Driving down the Houston viaduct into downtown every M-F morning, I say a little, "Goodbye and see ya later" to Oak Cliff. Each afternoon, it's, "Well hello, I'm back."
I love Oak Cliff. Always have.
When I was a young child, my dad and stepmom got hitched in Lakewood and transplanted their new family to Oak Cliff. On weekends, I called my dad's little white house on Brandon Street "home." The old folks in the neighborhood complained about how Oak Cliff was "going to hell in a hand basket." Even tho I had no idea what they meant, I knew that it wasn't good. But, I was right at home, fire and brimstone notwithstanding.
Years passed, my mom moved us to Garland, and my visits to my dad grew fewer and far between. Off to college in Austin, five years there, a return to Dallas, a house in Lakewood...and my Oak Cliff was all but forgotten.
But then something happened. I convinced my man Jason to check out this part of town from my past. We headed west into unknown territory, hopped the fence at Western Heights cemetery to gaze at Clyde Barrow's grave marker, snapped photos of a strange, new land. A few weeks later, we decided to buy a house in Oak Cliff.
Our house on Catherine Street, June 2006Today, we call the North Cliff Conservation District "home." Our house on Catherine Street is a short 8-blocks from my dad's old house. My stepmom is gone (d. 2001) and my stepsister lives with family in Arkansas. But don't you know, my dad still holds down the fort on Brandon Street. He comes by once a week to visit us and his new grandson, Ian.
With Oliver on the steps of our home, February 2008We are proud to raise Ian in Oak Cliff and we strive to make our little corner of the world a place he will grow to love. We've come a long way.
