Washington Park and Cultural Suicide

"The Old Neighborhood" Painting by Edward Farber

Whenever I pass through the Washington Park area of Providence where I lived for more than twenty years, I am reminded of a haunting short story by Theodore Dreiser, "The Old Neighborhood".

How different it was just 25 years ago. What decay now! Memorable people replaced by sullen hordes of ignorant and obnoxious immigrants-lacking the character of previous generations of immigrants- truly the scum of the earth! Filth and decadence is their element. Denizens of Hell, nearly all of them.

Charming stores with a little class replaced with tawdry, sinister shops. "What is the REAL business here?" I wonder.

Everywhere to be seen, glazed eyed maniacs. Drug addicts? Washington Park -once a quiet, respectable neighborhood right out of "Leave It To Beaver"- now just a stray, seedy piece of New York City. Not one place sacred in my memory has survived intact, as I remembered it.

There were in those days several supermarkets in the area, nearest the Weybosset Pure Foods.

Broad St. School

A Mason's Pharmacy- where I read Science Digest articles while sipping on vanilla cokes. The Palace Theater where I recall seeing movie classics like "West Side Story", "To Kill A Mocking Bird", and the scariest movie of my youth, "The Curse Of Frankenstein".

Ace Wall Paper & Paint where my older brother and I bought model airplanes. (he was so much more skilled at assembling them!) Carter's Candy Store where I would treat myself to eye-appealing delights. How I liked that "bark candy".

Roger Williams Park Museum
of Natural History & Planetarium

A Four barber Barber Shop, AL's - always very busy on Saturdays. Haircuts- one dollar! St. Paul's Church was just a ten minute walk away. (The vitriolic scoldings of old Monsignor Cannon- people coming in too late. The impassioned sermons of a young Father Behan. He looked a lot like Mickey Mantle.)

Roger Williams Park was our back yard. My class visits to the Planetarium - the Sputnik era. There were real row boats you could rent back then. Today you have those ridiculous paddle boats.

The Boat House at Roger Williams Park

Today even Newport Creamery is gone. How many coffee cabinets consumed there - and the early adolescent girl watching.

Most of all there were the neighbors– real neighbors, people that you would know if not love for years. Where are they all today? Where was the only guy who advertised his support for Nixon? He was harassed!

Broad Street School looks as imposing as ever. I remember the baseballs games in the school yard. The number of fine baseballs lost on the roof- home runs! Teachers that made a difference. A few that humiliated!

The Washington Park Library is drab looking now. How many intellectual adventures begun there.
There were Boy Scouts (Troop 7) at the Methodist Church. Any scouts around today? A sordid memory of one obscene encounter there. Where is "he" today?

A friendly black postman named Reggie. A German shepherd dog who bit me on the chin ( I needed stitches) A noisy boxer named Mike ( annoying on hot summer nights ) The owner a rather violent man who routinely "kicked ass", mostly his son's, my friend. He was also a talented painter "of sailing ships."

The old lady across the street named Sadie who told us stories of her girlhood and whose husband died a miserable death from cancer. The middle aged housewife next door- my first encounter with madness in front of her lilac bush.

The neighborhood began to undergo an irreversible decline in the mid-Seventies. Mostly though truly PLEASANT memories of BETTER TIMES, of YOUTH. My infatuation with a particular girl I would see every morning in the coffee shop– Murphy's. A character named Chubby ran the place. He died of a heart attack at age 50! I went to the wake and could not recognize this fun loving devil in the eulogy.

But today look at Washington Park, look at the ruin of it. If anybody doubts the reality of Cultural Suicide, let him visit Washington Park and talk to the old time residents.