End of an Era

Originally published 12-21-06

Saying 'good-bye' to the family home

By Kelvin Wade

It’s the end of an era this holiday season. Our late mother’s house, the Wade family home, has been sold. This will be the last Christmas at the Wade compound.

We moved to Fairfield in 1976. This four bedroom, two bath house with a massive backyard was the first home we’d owned, having lived in navy housing on both coasts until then.

The new owners might wonder what that huge concrete patio is for in the backyard. It used to be the basketball court where I spent countless hours schooling my brothers and our dad in the art of hoops. The new owners should be thankful the 3 feet of chicken wire no longer rides atop the side fence. Our dad installed the eyesore to prevent Tony’s bricked basketballs from bouncing over the neighbor’s fence.

It was in this house that countless games of Spades, dominos, Monopoly, chess, checkers, Risk, Balderdash, Scattergories and more were fiercely contested and our competitive natures incubated, tested and honed. The gunshot-like crack of dominos will no longer startle neighbors and have them ducking for cover.

It’s not just the house, it’s the neighborhood. This is a place where we played street football and spent hours at the park up the street. The house represents the Fairfield that used to be. The one where gunshots were a rarity, kids went trick or treating by themselves, neighbors knew each other and the police didn’t need to use helicopters to patrol the streets.

The amount of food that’s been consumed at the table there on just holidays alone could probably feed a Third World nation for a year. (And that’s just the food consumed by my brother Orvis).

We’ve spent more Christmases at the Wade home than anywhere else. When we first moved in we were still using a ghastly aluminum tree we’d brought with us from Virginia. The trees evolved but the Christmases stayed festive and funny. Some are thankfully preserved in pictures and video.

The Wade compound saw the transition from legitimate, thoughtful Christmas gifts to increasingly wretched gag gifts. Even today, my extraordinarily cheap brothers are sending out emailed disclaimers to dampen hopes of getting even a remotely satisfying Christmas gift.

It wasn’t always good times. Like any family we had arguments, fights and slammed doors. There was disappointments and heartache within those walls. And that horrible day when the five Wade brothers became four with the death of our brother Ken will always be associated with that house. We were all together there when we got the news.

This house that has been in the family for thirty years is where we grew into men. Since then it’s been the central hub, the meeting place where the bond of family was replenished.

The new buyers don’t seem to mind that the house is trapped in the 70’s complete with paneling still on the walls with shag carpet on the floor. I’m sure they’ll update it. Maybe they’ll put in granite countertops, hardwood floors and some fresh paint. They can take that house, change it, and make it unrecognizable. But nothing can erase the memories.