There was a time when houses in Houston, Texas almost always were raised from the ground and had porches that led to the front door. Grandpa William and Grandma Minnie had a home like that. There was something quite inviting about that kind of entryway where my grandparents often sat in anticipation of our arrival as though they wanted to greet us as soon as we reached their home.
Their porch was always decked out with a swing, a glider and cushioned chairs. It was a grand extension of the house. Sitting outside was a daily routine for my grandparents once they had completed their daily chores. They knew all of their neighbors who passed by and more often than not stopped to chat for a time.
We spent so many wonderful moments on the porch that Grandpa had constructed with a roof that kept the harshest aspects of the weather from forcing us back inside. He screened in the whole area to keep the flies and mosquitoes from bothering us as we sat in the shade with fans moving the air even on the hottest days.
I loved sitting next to my grandmother on the glider and watching her click the needles that crocheted some of the most beautiful creations that I have ever seen. Grandpa would hold court in a rocking chair puffing on his pipe and telling stories of his younger days. Somehow neither the heat nor the cold forced us back indoors. That porch was incredibly comfortable and always a fun place to be.
My grandparents lived in the Houston Heights at that time before my father had died. Their house was built of stucco crafted by Grandpa. The porch was the best room in the house that had windows strategically placed to create breezes that kept us comfortable no matter which room we chose but the porch was ultimately the place to be.
Grandma kept orange sodas in the refrigerator for our visits. It never took long before we were all sipping away while being enchanted by the coolness of the porch which benefited from the shade of a strategically placed oak tree. Somehow my grandparents had understood how best to take advantage of the cooling power of nature.
In the fall we would get whiffs of the burning leaves that neighbors collected into the ditches in front of their homes and then set on fire. No candle of modern day has been able to recreate such a delightful aroma. Even better was the fact that everyone up and down Arlington Street was as friendly as people in a small town and they never failed to stop by to welcome us and to chat a bit with my grandparents.
In the winter we donned our coats and Grandpa set out heaters that somehow kept us as warm as if we were inside. Grandma would bring out the quilts that she made by hand and wrap them around our legs. Instead of orange soda she make hot cocoa for us that was creamy and had just the right amount of chocolate and sugar.
Spring brought Grandma’s Easter lilies that adorned the entire front of the house. People would drive by slowly to snap photos of the glorious sight and my mother would take a of photo of me there when I made my first Communion.
I loved visiting my grandparents and most of all I liked that front porch. My own more modern homes had no such thing nor did the other places in our neighborhood. Instead everyone had patios in back of the house behind a fence. We never got to see the parade of life in our hidden haven and nobody came to say hello. Even though it was a private place that felt calm and comfortable it did not have the feel of being part of a friendly community like those houses with front porches always seemed to be. They were a welcoming place where neighbors felt free to gather, a kind of lost concept as the world became more and more modern.
My grandparents home is still there on Arlington Street. The screened in front porch is gone and the stucco has been painted a kind of battleship gray. My grandmother’s lilies are long gone as well and as with most places now the neighbors tend to stay inside with their air conditioning in the spring and summer and their heaters in the winter. The days of the homeyness of a front porch seem to be thing of yesteryear.
I have to admit that I have adapted to that same way of life. When the weather is not too hot or too cold we sit on the patio in our backyard behind a wooden privacy fence. We hear our neighbors enjoying the outdoors but we do not see them. It is sad but true that we are missing something that used to be so enchanting.
