Reading To Kill a Mockingbird for my bookgroup, I am reminded of the Pershings who lived on my street in the West Oak Lane section of Philly in the late fifties. Mr. and Mrs. Pershing, elderly and childless as far as we could tell, was the family that scared us.
We lived on a street of rowhouses, of course, (this is Philly) and about one-hundred children populated that particular block in the babyboom era. After dinner on summer nights, most of the kids under fourteen played games in the back alley--baby in the air, dodge ball, etc. Midway through the games, when the noise level reached a certain pitch, the Pershings, in the center of our street, would set their dog upon us, dispersing us to our homes. The dog was a terror, big-jawed and a loud barker.
This trick was more effective in sending us to bed than a thousand parental calls. The Pershings were not as mythical as the Radleys but they were the family on our block that terrified us. To my knowledge, no one ever reported their behavior to the police or even commented on it. Parents then were not so easily enraged or proactive. Maybe our parents were grateful for another fall guy.
Did you have a family like the Pershings on your childhood street?
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