#1 - Moving to the Raleigh Street Courts

#1 - Raleigh Street and Roger Maris

It was 1966 when we moved to the Raleigh Street Courts in Glendale, California. I was eight, my brother was nine, and my sister would be born the following February. I don’t recall what time of year it was, but I remember starting third grade that September. Chances are pretty good that we arrived in August, since our family had a tradition of always moving on either the hottest or the wettest day of the year.

Our new home consisted of one bedroom, one bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. My brother and I shared the bedroom, while Mom slept on a sleeper-sofa in the living room. In the kitchen, you could stand in the middle of the floor, and without moving your feet, reach the refrigerator, the stove, all four drawers, every cupboard, and all the counter space. Three steps toward the window and you were “in” the dining area—a space big enough to hold our formica-covered table—a table designed to seat two but that frequently found three, and sometimes four, people sitting around it.

I remember the year, 1969, when Roger Maris beat Babe Ruth’s home-run record. (I didn’t actually know at the time what was happening, but when I recently did the math (so I could write this), I figured that that had to be what was happening). My mom and her friend Shirley were seated at the kitchen table. The radio was blasting out the game. It was another hot day in Southern California. This meant open doors, open windows, and cold beer. Neighbors frequently stopped at our window to ask, “Has he done it yet?” Occasionally, a passerby would come in for a beer and some conversation. It seemed to me that nobody was listening to the game, but every so often Shirley would yell “He’s up!” and everyone quieted down.

I don’t know how many times Maris batted and failed (or how many games we actually listened to before he finally succeeded), but when he hit the record breaking homer, the entire court came to life. People flew out of their apartments, screaming and hooraying, and running around telling anyone who would listen. I had no clue why they cared so much, but the excitement was contagious. It was fun seeing all the grown-ups laughing and smiling and carrying on like kids; so all of us kids started running around too.