Peck Road was more than a lover’s lane. It also was a childhood playground, a hazing site, a family gathering place and a teen party zone.
After reading the column “Peck Road was for lovers, or so I heard” (Aug. 15) about the secluded lane off Cuyahoga Street in the Cascade Valley, Beacon Journal readers shared a few memories of their own.
Keep reading.
Escape to Clay Mountain
Attorney Paul Siegferth Jr. said he almost fell out of his chair when he saw the 1975 photograph of an eroded hillside overlooking Peck Road.
He never thought he would see that slope again. Everyone used to call it Clay Mountain.
“I grew up on Malvern Road in West Akron,” Siegferth recalled. “My grandparents, great-uncle and great-aunt lived on North Hill at 22 and 34 West Salome. My dad and I, along with our dog, would frequently walk from our house on Malvern to Canyon Trail Park, climb down the hill to the railroad tracks, and work our way to West Salome.
“This was all going down during the late 1970s and early ’80s. Along the way, we would stop at the old outdoor shooting range and dig slugs out of the berm, or, armed with BB guns, shoot bottles and cans out of the Little Cuyahoga as they floated by.
“We would then work our way to Cuyahoga Street, along the old Akron City Workhouse location, and dash across the street to what is now the Chuckery area. I remember walking from there to Peck Road and seeing all of the old landfill junk popping out of the ground. Old appliances, toys, etc. It was always an adventure walking through there.
“Our waypoint on our journeys to West Salome was always Clay Mountain. My dad and uncles told me stories about playing there when they were kids, and I soaked them up.
“This is the eroded hill that appears in your Peck Road article. To the right of the pic in your story, blocked by trees, were slot canyons carved out by erosion. The soil was gray and mostly clay. We would jump down into these crevices and let our imaginations run wild.
“We’re lucky there were no cave-ins while we were playing there. We would eventually work our way to the top of Clay Mountain, and you could see forever from the top.
“From there we’d work our way through the woods, and I believe we’d come out at the north end of Wall Street, just a few blocks from West Salome. Once there, we’d get something to eat, and my grandmother would complain about the dirty dog and take the hose to him and sometimes to me. Depending on how long our journey there took, we’d either walk back or call for my mom to come and get us.
“Over the years, I continued that journey with my dad, friends, solo, and different dogs, across different seasons. Thanks for writing the story. I could go on for hours about my adventures in that area.”
Family fun on Peck Road
Here’s a reader who recalls visiting family on Peck Road in the early 1950s.
“I really enjoyed your article on Peck Road because it brought a lot of memories back to me,” Sandy Rilling wrote. “I am 81 years old and spent a lot of time on Peck Road because my grandmother, Agnes Rilling, and her son, George Rilling, my uncle, owned the two houses at the end of Peck Road.
“I would go every summer and spend time playing with my cousins in the creek. I was only 6 or 7 but remember those days fondly. My grandfather passed away before I was born so I never knew him. Grandmother had a very broken Hungarian accent and tried to teach me some Hungarian and German and I’m sorry to say I only remember a couple words. She passed away before I turned 15.
“Thank you for bringing back good memories on Peck Road.”
A rough start to summer
Former Akron schoolteacher Chuck Insalago, a 1962 North High graduate, said the Peck Road article conjured up memories he hadn’t thought about in years. That includes a frightening incident that took place in 1959 as he walked home from Jennings Junior High School on the last day of classes.
“It was a beautiful day, and my thoughts were filled with excitement about starting football practice and dreams of being on the first team in 10th grade,” Insalago recounted. “I had just reached the corner of Dayton Street and Cuyahoga Falls Avenue when a car full of guys pulled up next to me, opened the door, and the next thing I knew, I was on my way to Peck Road to be initiated into 10th grade.
“If you hung out at Isaly’s, DeHart’s Drug Store, or the corner of Berwin Street and Cuyahoga Falls Avenue, you were fair game for this rite of passage. Guilty.
“We reached Peck Road, and several other cars were already there with a few other guys they snagged along the way to join me. We were stripped down to jeans, Levi’s of course, lined up across the road, and the fun began. Several upperclassmen sat on the hoods and fenders of cars, switches in hand, and we were instructed to start running.
“I can’t remember which was louder, the roar of the glasspack mufflers or the taunting. What seemed to last forever was, in reality, only about 10 minutes. Suddenly, the kid next to me dropped to the ground and was struggling to catch his breath. The whole mood changed immediately, and fear was written on everyone’s faces.
“Fortunately, after drinking some water and catching his breath, he was able to recover and the event ended without a tragedy occurring. This was the last hazing event I remember ever taking place again. That was the beginning of my summer, 1959.
“After graduation from Akron University, I returned to North in 1969 as a teacher and a coach. It truly was the highlight of my 35-year career. I was in my element, and working with the same teachers, now colleagues, who were still influencing my growth and development. I felt truly blessed. To this day, I reminisce about those days with a smile on my face and a warm feeling in my heart.”
‘Our great little oasis’
Dennis Moncrief, 68, a Cuyahoga Falls resident who describes himself as “forever a North Hill kid,” appreciated the unexpected journey back to Peck Road. His memories include cars and cheap beer.
“Old Dutch and Weidemann were about 2 bucks for a 12-pack back in the mid to late 1970s,” Moncrief recalled. “I viewed Peck Road as our great little oasis. A friend that lived nearby on Carlyle Street knew the Schutte family that lived about halfway back towards the river. We spent a lot of time back by there, and rarely encountered anyone other than friends and acquaintances.
“And, if we did, it just seemed to widen our circle of friends sometimes. No matter the time of day, it was always a good time; a trunk lid open on someone’s car, listening to music on the car stereo as we hung out enjoying what we viewed as the North Hill version of paradise.
“Looking back, I feel fortunate to have grown up in the era we did. The experiences were truly lightning in a bottle!”
Mark J. Price can be reached at mprice@thebeaconjournal.com
This article originally appeared on Akron Beacon Journal: Clay Mountain! Readers take a trip down Peck Road | Local history
Reporting by Mark J. Price, Akron Beacon Journal / Akron Beacon Journal
USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
By Mark J. Price, Akron Beacon Journal | USA TODAY Network
