecking order of course, but all things even, someone with roots from where I grew up gets a seat on the life raft when I’m in charge and I have some to go around. It’s out of my hands. It’s just the way things are. And it’s a good thing.
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On a completely different subject, I thought I would recommend this short audio book about Boston’s West End.
stomv says
for whom I’d love to buy a beer and then sit back and enjoy the pontification… and most certainly not because I agree with most of it, but because you’ve got the ability to tell stories.
eb3-fka-ernie-boch-iii says
one beer? You cheap bastard.
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p>if I have one I have 12 And I only drink to get drunk.
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p>I’ll put an ocassional round on my tab.
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p>Ocassional
stomv says
Funny stories with one man’s skewed view of history are worth 1 beer. Any real insight, compassion, or politeness is worth at least 3.
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p>You’re still stuck at one.
eb3-fka-ernie-boch-iii says
stomv says
You can dish it, but can’t take it.
eb3-fka-ernie-boch-iii says
reccommend it Please. My life expectancy has become like ten minutes on BMG because of the health care circle jerk goin on.
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p>Give this post some life and reccommend please
peter-porcupine says
eb3-fka-ernie-boch-iii says
Idiots like me assumed you were Catholic.
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p>Then we grew up and learned the ways of the world.
peter-porcupine says
Locked in a coal scuttle once…you know, them wooden box things for coal built on the side of the building?
eb3-fka-ernie-boch-iii says
christopher says
…once told we weren’t Catholic would then ask if we were Jewish. There are plenty of Protestant churches around including the Congregational one in the center of most towns. Once in junior high when the history teacher mentioned that JFK has been our only Catholic President one of my classmates asked in all seriousness if that meant the rest had been Jewish! That was public school. In Catholic high school we all talked about religion more openly and classmates were more likely to acknowledge Protestantism.
jimcaralis says
Sounds a lot like where I grew up. So, Everett, Malden maybe Medford or Somerville. Gotta be one of them…
huh says
Judging from his language patterns, he’s the the right age. And the ethnic and religious mix he describes is just about right:
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p>
paulsimmons says
Sounds about right.
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p>It would be interesting if the words “Charles River Park” make him bulk up and his skin turn green.
eb3-fka-ernie-boch-iii says
They took land from people for pennies on the dollar.
paulsimmons says
…nor Brigham and Women’s, nor Beth Israel, nor Children’s. Harvard teaching hospitals are suppurating boils on the bodies politic of abutting working-class neighborhoods.
tblade says
…you grew up in Worcester?
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p>And you stayed in Worcester for college, studied English at Holy Cross, and then got your JD at Suffolk? And now you live north of Boston, in a Stoneham/Wincester-like place.
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p>That’s how I have you profiled, anyway.
kirth says
another EB3 thread. Once again, the focus is on, yes, RB3. Because after all, what could be more interesting or important than EB3? After all, he’s EB3, and you’re not.
eb3-fka-ernie-boch-iii says
bigd says
He puts on a good show, but don’t let him fool you. He’s probably a Harvard boy with postgrad at Suffolk.
eb3-fka-ernie-boch-iii says
with a post grad at Harvard?
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p>The Divinity School most likely.
bigd says
I’d bet on an MPA or MPP from Suffolk.
paulsimmons says
…you’d be talking about “the inner-connected web of inner-connectedness”, wearing sandals (with socks) in the winter, and preaching in a UU church.
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p>You’re a little too…rough edged for the Harvard Divinity School.
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p>Double or Triple Eagle?
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p>I can see B.C.
eb3-fka-ernie-boch-iii says
have the boorish manners of a Yalee!
paulsimmons says
…a Yalie (correct spelling), sir?
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p>I’m crushed, despondent, and curled in a fetal position in the corner.
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p>I hope you’re satisfied, you brute.