Takes a block to raise a village

There used to be an apartment block at the corner of Bannerman and Charles with a huge elm tree alongside it that was almost as tall.

Back in the '80s, we lived on the third floor, and I could see that tree out one of our windows. My auntie Jeannie lived on the second floor and my auntie Rosie lived on the first floor. Her apartment was the best because it had a huge balcony.

It was a friendly block. There were a few other women that we called "auntie" who were close friends with our family. There were our families: the Sutherlands, Simards and Beaulieus. Then there were the others: Settees, Camerons and Mentucks, just to name a few.

There were also single people and a couple of other families over the years. There was a ton of kids on the block, so it was easy to find friends to hang out with.

Most of us were aboriginal. We were young enough that we didn't notice differences, just similarities. Besides, we were all poor families, so in our eyes we were all the same.

One French family moved into the block for a few months. Their blond son spoke French and was kind of small.

He earned credibility with his glass eye that he used to like to pop out and play with. He used to try to scare the girls with his empty eye socket, but for some reason we ended up fascinated with it.

One time he dropped his glass eye and had trouble finding it for a while because another kid scooped it up and didn't tell him. He got into trouble, even though his eye was eventually "found."

Most of the time we stuck close to our block and found things to do nearby.

We'd break off into groups for certain games. We girls would jump rope -- double-dutch style for the pros among us. We also liked hopscotch and would play for hours.

Older girls made tetherballs by stuffing a plastic shopping bag with plastic bags, then securing it onto a piece of rope. Then someone would climb a stop sign, tie it to the top of the sign, and it was game on.

Marbles and playing tag throughout the entire block were always popular with both boys and girls. One summer, some big sewer pipes lined Charles Street and we climbed on them to play war. We'd take a bite of crabapples and then throw them at each other.

We did a few bad things too -- like sneaking cigarettes out of our parents' packs and smoking them in back lanes until we got sick.

One time, two older kids -- David Hayes and my cousin Charlotte -- led the charge for a bunch of us to walk to Kildonan Park. It seemed like a long walk, since it was a hot day. I'm sure we complained all the way, but it was a good trip.

Sometimes our parents scraped up some cash and the older kids would take us to see a movie at a theatre near Main and Inkster. There were no secrets on our block. Everyone knew everyone else's business.

If a family was struggling, they sometimes asked or sent a kid with a note to a neighbour. They'd ask to borrow some food, cigarettes, or even a couple of bucks. Often, people didn't need to ask for help, since help just showed up.

Outgrown clothes were passed on to other families that needed them. Some neighbours would go to bingo together, and older kids would babysit for several families at a time.

Even we kids looked out for each other.

Curfew was easy to remember -- you had to be home by the time the street lights came on.

I remember my sadness upon hearing the buzz of the lights as they started to come to life. "C'mon," you'd tell your friends. "Let's go home."

And you had better run because you didn't want your mom to come looking for you. That was the ultimate in being embarrassed, besides getting a public swatting.

But it all came to an end quite abruptly. Someone in one of the suites fell asleep with a lit cigarette. We woke up to alarm bells ringing and ushered ourselves out through the rickety fire escape.

The old apartment block never recovered. I think the damage was too bad or the owners didn't have the money to fix it up. As I remember, it just got torn down.

We finished up the school year and then moved up to Manigotagan that summer. My parents called it a fresh start.

It's too bad that building is gone. There were a lot of good families who watched out for each other in that block.

colleen.simard@gmail.com

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition October 1, 2011 J6