Front Porch Sociology

My childhood was relatively carefree and  full of life. During the summer I'd wander around the neighborhood, saying hello to everyone, freely asking them about their day, and studying the world around me.  It wasn't uncommon for me to find a tree and climb it, where I'd sit for long periods of time and study people, or mosey over to a lilac bush, fingering each flower while inhaling its glorious scent.  To this day when I walk past a lilac bush I still get waves of great joy, as the smell brings me back to my days on Bock Street.  The same is true when I wander past wild grapes growing up a vine.  As a child in Upstate NY, all of my senses were continually delighted.  Between the beautiful Fall foliage, Fingerlakes grape growing region, Lilac festivals, and Italian sauce on Sundays, one could never grow bored with life. I remember our neighbors, The Caternolo and Surace families -- both Italian -- would make their special "sauce" on Sunday and invite half the neighborhood over for rigatoni, spaghetti, or the pasta of the week.  There was a real sense of community and my Dad's theory is that community was alive and well on Bock Street because of  all of the front porches. "When they got rid of the front porches they got rid of daily gatherings." I would have to agree with him on that one. Everywhere we've lived, where there weren't front porches . . . well, mingling among neighbors became less common. 


I remember dealing with my first bee sting, at 10 years old, while on that front porch on Bock St., and sitting out with my family as the thunderclouds rolled in and the rain fell, with its sweet scent of fresh grass mingled with wafts of black top gravel.  You could relax on that front porch and analyze the world from a whole new perspective.  People freely came and went, and there were always a few extra plates available at the dinner table just in case someone popped over.  Sometimes my parents Bible study group would spend hours sitting together, crying, laughing and singing right there on the front porch; Mom would get her guitar out and unity would commence.  The neighbors didn't mind, and many ended up coming over to join in and feel the peace and sense of "family."  Across the street were the Kobryns' -- a Greek Family-- and beside us were several Italian families.  We were the Irish family, and then there were others from different ethnic and cultural backgrounds, all welcome on that front porch.  It was where love abounded, food was plentiful and there were no divisions between people.  I think the next house we buy needs to have a front porch.  There really is something to the whole front porch sociology, which needs to come back to American culture again.  Care for a glass of iced tea or cup of coffee anyone?  Let's sit, rock, and tell one another about our day/month/life . . . breathe, bask in the peace and watch the world go by.  Just you and me . . . and a front porch (good sigh). :-)