Life in the Ville by Jimmy Del Ponte

Remember the good old days when we were able to leave our houses and go out? As many of us have been binge watching TV and movies, I’ve dug up some true tales of yester-Ville. Here are some stories of how some of us occupied our spare time growing up in Somerville in the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s.

Do not try any of these stunts as many were extremely dangerous and foolish. But it is what it is and it was what it was. I’m combining the stories that were shared by readers. It’s many separate remembrances mixed together. To all the Somerville newcomers, you missed a very exciting time.

My pal and I just finished another long Friday night of drinking too much. We woke up on a Saturday morning, hungover, and went for coffee and donuts. It had rained the night before and the roads around the Broadway projects were slick.

My friend hit the gas too hard and the car skidded into a parked car. My immediate reaction was, “GO! GO! Take Off! Let’s go!” The crash crumpled the hood up so that my pal had to hang out the driver’s side window to see. He took off heading back to the projects.

I don’t know how it was possible, but when we made it back to the projects the cops were waiting for us. We got bagged. Someone must have reported the license plate the second we hit that parked car. I think the cops took our donuts.

Same kid: I used to hang from my third floor bedroom window and drop to the ground to sneak out of the house. Then I would hang from the roof and swing into my window to get back in.

I tried to steal a candy bar from Kresge’s. The boss jumped out from behind the counter and said “You know where you will end up if you keep it up!” That’s about as crazy as I got.

We thumbed a ride to Malden and these guys that picked us up pulled a gun to scare us. Oh, they did scare us and let us out unharmed in Malden. I don’t think any of us ever thumbed a ride again.

We climbed up onto the Ball Square bridge and walked across it!

Many of us climbed the fence at Foss Park (or Dilboy) Pool at 2:00 in the morning, on a hot August night.

I swam in the Mystic River and lived! We swiped donuts from Russ’s Donuts between Highland Ave. and Lexington Park.

I’ll take the fifth … but will apologize for anything and everything I did to anyone it affected. I grew up in a neighborhood where we stuck together like glue we did things that would make the news today.

We climbed the light tower at HP Welch Company on Somerville Ave.

We thumbed to Nahant, got picked up by guys on motorcycles. If my daughters did that I would have killed them.

I had a dad who was very well known in the city back 50 years ago. I was scared someone would see me doing crazy things and tell him. I was always scared that my father was following me.

I had a job as car parker at a hotel in Cambridge. I borrowed cars and picked my friends up and went drinking and smoking pot in customers’ cars.

We used to break into the sawdust company next to Saint Anthony’s Church so we could slide down their loading chute into the bales of hay. Great fun at 10 years old.

One morning me and my cousin hopped a freight train near Medford Street to go a couple of blocks. It never slowed down. We were around nine years old. The conductors grabbed us and scared the hell out of us as we were traveling past herds of cows they told us we would never see our parents again and would have to work in the cow fields. We ended up in New Jersey. The conductors ended up being great guys and they escorted us back to our parents, but we didn’t get back till 10:00 p.m.

I skipped church with my sister who then passed out and broke her front tooth! Try explaining this to your mother!

On a dare, I rode my Stingray bike in the front door of Woolworths on Elm Street in Davis Square, rode all the way through the store with the manager chasing me, then passed the pet section, down three stairs, and out the back door.

After sneaking in to a Bruins game we climbed up into the rafters above the ice to hide from the security guards. Stupid, huh?

Me and my pal got arrested at a wild party, cuffed and taken to the police station, in the old “meat wagon,” where my pal’s dad was a cop. His dad didn’t turn us loose like my pal said he would. We spent the night in the pokey. My father was livid.

I used to hang out on top of the bread factory and listen to Aerosmith (they rehearsed in a building on Lowell St.).

We used to hang out near the tracks. When the police were coming we put a long metal bar across the railroad tracks and stood on it. That triggered the railroad lights to signal that a train was coming. Now the cops couldn’t cross the street and we had time to scatter. They never figured it out.

We would drag race on Rt.2! My husband and brother-in-law had 1969 428 Cobra-Jet, my cousin had 1970 454 Chevrolet and cousin Jimmy had a roadrunner! We were crazy, but oh what fun! I buried the speedometer on a 1967 Dodge Dart with a 225 slant six engine at 120 mph speeding down Route 2. I used almost all my dad’s gas. By the way, it was the first time I used my dad’s car the first day I got my license.

We didn’t have video games or cell phones or computers in the old days. We found adventure in our neighborhoods with our friends. Stay safe everyone.