Chickataubet Road runs between Route 28 in the Milton Blue Hills to Furnace Brook Parkway in Quincy. The halfway
point is at the top of a fairly steep hill which overlooks Boston.There was , and possibly still is, a parking area for those who
wanted to enjoy the view of the lights in Boston.
Our transportation to this popular spot was in a 1930 Model A Ford with a rumble
street. We could usually get 3 or 4 into the rumble seat and 3 or 4 into the front seat. The seating capacity was designed for a maximum
of four and that was tight. We were lucky, we had only one kid who weighed more than 120 pounds but we used to try to skip out on
the journey before he showed up.
We couldn't leave Avon Square until we filled up with two vital liquids, gasoline and beer. The beer
was easy to come by; all we needed was about 50 cents each to get a quart of Dawsons or Narragansett. There was always somebody who
was 21 to make the purchase. The gasoline was a challenge. It was 1943 and gas rationing was in full force. The limit available with
a ration stamp was 3 gallons and that was supposed to last a week . If you were lucky enough to have a stamp, all that was needed
for cash was about 60 cents. If you didn't have a stamp, you could buy one for a dollar.. ..not very patriotic but some journeys just
cannot be postponed.
We always tried to find a parking spot next to a vehicle full of girls. I don't know why, they would stay in theirs
and giggle and we would stay in ours and threaten overt action but never followed through.
When it came time to leave we would have
the advantage of rolling down the hill to Quincy and our destination. The Hollow was a restaurant noted for its clientele of kids
from all the surrounding towns who liked to drive up to the overlook. The restaurant also had grilled cheese sandwiches for about
25 cents and 12 ounce bottles of beer for 25 cents, which they openly sold to kids if they looked over twelve.
Time to go home to Avon.
A check of the gas tank and without question we weren't going to make it without at least a gallon of fuel. We drive through Quincy
and stop at every closed gasoline station we can find. We pull up next to the pump and one kid would get on an other kids shoulders
to make height and tip the hose to empty any liquid still present into the tank. We never knew how much we got this way but it must
have been enough because we always got home.
The climb back up the hill may be a problem. Inevitably we would forget about life's most
vital liquid... water. Small leaks in the cooling system are now beginning to show their effects. We can see the radiator cap and
the steam billowing out. We are only about half way up the hill and we need water badly. A recycling solution takes care of everything.
The beer has converted to a sort of yellow water and needs voiding. We take turns standing on the front bumper and contributing what
we can to the radiator. Those who got too close might have a problem explaining the burned area to his parents or the doctor.After
a while the hissing stops. We continue on the journey without any new occurrences except a carful of kids holding their noses from
the odor of hot recycled beer.