Popp’s and Other Woodhaven Adventures

There was a cast of characters connected to Popp’s and to Woodhaven in general. Some I didn’t know very well but they were still a part of the picture I have of these teenage years and the crowd that hung together in this neighborhood. A lot of the houses were connected to each other or at least they were very close together and many were two families making for an abundance of teenagers in close proximity.  At a time when we didn’t yet have cars or licenses, it was an ideal atmosphere for congregating.  Even if you didn’t actually live in Woodhaven, like my brothers or me, it was still easily accessible by bus or the elevated train.   I remember with special fondness the parties in Tom Marski’s finished basement.   It was a relatively private, pleasant place to set up a record player, and dance. Sometimes, the lights would be turned down low until we heard  my Uncle Joe Marski’s footsteps approaching the door to the basement, and someone would yell out, “ Get the lights, here comes the General!” 

Does anyone remember a game called, “Seven Minutes in Heaven” ? You’d somehow get chosen to go into the unfinished, back room of the basement with someone of the opposite sex. It was dark in there and you were supposed to close the door and do something exciting and sexual while you were in there.  Did anyone ever do anything worth mentioning, while you were in “heaven” for seven minutes?  I believe I went in there once with someone ( I have no idea who ) and I vaguely remember us moving around to make some noise and humming and giggling so that those on the other side of the door would get the idea that we were having a wild time together.  

In retrospect my Aunt Maureen and Uncle Joe, where quite generous allowing us to party in their basement on a rather regular basis.  I especially remember the bathroom in that house as us girls would spend a great deal of the evening running up and down the stairs to congregate in the bathroom reapplying our makeup and sharing our observations about what was going on at the party downstairs.  If you were feeling a little anxious or shy, that bathroom became a safe haven where you could retreat to take a deep breath, and recompose yourself.   I don’t know about you, but at that stage in my life my self confidence often needed bolstering.  

I remember the frown on my Uncle Joe’s face when I’d arrive at his house in my latest miniskirt, enter through the side door and walk through the kitchen on my way to the basement.  He’d mutter something loud enough so I would hear him -  “look at that skirt, look at all that makeup on your eyes”, “you look like a communist!”  I wasn’t sure what those things had to do with communism, and I was so excited to be at the party, that I remember I found his comments humorous rather than hurtful.   Thanks Aunt Maureen and Uncle Joe for opening up your home to a bunch of us teenagers!