Mill Creek Park Remembered

the way around via McCollum, Bears Den and Old Furnace.

This took forever. As with our sisters and brothers before us, the walk home became a rite of passage.

We had a wonderful group in the late 1960’s: at various times it was comprised of Vicky Tilea, Mary Jo Herdman, the Davidson sisters, Marcie Lanz, Betsy Pernotto, Carol Trenik, and Patty Carfolo. Unless it was raining cats and dogs and someone’s mother could get to school with a car, we walked. Whether it was 90 degrees and stifling or 15 degrees and icy, we trekked through the park. We’d walk in the shadows cast by the huge boulders and the tall oaks and sycamores of Bears Den Drive and emerge into bright sunshine at lower meadow, and then step into the deep shade of the sometimes treacherous path known only to frequent walkers who went up the hill to Old Furnace. It was always an adventure, but it became really creepy when one of us stayed after school and had to go it alone.

In that case, we basically ran the whole way.

My favorite time was autumn. The leaves cast a golden glow all around us and the air smelled delicious. Nothing can compare to the sound of leaves crackling beneath your feet.

Vicky, who was almost blind without her glasses and refused to wear them, would wave at every car that passed and honked. We wanted to strangle her because she was invariably waving to strangers. It was especially funny when it was a car full of boys from other schools, hanging out the windows and whistling, Vicky would wave back thinking they were Chaney students.

I guess boys were what we discussed most on those walks home; we also talked about teachers, school work, clothes, music, and boys.

There was one guy we weren’t happy to see. One bright spring day we saw a young man waiting alone in his car at the “YIELD” sign where New Cross Drive meets Cross Drive. It seemed odd that he was just waiting there when no other cars were nearby. Chris Davidson and I had been