The Road Often Traveled

Four extra minutes. That's all it took to revisit the soccer fields, my grandparents' house, and the places that shaped me. Sometimes the long way home is exactly what you need.

The KOIL-AM building I remember from my youth.

After meeting some friends for lunch, one day last week, I decided to take the long way home. And I hit record on my phone to capture what I thought. Here’s what I said.

One of the reasons I prefer this particular route is that it goes down Harrison Street. I have a lot of fond memories on this street.

The first thing I come across is Seymour Smith Park. When I was young, like seven or eight years old, my mom used to take me to play soccer there. As I’m driving by it right now, there are three soccer fields. The grass is thick and green, and the white stripes are clear and vivid. Several sprinklers make sure the field stays in pristine condition. My mind drifts back to playing fullback on my soccer team with Mom cheering from the sidelines. I was a shy, overweight kid who felt completely out of my element, but it helped me to fit in, at least a little.

As I travel a little farther east. I see a little run-down shack on the south side of the street. I haven’t seen a car parked outside this building in many years. When I was a child, the radio station KOIL-AM used to broadcast from there. Mom often had that station on the radio in our house. If Wikipedia can be believed, the transmitter site is still on Harrison Street, so maybe that building serves its longstanding purpose. The station has been on the air since 1925 (not counting the seven-year hiatus for a scandal).

As I drive a little farther east, I see a grocery store that used to be Skate Town. It wasn’t my preferred place to go roller skating in the 1970s and ‘80s, but I still have fond memories of the place. The benches were covered in shag carpeting – because it was the ‘70s, so why not? There was something freeing about getting out there and skating to the latest tunes, even if admitting that dates me. So be it.

A few blocks east of there, there’s a connecting street called Sunshine Drive that leads to a little tavern where my fortieth high school reunion was held last year. I met one of my best friends from high school at the reunion and we played catch-up. I also asked my friend Clarissa to meet me there. I had invited her thinking I would end up at the reunion by myself, and I wasn’t all that popular in high school, so I didn’t want to be there alone. Well, Clarissa is now my wife.

Here comes 36th Street, where a five and dime store named TG&Y used to exist. My grandmother used to take me there. I’m trying to think of a modern-day equivalent to TGNY, but I can’t. Maybe it’s something similar to Big Lots! The store had a little of everything.

Finally, as I turn down Chandler Road, I get a little emotional as I approach Warren Addition, where my grandparents used to own five houses, and they lived in the one on the corner lot. Most of my childhood Christmases were spent there, as was much of my childhood. I’d go into their front yard and launch my Nerf football into the air, connecting with the farthest tree for many touchdowns. And the steps on the side of the garage played the part of batters as I tossed a tennis ball off them and then went into fielding mode.

A few blocks from there I look to the north and see Venture Church. My grandmother helped start that church in the 1960s. They started meeting in someone’s home, and it went through a couple of name changes, but for most of my life, it was Chandler Acres Baptist Church. Recently, they changed the name again, but it’ll always be Chandler Acres to me.

I pull into my apartment complex and sit in the car for a moment before going inside. Four extra minutes. That’s all it took to visit my grandparents’ house, my mom cheering at soccer games, the shag-carpeted roller rink benches, and the reunion where I spent time with the woman who would eventually become my wife. Some routes take longer. But they remind you that you’re not just going somewhere – you’re connected to everywhere you’ve been.