Dad had a habit for coming back into the apartment after he left late for work. Most weekdays, Rory and I watched the act as we sat at the kitchen table late for school eating Kellogg’s corn flakes or burnt toast (not Mom’s fault. Toaster was on the fritz, everything came out dark). Like Dad,… Read more »
Preparations for a perfect summer day required a delicate dance Yesterday, I strolled through Central Park. Resting on a bench in front of the Delacorte Theater, I turned my eyes to the center of the Great Lawn. I saw myself lying face up on the grass at 9 years old, throwing a ball up… Read more »
This has been the coolest New York City summer in my memory. One of the hottest summers I remember is 1961. Each scorcher my brother and I tortured our parents for relief from the heat. Deep into August that year, in the middle of Central Park they gave up. Here’s the story as it appeared… Read more »
I thoroughly enjoyed many World Cup games this past month in Brazil. I was a big fan of the NHL as a kid and quickly understood the importance of precision passing, tight defense and sharp goaltending. A 1-0 game can be a brilliant contest if those three aspects of a hockey game were executed well…. Read more »
Over the Fourth of July weekend, I stayed put in NYC. I love when New York empties for a holiday. As a kid, instead of being sad because I was stuck “in the city,” I found good things that resulted from us not “getting out of town.” Dad didn’t own a car, our vacations were… Read more »
June 20, 1957, on my brother Rory’s first birthday we moved into apartment #4R at 517 East 83rd Street. Mom let Rory and me run straight into the apartment before my aunts and uncles brought the furniture up. I dragged my brother by his arm. At the window was a fire escape with a nest… Read more »
New York City, February 1941: On a Saturday morning, my father woke up and found his father drinking coffee alone in the kitchen with only the winter light coming in through the backyard window. My grandmother and uncle had left for work. Dad, 11, talked baseball with his Dad for an hour while eating three… Read more »
“Get that out of your mouth.” The nun demanded. “Wha?” said the kid. “The candy.” With lots of lisping,”It’ssss not candy, it’ssss a cough drop.” The nun with pointing directions only made the boy take out a hanky and drop the drop into the snot rag. “No candy in class!” “It’sssss not candy!” The nun… Read more »
New York City of the 1970s is what you discover in Lynn Steward’s debut novel, A Very Good Life. If you miss the Manhattan of that era (or missed it altogether) you’ll especially enjoy the ambiance re-created within the pages of this book. Stepping into A Very Good Life is much like walking into the legendary… Read more »
When I was young, I connected with a few mothers of my friends. Sweet Mrs. Muller gave me Sloppy Joe Sandwiches, Funny and sarcastic Mrs. McMahon gave me my own half gallon of 4C Ice Tea on hot afternoons, and the intelligent and elegant Mrs. Peters (unknowingly for a short time) gave us space for… Read more »
