January 2005
Icy Escapades

It's January and Grandma's garden is in the deep freeze, so it looks like this writer will have to introduce you to the Huck Finn group from my local grammar school. Now just what could boys from Newark find to do in winter when most kids today won't leave the warmth of that spot directly in front of -- yes, you guessed it – that device that holds so many people captive watching -- TV -- and, of course, playing video games.

I'll admit it, I too spend my time in front of that electrical wonder but it's usually to catch a laugh when everything else that needed to be done is done. Anyway back to the cold outdoors. Now what goes hand and hand with the cold? What else but good old ice?

Ice in Newark?! Back in the ‘50s when winter was really winter, we took to the ice. If you research the city, you'll find a vast expanse of a wonderful park that is a beautiful diversion from the city noises, bricks and concrete. Branch Brook Park is interspersed with a series of ponds and connecting waterways with quaint little bridges that allow strollers to walk endlessly through the park, especially in spring when one of the most glorious displays of Cherry Blossoms in the country is in full bloom.

But back to the ice and the guys from school, I still remember their names. Great names, great guys, great memories. Ronnie Sibilia, Michael Raimo, Peter Costa, Jimmy Meggison. At times there were others that happened by, but these were the regulars.

We had made plans to meet at the park to play ice hockey. That was really only the initial plan because we knew what it would lead to. The hockey game began innocently enough. It wasn't much of a game but, none-the-less, we made the most of it since we used sticks we found at the park and the puck was nothing more than a flat stone.

The game never lasted long since we were skating in a non-designated area. But that's when the real fun began. It didn't take long for the park police to show up. With the "Keystone" cops in hot pursuit we skated across the pond and down the connecting waterways. Now the best part -- we shot under those quaint little bridges where the ice was so thin you never knew if you would make it out the other side. The thrill of the chase!

Just picture the police – usually only one, but sometimes he radioed for help. There they were, the Keystones trying to catch four or five young "Finnsters" gliding across the ice while they slipped and slid.

Yes, we sly devils knew we had the advantage – that was the fun of it! I'll have to admit we gave them a run for their money. Great exercise, a little dangerous. We laughed a lot, they chased a lot but never caught us. We might have been young pranksters, and we always laid low for a few days before venturing back on the ice, but to us Newark Finnsters it was harmless fun.

If our parents ever knew! Well, hope you readers enjoyed the holidays and the best to all of you for the New Year.

by Lance L. Casper

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