After a recent meeting of Weissport Borough Council, President Gene Kershner and I held a gab session about the good ol' days growing up in Weissport. Kershner, like me, is a senior citizen. He lived in the borough his entire life, but I left the borough when I was a teenager.

This year Weissport is celebrating its 150th birthday.Both he and I wish kids could experience life from that somewhat simpler period.For starters, there were a couple of fields where baseball games were a frequent ritual. Kids of all ages played against each other.The fields didn't have fancy white base lines or backstops. In fact, at least one was privately owned, but the owner didn't stop anyone from trespassing.I lived on Prospect Street - a couple of doors away from Doyle Heffley's dad. At the end of our backyard was one of those fields. It was common to gather there almost daily in the summer for baseball. As other kids came, they just joined in.Vandalism on the field was nonexistent, unlike today where baseball fields are torn up by ATVs and defaced with vulgar graffiti.Another thing I remember about Weissport is Pahula's Bakery on Park Street. To this day I've never tasted a better cinnamon bun, even though they've been closed since probably the early 1960s. We would stop in there before school while waiting at the bus stop.Reed's Store was the place to do your grocery shopping. Behind the counter was a board with small books. The books were tallies for grocery bills for many town residents. If you bought something, the total was written in the book and you caught up with the bill on payday.Gene and I both recall Herman "Heimy" Kernis, a local resident who bought bags of rags from residents. He recycled before it was the in thing.Gene also talked in length about the carnivals that were held. There were all kinds of competitions, including talent. They were family events with rides, games and food. I will confess that I won a talent contest there when I was 5 for singing. I don't know what happened to my voice after that.People looked out for each other. Everybody knew everybody. I used to deliver newspapers at 4 a.m., a route I took over from my grandfather, who delivered them into his 60s. He carried the papers on a bicycle except on Sundays, when he pulled them in a wagon.There were three barbershops on the main street - Schaffer, Troutman and Fisher.Police officers didn't need training back then like they do now. There was one police officer in town - the chief of police - who was a local resident.The two I best remember are Paul Knauss and Benjamin Heydt. They were tough, but they were fair. I don't recall which of the chiefs was on duty at the time, but one time Richard Tracy, who died a few years ago, and I, were running up and down the steps of the Fort Allen Apartments. Someone called the cops and we both ran. Richard was caught."What's your name?" the chief asked him."Dick Tracy," he replied.The cop asked several more times and got the same response, infuriating him. "I want your real name," the cop said. "It's Dick Tracy," which is, of course, the nickname for Richard.Meanwhile, I was under the stairs trying to control my laughter.We'd do our sledding on what we called "the Lunch Room Hill," a section Bridge Street leading to the Central Lunch Room. It was a dangerous place, but few injuries occurred. And nobody would think of suing back then.Weissport was a fun place to live.We'd buy our sneakers for $1 a pair at Woodling's Shoe Store. He also repaired regular shoes.There was a furniture store in town, as well as a local bank. Bertha McGowan was in charge of the bank. One time when I was collecting for the newspaper, she gave me a bank bag that made me feel soooo important.When the town celebrates its 150th birthday on Founder's Day, set for June 3 (rain date June 4), the major things will be recalled such as the Great Flood of 1955, the founding of the borough by Jacob Weiss and some of the massive train derailments.Anyone attending will have their own important events they'll recall. Things like watching hobos board trains in the borough (or jump out of the boxcars), having friends around you all the time and knowing not only your closest neighbors but everybody who lived on your block.We were poor growing up in Weissport. Many others were, too. But we made the most of things.We enjoyed life. We didn't worry about being kidnapped or having someone call the police because we were playing in the street.When we had baseball and basketball games - without adult supervision - there was no foul language. Few fights erupted and when they did, they were settled without getting parents or the police involved.Weissport will always be a special place for anyone who grew up there, especially in my generation.