May11, 2007
Don Ng
On the one day that Evi had no school and Gavin had no Gymboree and Sebastian was still confined to his infant seats as my newest and fourth grandchild, Heather and I decided to visit a zoo. This was not any zoo. It was the Franklin Park Zoo, a place where I spent many days of my childhood in Roxbury.
On the last full day of my visit to see Sebastian, our Thursday field trip was sunny and warm but not like the hot, humid, and hazy days of what summer days that I can remember. Meteorologists used to write “HHH” on their TV forecasts when those days are expected.
Before we decided to go to Franklin Park Zoo, I was unaware of my deep desire to see my old neighborhood where I was born and grew up. I read someplace that significant renovations have been done on the zoo and I Heather agreed that that was a good reason to go. She checked online and learned that it was $11 for adults and $6 for children and it was only Sebastian who could get in free. I was happy that the lady told me that if I had AAA, I would get $1 off. Not bad! Chinese Americans are always happier when there’s a discount to what we would buy.
In Heather’s Honda Odyssey, we keyed into her “Sally” GPS, “Franklin Park Zoo,” and we were off. Arriving in front of the zoo, right on Blue Hill Ave. the main avenue of my neighborhood, we found free parking. I noticed the white marble Corinthian column archway was under renovation. It had wild animal relief carvings that I remember. Once inside the zoo, I noticed that the main grassy mall with wide walkways on both sides were now interrupted with animal exhibits. I pointed out to Heather how one of these walkways that we were on abruptly ended with an exhibit of ostrich and elk.
Imitating the way of modern zoos where lions and tigers are not locked up in small cells surrounded by bars and fed a slab of steak, the zoo now features natural habitats where the animals are supposed to roam and run free. Winding through one of the habitats, I noticed the stone castle tower that we used to play in. It’s now integrated into one of the habitats.
The birdhouse with its distinctive oriental façade is just how I remembered it to be. For some reason the giraffe were not out even though it was warm outside. Evi was disappointed that there were no giraffes. And we didn’t see any elephants. I wonder if this zoo was also deemed unfit to house elephants like in San Francisco. After two or three elephants died at the SF Zoo, the zoological society or some sort of regulating organization closed down the elephant exhibit and moved the rest of them to reserves.
After making sure we have seen everything to see by checking the field map we got when we came in, we decided it was time to leave and hopefully for the kids to nap in the car. I was thinking that perhaps it was time to get back to Norfolk as soon as possible. But when Heather asked which way to see my old house, I became excited. The zoo was fun for Evi and Gavin especially when we saw the gorillas. At one point, we saw a mother, father, and a little gorilla, which we assume, is the “baby.” The baby gorilla snatched something to eat from his mother or it could have been her father! For me, coming to Franklin Park Zoo was a chance to visit my old neighborhood Roxbury.
When we drove our of the zoo, we turned left onto Blue Hill Ave. On the other end of this avenue was Quincy Street where I used to live. We quickly came to Grove Hall where the trackless electric busses used to turn around. The second storefront on the left was my father’s laundry where I spend many days after school. At the end of the block was a drugstore. Next to this used to be the Grove Hall Savings Bank that is now a church. Down there on the left was a bowling alley where we played candlepin. We didn’t have ten-pin bowling when we grew up.
When we bear right onto Blue Hill Ave, I began noticing the many new buildings that have been built since the 1968 race riots that pretty much burned down my neighborhood. The large Catholic church was still there. But Ashmount Supply, a hardware store before the days of Home Depot supplied us with everything we needed was gone before I moved out of Roxbury in 1969. I couldn’t believe how short of a distance it was from the zoo to my father’s laundry from the laundry to my street.
Since we ran out of water and Heather wanted to get some gas, we pulled into the Citgo gas station on the corner of Blue Hill Ave. and Quincy Street. There used to be all stores on this block. When I came out with two bottles of water, a young white woman approached me to ask if I knew where Columbia Road was. She had three young girls all buckled in their seat belts in the back seat. I told her that I did know where Columbia Road was since I used to live here. I asked if they just visited the zoo like we did and she said, “Yes.” I guess that I was a safe person to stop to ask for directions since I was Chinese American with a young white woman and three kids buckled in their seat belts in the back seats. I told her to go down my street, Quincy Street and the next major street would be Columbia Road. I was proud that I still knew the old neighborhood!
On the corner of Quincy used to be a drugstore with an old-fashioned soda fountain that my brother Steven used to work. Frappes were shaken up in those stainless steel mixers and its content poured into a real glass. A lime ricky with a slice of lime was served in a tapered paper cup nestled in a stainless steel holder. Lime rickys were thirst quenchers during those HHH days.
Across from where the soda fountain used to be is now a new educational building named, Dr. Michael Hayes Education Center. Dr. Hayes is the pastor of Twelfth Baptist Church on Warren Ave. Dr, Hayes once taught me in college that if I ever became a pastor to always have another income paying job so to not become complacent in my prophetic voice. He’s been prophetically true about that.
As we drove down Quincy Street, we quickly came to a three-storied red brick building that was the Phillip Brooks Elementary School where I and all my brothers and cousins attended. It is now a retirement home. I was glad to see that this building was still standing and not destroyed. And just kitty-corner to the school was our house—a three flat home where Sem, Shirley, Ling, Jimmy and their parents lived on the first floor, Ruth, Melvin, Donna and their parents lived on the second floor, and my three brothers Richard, Philip, Steven and I lived with our parents on the third floor. The house was abandon by our family when no one wanted to buy it. When we owe more property taxes than the value of the house, the city repossessed it and sold it to someone. It has light yellow siding now but when we lived there, it was green with yellow trim. I know this because my brothers and I once painted the house ourselves. I wonder what the inside looks like now. I wonder if some of the treasures that we hid in the backyard are still there to be discovered by some kid.
As we drove down toward Columbia Road, I was right in giving directions to the woman at the gas station. I pointed to Heather that up that street was my junior high school. And as we passed Ceylon Street, I told Evi that I used to play baseball there and hit my first homerun. When we turned right onto Columbia Road, “Sally” the GPS showed a green park area and sure enough, Ceylon Field was still there to hit more homeruns.
I still can’t believe how close everything in my childhood was in relation to each other. For short legs of a kid, I always thought how far we had to walk when we carried groceries home from the Stop & Shop on Blue Hill Ave. I remember getting blisters on my hands when there was a sale of canned goods: 10 cans of cream-style corn for $2.
Once we got on Columbia Road, Heather showed me how to touch screen “Sally” to “Go Home” and soon we were on familiar roads going through Dedham where Heather and Greg first lived after college.
Someone once said something like “You can take the person out of his/her physical surroundings but you can’t take the physical surroundings out of the person.” I have not lived n Roxbury for 38 years but Roxbury is still very much inside me.