It wasn’t delicate, it wasn’t even pretty, but it hung around my neck and I wore it as if I were wearing a rare piece of jewelry. It was heavy, it was bulky, it was mine.
The sweet thought that this belonged to me, I owned it. What was it?
Well, it was my own personal skate key. Anyone who had a pair of roller skates probably also had their own skate key.
Most everyone I knew was lucky enough to have a pair of their own skates. So what was the skate key used for?
It was a tool, a sort of screw driver. You used it to adjust the wheel connection to the shoes you were wearing. It could become tighter or left a little loose, you worked the key until it felt perfect for skating. Oh the thrill of rolling out into the gutter.
Our streets and roads were all cement, so we had the absolute perfect place to skate. Racing on skates was the greatest feeling. You could practice all by yourself, or go to the schoolyard.
We would form teams or skate with friends, but really the best of all was racing. Everyone always had bruise marks on their legs and arms, that was just part of skating. My Mom aware of my love for skating encouraged me to check out an indoor roller rink. After school one day, I walked ten blocks, hopped a trolley car and rode for about an hour to the only indoor rink in Brooklyn, New York, known as The Prospect Park Roller Skating Rink. It was love at first sight.
Girls and boys skating to music, some alone, some dancing in groups, others as couples. Oh, be still my heart, what a great sight to behold. After asking a lot of questions, and watching the synchrony, I knew I wanted more.
I boarded the trolley back, then running the ten blocks home to report what I learned had to be one of the greatest experiences in my young life. Did I say I was about 15 years old?
Of course with my parents encouragement I signed up for classes and made that trolley trip alone once a week for many years. My parents were always very supportive and for my next birthday, I was given a pair of shoe skates.
They were beautiful white hightop shoes with the skates already attached. And they came in their own wooden box that even had a handle. I painted my name in huge black letters and proudly carried that skate box on the weekly trolley trip. I became part of a couple, learning to dance on skates to the wonderful, beautiful continuous music.
An additional gift, was when my mom made many short skirts for me just for skate dancing indoors, in several different colors.
Imagine my own white shoe skates, learning to dance on rollers, my short colorful skirts, and through it all, my very own cherished skate key forever hanging around my neck on that heavy metallic long chain. No, I did not sleep with it on, it laid next to me where I could see it, where I knew it would always be safe.
your friend,
dorys
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