A Frightening Walk Home - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

Monday, February 28, 2022

Dr. Ed Iannuccilli, Contributor

I recently wrote about walking to The Castle Theater with friends on Friday evenings. The march to the theater was safe. But not so returning home.

My home on Wealth Avenue was furthest from the theater. My friends who lived around the corner joined me on my way. Walking home was different as intense moments of fear, and near panic assaulted my young brain.

Our neighborhood was safe. Homes and cars were never locked. Dad left his keys in the ignition when he left his car on the street. Safety was characterized by the local tenor rehearsing, by piano students practicing, by kids playing hopscotch, stickball, touch football, and hide and seek. Why, my third-grade teacher and a governor’s mother lived there.

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Wealth Avenue was bracketed by a barbershop and a bakery at one end and a row of rental garages at the other. It was a straight city street flanked by comfortably spaced bungalows, and two- and three-decker homes whose first-floor doors spilled directly onto the sidewalks.

Sturdy curbstones defined cement squares, embedded at regular intervals with small, commemorative plates to acknowledge the Works Progress Administration (WPA). The sidewalks were lined with high utility poles linked by bowed telephone lines. Here and there, a netless basketball hoop might be nailed to the same pole that was used as the goal for playing hide and seek.

Streetlights were suspended from the middle of the poles, with circular, scalloped metal hats covering the bulbs. When the lights were lit, a yellow haze created dancing shadows on the street.

So, why any fear? Because our home was the last on my walk as friends peeled off, leaving me two blocks before I entered the safety of the entry behind our bulky door.

It was dark and eerily quiet. At the corner was a lonely streetlight casting shadows of fear, dancing goblins, scarecrows, even ghosts. One of my worst nights was after the horror movie, “Creature from the Black Lagoon.” I was convinced he was lurking in the ominous shadows.

I made the turn to Wealth Avenue. With a pounding heart, I picked up the pace to my fastest run ever, and, as I sped along, I spotted my home. I had one more danger zone to pass, the tall hedges that protected my grandfather’s garden. There had to be something lurking behind. What was that!? The rustle of the wind. Who, what would jump up and over to grab me?

Another quick trip down the endless driveway to the safety of the back door. With a turn and a kick, I slammed the door behind me and took a deep breath. The familiar smell of Lysol was comforting.

I bolted up two stairs at a time, opened the door, rushed to my bedroom, took off my clothes, and jumped into bed. “Edward, are you OK?”

“Fine.” I gazed at the shimmering shadows of branches wiggling outside my window. An eternity passed before I fell asleep.

I loved going to the movies on Friday evenings.

Dr. Ed Iannuccilli is the author of three popular memoirs, “Growing up Italian; Grandfather’s Fig Tree and Other Stories”, “What Ever Happened to Sunday Dinner” and “My Story Continues: From Neighborhood to Junior High.”  Learn more HERE.

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