Church handout 1

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Me at 10th ave entrance

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Someone once said, “A man’s work is from sun to sun, but a mother’s work is never done.”

Boy were they right.

I wanted to take this time to wish all the moms out there a very, Happy Mother’s Day!

Carol Corbett

A special shout out to my mother, the late Carol Corbett. My sister Sharon and to my lovely wife Mary.

Have a wonderful day!


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I received a bit of sad news last night.  One of my favorite people of all-time passed away on April 30.

Roger Chebba has left us. He was 88.

If you ever spent time in Timboo’s Bar down on 5th avenue and 11th street you knew Roger. (I still remember the phone number at Timboo’s;  788-9782 – I called the bar so many times looking for my father…)

The joint closed down for good about five years ago.


They don’t make them anymore like Roger. He’s one of the last cast of characters from the good old days.

Roger and Angelo Dundee

(Above – Stevie B, Angelo Dundee and Roger)

Back in the day, when I was in my early teens, on Saturday mornings the Gooch (my father) would take me down to Timboo’s.  I’ll never forget keeping my eyes on Roger all day long.

He always stood at the end of the bar. His favorite spot.  I watched him like a hawk.

“So I could see who walks in,” was Roger’s response one Saturday afternoon when I asked him why he always stands in the same spot.

Roger was the best.

He was my guy.

There were times as a young boy I wished Roger was my father.

Great pool player too. I used to love to watch Roger break. He was by far the best. The balls went everywhere and of course he always managed to sink one or two.

My guy Phil told me this morning before Roger became an Ironworker (Local 40) he was an amateur boxer down in Florida. His trainer? Angelo Dundee…

Roger’s nickname was, get this;  “Battling Billy Prince.”


Condolences to the entire Chebba family.

Roger’s daughters Lori and Lee Ann are aces…



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Here comes the sun.

They’ll all be coming soon.

Arriving from their homes and apartments. All directions. They live on Sherman Street. 10th and 11th avenues. 16th, 17th and 18th streets.

On their way to church. All dressed up.

Four or five different scheduled times for church.

Every hour. Personally I like the 5:30 mass on Saturday nights. That’s the one my girlfriend goes to with her father.

I stopped going to church soon as I graduated from Holy Name. They made me go every Sunday. Hate to stay this but I didn’t like going. I could never put any money in the collection box. Plus I had a hard time getting up so early.

Fiberglass backboards

I’ve been sleeping against the wall here in the schoolyard.  The boys schoolyard to be exact. At our Grammar school we have two yards; boys and girls. We have three full-courts here. The basketball games here are competitive and tough. I like watching he older guys play three-on-three.

As I make my way through the chain- link fence on Howard Place, turning left I walk slowly towards Windsor Place.

It’s quiet. Not a sound except for the birds. But I don’t see them. They must be sitting up in the trees. I glance to my right and see a lady walking down her steps. She’s tossing her trash out. We make eye contact, she smiles at me. I put my head down and keep walking.

You’re probably wondering what the hell I’m doing walking home from the schoolyard at six in the morning?

Last night there was a big fight between me and my girlfriend. I’ll call her “M” – don’t want her to get mad at me for telling you all this.

It was all my fault; I get so jealous when she talks to other boys.

“Can’t keep running away,” she always tells me.

But I disagree with her. I have to run when I’m hurt. I don’t want anyone see me cry.

The boys schoolyard is my safe haven. It’s the only place I feel good.

Must’ve been around eleven last night.

We were all hanging out in Prospect Park.

M and I were having a good time. Drinking, kissing and most of all laughing.

She has the greatest laugh. Her smile is amazing. Her teeth so white.

When we kiss I melt.

Her breathe always smells so fresh.

I don’t know what happened but all of a sudden I find myself yelling at her. In front of all our friends. There’s about 25 of us hanging out. I have a temper. It’s spiraling out of control.

My mind is going in a million different places.

Storming out of the Park I wlak across ninth avenue, past Farrell’s and towards Holy Name. i make a left down Windsor and a right on Howard.

The yard is dark and quiet.

I walk over to the church and sit down against the wall.

A few people walk by heading up Prospect Avenue.

I’m so confused.

I get jealous a lot.

It burns me up.

My face turns red.

Then I start yelling.

I close my eyes. Leaning against the wall I fall asleep.




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