Monday, October 09, 2017

 

Growing Up As Part Of A Neighborhood...

By: Donovan Baldwin

In 1945, at the end of World War II, my dad started work at the Pensacola Naval Air Station, while I was busy being born in Atlanta, Georgia.

He found a home for us, Mom, my sister, and me, and brought us down to Florida six weeks later in a 1939 Ford, I believe.

We lived in an area called Warrington, which lay between Pensacola, and the Naval Air Station.

Warrington had a grocery, a drugstore, a hardware store, shoe repair, a barber, a gas station, and other amenities.

Dad drove to work through the shopping area daily for the next 30 years.

We moved three times over the next four years, but, in 1949, my parents bought the house I lived in for the next 20+ years. I went to school in Warrington. We shopped there. All my friends, until high school, lived there.

People in the drug store, the grocery, the gas station, knew me as "Mr. Baldwin's boy". I had identity and community.

I think that is one of the finest gifts I was given, with health, and a good education...that feeling of being known and identified as part of a neighborhood, a community, for all the years of my childhood and youth.

So many kids today don't get to know that.

Always sure of myself as "Mr. Baldwin's boy", I also got to be Tom Sawyer, running off with Huck Finn on the Mississippi, or sometimes Jim Hawkins, aboard the HispaƱola, at sea in search of treasure, with adventurers and pirates.

I did try to build a raft. I climbed trees and sat in them staring out at the bay, dreaming of Treasure Island, and listening to the waves, and, for the voice of Long John Silver.

I got to be a boy, living among friends before "growing up"...or did I ever really grow up? Sometimes I wonder.

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