TOASTED BAGEL WITH A SMEAR!

I miss those words coming from a high volume mouth of a deli owner in Lower Manhattan.

In my younger days working as an apprentice ironworker on 7 World Trade Center, I use to get the guys’ order for coffee and spend an hour in the local coffee shop directly across the street from where the Twin Towers once proudly stood. (I still can’t believe those buildings are no longer there)

Each morning, Monday through Friday at around 8:15 I would place my order (amounting close to $100) and the owner would comp my breakfast. (One hand washes the other, right?)

Deli Owner: “Steve, what are you havin’?” he’d ask with a smile on his face, in an Eastern Europe accent.

Me: Toasted bagel with cream cheese and a juice.”

Deli Owner: “TOASTED BAGEL WITH A SMEAR!” He would scream out without batting an eye.

This morning while munching on a plain toasted bagel with cream cheese and sipping some O.J., I thought back to the days of ordering a buttered roll and a light & sweet coffee at Pynn’s deli.

That was the norm for most.

I don’t recall ever getting a bagel though.

Even when you had to hop on the ‘F’ Train into Manhattan you always carried that small brown paper bag, newspaper tucked under your arm as you made your way underground.  Once seated, you pulled out the items one at a time while you sat back on the lovely IND.

The fellow commuters who skipped breakfast that morning, already seated across from you, had a tendency to stare.

One day in the early 80’s a bagel shop opened up where L&J Bakery use to be and the avenue finally had bagels.

I don’t recall the guy’s name who opened it up but a few years later it was ‘under new ownership’

Louie (from St. Rose of Lima) to this day is the proud owner of a very successful bagel shop, Terrace Bagels. Whenever I am in town I always make it a priority to have a seat in the cafe portion of the bagel shop and enjoy my bagel and newspaper. (Does Rocco still work the counter?)

Salted bagel, Cinnamon Raisin, Poppy and Sesame all have been my favorite at one time or another. I still can’t get the courage to ask for an ‘everything’ bagel.

What I notice lately in a lot of places is that they don’t put the cream cheese on the bagel for you. No, they ask you if you would like it and if you happen to say yes, (they go ahead and charge you an extra .45) they reach into a fridge and pull out a small cup of cold cream cheese.

Oh, by the way, the knives are over there - the Barista boldly points out as they direct you half-way across the cafe.

Back in the day before bagels, we would get a buttered roll and pint of O.J.

Where did we consume this nutritious breakfast? On the park bench, boys or girls schoolyard or we sat on the front hood of a car parked on the avenue.

Other times we’d squat on Jimmy Cullen’s stoop at 175 Windsor discussing the Knicks, Mets or even Yankees.

The newspaper, bagel/roll and coffee or juice - I miss those days…

-SF

Hoops135@hotmail.com

REACHING OUT

I was given a ‘heads up’ on this story in the New York Daily News by a loyal reader/contributer to Container Diaries.

“It’s a communication he doesn’t have with another child,” said John Haugh of his son. After school, young John and Buddy watch videos together. At bath time, the dog will lay his head across the tub and look longingly at his friend.

John Haugh, who lived on 16th street between 9th and 10th avenues before moving to Staten Island has a 12-year-old autistic son.

A dog has come into their life and has made things a whole lot better.

BIG UPS!

HOW IS EVERYONE FEELIN’?

The number of hits to the blog are goin’ out the window like Ray Orlando driving baseline in the schoolyard!

It’s that time of month again for me to thank all the fantastic people who not only read the blog but also check-in with a comment or two (or three)…

You can’t sit there in front of your rather expensive computer and tell me any other neighborhood in the city have people like the ‘old-school’ residents or alumnus of Windsor Terrace?  (Where in the world do you think Ronald St. George is chillin’ as we speak?)

I’ll put ‘yous’  people from Windsor Terrace up against anyone when it comes to character, work ethic, integrity, sports, intelligence, and especially overall human compassion!

Many people say that when you attend high school or even college you meet people who have an impact on the rest of your life and that you form valuable relationships with these people…

Total B.S. (I mean, maybe it’s true with a couple people but…)

It’s the relationships that were formed from ages 5-14…that make a difference.

Those are the years you get to know someone, really know someone. It’s the time when you get to know what someone is all about.  Especially when you see them 20, 25, or even 30 years later.

What’s amazing about the above statement is a former classmate at Holy Name and I haven’t spoken to each other in over 30 years - well after finding the blog they contacted me via email and we spoke on the phone recently and it feels like we never lost contact with each other.

Reach out to someone you recognize on the blog.  Call someone up you haven’t talked to in years and re-connect with that person.

I cherish my time spent on the streets of Windsor Terrace.  I’ll always remember the days and nights spent playing ball in Holy Name schoolyard.

It’s a stupendous feeling knowing full well I grew up in Windsor Terrace and made hundreds of friends and was able to experience some of the greatest memories in my ‘yet not complete’ life; memories that I will take to my grave!

BIG UPS!

-SF

hoops135@hotmail.com

HOT KNISHES

Whenever I venture to Katz’s famous delicatessen located on East Houston street in the Lower East Side of Manhattan (better known as LES), I always order the same thing: Two Knishes and two hot dogs. Plus a cream soda to wash it down.

If you are a native New Yorker, you have been to the famous Kosher-style eatery many times.

Out here in the Midwest, I can’t get a goddamn knish!

So my wonderful wife got on-line and searched out a deli in New York (Copiague to be exact) and had them deliver the knishes to us. We ordered a ton!

Thank heavens for Gabila’s out on the island! What a fine selection they have. Here is their website if you would like to order them.

I haven’t stopped eating them since they arrived. (Thank God I workout!)

Many people reading this blog have no idea what a knish is - pity those poor souls, they don’t know what they’re missing.

Here you go in a nutshell…A knish is a snack that is very popular in the jewish community (but not limited because the Irish and Italians eat ‘em too). It’s fried dough filled with mashed potato. When cooked, you would slice it open and pour brown mustard on top of it. (My mouth is watering and I’m staring over my right shoulder at the freezer)

Many hot dog stands’ in Manhattan carry them. I’m sure the supermarkets also have them in stock.

I recall the days as a youngster lying out on the hot dry sand at Brighton Beach and there was that guy who always walked around carrying brown bags in both hands with handles shouting, “HOT KNISHES, ICE COLD SODAS…HOT KNISHES ICE COLD SODAS!”

The dude had to be melting! He had long pants, black shoes and socks! Plus he was lugging a few bags.

When she felt like we deserved them, my mom would splurge and buy us one each but most times we brown-bagged it. I didn’t like eating them on the beach because pebbles of sand always found their way on the knish.

In my late teens and early 20’s I would travel on my mountain bike down to play basketball at Manhattan Beach with guys like Glenn, Turk and Jackie Ryan.  After running for a few hours we would head over to a deli in Brighton Beach and grab a couple of knishes and wash it down with a forty-ounce!

A knish with mustard, there’s nothing like it and thank God for UPS and Fed-Ex!

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY

I wanted to send out a very warm, Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms who read Container Diaries and a special mother’s day wish to my mom, Carol Corbett.

FULLER PLACE

As I continue my memorable journey through the neighborhood, looking back on all the wonderful families and the streets they lived on,  an intriguing thought crossed my mind:

Do teens still hang out on the corner anymore?

A few days ago I wrote about Howard Place; today I will give you my thoughts on the block which was right around the corner from Howard, Fuller Place.

I spent a lot of time on Fuller Place, mainly because I had loving cousins who happened to live there, the Sabbagh’s.

Brian, Lori, Nu-Nu (RIP), Liz, Susan, Joe (RIP), Mark and Chris. Their parents, Sheila and Joe are both deceased.

I use to love going over to their house. My uncle Joe was a hard-working, funny dude and my aunt Sheila was warm, kind and very caring. I always felt at home at 29 Fuller.

One day I was on Fuller Place and it must of been close to ninety-degrees outside. We were all just sitting on someone’s stoop hanging out with the kids on the block and nature began to call. For some reason, (actually I had respect for their residence and the notion of ringing the doorbell before entering always crossed my mind) I always rang my cousins doorbell before entering their house and this time I was greeted at the door by my Aunt Sheila. I calmly asked her if I could use their bathroom. ‘Why of course, come in’, she answered.

I quickly sprinted past her and raced up the stairs to their restroom which was located on the second floor.

After I’m sure what seemed like forever, as I made my way back down the wooden, creaky staircase, my Uncle Joe was sitting at the dining room table with a huge plate of hot food in front of him. As I past him he blurted out with a mouth full of food mind you, ‘All you ever do is come in here to take a dump!’

I flashed an embarrassing smile at him for a quick second and without replying exited the house.

It was there at the Sabbagh’s where I was first introduced to ‘Syrian Bread‘, a middle eastern style flat bread that you can serve with lunch or dinner. I recall putting everything from ham and cheese with mustard to peanut butter and jelly on it. (Uncle Joe being of Syrian decent)

(Thanks to http://www.flickr.com/photos/redxdressfor photo)

I remember playing stickball with the Rooney’s (Jamie and Timmy), Caputo’s and Dilgen’s. Next door to my cousins was Kenny and Jimmy Rallis who were great people. I recall Jimmy going for ‘runs’ all the time. He would walk out of his house, lace up his running shoes, check his wristwatch and take off.

The dude would be gone for what seemed like hours.

While playing stickball, if you hit the ball all the way to Prospect avenue, you were a stud! Not sure if I ever got it that far?

Someone once said on the Container Diaries message board about Fuller Place:

Fuller Place was like living in a country club. It was a side street so there was hardly any traffic and the street and sidewalk were immaculate because we all kept it that way. We even at one point painted in a tennis court on the street. What a beautiful place to grow up.

It had to be Mr. O’Boyle, the father of Joe O’Boyle (who was a pretty good basketball player) that painted the tennis court on the street? (I think his older brother was a stud tennis player?)

We played football, whiffle ball, kick-the-can, red-light/green light, had relay races in the street and played slap-ball from dawn to dusk; and sometimes later.

Tom Cuite, a city councilman lived on the block and I always recall seeing a black Lincoln Town Car coming to pick him up and drop him off.

Thomas J. Cuite (1913-1987), a Windsor Terrace resident, was vice-chairman and majority leader of the New York City Council–a position similar to the current role of Speaker–for 16 years, until his retirement in 1985. A democrat, Cuite had previously served in the New York State Senate. He was a co-founder and first Grand Marshal of the Irish-American Parade, and a member of the Knights of Columbus. He was a tireless worker for his community and greatly appreciated by his constituents–many of whom can thank Cuite for their first summer jobs. (http://www.windsorterracebrooklyn.com/WTwhowaswho.html)

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention playing ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven‘ when I was like 13 years old. Fuller Place was the street where I first kissed a female.

Like Howard Place, the homes on Fuller Place had those couple of steps that led down to the basement and they were perfect for us youngsters to hang out on - especially at the homes where we knew the folks were gone for the weekend.

The actress Geena Davis filmed the opening of her movie Angie on Fuller Place.

Only The Blog Knows Brooklyn, sent out a message last year asking residents of Fuller Place if they wanted to appear in a documentary on Fuller Place being one of the ‘Greenest Blocks in Brooklyn”

Respectfully,

SF

hoops135@hotmail.com

GREED SUCKS!

I knew there was a reason why I never picked up a golf club or even set foot on a course in my 43 years on earth.

Thanks to Container Diaries contributer Jimmy V, I have learned of a disturbing situation involving our parish and a golf course, Dyker Beach Golf Course. Denis Hamill of the New York Daily News wrote about it last week in his column.

“And every year for the past 13 years on the first Thursday of June we’ve held a golf outing at Dyker in honor of Eddie Farrell, who used to own Farrell’s,” says Houlie. “The Boy ScoutsBreezy Point pitch and putt because Dyker got greedy with our little religious charity.” volunteer to cook and clean up at a barbecue in the schoolyard after the golf outing. The proceeds, around $15,000, go to Holy Name. This year, the Dyker Golf people priced us right off the course. For the first time, we’re forced to leave Brooklyn and go to Breezy Point pitch and putt because Dyker got greedy with our little religious charity.”

So much for human compassion huh?

THE HUNS!

I have been informed that there will be a social/reunion on Saturday, May 24th at 7:00 PM for all members (or former members) of ‘The Huns’.

The special occasion will take place at where else, but Farrell’s Bar and Grill.

Now, this group was well before my time and the only thing I actually recall is that someone spray-painted THE HUNS, on the wall in P.S. 154. (Wonder if anyone will fess up to that one?)

Kathy G has informed me that ‘Anyone and everyone is invited‘. (Did that offer stand when members of The Huns were being selected back in the day?)

Was their an initiation to gain membership?

How about someone send me a ‘guest blog’ via email on the history of the Huns and some of it’s noble members. I would love to post it on the front page.

Respectfully,

SF

hoops135@hotmail.com

CROSSING THE BORDER

(On the neighborhood tour, I left you, the reader, off at Howard Place. For a quick second though I want to take a detour from our scheduled tour)

We can all agree (most of us anyway) that growing up in Windsor Terrace was special. As a youngster the friendships formed, our time with legit cousins, family gatherings a few blocks away (my cousins lived on Fuller Place), the rivals, the fights, arguments, sports played together and of course the all-important love interest.

This morning I asked a friend from out here (Michigan) if he knew another guy from a different area, located about 10 miles away.

“Nah, I don’t deal with those people from (name of area left blank)…

I found it very hard to believe him.

Also, last night one of my players told me they were driving up to where I live to play some other guys. They wanted to see what the ‘comp’ was like and how they stacked up.

Then there’s this policy of living in a certain zone to be able to attend a certain school, or I think they put it another way, ‘Schools of Choice’.

It got be thinking about kids from other neighborhoods.

I’m not sure where the cut-off was/is for Windsor Terrace but areas like 5th avenue, 21 street, St. Saviors and IHM parish were locations I met a lot of outstanding people during my upbringing.

Maybe you met someone in high school, or even later in life when you went out into the workfield, you saddled up next to a co-worker and found out they got off the ‘F’ train at 7th avenue or even Ft. Hamilton Parkway. And of course someone blurted out, “Small world huh?”

I hate that term.

What about when you were a youngster, say ages 13-18? Did you meet anyone from outside of Windsor Terrace?

But before you ventured out, did you have a preconceived notion about that neighborhood? The kids living there? Did you think they were richer, smarter, or tougher?

Was it always on your mind to see what kind of people they were?

Throughout the years I was able to meet guys like Jackie and Billy Ryan, Turk, Ron Hardy, Chris Ryan and Danny Leary; just a few guys from I.H.M. I had the pleasure of hooking up with down at East 5th street park while going out to explore other basketball courts and match up with different competition.

Terry Green, Al, Chris Johnson, Carl Manco, and even Chris Logan; all guys from St. Saviors who I also played ball with down at the 9th street YMCA or even 51’s schoolyard. Carl ran a pretty good basketball league in St. Saviors gym and I think I played in one game total. All I recall is watching David Quinn, Colin’s brother go off every time I made the trek with the Cullen’s to watch them play.

The guys from 21st street, who everyone thought were these rough and tough mafia-type kids with leather jackets and ‘ba-ba’ shoes. They drove around in Monte Carlo’s with music blasting. They hung out on the corners sipping beer and at times would come up to the schoolyard and play us in basketball. It was funny watching them run up and down the court in tight Jordache jeans, wife-beater t-shirt with countless tattoos, numerous gold chains dangling from their beefed-up necks and ‘ba-ba’ shoes without socks.

What’s so special about these ‘neighborhood border-crossing’ relationships is that I still keep in contact with many of them. You know what, after all these years, these guys were no different than we were.

No matter where or when it was, we were always able to branch out and meet other kids from different areas. We hopped on our bikes, snuck on the train, took the bus and sometimes we walked…

I wonder if kids do that today.

1978 REUNION

Louie, I’ll step up to the plate and be the lead off hitter…“Now batting for the Yankees, the shortstop, Derek Jeter, number two.”

All 1978 graduates of Holy Name, if you are interested in getting together, please send me an email, and the dates/times you feel will work for you.

Also, if you want to help out with anything (i.e., scout out a place, etc.) let me know.

Remember, I’m in Michigan so it’s tough to coordinate everything but I will start it off with a list of people/dates/times, etc.

-SF

hoops135@hotmail.com