"I was walking on Eagle Street one day, and I remember saying to myself, 'I hope this never changes.' "

Eileen Flynn, North Adams native and former Transcript reporter

WALKS ON EAGLE STREET

a poem by Joe Manning

I do not take lightly

my walks on Eagle Street

I treat them with reverence

My eyes follow the curve of the Flatiron

or the morning glowing on the dark green wood

of a vacant storefront

or the sun catching the top of the brick block

On a rainy day

the buildings huddle together

like an old black and white family photo

And the smells...

bread baking at Molly's

hot dogs sizzling at Jack's

hot pizza at each corner

At busy hours

people rush by

on their way to anywhere else

At quiet hours

I hear the ghosts

forgotten and invisible

like Eagle Street

© 1999 Joe Manning

"My father's shoe store was called Siciliano's Climax Bootery. When I got out of high school, a thought came into his mind that this was such a sweet area, that he ought to go into the ice cream business. It was right on the corner of Eagle and Main where the Pizza House is now. We were the second building in. There was Rice's Corner and my father's building and a fish market. Someone didn't renew their lease, so we changed it from a haberdashery into the luncheonette business and flourished for many years. It was called Siciliano's Luncheonette. We made our own ice cream. As you came in, there was the ice cream bar and booths on both sides and tables in the middle. The ice cream making machine was on the right hand side as you came in, but he never made ice cream while customers were in the store. He probably started making it at ten o'clock at night.

Main Street was narrow then. What do you think went down the middle of the street? Trolley cars. It cost ten cents. I was in school then. It was a very romantic era, honest to God. The cars were just coming into prominence, and they had no such thing as parking restrictions, so there'd be parking on Eagle Street on both sides. And the trolley car would go right down the middle. Sometimes it would just about make it on the turn where we had our store.

Back when I was a kid, and my father had the shoe store on Eagle Street, the shoe boxes had all that wax paper in them. On a Sunday morning, we'd go down, my two brothers and myself, and we'd get all the boxes and strap them together. There were maybe eight feet of boxes. When business opened on Monday morning, we went out the store and into the next store, which was the fish market. We'd give them the shoe boxes. They would wrap the fish and put it into the shoe boxes for the customers to take home. Remembering it now, I can see folks lined up waiting to get their fish, and then going out the door with the shoe boxes."

Lou Siciliano, from "Steeples"

"As a kid of about 11 or 12, I lived at 320 Franklin Street, a house my dad built in 1939. One day, I decided to ride my bike from my house to downtown. Right at the sharp left turn just before Franklin joins Eagle Street, I broke the chain on the bike. It was the old coaster brake type, and of course, when the chain snaps, NO BRAKES! I came down Eagle Street screaming at the top of my lungs, yelling at everyone that I had no brakes."

Bill Hodgson, now a California resident

If Bill had been able to look up for a moment as he frantically descended Eagle Street, he might have noticed how the Flatiron Block resembles the bow of an incoming ship. He might have also admired the lovely row of old facades on the Flatiron side of the street that curve gently around to Main Street. A few weeks ago, I was engaged in such admiration and taking some photographs. I was about to snap a picture, when a man suddenly appeared in view. I asked him to move out of the way. He replied, "Sure, no problem, but I can't imagine what you would ever want to take a picture of on this street."

What I wanted to say was, "Well, since you've asked, perhaps you should look at..." But I passed up the opportunity in favor of this one. Perhaps he will log on to this site. The downtown block of Eagle Street boasts the city's oldest commercial buildings. For the most part, they are also the most endangered. Behind those facades is a renovation project that is running out of chances. The look and feel of these buildings recall their nearly forgotten counterparts that disappeared from Bank, Summer, and State Streets, and the south side of Main Street thirty years ago. Eagle Street is the last remaining commercial block that symbolizes the earliest days of North Adams. With its history of cobblers, barbers, dressmakers, and little Mom and Pop shops, Eagle Street reminds us of a simpler and slower-paced era when most customers and store owners lived in the same neighborhoods and shared a common struggle.

Like Benji, the dog in the story below, Eagle Street needs to be adopted by all of us and nurtured back to health while there is still time.

If you have been in the vicinity of Eagle Street lately, you have no doubt seen a cute furry dog who gets pushed around in a little cart. According to a friend of mine, the dog is Benji, and he is part Cocker Spaniel and part Poodle (called a Cockapoo). My friend and two other persons recently "co-adopted" Benji. Several months ago, Benji had a mysterious injury which broke his back, making it very difficult for him to walk.

A friendly woman who walks with a cane has been taking Benji for rides in the cart to keep him entertained, and for an occasional walk when he's up to it. Jo Jo, everybody's friend from the Mohawk, is especially fond of Benji. A familiar sight in front of 103 Main Street or near Jack's is Jo Jo, the lady with the cane, and Benji keeping each other company. Jo Jo hasn't been getting around well lately either, so they have formed sort of a support group.

Benji's previous owner was unable to take care of him, so the pooch has been hanging out during the day at Tropical Gardens. He is fast becoming the city's new mascot. He got a lot of attention at the Beach Party last month. Benji yips and yaps in his little cart and looks like he's enjoying the ride. To be kind, his bark is a bit shrill, but he's a friendly little thing. He often rides down to one of the banks, where he gets a free treat from the employees.

So how did he get injured? My friend thinks that he might have been hit by a male stranger with a blunt instrument. It seems that Benji is afraid of men. That's one clue. Quite by accident, the new owners discovered that he is deathly afraid of cucumbers and zucchini. Since dogs supposedly can't see colors (like green), the reasoning is that he was assaulted by a man wielding a cucumber-shaped object (or perhaps an ACTUAL CUCUMBER!). Poor Benji. His new owners are willing to pay his medical bills and nurse him back to health. Good for them! We wish Benji a speedy recovery. Stop and say hello when you see him. Meanwhile, if you notice a strange man carrying a cucumber, call the police.

Visit Joe's website at: www.sevensteeples.com.

Email Joe at: manningfamily@rcn.com.