Newcomer not thrilled by some aspects of Hill life

by DEVON GRIEB

After living in the small community of Ambler for four years, I thought becoming a resident of Chestnut Hill would be a drastic change. I have lived in Chestnut Hill for six months now and have finally realized that physically, Ambler and Chestnut Hill have some differences but aren’t so different; it’s the people who live in both areas who create the towns’ identities.

The communities are centered on a main street, such as Ambler’s Butler Pike and Chestnut Hill’s Germantown Avenue, where the businesses are located bringing shoppers and tourists. Every street that intersects both Germantown and Butler brings you to the residential developments, parks and schools, all built to attract new residents into town.

When comparing a walk down Butler and Germantown, there are differences not in the road itself but rather in the people walking or driving them. The sidewalk was built for people to walk on, so if you’re walking on it, then don’t you think other people are trying to walk on it, too? Consider the recent Chestnut Hill Home and Garden Festival, for example; I agree it was fun and had a lot of interesting things to see, but trying to navigate the avenue to see the booths was almost impossible. Moving slower than a comatose turtle, people would stop in the middle of the road to start a conversation and not move out of the way of walkers-by. Being polite is something many people have forgotten at the turn of the 21st century.

Furthermore, if you’re going to bring a dog to a place where large groups of people meet, it’s common courtesy to other people at the festival to keep the dog next to you at all times. One dog was the size of my foot, and was going to be under it if I hadn’t seen the poor thing before I took another step.

Ambler has two festivals a year, Oktoberfest and the car show. I attended these festivals every year, and there were never any dogs. Police walked up and down Butler to make sure no dogs were walking with their owners. I actually stayed at Ambler’s festivals for the whole six hours and enjoyed every minute of it. Hillers need to be more aware of their surroundings and realize that they aren’t the only people trying to do something. My friend and I were driving home one Wednesday afternoon; we arrived at the intersection of Germantown Avenue and Bethlehem Pike. We were on Germantown with The Chestnut Hill Sports Shop on our right and Borders to our left. The light turned red, and we came to a stop. Four vehicles were going in the opposite direction and ran the red light. One those vehicles was a school bus. I know everyone is always in a hurry, but what about the people who have the green light? Do they have to wait because your plans are more important and can’t wait 20 seconds for the next light? It wasn’t the first time this had happened. I have tried to cross the street numerous times while walking and when I have the right of way, I’m almost run over, not by a little Geo Metro, but by a big Mercedes or BMW sport utility vehicle. I’ll look at the driver, cell phone in one hand and a very suggestive finger displayed upright with the other hand.

In Ambler the same problems occur, only with cheaper cars. Ambler isn’t as luxurious an address as Chestnut Hill, but it’s just as hard to cross Butler without getting your legs scissored off. Americans should be retested on their driving skills if they think red means go.

Being 18 years old, I am categorized in the group of risky young teens by almost everyone. In my six months of living in Chestnut Hill, only one person has stopped me on the street to talk to me. An 82-year-old man who saw I had a cigarette in my hand and was walking towards me on the Hill last Friday afternoon. “Classic” is the only word I can use to describe him. Wearing a suit and tie with a black overcoat and a driver’s cap to complete his classy 1950s’ ensemble. He smiled and looked at me, putting his hand out in a polite manner to offer a handshake. He greeted, “Hello there. Do you have a light?” He held a pipe packed with a dark tobacco. “Sure, hold on one second.” I handed him a pack of matches and returned his smile. We had a five-minute conversation about Chestnut Hill — how things have changed from the town’s early years and where it was going. Two people whom the rest of the world pays no attention to at different ends of the age spectrum, who have lived radically different lives were able to have a normal conversation.

Walking around the Avenue. I have noticed all of the diversity of Chestnut Hill, transforming itself slowly. It’s not just the rich little town so many people think it is. I was walking down the Hill in the afternoon about a month ago. Out of nowhere a man was singing. He was stumbling down the sidewalk, singing as if he were the next American Idol. He walked over to me; I could smell the booze without his even opening his mouth. “Hey, you look like somebody important … maybe a football player,” he said. I looked at him and kept walking. He pulled out his harmonica and blew a tune, at least I think it was a tune, and continued his way swaggering down Germantown. I bet that’s not something you will ever see on the front cover of a tourist brochure. Working as a night manager at the Ambler Acme, I have encountered my share of interesting people who live there. There are drunks standing outside asking for money, and drunks inside forgetting their money. The people who haven’t visited one of the four bars or the Wine and Spirits store come in and complain about everything that’s wrong with it. My only response when people choose to shop there is that there are four other grocery stores three miles or fewer from here, and no one is making them shop at any specific store. It seemed to me that some people shop there so they can yell at my co-workers and me. Because some are so angry with themselves and their lives, they vent their anger on other people. God bless diversity.