East Cowan

May 14, 2016

Lady Anna was a good walker with a pace that challenged Geezer, whether on the streets of Manhattan or a fire road in the Sierras. We liked to walk. The Houston Crestwood neighborhood where she grew up was ideal with its level blocks and sidewalks, with its variety of homes and folks in their yards. Anna knew most of them. Our first loop could take a while as she stopped to chat.

Some twenty-five years ago, the evening before her operation at M.D. Anderson, when we didn’t know whether or how she would survive, we once again walked the Cowan loop and wandered around the grounds of her old school, Memorial Elementary, where we stopped to watch some kids playing impromptu softball.

We stopped a couple of times to chat with neighbors.  We passed pre-teens skating in the street and on the narrow, uneven three foot wide sidewalks; no elbow pads, no knee pads, no helmets. We stepped aside onto the grass to let them pass.

I remember three or four helmet-less boys on bikes racing, stunting and shouting in the quiet street. A group of pre-teen girls sat on a porch chattering. We smelled that distinctive scent of “cuttin’ meat” cooking on backyard charcoal and caught wisps of music and the voices of neighbors sharing tales, iced tea and beers. It is a fond and emotional memory of the neighborhood… we didn’t know if it was our last evening together and we had been told to prepare for the worst.

Returning today to Houston I took Lady Anna for her last walk around the Cowan loop, again with a stop to look at Memorial Elementary.

I parked on an empty, quiet street in front of 311 East Cowan, the old spot. The neighborhood has changed radically over the quarter-century. Gone are all but two of the cozy bungalows, replaced by a wall of tall sound-proof, air conditioned, lot-line to lot line homes protected by electronic gates. The maturing subdivision of twenty-five years earlier had been teetering toward going downhill when it was discovered and “saved” by the wave of gentrification so apparent today.

The streets were an eerie quiet. Only one other car was parked on the street. Thankfully the familiar three-foot sidewalk was still there… with any deteriorated spots having been replaced with faux-marbled concrete squares.

The simple grass we knew was gone, replaced by weedless lawns of perfect heights. An occasional laborer snipped and edged, raking off any leaf that might have intruded. Stepping off the sidewalk left footprints reminiscent of walking on a freshly vacuumed carpet.

Most autos were parked invisibly behind doors or security gates. There were  a few high-end envy cars symbolically displayed outside the gates; a high end Gen-X Mercedes, a Gen-Y Beemer and the obligatory Millennial’s Tesla. Occasional Mercedes SUVs sat inside the gates, ready to load the children safely away from any dangers the street might present and to whisk them off to their ice skating lessons at The Galleria.

As we walked the loop the uniformed Crestwood Security Service officer slowly cruised by twice, giving us a good look… and message.

Memorial Elementary’s gates were securely locked, its perfectly conditioned playfields quiet and empty. A family of four on bicycles passed by heading for Memorial Park. Dad on his Peugeot, sporting a  racing shirt, cycling shorts, gloves and helmet was followed by Mom in carefully matched Athleta outfit. The pre-teen boy and the slightly younger girl followed in formation.  During the walk we also saw a mom in jogging gear trotting along  pushing a three wheeled stroller, checking her heart rate on her Apple Fit Bracelet, and a couple of Boomers walking Yellow Labs and a full-size carefully groomed Poodle.

As we drove off I imagined I heard a sad sigh from Lady Anna.

-Geezer