Dickeyville Kids: Various Childhood Memories
Extracts from The Dickeyville Days – a collection of memoirs from former Dickeyville denizens to celebrate its legacy
Memories from Philip Sieck
A Dickeyville Fourth of July
The little village of Dickeyville had a unique Fourth of July celebration tradition, of course with variations from time to time. On the evening of July 3rd Pickwick Road would be blocked off and a sheet of linoleum would be rolled out on the street in front of the IOOF/store building. Many villagers would dance, watch and visit. The natives would be up early on July 4th to prepare for the parade having created floats (some on Radio Flyer wagons), decorated cars, bikes, dogs, etc. for the 10:00 a.m. event. US flags were prominent and military uniforms were evident. Prizes were given at the conclusion of the parade around the Methodist Church triangle at the center of the village. One car that stood out for me was the Stissel’s VW beetle with its hood up decorated as a shark, or fish, very creative.
The Fourth celebration would continue down by the stream and dam with a big picnic lunch, including hard crabs in later years. The year my dad, Luther, was Mayor (President of the Dickeyville Association) his very brief speech included advice that most of the houses and buildings on the East coast should have wheels installed so that they could be moved more readily and also the land paved over entirely for expansion of the ever increasing roads. I believe he didn’t get re-elected.
During the pastorate of Tom Spears at Dickey Memorial Presbyterian Church, we were grown up and back for a visit over a fourth when a new element was added to the parade. Tom and some of his friends from the village formed and performed as the Dickeyville Long Distance Precision Marching Lawn Mower Team! It was hilarious to watch as they zigged and zagged with their push mowers across each other’s’ paths as they trooped down the street. I believe that was 2000, the year the village thoughtfully celebrated my parents as they were leaving Dickeyville to move to Mercy Ridge. ps
Memories from Christine Meeks Wedeking
Wayne [Markert] breaking his leg when he fell into quicksand-like material at the building site next to the old Parish Hall – traction set up in Markert’s living room.
Sunday school dances and plays in old Parish Hall.
Calvin Bernard kicking my mother in church
Older girls congregating on the Hastings’s steps.
Swimming at Granite Quarry – piling in the trunk of Gary Wessel’s car to get in for free.
Exploring with Pen Smith in the woods behind his house.
Being at Elinor’s begging her to play her original songs (and I’ll expect to hear “Pride” at the reunion)
Flatbed boat of Vandy Stissel’s in stream.
Playing on swing set at Stissel’s trying to swing high enough to jump over a high hedge and impaling myself on dog house or post and going to St. Agnes ER
Also went to St. Agnes ER when I split my knee open in Ricky Spranklin’s driveway, and his sister (a nurse) carried me home.
Penny candy at Abe’s store.
Julie [twin sister] turning “Catholic” for a day to cut school and stay home with Joy [Markert] for the Catholic holiday.
Playing football behind Stissel’s with Barky Roemer directing the plays
Playing baseball on Methodist Church property
Inviting the Moritz twins to sit in the freshly painted seats on the streetcar – subsequent call from Agnes [their mother]
Putting Spry (a new yellow colored Crisco) in “old lady Rohrer’s” mailbox (the lady who lived in the Odd Fellows Hall) and being punished by not being allowed to buy a new bicycle that night
Sneaking a smoke in a hillside stand at Jerry Moran’s (It was really a rolled up piece of notebook paper.)
Tennis with Tina Berblinger at Crimea.
Nancy Hunley dancing her way to New York
Peter and Don Miller. I think Peter moved to Hilton Head. I think he was psychology PhD. Don went back to New Jersey.
The Slades, the last I heard, Billy was teaching at Western Maryland College [now McDaniel]
Dot and Hayes Mowers – plays. [Dot wrote] The Town Crier newspaper [with village news]
K 2 and Althea Loveless, one died a few years ago.
Memories from Lane Harding Psotto
I am Lane Harding Psotto. 2505 Pickwick Road. I remember how much fun to go trick or treating at Hallowen. My memories of Chris and Nancy Taylor. The Lovelace family. Althea Lovelace would baby sit me. My mom Agnes Harding went to high school with Tricia Colgan’s mom Elaine. The best of my childhood is Dickeyville. Time does fly when we get older. Dickeyville gave all of us the best time to grow up. lhp
Memories from Susan Crosby Taliaferro
The Crosby Crew Take Dickeyville
I think I must have been about ten. That would have made Nelson twelve, Ramsey, eight, Lucy, six, and Andy, four. Sarah would have been about minus seven. On the day we moved in, Dad had to cut a hole in a wall so we could get upstairs to go to bed. The house had been cut into 3 apartments before we arrived: the first floor, the second floor, and “the apartment.”
The first neighbor that Mom met was Freddy McDorman, who called the next day to ask if Mom “owned” a cute boy who looked to be about 4. Mom said she did. His name was Andy. Freddy called out his name, and he looked up from what he was doing. “I think this one must belong to you. He’s digging in my trash. You may want to come get him!” A lifelong friendship was born! Peggy McDorman McKisson and I shared out 1st apartment together, and Donald McDorman played the organ at my wedding in Monkton in 1978.
I have frequently thought over my lifetime, that it would have been such fun to buy up a tiny town, along w/all my friends, and move in there, and raise our children together, and share our lives together. That’s what Dickeyville was, though not by intention. It was such a fantasy land for all of us, but it was probably even more so for our parents, knowing their children were safe and happy, and most of the time, not at home!
My memories are mostly of growing up. First, I think, at the Raileys with Beverly. When she and I talked, just recently, memories flooded back. Her mother taught me to sew on a machine. Her Dad built her a fabulous Barbie house. It was essentially 2 pieces of intersecting plywood. Our Barbies would simply jump over the walls to get to the next room. Shoot, worked for us! Her Mom made buckwheat pancakes with venison gravy! We met Sidney Poitier on a trip to DC where her Dad got us into The Blair House. I ate my first crabs at Deep Creek Lake and learned to water ski. Then she moved away, but we had learned how to be kids together.
I learned how to be a teenager with Karen Hudson Flowers. As I recall, that involved hanging out mostly w/boys! Wayne Markert, Mike Gibbons, Ralph and Steve Lloyd, B Leonard, and I’m pretty sure that Nelson must have been in there somewhere. Odd that I have no recollection of other girls! There was lots of guitar playing, lots of time spent in the Markert’s basement, spin the bottle, Colt 45, kissing on the dam wall, trips to Dewey Beach, where Wayne met Diane, and generally going through puberty in a big lump. I remember sneaking out of “the apartment” bedroom after hours with Karen. We’d go out the bathroom window and shinny down the chimney to the ground! Don’t recall what we did once we were on the ground!
I went to St. Gino’s Church with Wayne every Sunday. He’d pick me up w/ just enough time to get over to St. Lawrence on Security Blvd. for the noon mass. But instead, we’d go hang out at Gino’s on Rt. 40 until he’ drop me off at about 1:15. I was living in a fool’s paradise! Wayne had a fight w/his girlfriend, was in a fussy mood, and took me home way too soon! BUSTED! Practically beached for life! How many of you remember that navy term, used by Bob Crosby to refer to total loss of privileges?
So many vague memories. Playing Simon Says on the porch of the Parish Hall. Playing with Michelle Howard. Babysitting for almost every little kid in Dickeyville- for 50 cents an hour! Telling Peggy McDorman that there was “no such thing as Santa Claus,” and enduring Freddie’s wrath! The dinner parties that Freddie and Donald had for Peggy! Going to Brownies in the Parish Hall. The army, headquartered in the Gibbons studio. Walking down to the dam, with skates over my shoulder. Selling Girl Scout cookies to Ruth Conry. Carpooling w/the Colgans and detouring to fires. (Warren Colgan was a fire chaser. He had a fire radio in his VW so he heard all the calls. Several times, on the way to school, we detoured to fires. Crazy but true! Just another quirky thing to keep a boring carpool more exciting!) Riding to Western with the Harigs, and spying through Nelson’s telescope on Mr Stissel, sitting at a desk in a window, probably paying bills. The Moritz twins had a schnauzer. We had Muff, the blind Airedale who could walk himself all the way up, the back way, to the Turners and get home safely. Riding a pony in one of the 4th of July parades and being terrified. Making a raft with Dad for a 4th skit. At the performance, it sank! Having the new road cut through our yard and having the Italian mason build that huge stone retaining wall. Andy used to go out and eat lunch with him every day. Kevin Weber and Ramsey up in the tree at the Littles, dropping pebbles on cars, stupidly, while Lucy played in the front yard and watched! Millie Nicolai shouting, “Go home, Muff! Go Home!” Jane Brady took Lucy’s and my Shirley Temple dolls and made perfect Mt. Saint Agnes school uniforms for them, right down to the pin tucks on the blouses! We got them for Xmas. So many memories that leave me knowing my childhood couldn’t have been better.
Many years after Dickeyville, after I had married Peter Taliaferro, he and I were at his Aunt’s for some family do and I was looking at her watercolors on the walls. She had been the head of the Balto. Watercolor Society for years. When I saw one of her paintings that I hadn’t seen before, I shouted, “Oh! The Dickey Memorial Presbyterian Church!” His Aunt, Emily had painted the picture from a photograph but had never known where the church was, nor had she been able to find it. She was thrilled that I was able to identify it for her,that I had grown up across the street from it, and had gone to Scotland with the Littles when the Browns came to Dickeyville. I don’t know which of Emily’s daughters has that painting now. I’ll have to find out.
Tempus fugit. Trees grow. Things change. The Parish Hall is a house and our house has a porch across the front. I look forward to seeing old friends in October. The memories that have been stirred up have been warm, fun, poignant. You can’t go home again, but you can come pretty close
Memories from Bill(y) Bartlett
The snowball story sparks some memories…except we used mud balls and threw them at busses (to start). We quickly graduated to cars and trucks.
One of the stories that sticks in my memory has to do with the storm drain that emptied into the Gwynns Falls below the dam. We spent hours playing around in the pools of water down there looking for crawfish. We discovered that we could crawl into the storm drain pipe and under Wetheredsville Rd. We explored the storm drain system for several days, venturing deeper and deeper into the pipes that ran under Wetheredsville Road past Tucker Lane and up to Pickwick. One day our mothers could not find us…but they could hear our giggles and shouts echoing up from the storm drains at Pickwick and Wetheredsville. They stood at the storm drains yelling at us to “get out of the sewer.” They met us when we emerged from the drain pipe near Wetheredsville and Cottondale Lane. I always felt like I had been raised by every mother in the village, and that day, it seemed like they were all there to meet us.
Dickey Memorial Presbyterian Church was a playground for us. We found ways to break into the sanctuary and fellowship hall and spent countless hours in there. Seems we had a lot of fun sledding down the hill behind the fellowship hall. One time we got four or five kids on a toboggan and sailed down the stairs and through the undercroft. Looking at that hill now, I can’t imagine the thrill we were seeking. It’s a pretty tame hill.
The big fun was sledding down Sekots when it iced over and running off into the snow in the vacant lot at the bottom of the hill. I remember being afraid to go alone. One of the ‘big kids’ in the neighborhood took me on his sled. The ‘big kids’ were Andy Crosby, Dougy Rose, Hoppy Hopkins, etc. who were probably 12 or 13 at the time. You know, older and wiser than me. I remember two-man sledding front-and-back and also double-decker style. It probably was nowhere near as death-defying as I imagine it was, but I keep thinking I was just inches and seconds from a cracked skull.
The best memories are really of the people and friends we had. I spent a lot of time around the Soud boys. We got into all sorts of trouble, including for the mudballing I mentioned. We managed several direct hits on one guy who drove a Mustang. He jumped out of his car and gave chase. We escaped to the safety of the church until we saw him circling through the neighborhood. He somehow got Mrs. Soud to come out of the manse, probably because he was driving up and down the street cursing and swearing that he was going to hunt us down and kill us. Mrs. Soud found us in about 30 seconds, cowering in a church bathroom. I remember facing him in the street. The scowl on Mrs. Soud’s face is indelibly etched into my memory…as were the muddy splats on that poor man’s car. I still remember the thud they made on impact. I have no idea what I was thinking, but I’ll blame it on the ‘big kids’ who started with the snowballs…bb
Memories from Tricia Colgan Barrett
Although I was a member of the younger group, I have so many memories, but here are a few:
The Spring House on Wetheredsville Road-best water ever!
Playing Kick the Can until the sunset, and even sometimes after dark…until that whistle blew!
Building forts behind our houses.
Christmas caroling on Christmas Eve
Gamma Pi
As I sit here in Okinawa, Japan visiting our 3rd out of 5 grandkids, and enjoying every minute. I find myself in the hush of the evening reading wonderful memories that include my childhood. I am hopeful that most kids growing up find good memories of their young years. But somehow, I feel we were so lucky, so blessed, to have grown up in such a unique environment. I question is it our age that finds us in such a melancholy mood? Blissfully thinking of a time so genuine, so simple in comparison to today’s lifestyle. Or, is it the sheer anticipation of gathering once again after so many years that bring back such wonderful memories? Or yet could it be that we lived a truly charmed childhood, nestled in the banks of the Gwynns Falls ? I’m going with charmed!!!
When we were first asked to put our memories to print, I simply mentioned them in note. But with all the wonderful detailed accounts I feel the need to add more.
As we moved through the years I remember being rather young, yet still taking it upon myself to go visit my parents’ friends. I would go to the Spranklins, the Roemers, and the Mackalls. Why I’m not sure. It was just something I did. Walking the “dam lane” and saying hi to the sisters that lived in the little house on the corner of “dam lane”. They were kinda of scary…. But to have the freedom to just walk the neighborhood at such a young age of 6 or 7 years old was not something that was strange.
As we grew older so did our skills at creating bit of harmless havoc on Halloween. I think as a whole we moved a car or two, put pins in door bells, and toothpaste and toilet papering cars were a few highlights. Then, there were a few “hammerheads” in some mailboxes….. Fully knowing the statute of limitations has past, my lips remain sealed. Having lost the farm to the Wakefield apartments, they became a major target. Tying adjacent apartment doors together and ringing the door bells was one of our favorites. But, looking back probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do. Thank heavens for those “koodie” shots we gave one another! They probably protected us from irate apartment dwellers.
Walking up to Leakin Park just to take a walk or go sit under the big tree was a fond memory. Some of us would [lie] there for hours enjoying the summer coolness its enormous branches provided, with dapples of sunlight shimmering through. Dragging our sleds up to suicide hill to embark on hours of sliding fun not to mention a few broken arms and or bruised bums by the end of any sledding season. I can remember in our early teens on those long summer days walking to Westview or walking to the bowling lanes on Security Blvd. We must have been the generation of walkers!!
Yes, Gamma Pi, Camp Glenkirk, the Peace Rally, tutoring little ones on Saturday mornings at Hopkins, playing Kick the Can. Trying to gather enough money to buy a pizza from the little shop in Franklintown. Hours upon hours of gathering times at the Hallman’s house. Just being kids…..for the most part. The 4th of July!!! Oh what memories. I remember when Hurricane Agnes came through and the dam gave way. Neighbors all rallied, kids too, to help shovel what seemed like tons (and perhaps was) of mud out of the little homes along the bend in the stream below the dam. I also remember the Michelob warehouse in Daniels Mills getting flooded as well. Someone’s brother blew out the transmission in his parent’s station wagon making numerous runs to the warehouse to gather cases of beer. He did have the permission of the watchman as the beer was then unsellable. Apparently not undrinkable though.
I need to end this ….But I can’t help feeling that we have created a fabric that will forever be bonded by the threads we have woven together through our shared memories. tcb
Memories from Jan (Janny) Gibbons Weinman, daughter of Jan and Lou Gibbons, youngest sibling to Michael, Karen, and Linda
I was born into an amazing family that lived at 2323 Tucker Lane – phone #448-0106. Don’t we all remember those cool phone number minus the area code? Many things were different back then, including fresh milk delivered to our front porch every few days – we had milk from the Koontz Dairy. Then, we had the horse-drawn cart that appeared every week or so, manned by an elderly black gentleman screaming at the top of his lungs – “WATERMELON, GET YOUR FRESH WATERMELON!” Or something like that….I always felt so sad and concerned about the poor horse who looked like he was on death’s door. The Good Humor truck was a frequent daily guest on hot summer days. Toasted Almond and Chocolate Éclair ice cream bars were my personal favorites.
My group of friends consisted of Julie (now Juli) Weber, Lenna Miller, Valerie Masten, Valerie Gaver, Greg and Brad McGowan, whom I can’t find, Joey Monaghan, whom I also can’t locate, Dougy Rose, Hoppy Hopkins, and later Steve Williamson. A nice group of guys and girls. But, as the youngest sibling of the Gibbons clan, I was privileged to know and love all of my sister’s and brother’s friends – the families were – the Williams, Crosbys, Colgans, Lloyds, Markerts, Smiths, Bradys, Spranklins, Krammes, Hallmans, and Parrots. Three groups of friends came and went from the Gibbons household. I loved all these folks. My siblings’ friends were always very loving and kind to me. I was surrounded by joyful, fun-loving people growing up.
The big house in the center of the neighborhood, once a church I think…not sure, was cared for by the Cleator family in the late 60’s; they were from England. The mom was the housekeeper and the dad was the groundskeeper. The owners at the time were the Holdridge family. I became friends with the caretakers’ daughter – Leslie Cleator. A side benefit to being Leslie’s friend was that I was able to occasionally go into the mansion; it was like a museum. Not too many clear memories, just that I felt lucky. That property was always off-base for us kids. We all wanted to go in there – forbidden fruit.
Another lucky break happened when David Guillaume bought the old Parish Hall at the corner of Tucker and Wetheredsville Road. He built a pool adjacent to the house and at some point we were granted permission to occasionally swim in it. I think he drove a really cool little sports car, but I can’t recall what kind. Speaking of sports cars, how about Dr. Crosby’s Lotus Europa!!! Winged doors; it was so futuristic!!! The Crosbys had the coolest house. Mrs. Crosby was such a dear person. She and Bob were good friends of my parents. It was very sad when the doc passed away. I think he was the first of the Dickeyville friends to go. I loved all the Crosby kids. Andy was closest in age to me, but still too many years between us to be good buddies. However, I think he was the first boy I thought was “cute”. My sisters, Linda and Karen, were very close with Lucy, and Mike was good buddies with Nelson, the oldest brother, and later would become great friends with Ramsey. Losing Nelson at a young age was another devastating blow to everyone. We also lived through another loss when David Weber passed away, as well as Mickey Colgan. God rest their beautiful souls.
Speaking of the Webers, Juli Weber remains my best friend in the world. [She changed the spelling of her name from Julie to Juli]. We separated for many years, but found our way back to each other. Juli owns a fabulous gallery and store in Highlandtown called Y:ART Gallery and Fine Gifts on Gough Street. I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it, but I have the pleasure or working with her on all of her opening receptions. One of my passions is photography, so I will occasionally have the pleasure of snapping candid shots of all her happy gallery guests. I’m so proud of Juli, and couldn’t be more proud to call her my dearest friend. Also wonderful, is that when Juli has her art openings, many Dickeyville friends come out to show their support! Of course, Juli’s family, including her mom, Mary Mayo, who I love like a second mother. I did spend over half of my childhood at the Weber house. I always love seeing little sister Liz and brother Kevin. Ramsey Crosby and Ricky Spranklin are frequent visitors. My siblings, Karen, Linda, Michael and spouses show their support. For those interested, you should check out Juli’s gallery; it’s amazing! She also just acquired some of Calico Cat’s merchandise due to the owner’s retirement. Remember the Calico Cat in Woodlawn? Lucky for Juli! Speaking of Woodlawn, three places – The Acme for groceries, Bauhof’s Bakery, and High’s. Sunday morning doughnuts – cinnamon twists, chocolate covered cake, and honey dips – yum!!! And my dad would actually take me to get an ice cream cone after every grocery shopping experience: I’m surprised I remained a normal weight. Thank God for being tall. To this day, eating ice cream conjures very warm and fuzzy feelings! Thanks Dad! God rest your soul and Mom’s.
Lastly, how about Dickeyville’s layout. Loved that we referred to the streets as “the block” and “the triangle.” And I can’t complete my memories without mentioning “The Bottle Shop” Penny candy in the big glass case, antiques and old tools maybe – a bit fuzzy – hand crafts, and did I say penny candy? It was nice having a little store in the hood. I walked that neighborhood every day of my young life; I intimately know every inch.
Special Note
The page is part of the memoir series generously provided to the Dickeyville website by Anne McMahan and Elinor Sandless Cecil, coordinators of the 2017 October Dickeyville Kids Reunion. Entries come from The Dickeyville Days – a collection of memoirs from former Dickeyville denizens to celebrate its legacy.
Return to Series Main Page to access other decades.