For most of my life, I grew up in a ranch style home in Yellow Springs, Ohio. It was one mile from my first job at the Young’s Dairy ice cream shop, and I often get a hankerin’ for their sweet scoops served up in a crunchy waffle cone. Problem is, my family moved to the hills of Pennsylvania after I graduated high school, so the closest we get to that ice cold treat is when we’re visiting Scott’s mom and pop in Cincinnati – one hour south of Yellow Springs. It’s a bit of a detour to hit up my old hometown on the drive back to Chicago, but one day in June our cravings got the best of us, and we made it happen. Once we were good and full of a Young’s lunch followed by the sinful dessert, we made a pit stop to my ol’ stomping grounds. And there she was, the one story brick-box in all her glory.
We sat there on their curb, still in the car, while I pointed out to Scott which window was my bedroom (second from the left). I also detailed the story of planting that tree in the backyard, which is now peeking it’s way over the roof and seen from the street, there on the right. The basketball hoop is still in place, just barely visible off the driveway, and I recalled countless hours of trying to make a basket while standing backwards (my record was five times in a row; sadly, no one was there to witness it). And even though those cars parked on the pavement aren’t ours, the minivan conjured up the memories of toting my siblings around to soccer and hockey practices. With a quick click of the camera, the sly stalker in me captured those nostalgic thoughts, and we headed home to Chicago.
Has anyone else tracked down their childhood home? If so, have you had the guts to knock on the door, or is that a step too far? I wonder if my room is still blue or if the tile my mom and dad laid in the kitchen is still in place. I may never know, but it’s comforting to see the exterior almost exactly as we left it almost ten years ago – just a little more mature, with new memories being created inside.
Oh how I do remember spending a lot of exciting weekends in this house with you and your family. Still looks the same as it did years ago. Still can’t believe it has been 10+ years since I have moved, it feels like it should have been yesterday. Oh and Jersey Dairy Farm was the best, Yummy peppermint Ice Cream. I wish I could have some right now.
ah! tramp parties and starlit living room dances…and orange pop comes to mind for some reason!
Emily, I have a photo of the orange pop night! Actually, we all dressed in orange, and one of the “juniors” got their head stuck in a bongo bat. Holy smokes, I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard. And Danielle, why would a pool come down? Ah, I could go for a cold lemonade poolside right about now.
The house my parents first owned is only about a half hour away from me. The last time I looked at it, I didn’t realize how much different the whole neighborhood looked. That was probably about five years ago. I am dying to go past it now, but haven’t done so lately. I would be interested to see if the new owners tore down the pool we had in our backyard.
Oh yes…i remember this house as well! I remember you had a sleep over and we slept in a tent in the backyard until we got scared and went inside. I also remember laying in sleeping bags on the floor of the living room and either Jillian or I (cant remember) called Nancy Tucker “Nancy Panties” and she was very upset by that terribly cruel remark! Haha…we were such nerds!
Jessica, it was definitely Jillian. I remember that well! Fun memories, thanks for sharing. I’m having a laugh right now.
Did Paul mow that lawn or did you? I think you did while he was either watching the Steelers/Penguins or waiting for said season to start!
Dave, you know, I never mowed that lawn in my life. In fact, I’ve never mowed any lawn. That was always one task for Dad, while I helped out inside the house. Most likely, he was mowing the lawn, and I was watching the Stanley Cup Playoffs in May/June so he could get a full run down from me!
I still remember trying to teach Kim how to drive the 1988 Plymouth Horizon with a 5 speed. I don’t think we ever made into second gear. Or, seeing 15 of Kim’s friend all in the backyard on the trampoline at 11 or midnight.