By Jack Houvouras
HQ 48 | SUMMER 2003
As the long days of summer draw to an end, I am beginning to realize that the sultry season is fast becoming my second favorite time of year. Spring will always be first because of the vitality of life that can be gleaned during the mild days of April and May. Like most Huntingtonians I marvel at the natural beauty of fall, but for me there is an emptiness that coincides with the shorter days of that season. And I have no use for winter, save for a few good snowfalls that brighten an otherwise lifeless landscape.
But summer is a special time of year in my mind. Growing up in Huntington near the woods of Ritter Park, summer signaled the advent of longer, fun-filled days. I recall playing with my neighborhood friends in the daylight that didn’t fade until after 9 p.m. When darkness fell, we continued our games well into the evening playing Hide-and-Seek, Spotlight or Kick-the Can. I never quite understood the point of Kick-the-Can, but in the midst of a dark summer night it was an exciting way to fill the time.
My best friend growing up was my next door neighbor, Rich Creamer. During the steamy days of summer we would comb the hills near our South Park Drive homes in search of the elusive blackberry. We were both addicts. Rich liked the berries fully ripened while I preferred the tart flavor of the dark red variety. I remember one year we stumbled upon a veritable treasure trove of blackberries on what we used to call Snake Road. The patch must have been at least seven feet high and nearly a city block wide. We both dove in and began to feast. But in all the excitement I became careless and suddenly found several thorny branches affixed to my scalp. Lucky for me Rich was there and patiently freed me from my misery. I recovered quickly and went right back to work harvesting as many juicy berries as possible.
Our affinity for the tart tastes of summer also included crab apples. There were two such trees on our street where we sat in the shade for what seemed like hours gorging ourselves. I remember that Rich had to take leave from the spot one afternoon when his stomach turned on him.
A large June Apple tree stood in between our houses and we often climbed inside to snack on the small green treats. We spent many afternoons perched atop one of the trees’ sturdy branches enjoying those delicious apples and chatting about our plans for the day.
Summer was a time of year that also showcased the power and placidity of nature. Whether it was the collision of hot and cold air that yielded a thunderous roar that would send my dog running under the bed, or the calming effect of an afternoon rain shower, the sounds of summer were distinct. If you were lucky, your Mom would let you play outside in a heavy afternoon downpour. The rain would turn the hilly neighborhood yards into slick water slides where we hydroplaned over the grasses until we were spent.
Hot summer days seemed unbearable for some, but my friends and I always found the sweltering heat a good excuse to head to a local lake or pool. Nothing offered better relief from the heat than soaking in the cool water for a few hours only to emerge a bit sunburnt and pruned.
Those are just some of my recollections of summer. Today, I enjoy many of the same things I did as a kid. There still isn’t a better way to spend a July afternoon than picking blackberries and eating them fresh off the vine. Nothing is more soothing that laying in bed and listening to the simple sounds of an afternoon rain shower. As summer slowly fades away, I look forward to its return on June 21 and all the warm memories it affords.
