Thanks to the beehive density of our urban neighborhood of South Buffalo, we had the custom of literally calling on each other vocally when we went to visit friends. We would stand outside the side door of the friend’s house, and in a musical melody call out the friend’s name. “Oh Jimmeee” or “Oh Paddeee.
” It was a phonic signal to the residents of the house that a friend was here to visit. One of the family members in the home usually heard the musical summons and alerted the requested urchin to answer the doorway summons. I don’t know where or how the practice got its start.
Perhaps the tradition emanated from a people with rural roots, where door bells were not common and house residents were often busy with chores in the home and difficult to summon. Whatever the reason, it provided a musical sonata of summons for all of the neighborhood. Because there were more than 50 children on Seneca Parkside, our compact dead-end street abutting Cazenovia Park, the sound of these utterances occurred during most of the day.
They lasted until the small band of street urchins were settled in for the night, having had dinner and were watching television. And with repetition, the calls were often recognized by neighbors. They knew who was calling whom.
Because there weren’t many cars available at the time, the dead-end street often became an urban bazaar, where kids scurried hither and yon daily, on their way to and from the nearby St. John’s Elementary school or to var.
