Wednesday, November 12, 2008
There aren't many neighborhoods left in Chicago like Bridgeport. Heck, theres not many "neighborhoods" left period. When I try to explain to people where I grew up they never seem to understand. They look at me like a dog looks at his owner when they raise their voice high and offer a treat, they kind of tilt their head and if they want to understand, but they don't just quite seem to. The reason is that they have no frame of reference. Neighborhoods like my old neighborhood in Chicago don't seem to exist anymore and that's too bad. I tell everyone, "Picture an Italian neighborhood in Brooklyn in the 1950's, or go back further to just about any scene from the Godfather 1 or 2". But with rising home prices that old world charm seems to be disappearing. When I go home my mom often says, "You never see any kids playing on our block anymore." "Out" are the big families, (my mom had 10 in hers and our neighbors had 9 and thats just from 2 houses). The person I am today is a direct result from the neighborhood in which I was raised, and there might be nicer areas to be from with bigger houses and larger front lawns, but they wouldn't be my neighborhood, and I wouldn't have had it any other way. Here is a link to a story about Bridgeport, on a personal note both myself and my brother played basketball with John Aranza, and I went to school with his son, and Rosa Fratto is my next door neighbor back home.