EAST AVENUE Memory

WRITTEN BY JOHN R. GREENWOOD | PHOTOS PROVIDED

Everyone loves a porch, and every porch holds a fond memory.

With my 68th summer in high gear, I thought it might be fun to reminisce about my grandparents’ porch on East Avenue in Saratoga Springs. Frances and Elmer Greenwood owned a home there from the early 1930s until my grandfather's passing in 1990. The home is no longer in the family, and the house number has changed, but the sights, smells, and sounds that it left me with remain vivid and dear.

The porch was a hub of activity from May through October for decades. The attached photos were taken in August of 1957. I'm the little guy in the white shirt with a teddy bear on his chest. I’m sure it's August because the unidentified man standing behind me was a boarder who, at the time, rented a room for the four-week track season. The Saratoga Race Course was within walking distance, making it the ideal accommodation. My mother, Helen, is on my right, with my beautiful sister Joanne looking back over the wicker chair. My father, Ralph, is sitting on the steel glider with my grandparents. That porch was cared for like a cherished heirloom. I recall many times in early summer when I would help my grandfather wash down the porch floor and clean the wicker furniture. A fresh coat of oil-based gray was applied every few years. Fifty years later, I still have some of my grandfather's well-cared-for paintbrushes. Simply seeing them hanging in my garage initiates a sentimental journey.

One of the centerpieces of the porch was the massive Boston ivy that encompassed it. Like a forest canopy, the broad leaves kept the porch cool and inviting. Every fall, my grandfather would prune it back to its woody frame to ensure its future health and shape. I drive down East Avenue whenever I'm nearby to soak up a little nostalgia, and the ivy is still going strong. It must be closing in on its 100th birthday.

Another focal point on the porch was the steel glider that faced the street. It had green canvas cushions with white cord piping. It was well cared for and covered each fall. All it took was a gentle push with your feet to get it "gliding" back and forth. I remember staying at my grandparents’ when I was still young enough to take a nap after lunch. My grandmother would have me lie down on the glider and cover me with a light blanket. The sound of the passing cars, old reel-type mowers, and neighbors' voices in the distance was like a knockout punch to a little boy with a full belly. Man-oh-man, would I love to recreate that moment right now!

Another constant on the porch was an arrangement of flowers. My grandmother loved gladiolus, black-eyed Susan's, and pussy willows. They were always placed in a large antique vase of some kind. Their porch was a welcoming oasis, always occupied by friends and neighbors, many of whom just happened by. The flowers and calming ambiance were not the only things that drew people in like flies to honey; Elmer's highly acclaimed Gin Rickeys and Manhattans surely played a part. If you were a nondrinker or just plain thirsty, you would be offered a tumbler of Frances' sun-brewed iced tea with a dash of cinnamon. 7 UP was always my beverage of choice.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention visits by the neighborhood Basset Hound, "Stretch." I say neighborhood Basset Hound because many people had no idea who he actually belonged to. Stretch would amble up the porch steps and stare at the screen door knowing there was some form of snack waiting for him on the other side. After receiving his treat and a scratch or two behind the ears, he'd head off down East Avenue in search of the next handout.

The porch was a bustling destination all summer, but it peaked during August. East Avenue led directly to the main gate of the track, just a few blocks away. People who didn't want to pay for parking or wanted a quick departure after the last race lined the street. Friends from out of town would park out front and have a quick drink before or after the races. Before long, conversation and laughter would overflow the porch and drift down the *Rudy Rydberg sidewalk.

*Rudolph "Rudy" Rydberg and his father were skilled masons who installed hundreds of sidewalks throughout Saratoga Springs. Many of them survive today. They can be identified by the RYDBERG stamp in one corner. SS