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player ready...We were there all day, every day. We would come home for lunch and dinner and go back again until the streetlights came on. You need only to look at the faces of people who grew up there to see those childhood memories of a special time.
LaFollette Park was the center of our lives. It’s hard to imagine today, but the pure breadth of it was staggering. So thoughtfully located in the center of our neighborhood, it was our community hub complete with an indoor pool, gymnasium, fitness center, basketball court, auditorium, woodworking shop, tennis courts and a quarter-mile track and field. There were not one but two parks — the “Little Park” for tots and “Big Park” for the older kids (we still talk about Duchy Keag breaking her arm on the big kid swings).
It wasn’t just the facilities that were great. The people behind the park were too — people such as Frank Lucchesi and Miss Joan, the boys’ and girls’ gym instructors, who would put on a show each year training us to perfectly march in time, do springboard flips and other gymnastic maneuvers. Their real objective was to keep everyone out of trouble.
The park had a seasonal rhythm to it. Summers were always a peak time with 16-inch softball games going on all six diamonds — from pickups to senior league games all day, six days a week. At one game, I was knocked unconscious as my head unfortunately connected with a bat. For those who were willing to pay a $10 fee, there was summer camp. We would bring our lunch in a little day camp bag, eating it under a shady tree as we cooled down. The counselors, who were barely older than the campers, would organize field games, arts and crafts; introduce us city kids to the game of tennis; and, of course, schedule time every day for supervised swimming. Everyone from that time remembers waiting in the swim lines for the pool to open — putting your rolled towel down to hold your space.
In the winter, the highlight was skating in the iced-over field. At night, we would head over to the hot house trailer to warm up and, if lucky, find a cup of hot chocolate. At the peak of winter, the Chicago Park District would sponsor skating races with ribbons and trophies going to the fastest. Skating on wild ice was not for the faint of heart. A favorite memory for our family was my dad building two hockey goals out of wood and chicken wire for my brothers, who slid them back and forth between the park and home each game. It was a very special game when Father Ouletta from St. Pete’s joined.
In the fall, the outside field was in demand for St. Pete’s football practices and games. Coach Ed Doyle would be on the sidelines smoking away. The players would be instructed not to drink water during the game because it would make them cramp up. (How times have changed.) At halftime, Hershey bars would be distributed to provide extra energy. From the sidelines, we cheerleaders would clumsily make our way through our “California peaches, Texas cactus, we play your team just for practice” cheer routine.
Field house facilities were in use year-round. Friday night family swims were popular. My dad taught my siblings and me how to swim on those nights. Almost every kid took a class or two in the wood shop where you would come away with some creation. My specialty was little plastic rings, while my brother Bob, Mom’s favorite, was far more industrious, coming home with a birdhouse. Oh, and there are also the vaguest memories of sewing and tap dance classes.
As we got older, the park played an important role in budding teenage romances. So many benches to meet up on. Who would have known that the girl that my 15-year-old brother Gerry saw in 1966 walking across the park “with the most awesome legs you ever saw in your life” would be celebrating a 50th anniversary with him soon?
And incredibly for our parents, all these experiences were free.
Sue Grapenthien Fullman is a former technology innovator at United Airlines and Motorola who is building her photography, videography and storytelling skills in retirement.
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