Club of Memories

Coming down Maria drive I look to my left and catch sight of the old elementary school. It is closed now, but it was open when I was a kid, and I even “shadowed” there for a day when I was in 5th grade. Back then, I was going to a French school and this American elementary school was a sharp contrast to what I was used to. A lot of the kids from that American elementary school walked directly across the street after school to hang-out until they got picked up. I turn away and head up the driveway on the opposite side of the street to my destination. From the outside it looks as unremarkable now as it did when I was last here. The building is the same old dull color consisting of a grey rose blue blend. I remember it so well. There is the trademark sign of a blue hand in a hand. This place was built to help kids and keep them out of trouble; it came about in 1949 from an informal meeting of a group of Petaluma businessmen who decided to implement a constructive program to prevent future occurrences after a youth was involved in an unlawful incident that caused the youth to be injured.
For kids from four to fourteen years old there is something for all. It was usually packed with every shape, size and color of kids. Play basketball, compete in foosball, shoot pool – the building was a center of noisy and bustling activity.
The club is right across the street from a now closed elementary school. It combines after school care, summer camps, sport leagues, and birthday parties. Movement, action, noise – The place is meant to be a hub of action, like an airport at Thanksgiving, the mall at Christmas, or the hallways on the first day of school. This is the Boys and Girls Club of Petaluma – Lucchesi Park Clubhouse.
The first sensation that hits me when I push through the glass entry door is a cloud of scent that combines sweaty clothes, candy bars, dust, rubber balls, and kids. I stand at the entry way and pause for a brief moment to look around. When I was young and spent time here, there was always a loud racket of kids screaming, and basketballs bouncing, and sneakers squeaking, and the shrill sound of whistles blowing. While this place looks older and more rundown than I remember, I have a pleasant sensation of being taken back in time. I am back to when I would run as fast as possible to grab a spot at the foosball table or to be on time for a basketball game. No matter what the weather outside, the view from inside is always bright and sunny. This is because of the large windows and bright lighting throughout. A food cart is placed at the entry, next to the kitchen where people can leave off donations. No one is here right now, but I see a stack of Dixie cups and that gives me a jolt of memory. I can taste the apple cider I used to drink from those cups.
There is blue padding on every wall in the gigantic basketball court. Even the bathroom door is padded. Kids can run at full speed into those walls and not feel much pain. Taking up one entire wall are miniature blue bleachers. There are a total of six basketball hoops. The standard two that face each other at the lengths of the court, and 2 adjacent pairs of hoops on each half facing sideline to sideline. When the little kids are having a game, this set up allows the club staff to drag humongous curtain across the half court and create two full and separate basketball courts.
I am past the age to come here and play or hang-out. What I once enjoyed as a kid is no longer fun to me. Yet being here reminds me of the endless possibilities for fun and victory I used to have. As I look around the deserted court I begin to feel a faint sense of disappointment. . I remember the pool that I fantasized about diving into after a basketball game, but it was always empty of water. A vision never fulfilled. I know that I will never again feel the way I felt here as a kid.
I walk back into the rec room and take a last look. I notice the dust motes swirling in the fading sunlight that is coming in through the giant plate glass window. I look up at the old cabinets that are kept clean and repaired by volunteers, notice again the abundance of light and the cozy carpet. These are all the small things that make a difference. I find my perspective wandering from the actual place to the entire town and how this place fits in. I find myself thinking that the City should care very much about fixing it up and make it even more desirable to keep kids off the street. This is the place that will give kids their childhood memories, the place that we all need.
--Sebastien D.