Readers Report
Linda Schiavo Garcia continues . . .
I really enjoy this site so much and check it often. Recently I've been in touch with old school friends from Clara Barton V.H.S. on Classen Ave. We are trying to find as many graduates from the class of 1962 as we can , so we can have a 40th reunion in 2002!
If anybody out there knows any girls from Clara Barton, tell them about this site and ask them to e-mail me. We are scattered all over the country, so it will probably take the better part of the coming two years to get it together. I appreciate all your help! I know we Brooklynites can do it.
Keep the stories coming, It feels like Home when I read them.
My Brooklyn is the one of my childhood, that of lemon ices in paper cups and afternoon trips to Coney Island with my grandpa. My Brooklyn is aromatic, like the fragrant Italian feasts my grandmother would slave to prepare for the family. Most often, the smell wafted down the block and pretty soon, the neighbors would drop in. My grandma always gave them a dish of something hot and delicious to take back home. I remember the Italian cookies from Caputo's bakery and how the pizza pies were enormous—not like the pizza we have here in Wisconsin where I now live. My Brooklyn had real Chinese food, the best, and the convent school I attended for eight years. I haven't been to Brooklyn since 1989, when my beloved grandfather died, but it will always be my home—because it's where my heart is. . . .
I always loved trains, trolleys ,and subways. As a young kid growing up on Union St. between ENY and Sutter Aves. it was about a half-hour walk to Pitkin and Van Sinderen Aves., where you could watch the Canarsie El with the Fulton El curving over it down Pitkin and the Bay Ridge Branch with heavy electric locomotives down below in a cut. I could stand there and watch the trains for hours. The Church Ave. trolley was still running as were the trackless trolleys on St. John's Place. Brownsville and East New York were great neighborhoods in the fifties or at least it seems that way over forty years later. In 1953 I went to the City-run day camp at Franklin K. Lane H.S. I had a crush on Miss Teresa, one of the counselors. We had a great time growing up without video games or computers. We had stickball, ringolevio and other games, and we made scooters out of old skates and fruit crates.
Readers' reports continue . . .
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