Received word this morning that Gerard Lang has passed away.
Gerard was the owner of “Gerard’s Bar” on the corner of 17th street and 9th avenue.
His nephew Gerard told me he passed last week surrounded by family.
He was the last of the older male Lang’s from the neighborhood.
“We will give him a good Irish send off tomorrow,” said Gerard.
Condolences to the entire Lang family.
Gerard Lang, age 90, passed away on Tuesday, December 20th, 2022. Gerard (Jerry) was born on November 16th, 1932 in Brooklyn, New York. Gerard is predeceased by his Mother and Father – William and Mary Lang, and his brothers and sisters – Joseph, William, Patricia, Eddie, Walter, Raymond, Richard, Michael and survived by his sister Barbara.
Gerard was the Beloved Husband of the late Helen (Hayes), Cherished Father of Arthur (Christine), Helen, Diane (Tommy), Kimberly, Nancy (John) and Baby Mary. Loving Grandfather to Brittani, Jennifer, Kristen, Dylan, Jake, Tommy, Bryan, Megan, Izzy, Abby, Sam and Charlie and Great-Grandfather to Johnny, Gavin and Cameron. He was also the Dear Uncle of dozens of beloved nieces and nephews, including Linda Lang and her children.
“I have never been able to find peace like I found on the basketball court…a mystical place, heaven and earth between those lines.”
-John Merz
Woke up this morning to a ton of snow. It was windy and cold. Temps dipped to 4 degrees.
Whenever it snows, first thing I think of is shoveling the snow from the basketball courts at Holy Name schoolyard.
Back in the day we didn’t have a gym where we could go and play ball. Holy Name schoolyard was our “paved paradise.” Howard Place and Prospect Avenue was the place to be. On Saturday mornings my routine was the same; wake up, eat a bowl of cereal, get dressed and walk to the yard.
If you played on the basketball team at Holy Name the schoolyard was where you practiced with your team. Snow on the ground? So what. We grabbed a shovel and got down to business. While kids in the neighborhood were walking around shoveling sidewalks for cash, we were shoveling the basketball courts for the love of the game. Practice cancelled because of bad weather? LOL…not a chance.
When I was 14, maybe 15 I went to the schoolyard one night after dinner. I see two kids shoveling the middle court. As I walk in the yard I notice it’s Edgar and Gammie; two of the best point guards our neighborhood produced.
They told me to grab the shovel on the ground and help them. So I did.
Edgar ran the point for Bishop Ford and then St. Francis College of Brooklyn. Gammie played point at John Jay.
Someone once said, “success leaves clues.”
We cleared the court and worked on our ball handling. No shots, just dribbling up and down the court from the church to Howard Place. I wanted to stop and get some shots up.
Wonder if kids still shovel the basketball courts today?
Received word that Doris Kawas has passed away.She was 59.
Doris and I grew up together in the neighborhood.
Five years ago when I was trying to raise money for my high school basketball team Doris sent us a check.
A message from the Kawas Family: (Doris was married to Thomas Kawas)
We are very saddened to inform you all that heaven has gained the sweetest, most beautiful angel. Doris was the most incredible mama, wife, sister, friend. We know she was very loved by many. That being said, we would like anyone who wishes to come join us together in celebrating her life.
We hope to see you all there 🤍
Tuesday, December 20th
4:00-6:00pm
Wake at Brown-Wynne Funeral Home
200 SE Maynard Rd, Cary, NC 27511
Wednesday, December 21st:
11:00am
Mass at Saint Michaels The Archangel Church 804 High House Rd, Cary, NC 27513
In 1977, when I was in the seventh grade at Holy Name I took the Co-Opexam.
This test was important to which high school I would attend. A standardized admissions test used by Catholic High schools in New York City.
It was a measure to see how smart you were and what high school would accept you. I could have attended John Jay but Mom wanted me to continue my Catholic education. I think?
No one helped me with the high school admissions process. I was clueless about the whole thing. Mom and Dad dropped out of high school. My older brother dropped out. No pre-tests. No study guide. No tutor. Nothing.
On the day of the exam I had to get up early on a Saturday morning. The test was being given at Xaverian High School in Bay Ridge so I had to take two trains.
I hated tests. I was terrible at them. I always scored low. The multiple-choice questions were confusing to me. When I’d come across a question where I thought the answer was ‘A’, I’d read the other choices and think they were just as good. Give me the option of writing an essay for the answer. I’d even go for a true or false.
Leading up to tests my palms would get sweaty, I’d start turning red and I would gag. Think they call it “test anxiety” today.
Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever studied the night beforefor any exam or quiz while at Holy Name. I wonder if my classmates were having study sessions in groups down someone’s basement and they failed to invite me?
“Hey Steve, we’re studying for Miss Monzillo’s social studies test after school, wanna join us?”
Nah, I’m going to the schoolyard to play basketball.
The first step in the Co-Op process was choosing four schools that you were interested in attending. My first pick was Power Memorial, an all-boys school in Manhattan. The Panthers were a basketball powerhouse. I had seen their varsity team play at the King tournament in Brooklyn. Eddie Moss was their point guard and Larry Petty played the five for them.
LaSalle Academy was second. I knew nothing about them except that it was located in the Lower East Side of Manhattan.
My third pick was Christ the King in Queens, another solid basketball program. Their coach Donnie Kent lived around the corner from me on Windsor Place. I had seen their team play in the schoolyard in the Holy Name summer league. I loved Buzz Matthews.
Bishop Ford was my final selection. Deep down I wanted to be a Falcon. Not only did Ford have a good basketball program, but it was located five blocks from my house on 20th street and 9th avenue. There were a lot of guys from the neighborhood that went to Ford too, especially basketball players. I grew up watching these guys play ball in the schoolyard and then I watched their high school games on Friday nights. My favorite player was Tommie Walsh who was from Bay Ridge.
A school like Xaverian required a higher test score than other schools. All the smart kids from the neighborhood went to Xaverian. Brian Keating from 16th street played point guard for them; he was one of the best players from our neighborhood. My grades sucked so I knew there was no way I was headed there.
My hopes were to make at least one school on my list. One out of four wasn’t bad, right? Three schools required getting up early in the morning and taking the subway; if I went to Ford I could sleep a little later and walk to school. Plus some of my classmates chose Ford as their number one school. John Godfrey and Mary Kawas, two of my best friends applied there. But did I really want to continue the Catholic school education? Maybe I should have went to John Jay? Possibly Grady with a few of my friends?
The morning of the Co-Op mom didn’t know I was taking it until the night before when I asked for carfare for the subway.
“Can you leave me carfare in the morning?”
“For what?” She answered.
“I have to take the Co-Op.”
“The Co-Op! Is that tomorrow?”
Mom had no idea.
When my test results came back I was accepted to three of the four schools. Bishop Ford didn’t accept me. I had my sights set on attending Power. Mom was excited I was accepted. It was the least expensive in terms of tuition.
I wonder if they even offer the Co-Op exam anymore?
“Don’t be bitter. Don’t be mean. Nobody wants to work with an asshole.” -Chazz Palminteri
One thing I have learned over the years is you need to be a person of high character.
I did dumb things as a kid that I am not proud of and looking back, I wanna shake my head. Like stealing candy from Rae and Otto’s. A friend and I once forged a check, I stole a baseball glove from a good friend and a bunch of us would steal bikes from kids in Prospect Park.
Disrespecting adults around the avenue with an awful mouth was my M.O.
Don’t tell me what to do.
I can recall Mrs. Deere correcting me for crossing on the red light. I said something back to her that wasn’t very nice. She raised a good family; Mickey, Richie and Eileen. Why couldn’t I just wait for the light to turn green?
Oftentimes I talked back to my mother, and man do I regret it. The worst was stealing money from her purse.
In the sixth grade I got ejected from my Bantam “A” basketball game at OLPH. A fan said something to me while I walked to the locker room and I gave them the middle finger. I was 12.
When I was a teenager I treated my first girlfriend like crap. It all boiled down to my poor character.
Fist fights with friends at Holy Name. Cheating on exams and skipping school. Not a good look.
It makes me wonder how bad was I?
How could I be so stupid?
I saw my father treat people awful. So of course there’s a good chance I will follow that lead. And I did.
When my mother worked many hours behind the bar she’d come home with her tips and dump the bills on the kitchen table. I’d help her count her tips and when she got up to go to the bathroom I would swipe a few bucks. I was snatched $300 from her boyfriend and split to Florida with my cousin Lenny.
We had a lot of great people in the neighborhood; kids that did the right thing. Went to school, got good grades, worked a job and always treated others with major respect. They mostly came from a good home. Parents who taught them valuable lessons on how to treat others.
My path was a rocky one. There were examples in front of my eyes but I was too stupid to see it. It was definitely an emotional thing with me. Insecurity. Lack of trust. Anger. Jealousy.
I learned you have to be a good person. Being nice to others doesn’t cost a thing. Treat people in service with respect. Author John Kim said not to treat them like they are beneath you.
Don’t be a douche. Be kind. Don’t be a jerk. Good people make good places. Say hello and thank you. Don’t get bitter, get better. How you treat people is a reflection of your character.
Spike Lee wrote and directed a movie called “Do The Right Thing.” And that’s one of my main goals each and every day; to do the right thing.
“The doing is the thing. The talking, worrying and thinking is not the thing.” -Amy Poehler
As a kid I wasn’t paying attention.
My learning skills were below average.
They could have diagnosed me with ADD, ADHD, and any other acronym describing disorders in children. One thing looking back I know I had anger issues.
Getting yelled at by adults, hit by them, and made to feel less than adequate didn’t help. Nor did being poor. All traits vital to a mid-to-high self-esteem for a kid. If there was a neighborhood ranking on kids self-esteem, I was near the bottom.
Work was a lesson I missed out on. Don’t get me wrong, it was all around me but I was too blind to see it. My mom worked pretty hard. Holding down two, sometimes three jobs at once. She hustled.
Our neighborhood was filled with hard workers. As I think back to the many models of grinders; men and women who woke up early and put in the work, I wish I had taken it more serious and became inspired by the examples right before my eyes.
Ironworkers, cops, fireman, sanitation workers, teachers, shop owners on ninth avenue; the list goes on…fuck, the kids my age were hustling. Mark Sabbagh, my cousin from Fuller Place worked two jobs at once; he was 13. Kids shoveled sidewalks when it snowed, made a few bucks. Donato Barrucco was riding the delivery bike at United. Kenny from Joe’s Pizza on Prospect Avenue was delivering pizza pies in the rain.
Most important lesson I learned over the years was your work ethic is going to define you. Your drive to do the best you can will determine whether you’re a success or not.
My work ethic sucked when I was young. Luckily it improved as I got older.
Nothing gets done without the work. You need a strong work ethic. It pains me when I see kids lacking in doing the work. In school, at work, participating sports…work a must. You have to put in the time.