Ivan S.
Yelp
When cutting through Cabbagetown (because trying to maneuver two way traffic on a street that's essentially the width of a sidewalk is SO convenient I regularly subject myself to it), I pass by Esther Peachy LeFevre. Up until fairly recently, I only knew it as the park with the coolest name EVER.
Esther. Peachy. LeFevre. Each one of those names rule. In combination, she sounds like a character from a Walter Mosley novel, all long legs, smoldering eyes and a voice that dripped of sex and cigarette smoke. In reality, I have no idea of Esther Peachy LeFevre is, but the image the name evokes sticks. She could have the brains of Sarah Palin and the sex appeal of Bea Arthur. It doesn't matter. The Esther Peachy LeFevre in my head is luring private dicks to their doom with merely a look and a hair toss.
So when yelper Vanessa T. asked for an intown park, somewhat out of the way, but easy to find if you looked for it, a park to host a wholesome, yet semi-questionable activity, multiple people piped up with "Esther Peachy Lefevre." And so it was. Since that fateful day, I've stopped by again, during Chomp and Stomp and found it hosting a stage and a gaggle of music/chili lovers.
It's obvious that this park gets much love from the neighborhood. Why shouldn't it? It's a little patch of green in Cabbagetown. It's got a pavilion for picnickers and a cool, modern playset for the little ones (I include Vanessa in that statement.) Sure it's nothing fancy, but it's a neighborhood park; it's not Disneyland. And that name, oh that name.