MEMORIES OF BENNINGTON PARK: EVEN THOUGH THE SONG STOPPED PLAYING, THE MUSIC NEVER DIED! Years ago the cold hand of corporate planners and the icey heart of Machiavellian business opportunists joined forces to raze a functioning, vibrant Freeport, Long Island community. Homes and businesses that contained memories were ground to earth and in their place rose cold, unfeeling steel and brick structures that had no thought. Urban renewal was the hound that the corporations released. It was a terrorist strike at a people whose only crime was that where they lived, worked, played, llved, raised children and worshipped was in the line-of-sight of some projectionists 10 year plan! They steamrolled their agenda through like an NFL fullback charging into a defensive line of pigtailed girl scouts with baskets of cookies. Bennington park didnt have a chance. In this battle Goliath was the clear winner. We understand that this stuff is done all the time--it is the way of industry and how business is conducted. Heart and compassion arent likely to be factored against the bottom line of profit and business growth. Its cold and soulless, and sheds not a tear at the prospect of causing misery and dispair. Lets be very clear about something: when people are suddenly forced to uproot and relocate they experience a special kind of trauma. You are separated from the area and land to which you feel connected and to all that you identify. There is a reason why the terms mother earth and native soil are mentioned and held in such reverence. The smells, sights, sounds, visual associations combine with archival memory to align with a spiritual centering that connects us to the land which contributes greatly to our sense of identity. There arent many things more horrible than forced removal. We know all to well of the plights of Africans, Jews and Native Americans. Urban renewal is the same practice on a much smaller scale, whose impact is still devestating, and with the carrot of an improved condition as a consolation prize. If you are happy where you are, and your community is vibrant your wish is only to be left alone. Bennington park had history...and almost anything you wanted could be found within its environs. Now it looks like an alien landscape. How many businesses can you possibly squeeze into geographical square footage without it starting to look like a forest of stucco, plaster brick and steel. And once where there was life force and spirituality there is now only intercom, inventory and indifference. After a certain time doors are locked, steel gates are rolled down and people go home. There is no love...no connection. The steel and brick monstrosities are mosoleums that are resting atop the bleached bones of row houses, candy stores, barbershops, cleaners, gas stations, quaint cottages, funeral homes, clubs, a stadium, ball fields, bars, a pool room, churches, fruit trees, repair shops, on and on---some homes privately owned and businesses run and owned by the people for the people; businesses that pumped dollars BACK into the community. When someone tells you that they are going to do you a favor even when you dont want or need it, prepare for the worst. Its like when the teacher has you over his knee and hes hoisting that paddle with all the holes in it, and he tells you that what he is about to do will hurt him more than it hurts you! Both of you know its BS. In the end you are going to be the only one feeling the pain. Last Friday we had a dance/celebration in memory of our beloved Bennington park. The turnout and support was marvelous. Some of us had formed a committe and this was our freshman effort. It was hard work but we pulled it off.We danced, sang and had an all-around festive evening. There were even some who threw down their canes to join the Soul Train line. There is nothing like the healing balm of Motown. Plaques were given in honor of elders who were staples of the community and often served as auxiliary parents, mentors, guardians, and disciplinarians when necessary. This wasnt a wake.This was about keeping a memory alive. Because death can only claim total victory when the memory of that which you loved but is no longer with you ceases. Time wants to cover things in dirt. Love of things that are dear to us implores us not to allow it. So we fight to hold onto their memory. And last Friday served a message to the gravediggers-- that our Bennington park community, though gone, will never be forgotten. We carry it within our hearts. O grave where is thy victory?
Posted on: Sun, 29 Jun 2014 13:29:31 +0000
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