A photo of the northwest corner of Earl’s Meadow.
Remembering Earl’s Meadow
By Richard Mabey Jr.
Earl’s Meadow was this magical, wonderful open field that was located north of the old Mabey Homestead, near the end of Mabey Lane. It was a little more than an acre in size. It was the very place where I played baseball, raced my go-kart, and had bicycle races with the old neighborhood gang. It is a place that, in memory, I dearly cherish.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about Earl’s Meadow. Along the same lines, I find myself returning to it in my dreams, while I’m sleeping at night. To me, Earl’s Meadow represents the joy, the charm and the wonder of a simpler time.
Earl’s Meadow was named after my great uncle, Earl Mabey. Great Uncle Earl was going to build a home there, when he returned home from France during the First World War. Sadly, Great Uncle Earl never returned home.
For some reason, I find myself returning to the old pitcher’s mound of the baseball field that we had built as kids, on Earl’s Meadow. I would be the pitcher, when we would play baseball. On a summer’s day we would have at least a couple of dozen kids playing baseball. More than enough to form two baseball teams. I was a fairly decent pitcher at one time, when I was a kid. That was of course, before the strep infection attacked the valves of my heart.
The summer after sixth grade was my summer of glory. If there was ever a summer of glory for me, it was that summer. I worked hard, very hard in fact, on my fast ball. In time, I learned the art of throwing a curve ball. I had this big dream of playing baseball in high school. Not all your dreams come to pass. But that’s life.
I’m trying to fully understand it all. Why do I keep dreaming that I’m walking the grassy field of Earl’s Meadow? And, why is it that I keep dreaming that I am standing on the pitcher’s mound of the baseball field of Earl’s Meadow?
I most recently took about 90 percent of my comic book collection to a big auction house here in Central Florida. My comic book collection will be auctioned off in a few weeks. I plan on using the money, that my comic books bring in, to pay for the publication of my novel. I know this sounds crazy, but I actually mourn for my comic books.
I think that in some crazy way, I once more need to feel that exuberance, that joy, that feeling that I can take on the world; that I felt when I was 11 years old during the summer of 1965. When I was a kid standing on the pitcher’s mound of Earl’s Meadow, I felt like I was king of the world. I think that deep down, I need to feel that feeling again. So, in my dreams I return to the old baseball field of Earl’s Meadow. The way it was when I was a kid.
Each and every one of us have buried dreams. From time to time, I think that we need to return to the places we knew as kids. The places where we felt victorious and on top of the world. Even if it is only in our thoughts and dreams.