Rockin’ at the library

On March 25, 2021, in Latest News, by The Somerville Times

This story was originally printed on July 12, 2008. I decided to update, tweak, and recycle it as The West Branch Library renovation nears completion.

As in all of my recollections, this timeline is as close to reality as my memory allows it.

About 10 years ago, my oldest boy and I went to the West Branch Library on College Avenue. Up the winding, creaky stairway on the top floor of the library is the attic – or rotunda, if you will. There is (was) a small stage along the back wall (see photo) – a stage that local bands, including my band Shadowfax (in photo) used to perform on during a very short period in the early 70’s. You see, there use to be a Teen Center on top of the West Branch Library, until the craziness of those times destroyed it.

On a hot summer day in or around 1969, a bunch of us kids were hanging around on the corner of Bay State and Kidder Ave. Teddy B lived in the house on the corner, which was owned by former Somerville Mayor William Donovan (his uncle). The corner is where we met, laughed, grew shoulder-length hair and smoked Winstons/Newports and other stuff.

This corner is also where my parents stopped by on their way home from church, which forced me to put a lit cigarette in my coat pocket until they were done asking me to show them the church bulletin – because having the church bulletin was proof to our parents that we went to church. It was one kid’s job to go into the church and grab a bunch of bulletins and pass them out to whoever needed proof.

The corner is where we played hooky from church and showed off our blue denim ponderosa pullovers with rawhide laces, bell bottom pants, and new cassette tapes. One day, this 6-foot 4-inch tall, rotund, bearded guy (who looked like the big dude from Harry Potter), approached us with the idea of starting a teen center. He introduced himself as Art. He was trying to get some sort of grant, which would make him the teen center coordinator.

After weeks of planning, he/we received funding for a teen center and they gave us the top floor of the West Branch Library. When we first climbed those stairs up to that top floor, we were psyched and full of speculation. A teen center! Cool!

We cleaned it up, painted it and held live dances up there featuring local bands.

Now mind you, these were the days of 99 cents bottles of Ripple and Boones Farm Apple Wine. Needless to say, getting buzzed was very cheap and easy. Loud music, cheap booze, no A/C and teenagers were a lethal mix for trouble. Let’s not forget to add in pot and the various pills of the era into the mix.

I don’t remember a police detail being assigned to the concert, but I do remember the 25 officers and EMTs that were needed when a night at the teen center went horribly wrong. A group of roving troublemakers who terrorized the area for years decided to crash the concert and beat the hell out of a couple of kids. One kid almost died.

I still get a cold chill when I go by that Library. It was such a good idea, but it just couldn’t fly. Soon after the brawl they closed the teen center and we went back to hanging around on the corner of Bay State and Kidder Ave.

When I went up to the top floor of the West Branch for the first time in over 35 years, the place looked smaller than I had remembered. I got a bittersweet feeling inside. I remember playing Smoke on the Water one minute and hearing broken glass and sirens the next. One of the guys who got the worst beating recovered fully with the help of some expensive dental work. I’ll never forget how an idea so innocent and exciting could lead to such a violent end.

The early 70’s were a tough time to be a teenager and more than a few of our friends didn’t make it. I think of them a lot. They will be young forever to me. Thankfully, there were seldom if any problems at the Somerfest block party concerts that came along shortly thereafter.

When I walk by the newly renovated West Branch Library, I recall the music and the mayhem. When I go by the corner of Bay State and Kidder Avenue, I think of the short, longhaired Italian kid with the smoldering cigarette in the pocket of his leather jacket. I am glad I grew up in such a hectic era and survived. I have great memories.

 

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