What’s in a Name?
French is the second red brick street I have walked down in the last week (Fischer was the other). There is something nostalgic and romantic about the red bricks. I loved hearing the hum of rubber tires from cars rolling down the street this morning.
It got me wondering how long these bricks have been in place. I was talking to a friend of mine (Vincent O’Keefe) this week and he mentioned there are interesting stories regarding the names of many streets in Lakewood. He sent me some info on French, and according to Margaret Manor Butler in Romance in Lakewood Streets, “French Avenue was named for Collins French, son of one of our early settlers” (See the Special Thanks page for additional details).
It’s crazy to think of little Collins French playing on this street back in the 1800s. Much of Lakewood was settled in the late 1800s and early 1900s before automobiles existed. Instead of the hum of rubber tires the residents of French would have been hearing the clopping of horse hooves and the rolling of wooden buggy tires on these red bricks.
My walk down French ended at the railroad tracks. It was there that I discovered a blooming oasis. Someone had planted an incredible diversity of bulbs between the end of this street (and several in each direction) and the railroad tracks. I was thankful to have stumbled onto this flower garden and appreciate whoever took the time to plant all of those bulbs.
