My Brooklyn (361)

Roni Mellon

My Brooklyn memories are in the Bay Ridge section. I remember Coney Island, the bikepath along the Parkway. The Staten Island Ferry that I rode as a kid just to wave to the Statue of Liberty. Roller skating on the street all day and playing "ringaliveo" at night. Egg cremes at the corner candy store. The fire escape was our air-conditioner on a hot summer night. Everyone in the apartment house left their doors open and no one thought it would get robbed, and they never were. Smells of all kinds of ethnic cooking in the hallways told you who lived in what apartment. We sat on the stoop in the evening and listened to the older people tell stories and they sang songs and we sang with them. I went to Fort Hamilton High School and sometimes day-dreamed out the window from my class because the sun on the Narrows sparkled and distracted me. I remember Owl's Head Park and Leif Erickson Park where they had Norwegian Day Parades and made wonderful floats that looked like Viking ships and everyone was dressed in yellow rainslickers and hats to make believe they were out at sea in the storms. I remember Brooklyn, where my roots began.

29 June 2001

Anon.

Flatbush Memories

How could anyone forget the atmosphere of one's block. The extended family that watched over myself and my friends. The vendors who came around selling fruit, sharpening knives, selling ice cream and Chinese food. Playing skelly, ring a levio, tag, Johnny on the pony. Thriller theater, bowling at Gill Hodges. Dating a girl from Bishop School or McCauleys. Summers away from the neighborhood. Upstate or taking a road trip. Filling bottle caps with wax for weight. Sex was a kiss . . . drugs were almost nonexistent . . . drinking was beer . . . and life moved at a much slower pace. Sounds like I'm talking about the '30s or '40s. It is actually the '60s and '70s. Spending the teen years going to discos or clubs . . . cruisin' down Rapl or Flatlands Ave. . . . If you wanted to go far, you would cruise Flatbush. Wondering why some of your friends' houses in Canarsie are below the sidewalks (still wonder about that).

The clubs on the local streets, you would always wonder what went on in there. . . . Schools and friends you made there. . . . The police cruised and let you know when you were getting out of line. . . . Black and white TV and getting a color set. . . . Everyone on the block made roughly the same yearly salary . . . and drove the same models of cars. Two slices of pizza and a Coke by P.S. 208 costs 75 cents . . . gas was a dollar a gallon for high test. . . . Going off to college meant Kingsborough or Brooklyn College. Kingsborough consisted of a log cabin for the office, a temp tent for the gym, and a great place to learn have fun and go sailing. . . . I remember when a neighborhood mourned when Sledge the local was cop was killed in the line of duty. It was a first. I could fill pages with good, great, and less than great memories.

1 July 2001