No Place Like Jenkintown

Dorothy was right on the money, especially when home is Jenkintown.

When I was a kid growing up in Elkins Park, I was thrilled when I was finally allowed to take the bus into Jenkintown on a Saturday to “knock around town” as my great grandmother used to call it. It cost a whopping 25 cents to go from the corner of Elkins Avenue and York Road to be dropped off in front of the Highway movie theater. I was 12-years-old with my allowance firmly tucked in my pocket.

Remember this was the 60s, and it was drilled in our heads: No rides from strangers, never take candy or get into a van, and always find a policeman when in trouble. Admittedly it was a safer time.

My grandmother who raised me, had brought me into to Jenkintown a million times to shop at Strawbridge’s for my Barbie Dolls, Brownie and Girl Scout uniforms, and eventually my first bra. (Third floor toys and scouts and young miss undergarments), or maybe to eat at the Hot Shoppe Jr. Jenkintown was our “town”. Everything we needed we found in its perimeter. 

Here I was feeling like a grownup girl with a few bucks and time. Sometimes I would go to the movies and sometimes meet up with my friends and go bowling at the Thunderbird lanes. I would pop into Woolworth 5 & 10 on the corner of West and York and sit at the lunch counter for a burger and vanilla Coke, the kind in the paper funnel tucked into a metal holder. I would buy an album there ($5), and then stroll over to the Army Navy store (on Greenwood across from the firehouse), and get a pair pf Landlubber jeans ($5). I cruise around town and then jump back on the bus heading home. The love affair was just beginning.

In the 70s after graduating from Penn State, I started working at a new venue, H.A. Winston’s, and rented an apartment at 320 Leedom St. I was directly across the street from the police station where it was located then and the blasted fire whistle. We all got to know all the police officers as they made it a habit to pop into different establishments for a hello and a check. 

I was a young adult now and loved the “scene” in Jtown. After closing the bar at Winston’s, we would cross the street to Ihop, and Alice would serve up breakfast or sometimes we’d all go for a drink at the “V” as the VFW was called.

Whatever I did after my shift, I would walk home feeling safe and secure and happy to be living in a town where the postman, the policemen, and the store owners all knew me by name. 

Eventually I went on to bigger things and met my husband, a lifelong Jenkintonian, as his whole big giant family still living there. We were married at Immaculate here on West Ave and soon rented a house again at 462 Leedom Street.

We would sell our house and move to 409 West Avenue just around the corner from my in-laws and next door to one of my sisters-in-law. The rest of the brood of ten all lived here except for one. After our second son was born, we bought our house, yep, on Leedom Street, where we still live 40 years later and still absolutely love it.

I was active in school events, as a chaperone for trips, a Red & Blue Fair chair for more years than I wanted, and served as a member of the Ladies Auxiliary at Pioneer. We watched our neighbors grow old and welcomed the new neighbors who replaced them. Many had grown up here and come back to raise their own families.

My love for this town only grew deeper. Especially when I visit friends and family in other places and don’t see any of the closeness of Jenkintown. Sometimes they didn’t even know their neighbors.

Now, it hasn’t been all roses. There have been disputes and disagreements, but always when the chips were down this town shined brightly. We had a fire years ago around Christmas and our neighbors were out in full swing to help us.

When my son was struggling with addiction, my neighbors were there with a shoulder to cry on. When my son passed away, my neighbors were there to comfort and feed us. At the funeral it seemed everyone was there including so many officers and politicians. The love and support held me and my family upright. It is as if the entire town wrapped their arms around us. 

Now I’m the “old lady” on the block who says “hi” to all the kids coming home from school (they all say hi and pet the dog), the one who has 25-minute conversation with passersby about the lights in the church steeple or the butterfly plant.

I sit on my porch in the middle of the night or the middle of the day, and you can often here a pin drop. I love my house; I love my garden and flowers. I love them all the more because they are in Jenkintown. I will stay in my house until they carry me out feet first to McGoldrick’s.

I have been thrilled to live the bulk of my life in Jenkintown. It is the epitome of a hometown with its wonderful traditions of bonfire (stay tuned) color day, the Red and Blue fair, the 5K that runs through town right past my porch, the tree lighting, the auto show, the art show in the fall, our little 4^th of July parade and the kids on the bikes, the speech at the memorial, the hotdogs from the firehouse, and more.

All these things make up the beauty and joy that is Jenkintown. But its true heart — its soul — are the people who inhabit this wonderful town. We have police who know us so well, a fire department that is there on the spot, and mail carriers who have spent their careers up and down our streets. And still more credit goes to those that keep our streets clean and pick up our trash, our teachers, our religious leaders, our business people — all have created something special and unique as everything around us changes. Thanks to all they do for the love of Jenkintown, we seem to be able to carry on.

If I had a wish for future generations of Jenkintonians, it would be that they feel the same love and peace that I have felt as a resident of this outstanding community.