Readers Report
1010 President Street also! For 14 years. I remember standing on the lamppost waiting for the Good Humor truck in the summer. And when we would see it on the next block, calling up from the street for 25 cents. My mother or father would throw it down wrapped in a tissue. It would always land on the grass in front of the building, and I'd have to climb into the dirt to get it! But that chocolate sundae was delicious! I remember Normandie bakery on Franklin Avenue—with Topps Bakery right across the street. You went to Normandie for breads and Topps for cake and cookies. I remember Honey's Toy Store and how crowded it was on the first day of school. I remember buying a package of wooden nickels there and giving it my father who always said "Don't pick up any wooded nickels."And I remember going to Garcia Vega every Monday in the summertime with my parents for a Broadway soda—chocolate soda with coffee ice cream. My father delivered the Daily News on Franklin Avenue and in the summertime he used to give me and my friends rides in the truck. As I remember these President Street memories my heart is smiling. Life was carefree, simple and sweet.
Snyder Avenue, 305 Linden Boulevard, Holy Cross, P.A.L., Parkside Avenue, Church & 34th Street. During's, Discount City, Flatbush Avenue shopping, the opening day at King's Plaza, St. Edmund's, Harico's, the Granada, the Rialto, Macy's, Sears and Jeffrey's bakery. I am lucky to have kept in touch with so many friends. I have I would love to hear from Mr. Armstrong, Mr. Boss, Mr. Conroy and some old friends: Cheryl Howell, Barbara Barbella, Gregory Cole, Ann Danaher, Ellen Blackhall, Joey Spence, and anyone who was there between 1957 and 1976. I would love to hear from everyone.
GO BROOKLYN!
My Brooklyn was Boro Park in the '40s and '50s. Playing stick ball, punchball, and stoop ball on 39th Street between 15 and 16 Avenues with the boys—Gary, Sheldon, Eddie, Murray, Henry. It was eating Charlotte Russe on 13th Avenue with my mom. It was riding the old open trains to Coney Island and smelling that certain tar smell as we got close to the beach. It was Brighton Beach and Bay 8 in the Summer. It was Nathan's hot dogs and grape soda. It was the deli on the corner of 15th Ave. and 40th Street and the owner who always pinched my cheek. It was meeting my friend Maita Post and riding our bicycles down to Coney Island along Ocean Parkway to play hand ball. It was hanging out on the corner of 14th Ave. and 49th and going to the Y.M.H.A to dance and watch the Knights play basketball. It was going to the Kensington branch library under the "el" in the Winter. It was living across the street from my grandparents and my aunt and uncle. It was the neighborhood where everyone lived upstairs or downstairs from their grandparents. I try to explain to people who grew up in small towns that Brooklyn was like that too. Your small town was your block. You knew everyone on the block. Everyone knew who you were. You were able to play out in the "gutter," sat on running boards while waiting your turn for stick ball. It brings tears to my eyes to think about those sweet, sweet years.
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