HAVING SPENT part of my childhood in the West End, in the 1930s, I can’t relate to the modern monstrosities that exist there now (“A fix for the West End,’’ Op-ed, Jan. 21). What I relate to is the community that existed and is no more.
I could look out my window at the corner of Poplar and Auburn streets and see the Esplanade a block away. The Peabody House that provided classes and many opportunities for adults and children was around the corner. It was still possible to swim in the Charles and roller skate safely along its banks. In the summer the Boston Pops gave free concerts every night for six weeks. I went to the same elementary school my mother had gone to.
I’m glad for my memories, and sad that they are now in the dustbin of history.