St. Hubert junior Julia Boyd (center) was the winner of the Northeast Philadelphia Hall of Fame essay contest. The theme was What Makes Northeast Philadelphia Special? MICHELLE ALTON / FOR THE TIMES
Julia Boyd, a junior at St. Hubert Catholic High School for Girls, was the winner of the Northeast Philadelphia Hall of Fame essay contest. The theme was What Makes Northeast Philadelphia Special?
Julia received an iPad, a $2,000 scholarship to Holy Family University and a gift certificate to the Dining Car.
Julia’s teacher, Terese Lewis, had the most students participate. She received gift cards to Target and the Dining Car.
The student runners-up were Matthew Mallard, a senior at Father Judge, and Gabrielle Simon, a junior at Archbishop Ryan. They received gift certificates to the Dining Car.
The essay contest was open to all Northeast Philadelphia high school students.
The Hall of Fame thanks Holy Family, Dining Car owner Nancy Morozin and Joe Ashdale, head of District Council 21 Painters and Allied Trade Union, for donating the contest prizes. Hall of Fame steering committee member Lynn Rotoli coordinated the contest.
Below is the winning essay by Julia Boyd:
There is a house built out of stone on Algon Avenue in Philadelphia. My very first memory is etched in the walls of that house; a miniature version of myself is twirling in a tulle skirt, wishing one day to be a prima ballerina.
The house built of stone belongs to my grandparents, the owners of the very first home I’d ever fallen in love with. There is a tiny house that my mother used to call “the gingerbread house.” I would imagine the walls were made of candy and that if I believed hard enough, one day I would eat them. The gingerbread house was my childhood home. My mother used to bundle me in a sweater with tiny black cats on it, and I would grip her hand as we wove through the neighborhood to take a look at the neighbors’ Halloween lawn decorations. My father and I would walk to the local Chinese restaurant to pick up our takeaway order. There were always children playing in the street.
When I think of the Northeast, I feel a sense of familiarity and warmth. I remember my other grandmother’s house on Fuller Street, where I met the first friends I ever had. I think of dancing in the street on summer nights, an old friend asking my mother if I was allowed to stay just a bit longer. I think of walking through the many parks, climbing the trees to see the world. I think of the endless strip malls of family-owned small businesses, running into someone you know no matter where it is. I can see my brother playing JV football for Rhawnhurst when he was 10 on weeknights. I think of a place where my parents grew up, where my origins lay. The row homes stretching for miles, identical in the way that they are all not quite the same. I can see a pair of Converse, tied together by the laces, hanging on a power line. I can ride a SEPTA bus anywhere; I can see memorial parks and playgrounds every other mile. Public art lights up the street, the anonymous artist tucking away his tools and moving on to the next mural. The corner diners, Roosevelt Boulevard during rush hour, summer concerts at Pennypack Park. These are all things that make the Northeast special and unique.
Even though I have moved out of Philadelphia and into the suburbs of Jenkintown, I still ride the same route to St. Hubert’s every morning — the same school my mother graduated from. I’ve memorized the street names, and my mother is always able to point out a person she knows as we drive. I pass by Dattilo’s market, a place I would walk with my grandmother to buy lollipops and sandwich rolls. I see bits and pieces of my childhood everywhere I look, and I know no matter where life will lead me, I will never be able to know a place like the back of my hand the way I know Northeast Philadelphia. ••
