(BALTIMORE – September 26, 2026) – The Bible says how good it is when brethren dwell together. On Saturday afternoon, September 26, those of us who grew up in Easterwood, West Baltimore, came together to break bread on some Island Quizine, share memories, and enjoy one another’s company.
We are all we have.
There is something about looking across a room and seeing faces you have known since the 1970s—people who watched you grow up, and people you watched grow up, too. I saw my childhood playmate Edward Hairston. I fought Edward more than anybody on planet Earth. We fought almost daily. One day, we fought until the sun literally went down.
Today, Edward is a soldier I would take with me anywhere. His mother was like a mother to me. That’s Easterwood.
We lived in the 1500 block of Moreland Avenue. The Kimballs, the Pattersons, the Grooms, the Whites, the Williams, the Taylors, the Leaks, the Browns, the Cryors—so many families called that block home. Many of the children from our block went on to do great things. The 1600 block was right next door, and then there were the 1700 and 1800 blocks. We remember the families. We remember our people who are gone. Timmy comes to mind. Chucky comes to mind.
Our block was blessed to have Easterwood Park right in front of my house. I could practically fall out of bed and land in the park. We had tennis, baseball, softball, football, basketball, pool, bumper pool, weightlifting, karate, roller skating, and summer camp. In the winter, we played basketball down at Carver Vocational-Technical High School. We swam at Carver and up at Coppin, back when it was Coppin State College.
The memories reach beyond the park: the barbershop at Baker and Bentalou, the Wylies, the Bowmans, the Polstons on the 1600 block of Bentlow, the Webbs. There is so much history in those streets, including painful memories like the tragic death of Dr. Phillips.
And there were the people who gave their time to us. Before Ralph Durant, there was Ed Waters. The more stories I hear about Mr. Durant, the more I understand that the genuine coach I knew as a child was also a legend. We had access to a legend right there at Easterwood Park.
I learned the fundamentals of football from him. Those lessons took me all the way to Dunbar. I wasn’t some great player, but I knew what I had been taught. One year, when we had a flag football team, a son of Morgan State’s Coach Earl Banks coached us, too.
I love listening to the older people tell their stories. A young person can miss so much of a neighborhood’s sports history. Even after doing work on my Legends series, I am still learning things about Easterwood. Legends came through that park whose names and stories deserve to be told. I won’t attempt to name them all here.
I will name Ralph Durant, Eula Mae Williams, and Miss Marion Flood. They were our recreation center leaders, our coaches and, at times, our surrogate parents. They saved lives before us, among us, and after us. They gave us structure, guidance, and love.
Miss Williams put Edward out of the recreation center a few times. Everybody knew she loved him. He is a better man for it, and he remains one of my dearest friends.
Eula Mae and Ralph are gone now. I thank God for what they gave us. They didn’t have to do it, and they certainly didn’t have to do it with love. But they did.
Thank you to Kurt Dunham, Irvin Nore, and Kevin Morgan for helping produce a marvelous celebration of life. Bravo. Saturday gave us another chance to sit together, remember where we came from, and honor the people who helped us get here.
Special thanks to the Easterwood Recreation Center Staff and their fearless leader, Zanes Cypress of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity.
