We lived through the thirties and forties,

The babies on Baltimore Street,

Climbing up trees and on roof tops,

(Without breaking bones–no small feat!)

We grew (or were born) while the War raged,

The babies on Baltimore Street,

Saving paper, and string and whatever

Would help the allies defeat

The “enemies”  somewhere over the ocean,

And bring uncles back home again,

To babies of Baltimore Street, who

Could not quite figure out when.

Our staunchest defender was Grandma,

The Lady on Baltimore Street,

Whose wrath on our foes was a marvel,

And proved that revenge could be sweet;

Her house was our home and our fortress,

She kept us all sheltered from harm,

The stairs and the cellar and back yard

All part of its beckoning charm;

 We carried her bags from the market,

The Babies on Baltimore Street,

And making a trip to the Juice Bar

For a hotdog was really a treat,

On bicycles, scooters, and skates, we

Ventured all over the ‘hoods,

Free to wander all over the place,

Building hideouts and forts in the woods.

Those days have been gone quite a long time,

but recalling the memories is sweet,

And I’m proud to say that I was one

Of the babies on Baltimore Street.


Sandra Lee Smith/written for the family cookbook “Grandma’s Favorite” self-published in 2004.

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