black elders                            kids playing                                   boy playing in water

I remember a time when neighbors knew each other, held conversation over fences, and broke bread together. I remember Saturdays when the men and sons of the families would cut grass and the women and daughters of the house would cook Sunday dinner, get their hair pressed or permed, and prepare their clothes for Sunday service. I remember going fishing on Saturdays after piano lessons and grocery shopping. I remember mothers and fathers going to PTA meetings with their children. I remember parents going to neighborhood school programs and having friendly conferences with the teachers. I remember the community coming to the school to celebrate music programs and academic award banquets. I remember the older folks in the neighborhood not being afraid of the children of the neighborhood. I remember most of the children of the neighborhood showing respect to the Elders. I remember going to the neighborhood baseball games when we had a baseball field. I remember going to the bookmobile and standing in line to check out two books from Mrs. Jones. I remember the “Fruit Truck” that we spent our lunch money on for chips, candy, and giant pickles. I remember the Ice Cream truck that rode through the neighborhood in the afternoons. I remember the kickball games in the middle of the streets. I remember the streets being full of brand new bikes on Christmas morning. I remember neighborhood kids eager to play OUTSIDE after Saturday morning cereal and cartoons. I remember standing at the school bus stops comparing homework answers. I remember getting into fights and patching up friendships the next day. I remember talking with some of the Elders to stay out of trouble. I remember the happy times, sad times, and hard times. I remember a neighborhood. I remember Cloverdale.‪#‎ilovemyneighborhood‬