My Brooklyn (265)

Anon.

Standing all alone on a crisp, snowy evening by the Belt Parkway on Shore Parkway thinking about the eerily noisy silence of the fresh falling snow. So white and fluffy, innocent and pure, feeling like little needles hitting my face as I try to catch each one on my tongue. Cars whizzing by, I think to myself, "Where are they all going this late at night?" Are they arguing, or happy? The air smells so fresh, troubles run off your shoulder as you hear in the distance "Hey Vinnie, seen Rocco?" Then someone hangs out their window and yells, "Joey, get your ass in here, right now!," and the response of "Yeah ma, I'm commin—Geez!" Where else on earth is there such a place? We all sat outside many an evening and listened to families yelling at each other, screams of delight, happiness, weddings, graduations, etc. We all knew each other and each other's business. It was like one big family all living together in a borough that existed only to us in our minds. There was no other place! You mean you don't come from Brooklyn? Wow, that's scary. . . . For me at least, there was P.S. 163—who can forget standing on line in the schoolyard waiting for the bell to ring and feeling scared and wanting to go back home, Dyker Heights J.H.S., not getting along with your science teacher whom you regarded as "Baldy the Bean", Lafayette H.S., finding your own funky click to hang out with on the school steps and with whom to cut class to go to Greenwich Village and be with all the cool people! 86th Street and the B train. Dolinsky's pharmacy on Bath Avenue, Clothes Horse, Hy Tulip, Jahn's, Century's and White Castle hamburgers . . . I must have eaten nine at a time! Of course Coney Island and the wonderful smell of Nathan's, the feel of the wooden boardwalk on your bare feet in the dead of summer and the infamous Cyclone, which inevitably would have my legs wobbling when I got down, and swore "never again."

14 June 2000

Jane Kimball

Moved to L.I. after graduating Bushwick H.S. in 1956. Now live in Virginia. My Brooklyn was Central Ave., between Cornelia and Jefferson. Remember the Grove theater and just about spending the whole Saturday afternoon there for twenty five cents. Lived next to the butcher shop on the corner of Cornelia St. and across from Marullo's Italian delicatessen and Restivo's bakery. No one had air conditioning and the mothers used to sit outside talking and watching the kids during the day. Remember Gussie's candy store where we could trade old comic books for newer ones and seeing Julius LaRosa over at the Italian Funeral Home one time. Mr. Sift had a TV repair store and kept tropical fish we could go in and watch. Would like to find a good friend I had back in Girl Scouts at the Irving Square Presbyterian Church. Her name is Linda Peterson.

15 June 2000