Playing on "the parking"

Salt Lake is known for its wide streets. The story is that Brigham Young specified that the layout of the city include the provisions that a wagon and team could make a U-turn. Hence, wide streets.

In a few places in the city they planted grass in the middle of the road to fill the void. And that's where I grew up. We called the area "the parking." (The trees were added later.)

In the spring and summer we'd play baseball. At the curbs were 1st and 3rd bases, which meant that the foul line jotted straight back, making the outfield a narrow target. Occasionally someone would hit a car, but the houses were safe.

In the fall we'd play football and the shape of the field was just right.

When frisbee came along we'd toss it around on "the parking."

And brave teen girls would "lay out" on the grass to get a tan.

After Christmas we'd haul all the discarded trees up to "the parking" and form them into a big circle two or three trees high. It made a great fort. And the city workers didn't care. We'd saved them the labor of going from house-to-house picking them up.

At the corner of 12th East and 2nd South "the parking" made a bend. It also made a natural retaining wall with a rather steep vertical drop. It was a perfect, but short, ride on a sled. And they installed steps so you could repeat the ride as many times as you had energy for.

The steps included a railing made out of 3" plumbers pipe. The pipe had a wonderful texture made up of corroded layers of pipe, painted over with aluminum paint countless times over the years. Still, wearing the right fabric, you could straddle it and make a quick trip down the banister. But you'd feel every coupling on the way down.

The parking is still there, but I can tell the kids don't play there any more. The mud hole that used to be home plate is grown over with grass.

You can never go home again.