Central Park

Llewellyn was bordered by train tracks on the south, Islington Avenue on the west, and Central Park behind and which stretched around the north and east perimeter of our street.  Central Park was the recreation area of our microcosm and provided unlimited activities for us.  Tennis courts, baseball diamond, swings and slides, skating rink in the winter - everything we could ever ask for!  Islington ended at our street so access to Central Park was either down the dirt hill at the end of Islington, or down through the bush behind our street. 

At the bottom of the hill and beside Central Park, was a swamp area (later cleared to make way for Richview Side Road), which we called the 'Chinese Gardens' for some unknown reason.  This swamp was filled with bull rushes, a variety of pond life, and was a magnet for the boys in the area.  The bull rushes were collected to use as weapons during fights and I remember getting hit with them and having them explode showering me with fibres and seeds.

Central Park had a summer day camp every year and once school was out, we couldn't wait for the camp to open.  We spent every day at this camp doing arts and crafts, playing games, but mainly watching in awe as our camp counsellors worked on their tans with baby oil!  They seemed like gods to me.  I recall Brian Shore, bleached blond hair and muscled body, who looked like a Beach Boy (before the Beach Boys ever existed) and who became the object of my affection that summer.  Another counsellor was Dave Dryden (brother of the legendary Ken Dryden).  I marvelled that these gods would walk among us and interact with mere mortals - and mortal children at that!

The end of summer camp was marked by a Penny Carnival!  We had booths for games and to sell things we collected from our neighbours!  The carnival culminated with a parade where we all got to dress up and march around the neighbourhood!  One summer parade, I wore a long green velvet gown (obtained from Chrissy Crawford's dress up trunk) and had my hair down (usually in braids to avoid cootees).  I felt like Guinevere and cast longing glances at my Lancelot (a male counsellor of course).

The park has been renamed Thomas Riley Park but it will always be Central Park to me!