Joe ~ May 15

 

Step Dance

 

In 1963 a new playground was built right around the corner from where I grew up. A man named Oscar Weisman donated the money to have this state of the art recreation area which had every modern ride and activity you could imagine. I was 7 years old and the playground was my home away from home. There was all different types of activities and organized sports, from checkers to wiffle ball and horseshoes. I got to be pretty good at checkers and pot holders. I played on the teams that competed with the other playgrounds in the city and we were usually defeated without too much effort from our competitors. The best part of these competitions was I met a lifelong friend. He played for Slocum playground named after a woman who was kidnapped by indians from her cabin located on the site of the playground. There is also a state park named after her…Frances Slocum State Park. I think that after years of living with a local tribe who took her far away she somehow made it back to good ole Wilkes-Barre. Wilkes and Barre…who were they and why did they name a city after them? Well, Sir Isaac Wilkes and John Barre were members of the British parliament and were sympathetic to the colonists and their need for independence. So, there’s that…very historical. Lots of history about our fledgeling country came out of the Wyoming Valley….in fact the State of Wyoming is named after our valley and the influence it had on our future or our country. Anyhoo, I digress. Back at the playground there was a big talent show with all the city playgrounds competing in song and dance and track and field. The playground leader was a young woman by the name of Judy. Judy noticed my checker playing ability right away and selected me to perform in the big show. I was going to perform an Irish or Scottish step dance with three girls. Upon learning this I spent an entire sleepless night planning to run away. I’d empty the old piggy bank and buy a ticket on the Martz  bus and go to Scranton. What I would do in Scranton was beyond me. However it was better than facing the neighborhood punks who would tar and feather me or beat me within an inch of my life, not to mention the embarrassment of dancing with girls on a stage with all the youth of Wyoming Valley witnessing my distress and suffering. I showed up the next day in spite of the ridicule that I was destined to experience. And that life long friend was there too. He was a track star and probably one of the best athletes ever to come out of Wilkes-Barre. His name was Laniel but everybody called him Yipe…after the colorful striped shirts he wore and the popular striped fruit flavored gum which was all the rage and was constantly being advertised on TV…Yipes, Stripes…Beechnuts gottem’…

Any way, he remembered me from our wiffle ball games which we were totally annihilated. He was mean looking, and hung out with a bunch of the toughest looking kids that I had ever seen….and he was Black….we didn’t have any Blacks in our part of town and this was a whole new world to me. So, I danced and I can’t say how I did but I got the steps right and was girding my loins for the onslaught after the show. And indeed, it started and I was ready to run or take my punishment like the scared 7 year old that I was. The thugs gathered around looking pretty much like they were going to use me as a punching bag. That’s when Yipe piped up and said leave him alone…Well, that’s all it took. Years later I played football with Yipe and we have been the best of friends ever since. All because I did a little dance. And speaking of athletic events and shows that took part in Kirby park. The stage that I performed on was a concrete structure that was part of a mining operation years before. They saved the floor and used it for band concerts and such. And more history…adjacent to Kirby Park was Artillery Field where the minor league Wilkes-Barre Barons played their home games. During the off season baseball players of note would travel the across the country barnstorming and playing local teams. Babe Ruth, the legend. Hit a home run that went was said to fly over 500 feet over the fence and out into Kirby Park. Now it been told that the ball hit the building which was to become my dancing venue….well over 600 feet from home plate. The Babe said it was the farthest hit that he ever could remember. So history is made. The Bronx bomber and the East End step dancer sharing their mutual accomplishments.