The Hunts

The Hunts

Woodbine Avenue

Philadelphia

1962 to 1982

The Hunts look two doors away from us. There were 10 kids. And the Bartons, who lived beside us, had 10 kids. There were seven in my family. So, at any time in this part of my history, the 27 of us played together. We mostly played in the Hunts’ backyard because they had the biggest yard. And we played war. We were always fighting the Germans and the Japanese and we always won.

In addition to their parents, Mrs. Hunt’s parents lived with the family, so the 14 of them lived in this huge stone house. Their house was so big that they had a milk dispenser in the kitchen.in addition to regular milk, they had chocolate milk and I was jealous of them every time I had the opportunity pour myself a big cool glass of chocolate milk. This to me was the height of luxury, a goal every family should aspire to achieve.

Sometimes when I am with my siblings, we challenge each to rattle off the names of all the Hunts:  John, Michael, Steven, Tommy, Kathy, Jimmy, Rosemary, Billy, Christine and Lorraine. We often forget about Lorraine because she was born late in life and didn’t play war with us.

When we were in grade school, the Hunts were a power family.  The three oldest boys played the piano and they would play together all squished up on the one piano bench and each with an intricate part to play. They were talented. They looked angelic as they sat there and entertained us.

And when we have science fairs, the Hunts came to school with 3-D boards that clearly laid out a scientific problem with sound solutions and explanations. They won every year hands down. in those early years, the nuns loved having a Hunt in her classroom.

Mr. Hunt owned a bar. So, he worked long, long hours. But when he was home he was present and engaged with his kids. One time the ice cream truck came down the street. Mr. Hunt stopped him and purchased everything in that man’s truck. Then he distributed all the ice cream to all of us and told the man “don’t come down the street again”. We have a lot of ice cream that night.

One time he bought out a small clothing store that was closing. Their dining room was turned into a storefront and neighborhood parents came in with their children and bought things from him. My mom bought me a coat. Once everything was sold, the room is back to being the dining room.

Mrs. Hunt was beautiful, quiet, kind and loving to her children. She smoked cigarettes and dyed her hair jet black. She sat on my mother’s couch the day Kennedy was shot and she and my mother cried together. They were filled with so much sadness.

The grandparents kept this family together. The grandmother was not hesitant to call any of us on our bad behaviors.  She was tough as nails and we knew not to cross her. The grandfather was quiet like Mrs. Hunt. When they died, so did much of the order and stability of this family.

They moved but I don’t know where they went. And when they moved their friendship with my parents ended. It was as if they vanished from the planet. I didn’t see them for years until we had a death in our family. And they all showed up: John and Michael and Tommy and Billy and Jimmy and Rosemary and Kathy. They showed up and I was so comforted by them.