When I was growing up, at one time there was a swamp that ran between Eighth and Ninth streets. It ran beside the old high school and backed up to Gary Jones’ home on Bonner Street. Then, it seemed as large as the Everglades in Florida but really it was a part of the town ditch that ran through Washington. The area was swampy and the big ditch ran under Ninth Street on both sides. During school, some of the boys would use it to smoke in, if not using the smoking tree or skipping class and running to Mrs. Jolley’s store on Bonner Street.

A large cement tile ran under Ninth Street connecting the ditch to the Baptist Church yard on Bonner. This tile provided a perfect area for minnows, turtles, tadpoles and was just tall enough for Bubba, Betty, Jane and me to crawl in to hide from the bigger boys in the neighborhood. The swamp provided us trees and underbrush to build forts in, and Larry Picard and Joe Stalls were always on the lookout for our forts. They were too big for the tile that ran under the street and knew that they could not catch us while hiding in the tile.

Being the smallest in the neighborhood, Bubba and I learned quickly to defend ourselves by whatever means possible. The twins (Betty and Jane) were our constant allies and not afraid to do anything we did. Thad Hodges and Rose Ann were too young but joined us a couple of years later, along with Mike and Wayne Renn.

This swamp also provided me the opportunity to set my rabbit boxes that my Dad had built for me. There were big swamp rabbits living there, and I had rubbed apples all over my boxes to get rid of the wood scent and used a half apple in the box to possibly catch a rabbit. Each morning, I would ride my bike to the swamp and check my boxes, hoping to see the door shut. The one time that it was down, there was a possum inside, so never did I catch a rabbit. However, I did catch something while in the swamp one weekend.

That weekend, we spent two days in the swamp swinging on the vines from one side of the ditch to the other side and jumping off like Tarzan. The swamp was full of vines, and we just helped ourselves to any vine available, seeing who could jump the farthest. Monday morning, I awoke to check my boxes, and I was covered with poison ivy. I have never been so glad to see Dr. Dave! I was covered from head to toe and itched like crazy. Mrs. Geneva gave me a shot that helped dry it up, but they were a miserable three days until the shot started working. That ended my days of playing in the swamp or the tile that ran under the street. It had taught me a lesson!

There was a small home on the high school side that I never learned who lived there. Later, after Mr. Bill passed away, Mrs. Mildred Renn moved into the home. I do not know if Mike and Wayne ever lived there with their mother. It was a perfect home after she had it decorated and repaired to meet her fancy.

Now, there is no more swamp and the city has tiled the ditch almost throughout our town. It now is green and growing grass and the trees are no longer there. Every time I drive by it I still get an itch and remember the days we played in our swamp and the tile that runs under the street. It provided us with the Everglades that we saw on TV and the forts we could build and, yes, the poison ivy that surrounded the trees.

They were the best of times with the best of friends and in the best of places, Washington, N.C.! The Original Washington!

 

— Harold Jr.

Harold Robinson Jr. is a native of Washington.