Tag Archives: Brooklyn

Monday’s Laundry

How white the Monday laundry against a bright blue sky of summer hung from a clothesline stretching from a third floor window to the telephone pole watching grandma hang the clothes my feet pushing on the treadle while sitting at … Continue reading

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Poppa Was a Union Man – a Re-post for Father’s Day

Mom and dad in front of our little bungalow, circa 1957.  The teenage ghost behind the glass is me. My father was a union man; a member in good standing of the International Hod Carriers, Building and Common Laborers Union … Continue reading

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Reds – For May Day

Fine red cloth covering an altar in a corner of grandma’s room away from the window Old Italian woman wife and mother did you ever miss the tall windows of Naples in high Summer? Moonlight never shined o’er her bed … Continue reading

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The Asmara Con

The bridle path at Prospect Park  I learned to ride a horse in Brooklyn. As a teen in the ‘50s I would ride regularly in Prospect Park or Gerritsen Beach renting horses from local stables for a couple of hours.  … Continue reading

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Reds

Fine red cloth covering an altar in a corner of grandma’s room away from the window Old Italian woman wife and mother did you ever miss the tall windows of Naples in high Summer? Moonlight never shined o’er her bed … Continue reading

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Our Fabulous Christmas Wedding!

An annual December repost  St. Bernadette’s R. C. Church, Brooklyn ….so I had just turned 21 and in basic training at Ft. Dix N. J. and she was 18, fresh out of high school the previous June  (I took her to her … Continue reading

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It’s Carlo Buti’s Birthday!

Carlo Buti – 11/14/02 – 11/16/63 Several years ago I received an email from my brother-in-law, who is several years older than me. “Remember tomorrow is Carlo Buti’s birthday!  Proper celebrations should be made!” My reply was “How the hell do you know that?”.  … Continue reading

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White Sands

before It wasn’t called White Sands even by those who lived there on dirt streets that dead ended north side of the creek. Houses where the eldest son never had his own room only a Castro Convertible to dream his … Continue reading

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An Altar Boy of the Tridentine Mass

Introibo ad altare Dei I will go in unto the Altar of God.   As a boy in the early 1950s I was an altar boy – of the Tridentine Mass.   Yes, now they are referred to as alcolytes but in … Continue reading

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