Alley Oop!

Sometimes I feel sorry for kids growing up today in housing developments. They are missing one of the unique and memorable characteristics of living in a small town…alleys. Yes, alleys. Slatington had lots of them. Oak, Middle, Chestnut, Centre, to name a few.

Alleys were the shortcuts to our friends’ homes. They were, for me at least,  the place to learn how to skateboard. They were the setting for many of our neighborhood games like Detective or Hide and Seek. They were the place to walk with a fellow teenage girl if you were trying to get a kiss. They were also good for sledding after a snowstorm because they were the last roads to be plowed.

If you remember a previous post, they are NOT the place to be setting off fireworks….especially if a certain German Shepherd lives close by.

I assume alleys were designed to be service passageways for homes and businesses. Store deliveries, coal deliveries, oil deliveries. Many homes had garages in the back of their house, opening onto an alley.  When I was real small child we had a produce truck visit our neighborhood every week, parking in an alley near our home. Jimmy Mariah. Anyone remember him?

There is an alley in Slatington affectionately called Pigshit Alley. I think it’s real name is Oak Alley. It got its name because pigs, before my time,  were driven through the alley to a slaughterhouse off of Franklin Street. I guess the pigs didn’t “hold it” until they arrived at their destination!

That’s all I have to say about alleys, but I am a little concerned about the image of my hometown that I am presenting, to my non-Slatington readers, with this and another recent post.  Pigshit Alley, the Shit Hooks!  I swear…Slatington is a beautiful little town!