Comments on Ghost of South Philly: Moyamensing Prison I read a post in Philly BLOG ...

I remember my aunt Rosie who lived behind Moyemens...

2008-11-24T23:45:00.000-05:00

I remember my aunt Rosie who lived behind Moyemensing prison and there was a man who escaped and ran through her house on Garret St.
I remember lots of neat memories of living in Philly. I don't live there anymore but I think its a great city.

Gearest Cugino, I have told this story to you I kn...

2006-03-29T06:14:00.000-05:00

Gearest Cugino,
I have told this story to you I know. But I have such memeories of playing in the prison parking lot , which when I think about it was not all that big for what an imposing structure it really was.
My fathers twin sister , had a house at 12th and Dickinson, and I lived at 6th and Titan Streets.
This house was the center of our family for many many years , it was one of those places that when ever you think of people who are long dead, or events that took place , always seemed to be in that house.
I was an only child , not that I ever knew what that meant , as I had so many cousins, you amongst them , that I was hardley ever ..alone. One cousin who was a year older than me , Dennis, my fathers twin sister's son, was the brother that I did not have , so we were always together.Well in order for us to connect so that we could run wild in the streets of Philadelphia, one of us had to travel the distance of these blocks between our houses, 2 miles if that. The end of this journey brought us together so we could play all the street games children did in those days. And what made this more fun for both of us was the fact that we had two sets of friends . The kids from my neighborhood and those from his.
After a long day of Hide n Seek or stick ball, or chink, we would head home to one of our houses together , now depending on which friends we choose that day , it usually meant crossing into the prison parking lot as a shortcut.
We did this often enough as to have that facade burnt into my memory and how impossing and majestic it was. Because I was always looking up hoping to see"the prisoners" I had heard so much about . One day as we walked through , close to the date when this castle would be closing to reform forever, we heard shouts from above. We stopped in our tracks and there in a window behind wrought iron bars was a man looking down at us. We stood transfixed "my god a prisoner"we said. "Listen" we shouted to each other , "he's talking to us".Indeed he was, shouting something we could not make out, but he began throwing rocks down at us , and we started running , running and laughing ducking the pieces of stones which made up his window sill we supposed. That was the last time I ever crossed into the prison lot to use it as a shortcut. Soon after they moved all the prisoners, and soon after that it came tumbling down to make way for the brand new Acme, CVS, and bank. I don't go back there much anymore , the house at 12th and Dickinson has long ago stopped pumping out its memories for us. But the times I am in the vicinity, as I pass by that supermarket, I catch a glimpse of a formidable stone structure surrounded by a high black iron fence. But its just my mind playing tricks on me , and taking no chances I hurry past .

I followed the link to Fantes and enjoyed reading ...

2006-03-12T23:55:00.000-05:00

I followed the link to Fantes and enjoyed reading about the prison.

There's more about the Passmore Williamson case (he was held for contempt of court for not revealing the whereabouts of some fugitive slaves whose whereabouts he didn't know!) at

http://www.librarycompany.org/janejohnson/

Hi Frank, I remeber the prision so clearly! I love...

2006-03-06T10:14:00.000-05:00

Hi Frank,

I remeber the prision so clearly! I loved it, I thought it was the coolest thing ever! My grandmother had great prision stories, of how when she was a kid, on hot nights, they would sleep out front(imagine) and they would listen to the inmates yelling in the dark. She also told a story of one hot summer day, when the doors were open, an escapee ran right threw her house and over the back fence and the guards followed. I also remember the tour of the prision, and the day it was knocked down. She had a million stories, I wish i had written them down. I found some great old pictures for you, I am going to scan them and e-mail them to you. You will really like them. Also, remeber the Cappio's and the Masatendas,(i'm sure you do)I can remember sitting at the kitchen table with my grandmother, your mom, Aunt Sim(Clara),Rosie Cappio and Mary Masatenda. I can still see their faces. I loved being there, I think I thought they were MY friends. Your blog has sparked so many wonderful memories!!!!

Dear Natalie,Thanks and Hi to all the family.. You...

2006-03-03T19:11:00.000-05:00

Dear Natalie,
Thanks and Hi to all the family.. You know I do remember that the old Bond Bread is now a CVS and has been once sine the late 90’s. You see cause I don’t live in Philly and have not been there since 2002 , I tend to remember it as a snapshot circa 1990.. Interesting you know Roberta, she was my best best friend when I was a kid. There were few kids on my block of Dickinson and Roberta was the only one and happily she came over almost every weekend. There was another little girl named Cindy who live next door for a few years in the apartments at 1012 then left. Had my father stayed on Gerritt street at least I would have had kids to play with. Are you still in SP?

Frank

Hello again Frank. Yes, I remembered that you wen...

2006-03-03T11:17:00.000-05:00

Hello again Frank. Yes, I remembered that you went to Annunciation with my sister, Cheryl. I'll have to tell her about this coincidence. Aunt Nina was happy to reminisce reading your blog! The connections between Roberta Ficarra and I are another epic all-together, making for an uncanny couple of days. I really enjoy the stories, so I'll be a regular on your site. Also, just to let you know -- Pep Boys has been replaced by a very busy, 24-hour CVS where the old "Ac-a-me" stood. And I have very vivid memories of riding my bike past the "prison."