My Brooklyn (272)

Terry (Theresa Cassidy) Abbott

Just popping back in again to see if anyone out there is from the old neighborhood of Spencer Court. Or anyone who went to St. Patick's School on Kent Ave. That was my Brooklyn in the 40s until 1952. I treasure my Brooklyn childhood memories. What a great and safe neighborhood. Our mothers never had to worry about us playing out in the street then. I wonder if Spencer Tavern is still on the corner of Spencer Ct. and DeKalb? My father used to stop in every night after work and I would go in and sit with him. Imagine—memories of a bar are among my favorites. I've read all the messages so far and found nobody from Spencer Court. Maybe someone will find their way to this site. Thank you, David, for providing it. Terry.

8 July 2000

Bruce Baron

My Brooklyn was East Flatbush. I lived on Rutland Road between Kingston and Albany Aves. We lived right across from Kings County Hospital. Our life then was street sports: punchball, stickball, roller skating, etc. I remember trolleys on Church Ave., the electric buses that came down Kinston Ave from Tompkins Ave., and every so often the driver would have to get out of the bus and reattach the poles on top of the bus that connected to the overhead power wires that resulted from making a turn too wide. The candy stores were like our meccas. We had two or three. The most notable was the one at the corner of Albany and Rutland. It was owned by two refugees from WWII concentration camps named Morris and Max. They purchased the store from the previous owner, Eddie. Well, I got off on the wrong foot with these guys when they opened for the first day under their management. It was hot steamy day and the place was filled with kids checking out the new owners (this was a big deal back then). I ordered my traditional ice cream cone from one of the partners wives who was working on opening day. She handed me an ice cream cone with one scoop, I quickly replied "Hey, the other guy used to give 2 scoops"—of course he didn't but I wanted to see if I could get away with it. The wife not being too familar with "store policy" proceeded to add an additional scoop to my cone, when all of a sudden her husband Max yelled out, "Ve only give von scoop on a cone" and he said I was a "gangster" for that move I made to get an extra scoop. He called me gangster for quite some time. As the years passed we became friendly and I realized how hard those two worked to make the American dream come true. My hat is off to Morris and Max, wherever you guys are. Thanks for the memories. Believe me I have many.

9 July 2000