Like the corners of my mind...

Today at the corner of 21st and Broadway they are tearing down the old Otasco building. Now, that building has been home to a furniture store, as well as many others, but it will always be to me the home of Otasco. Situated on that blind corner, Otasco was the place I went with my Dad when he needed a new hose or something for the car.

It was also the place my Dad bought my first bike. A light purple bike with a metallic-lavender seat and a basket decorated with purple, pink, and yellow plastic flowers. And training wheels. At least for the first month or so.

I have searched through my Dad's old slides looking for a picture of me on my bike, but have yet to find one. So, I googled "Otasco bike" and this is what I found:

My bike. The smaller girl with the brown hair could be me at the very age I had my bike. I can almost hear the thucka-thucka-thucka of the playing card clothespinned to my spokes. I even had my own nameplate, although not right away. My uncle who gave it to me thought my name was "Matilda." Yes, my mother berated him for hours. A few of my uncles called me the "little professor," so I thought maybe he had just forgotten my real name. Eventually, he brought me the corrected nameplate.

I spent many summer days on that bike, riding up and down the street and over to my cousin's homes two and three blocks away. A few times my Dad loaded our bikes in the wagon so we could ride them at Cheney and Fall river. Even during the fall and the few warm winter days I rode my bike after school. I loved that bike.

It was hard to sit at that stoplight, watching the bulldozer cave in the side wall of the Otasco. I suddenly could picture the rows of household goods, tools, gardening equipment, and the front window filled with bicycles. I could hear my sneakers squeaking along the linoleum floors. I could smell WD-40, paint, and rubber. When the light turned green, I slowly pulled away, glancing ever so often in my rear view mirror.

Tomorrow the building will be gone. My neighborhood continues to change and I know that it is for the better, that this revitalization is long overdue. But that doesn't make it any easier to watch my landmarks crumble.

Comments

[Chandra]

We had an Otasco in Goddard, too.

It's where I got my Snoopy Snow Cone Machine!

You're so right; there was something special about that store.