One of the best things about growing up in the city neighborhoods of old was that people shared common dreams and often, a common heritage. In my old neighborhood in Brooklyn, most of us were descended from immigrants, not just Italians, but Irish, German and Polish. We grew up with our relatives all around us. The neighborhood stores catered to ethnic tastes; we had Italian salumerias on every other corner with sawdust on the floor and cheeses and salamis hanging from the ceiling. Olives, dried figs and pickles were sold by the pound out of big barrels. Fresh baked Italian bread was there every day along with an assortment of cold cuts and salads. Italian bakeries specialized in pastries, but if you wanted cake, the German bakeries had an edge. Older women in hairnets would wait on you, and the smell of baking that hit you when you opened the door was enough to make your mouth water. There were butcher shops that would cut your meat any way you wanted. Milk was delivered to your door in bottles every morning, and there were local soda companies that also delivered every week by the case. Men in trucks came around to sharpen scissors, or deliver coal or ice. The insurance man came every week to collect the 25 cent premium on life insurance policies. Even doctors actually made house calls. Churches and schools were in the neighborhood, and in the days before busing, we used our legs to walk to class. There were no play dates or afterschool programs; you just came outside when you finished your homework and there were always street games to be played. On summer nights every sat on the stoop in the days before air conditioning. Men played cards, women chatted about the day’s events, and kids waited impatiently for the ice cream truck. We went to local movie houses to cool off, and a lot of the china closets in our apartments were filled courtesy of dish night at the movies. We lacked all the modern conveniences we know today, but I can’t imagine a happier childhood. If it were possible to recreate it for my kids and grandkids, I wouldn’t hesitate for a single minute.
Posted on: Wed, 24 Sep 2014 15:05:28 +0000
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