The West Side Time Warp

Today I rode the bus from Southtown where I live to The West, the part of St. Louis City that most people are ignorant of. See, the area from directly East of Skinker, West of Kingshighway, south of Natural Bridge and North of Delmar is where I am from. I was supposed to go to Laclede Elementary but my mother decided to enroll me into a county school. I could never ride my Big Wheel or bike past Hamilton. I played Court Ball at Barrett Bros Park. I bought penny candy from the corner store when my mom allowed me to. Dellwood is a huge part of my life but The West is my home. It is where I learned how to fight, compete and talk shit. Because I speak very properly, kids always thought I was from West County but they would be surprised to see me in the city. Even in the summer when I was older I preferred to be in the city. I live in the city now but not where I grew up. The part of the city I grew up in looks the same from the 1980s. A lot of the same vacant houses then and barren lots are in a time warp. Fashion and music changed but a lot of the same corner stores are still there. Mr B's (Price Chopper) burned down. That shit hurt. Goodfellow Place finally got fenced in one side because it was hot and Goody-Goody is still packed on the weekends. I walked around looking around today and there are new houses on Belt, Minerva, St. Louis Ave, Etzel and Plymouth but most of it looks the same. My mom does not go back at all. I do not blame her. My family is gone and I have not seen my friends in forever. I love my old neighborhood but it still looks the same and depresses me when I drive through. There are no amenities there. The groceries are high. There hardly is any produce. There are barely any restaurants unless you count carryout or one or two lounges that serve food. You can buy chicken wings and tripe sandwiches in the hood but nothing healthy. The streets, lots, alleys and old properties are littered with trash and barely there. It looks the same as when my mom had that Jheri Curl and drove a Camaro (swag my mom's IROC Camaro the fuck out). It is crazy to me but I understand. Young grandmothers walk with their grand-babies and cats complain about their baby mamas and baby daddies. It is worse than when I was a kid. At least I had uncles and aunties on Highland to watch my whereabouts. Kids don't even play outside like I was allowed to. I pray for my home. I understand more about myself whenever I am there. Praise God.