Neighbors

Jay and me September 1954

I must confess that I was quite small when we lived on West 12th Street and I don't remember all of our neighbors.  That being said I do remember the notables.  That is those that were notable to me.

A couple of my favorite neighbors were Mr. and Mrs. Bell.  I think they were among my favorites because I was a little fascinated by their house and the way they lived.  The Bell's just seemed to be people who lived a very simple if not poor life.  The house it self, as I remember, was just a wood frame unpainted clapboard house with a tin roof.  It had a screened in front porch and it was surrounded by Mrs. Bell's flowers, and it seemed that she tended those blooms most every day.  There were also a few large trees in the yard and in the back yard at least one very large Live Oak.  I remember that tree particularly well because they had a chicken coop under the tree, and, from time to time, I and my brother would look over the fence and witness the brutal slaying of one of Mrs. Bells very fine and large chickens.  I must tell you that I also remember the smell of her cooking those "poor" creatures.  I'm not sure I ever felt bad for the chickens but to my brother and I it was a wonder to watch those headless chickens run around the coop until they ran out of blood.  It was truly a wonder.

As I recall to the left of their house the Bell's had a large vegetable garden that was regularly tended by Mr. & Mrs. Bell both but it did seem to me that Mrs. Bell was in the vegetable garden a bit more than Mr. Bell.  I remember watching them both in the garden, stooped like old folks tend to be.  He wearing his familiar bib overalls with brogan shoes and a straw hat and she wearing her flour sack flowered dress with a full length apron and a "sun bonnet".  They were both leathery brown from so many long hours in the bright Florida sunshine and they seemed forever bent over with hoes in hand working each row in a their meticulous way so as to not miss a single weed. As you can imagine they appeared as one would picture a typical "farm" couple but who were planted oddly in the town limits.  I'm fairly certain that they were the only family in our neighborhood without indoor plumbing.  I know this because they had the one and only outhouse in the neighborhood.  That icon of American history and folklore stood off to the far side of their property in, of all places, a banana tree grove.  I am also rather certain that they didn't have electricity because as I remember I use to see that warm yellow glow of kerosene lamps burning in the windows.  I am, to this day, fascinated by these two earthy individuals.

Another of my most remembered neighbors was Mrs. Tweety.  At this point, I must confess to you that in spite of her being one of my most remembered neighbors, I have, to this very day, never seen Mrs. Tweety.  That's right.  In the years we lived on West 12th Street, I never once saw Ms. Tweety but, my mother assures me that she in fact was there the whole time.  What I remember most about Ms. Tweety, or should I say Mrs. Tweety's house,  was that it was one of the most well tended and cozy houses and gardens you could ask for.  The grass was always well trimmed and neat and she had two large evergreens that filled her front yard along with well manicured shrubs that surrounded the little white house.  I think what fascinated us most, was that her house and lawn were always so well maintained but, there was never anyone outside or around the house.  Never.  It was as though the house and property took care of themselves. It was I think a little magical or shall we say witchy to us kids.  I even remember that when we played in the front yard of our house, which faced hers, we were very careful to not let a ball or anything else stray in Mrs. Tweety's yard.  If such a thing happened you can be sure that we were quick to get it out as fast and as stealthily as possible.  I don't know why but we were always wary of crossing a lady who seemed to be more specter than neighbor.  And who lived in a seemingly magical if not scary house.  It was, most certainly, one of those mysteries of childhood.

One quick note with regards to Mrs. Tweety.  Some years later when we acquired our first television set and I saw a Sylvester and Tweety Bird cartoon, I felt fairly certain that our neighbor, Mrs. Tweety, most probably looked like Tweety Birds owner the little old lady.  Part of Mrs. Tweety's yard can be seen in the background of the picture above.

Well there you have a little bit of neighborhood folklore.  Hope it takes you back and reminds you a little of some of your childhood neighbors and that those memories are as fond as are mine.  I'll write more about other of our neighbors in the not to distant future.  There are some rather interesting ones that I think you will be able to enjoy.