at the rear and side of my row home. In the '60s, alleys were pretty much used

for everything except parking. I don't remember ever seeing parked cars in our

alleys.

In the late '50s and most of the sixties, vendors would use the alleys to hawk

their wares. I can't tell you how many Saturday mornings I was awakened to the

sound of horseshoes on asphalt accompanied by a voice yelling "TOPSOIL!" as

loudly as humanly possible.

The horse and cart vendors would usually appear on Saturday mornings selling

either topsoil or vegetables. I could understand vegetables, but I could never

quite figure out why anyone would spend money on dirt. We certainly had plenty

of it in our neighborhood. Maybe I was just upset at being woken up by dirt

salesmen.

The good vendors would start showing up around dinner time. The Good Humor Man

(who, by the way, always seemed pissed-off), was usually the first to arrive.

Then came the snow ball truck followed by the Mister Softee Truck. For some

reason, I always felt bad for the guy driving that truck (their cherry sundaes

were great though).

With the exception of the pissed-off Good Humor man, they weren't always

regular. So if, for example, you decided to pass on the fudgesicle, toasted

almond bar, strawberry shortcake bar, or popsicle, you were taking your chances.

Many a summer day I waited in silence for the soothing Mister Softee loudspeaker

chords of 'Old MacDonald Had a Farm'  that never came.

The alleys served another purpose for the kids in our neighborhood. They were

makeshift playgrounds. All you needed on a summer day, to start up a game of

handball, was three or more kids, an alley, and a pinkie.

Speaking of pinkies, was there ever a more versatile toy? You could play

handball with one, use them for batting practice, or step ball. In a group, at

least one of us, at all times, had a pinkie on his person.

No one ever complained when, at least 15 or 20 times a game, the pinkie ended up

in someone's yard. We'd just hop the fence and retrieve it. Adults were a lot

more tolerant back then of kids running around in their gardens.

We'd even play hopscotch in those alleys, using chalk to draw the board, and the

rubber heel off one of my father's shoes.

On cold winter nights, we would splash buckets of water down our alley's slight

incline and allow it to freeze over. The resulting ice slide provided hours of

breakneck fun. As good natured as the neighborhood adults were, I do seem to

remember that the ice flows, where they put out the morning trash, caused ill

tempers.

Whenever we walked to any friend's house in those days, we always used the

alleys for the commute. Back doors were used much more frequently than the

front.

Of course alleys are still around today. A couple of years ago, I revisited the

alley on my childhood block and was shocked to see many cars parked along it's