Country roads, take me home to Moundsville
By
Gerry Niskern
Before the car pulled away I was already sitting on my Grandma’s front step strapping on my roller skates. I tightened them with my key and off I sailed.
Dad usually dropped my Mom, sister and me down in Moundsville at my grandma’s on Fridays in the summertime. I loved skating on the smooth, endless sidewalks instead of going round and round in our basement at home.
Besides my grandma, three of my Aunts and Uncles lived on the same street and I was soon gathering cousins( the best part of coming to town) as I raced along. I was free to roam the town, but admonished “don’t go around to Paulines”. Of course I sneaked right around the corner to Aunt Pauline’s. She made the best donuts in the world and I always came away with a large, warm donut fresh out of the kettle, covered with sugar.
Someone usually said, “Let’s go down to the mound.” Off we raced, left our skates at the bottom and climbed the path up to the top of the mound. We made up all kind of games racing round and round and up the sides of the mound. Little did we realize that one of our favorite places toplay was a national treasure. The mound was the largest burial mound in North America. It was created by a prehistoric Native American culture called the Adena, over 2,000 years ago. In later years the mound was declared a National Monument and given greater respect. A museum was built detailing the creation and interior of the ancient mound.
Back at grandma’s we looked for arrowheads in the her large garden. They were easy to find in the rich, black, sandy soil. It was said that many a battle had been fought over the precious Ohio river valley between the Blackfeet, Shawnee, Seneca and many other tribes.
After a quick lunch of my grandma’s daily freshly baked bread, spread with sour cream, I skated over to Jefferson Avenue, the main street, to the drugstore where I spent my nickel on a two-sided cone of the tangiest, tastiest double scoop of orange sherbert. On the way back to Grandma’s everyone I passed was asking each other only one question. “Are you going to the Playground tonight?” Of course they were!
The Playground was actually an outdoor community center carved out of the hillside, with large cement tiers cascading down the slope for seating. At the bottom there was wonderful playground equipment, but also three swimming pools, a skating rink, and a bandstand with a giant movie screen behind.
After dinner people from all direction could be seen walking towards the Playground. They carried blankets and pillows for the little ones to sleep as they found a place to sit on the steps. The band was playing lively John Phillips Sousa marches and the kids were gathering on the skating rink to march in patterns led by high school girls. The parents watched the marching demonstration below and the kids were rewarded by the leaders with a piece of candy. Then the band swung into some old favorites as the large crowd sang, “Daisy, Daisy”, “Ka,Ka,Katy”, and “When Johnny come marching home again”. The community sing always ended with “God Bless America”. I’m sure the energy of the voices carried the melodies to towns on down the valley. By that time it was dark and the movie of the week started playing on the giant screen.
Later Dad’s Black Plymouth carried us home ten miles up thru many switchbacks to our house on top and the pure, fresh air of the country side . It would have been much easier for my dad, an industrial engineer for the Fostoria Glass Company, if we lived In Moundsville, especially in the winter when he drove those winding icy roads. He was adamant that his family was going to grow up in clean, fresh air out in the country.

BRIEF HISTORY OF MOUNDSVILLE, WEST VIRGINIA: In 1886 two small settlements, Mound City and Elizabethtown were consolidated into the town of Moundsville. It was on the banks of the Ohio River in the Ohio River Valley that eventually contained many coal mines, steel mills and other factories. Moundsville was a pleasant place to live but the air was highly polluted. Black soot from the many industries covered everything. When I visited around thirty-five years later after many regulations had been imposed to curb the industrial polluting, I was pleasantly surprised to see how fresh, colorful and clean it was everywhere.