Drive along memory lane

By Lisa Biedenbach | Monday, September 26, 2005, 09:45 AM

We drove through a neighborhood called Nostalgia Friday night on our way to the Reds game at Great American Ballpark. The drive down Memory Lane was punctuated by tales of childhood and young adult exploits from my husband and his brother, both of whom who grew up in Price Hill and Western Hills. They are Westsiders true and blue.

The brothers, who could rival the Italian brothers on WVXU’s Saturday morning call-in show, “Car Talk,� were hilarious at times, poignant at others and downright boring to this passenger!

As we drove through Western Hills, on Harrison Avenue to Glenway to Westbourne to Muddy Creek, the sibling duo diagnosed car problems as we passed cars sputtering and knocking, and they pointed out the landmarks most important in their own story: “Hey, brother, do you remember this place was the first place we got drunk?� Or “Hey, can you believe they dammed up our fishing pond on Muddy Creek Road?� Or “This street sure has changed since we grew up. Mom and Dad wouldn’t recognize it at all now.�

As we drove from Western Hills into Price Hill to take a less trafficked path to downtown Cincinnati and the baseball stadium, one brother pointed out to me all the spots where he had been involved in auto or motorcycle accidents. The only accident spot I can recall now is one just a block from St. William’s Church. After a number of these spottings, I zoned out on these accident stories.

We came into the stadium area from the west of Cincinnati — following Elberon Avenue and winding down to Mehring Way and then Pete Rose Way. It was the first time my husband had seen Paul Brown Stadium up close and personal.

We had to drive around in a circle and stop and inquire from several city cops where the handicap parking was for Great American Ballpark. We received directions into the garage under the stadium, a good place to park if you have a disabled passenger, but the fee was a stiff $15! And the trek from garage to our seats was pretty long for our disabled guest.

We watched a great slugfest between the Reds and the Phillies and as we left the stadium at the top of the ninth inning, we were confident the Reds would win. After all, they had a 4-run lead. Alas, Philadelphia batters got the better of the Reds’ relief pitcher and the Reds lost.

Our ride home, which should have been joyous for a baseball victory, turned into a diatribe against Reds’ pitching. The neighborhood called Nostalgia beckoned again as we recalled Crosley Field and Riverfront Stadium and games of prowess and cunning. It was a time when life was gentler and less complicated and the Reds could hold onto a big lead in the ninth.

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