This harsh New York winter is ignoring the calendar. It’s the thing that wouldn’t leave. But we had pretty snowfalls. During each storm, and thereafter, I visited Prospect Park, Central Park, Carl Schurz Park and rambled through my Yorkville neighborhood. Here are a few photos of NYC in snow and four links to photograph albums for… Read more »
Dad and I did four things together: play sports, attend sports, watch TV, and go to the movies. I liked movies the best; it’s much harder telling a kid what to do in the dark. You would have loved taking me to the movies when I was 6 years old. I was a cheap date,… Read more »
Preparations for a perfect summer day required a delicate dance Yesterday, I strolled through Central Park. Resting on a bench in front of the Delacorte Theater, I turned my eyes to the center of the Great Lawn. I saw myself lying face up on the grass at 9 years old, throwing a ball up… Read more »
This has been the coolest New York City summer in my memory. One of the hottest summers I remember is 1961. Each scorcher my brother and I tortured our parents for relief from the heat. Deep into August that year, in the middle of Central Park they gave up. Here’s the story as it appeared… Read more »
Over the Fourth of July weekend, I stayed put in NYC. I love when New York empties for a holiday. As a kid, instead of being sad because I was stuck “in the city,” I found good things that resulted from us not “getting out of town.” Dad didn’t own a car, our vacations were… Read more »
June 20, 1957, on my brother Rory’s first birthday we moved into apartment #4R at 517 East 83rd Street. Mom let Rory and me run straight into the apartment before my aunts and uncles brought the furniture up. I dragged my brother by his arm. At the window was a fire escape with a nest… Read more »
June 1959, on a lazy Saturday morning, Mom said, “time for a paint party.” She got on the phone, and an hour later, her mother and her two sisters, Joan and Barbara, showed up at our 517 East 83rd Street apartment with four gallons of Benjamin Moore, two six packs of Schaefer and three soft… Read more »
“Get that out of your mouth.” The nun demanded. “Wha?” said the kid. “The candy.” With lots of lisping,”It’ssss not candy, it’ssss a cough drop.” The nun with pointing directions only made the boy take out a hanky and drop the drop into the snot rag. “No candy in class!” “It’sssss not candy!” The nun… Read more »
When I was young, I connected with a few mothers of my friends. Sweet Mrs. Muller gave me Sloppy Joe Sandwiches, Funny and sarcastic Mrs. McMahon gave me my own half gallon of 4C Ice Tea on hot afternoons, and the intelligent and elegant Mrs. Peters (unknowingly for a short time) gave us space for… Read more »
The week after Thanksgiving 1959, my mother left my brother, Rory, off at my grandparents on York Avenue and picked me up at P.S. 77 after kindergarten dismissal. Together we walked over to the 86thStreet cross-town bus just pulling up to the corner. Mom dropped a Mercury dime (I loved coins my grandmother and father… Read more »
