Back to the Future

Wed, August 26, 2009

I’m at the Westchester Airport eating my last NY bagel and waiting for my plane. My box and extra suitcase of treasures have been shipped via FedEx. I can’t wait to get home and share what treasures I found in Aunt Ida’s apartment! I ended up with a rock collection and some cut glass and china teapots all in the same suitcase. Certainly FedEx will treat these items with the utmost of care. Antique plastic dollhouse furniture, prints of our National Parks, a 1906 printing of Ben Franklin’s autobiography, a set of two lithograph watercolor books from James Audubon printed in 1966 (which weigh 15lbs by themselves), and other little trinkets of Ida’s life. The work of cleaning out the apartment was grueling, and I moved well over 200 bags down to the basement. She saved every letter, card, and bill ever received. She collected many items from the NY Board of Education during her almost 30 year tenure as a school teacher. Reams of paper, boxes of pencils, ink well pen points and the styluses to go with them, craypas by the box, staplers, grade books, class pictures, art supplies, you name it, she had it in volumes! Suitcases of sweaters and towels all individually wrapped in plastic bags and neatly packed. Thirty years of National Geographic and Smithsonian magazines. All her personal items, and that of two of my other deceased aunts, Rose and Ruthie. I had to break into not just one, but two lock boxes. No cash, but more papers of inconsequence.

There were wills for lots of people I have never heard of, and memorial notices for many. In the Jewish tradition, all your family members are remembered on the anniversary of their death with prayers and candles. As you can imagine at 94, she had lots of candles to burn. The looming feeling of death and the lack of the celebration of life lurked throughout the apartment. One line that sticks with me is that you should love life and use things, not use people and love things. Ida was surrounded with things. She collected anything she thought would be of value; things left behind by family members, items disposed of in the trash.

There were 15 rolled up carpet remnants and throw rugs that came from who knows where. Dishes were packed in the cupboards top to bottom and front to back, each individually wrapped in plastic. Not many matching sets of anything in particular. Thousands of books; mostly focusing on Judaica, art, Abe Lincoln, and natural history. Oh, and the cookbooks. Tons of them, along with probably 10 boxes of pots and pans, dishes and utensils marked for dairy, meat, and Passover uses only. My Aunt Carol claims that she never even cooked! Full sets of everything you would need. And dish drainers beyond the one in the kitchen. There were five more of them, all wrapped in plastic and neatly stacked in the top of a closet! Why? Why does anyone need to hoard these type of items? I will never understand! Cigar boxes of little hotel bars of soap and matchbooks (all lined up in order). Nine irons-all in the original boxes, four meat grinders, five can openers. Enough linen for the Hyatt Regency hotel. Enough stuff to outfit at least five homes.

By looking through everything she owned, I was able to really get to know this woman intimately with her having to say a word. From her report cards as a child, to letters from suitors. Notes on a short lived failed marriage in 1959 and how she was so mistreated. How she found her mate late in life, and how much Frank loved her. I got to learn of her college education (of course she saved all her college transcripts and course work at Hunter College, Class of 1942. She travelled the world and was a conservationist who lived in NYC her whole life.

Good use of Alcohol

I was able to connect with several people in the community while living in the apartment. I met her neighbors, Ruth and Abe, who have lived across the hall since 1950 when the building was built (Ida moved to the Amalgamated Co-op in 1951). Others seemed concerned about her, and sent their best wishes to Ida. Unfortunately, I was unable to share that with her, as she is unaware that I was cleaning out the apartment. The porter, Eddie, AKA "Santitation Engineer" and I had a total love-hate relationship. My first run-in with him was on the Monday I was going to Manhattan. With my earphones in I dropped off a metal bookcase down in the trash staging area. As I turned to leave, Eddie, wearing his wife beater T-shirt hollered at me with a thick NY accent “HEY! ARE YOU 9A?” I wanted to run off after leaving all that trash for him to haul off over the weekend. Let’s just say, he had to fix the trash compactor, I dumped about 500 canned goods down the shoot. Silverware, plants, you name it, if it fit, down the shoot it went. I was told “water under the bridge, fagetaboutit, and don’t do that again.” Eddie was willing to work with me, supply me with the proper trash bags for paper, plastic, glass, and general garbage. “Ok, sweetheart, you have a nice day in the city.” It was at least 10 degrees hotter in the basement than the rest of the building. Lucky me, I got the hottest week all summer to do this job. I think I won him over by offering him three cases of liquor that I found, but he was not happy with me, to say the least.

It's her party, and we will cry if we want to!

After a week of cleaning, I got to head back to my Auntie Carol’s home for a reprieve. We were going to celebrate Ida’s 94th birthday at the assisted living facility. When we got there Sunday afternoon, she was wearing this cute dress, something you might see at a traditional Oktoberfest event. We had asked her if she made it, and yes, she had. It looked very well put together and barely worn at all. Later that evening, Carol and I were going through and shredding and sorting papers and pictures. I pulled out an 8x10 black and white photo from 1960 with several family members and showed it to Carol. She looked at it and started to laugh, as Ida was wearing in the picture the exact dress she was wearing for her 94th birthday party! We were in tears, and wished we had photographed her earlier in the day to compare the look. The dress still looks like new, 50 years later!

Just say no to saving junk!

So I guess I can end this trip by sharing this thought. Friday night I cleaned out the storage closet down the hall. I found a locked suitcase (one of several). I had to break into the suitcase. Inside was a box. In the box was a used toilet seat, harvest gold. This toilet seat would not fit her toilet, even if she did need it. Lesson to the people: don’t keep old junk you can’t use. Someday somebody will have to clean it out and will be making fun of you. Don’t let it be YOUR toilet seat in the suitcase!

Hello NY Cheesecake!

Tues, August 18, 2009

Monday was a blast in NYC, although my feet were killing me and it was too hot. That is typical with my family, it is either the coldest day on record or sweltering whenever we go site-seeing. I headed out on the #1 train, only to find out that the roof caved in at one of the stations, causing all the passengers to disembark and get on a bus from Dykeman (is that an oxymoron?) St. to 168th St. Extra 30 minutes to get to 42nd St. This was apparently a big deal, ‘cause on my way home there were news crews filming everywhere. I took it in stride as hey, this is NYC, ya gotta go with the flow of humanity.

As I walked up the steps at B’dway and 42nd St, I stepped into a surreal world and had to take a moment and just take it in. I’m guessing Vegas is somewhat similar with all the lights and signs everywhere. Had to walk three or 4 blocks to find my Auntie Carol and her friend Lenore at a fancy bank with super high ceilings and huge chandeliers. There were not one, but two doormen at the bank entry. This was no Wachovia branch in Lawrenceville GA, that is for sure. We headed over to Grand Central (it has wonderful air conditioning) and took a cut-through to the Chrysler Bldg, where I was informed that my father was the head elevator operator. It was beautiful in the lobby! The outside was built with white marble from Georgia. From there we headed back to Times Square to find a restaurant for lunch called Duke’s. That was complicated as we snaked around many blocks and Avenues until we found it. Everyone we asked said it was on a different corner. Lesson of the day, find out where you are going before leaving for a trip to the city, and write it on your hand.

After lunch we headed to the Empire State Bldg. Again not in a direct route, but we got there. Awesome! Well worth the $20 to check it out. It is amazing to think of how much engineering and sweat equity went into building this city. It is an island, so it makes me wonder about the geology of the earth and how it can support such massive structures. Turns out the bldg is only a couple of blocks from Macy’s on 34th St. We were all hot and tired, so we went to the shoe section to sit and cool off. Made friends with the high-end shoe sales guy and loitered around for a bit. They don’t sell Chacos! Can you believe it, the world’s biggest dept store and they don’t carry my designer brand? So we wandered around for a while up and down the 7 floors of original wooden escalators. Never have I seen anything like them. Finally we headed back up to Times Square, and low and behold, the Naked Cowboy was out and about. I won’t lie, I’ve never heard of him, but apparently he is an extra special huckster. Got my cheap thrill, and said goodbye to my Auntie and her friend. We were all exhausted from the heat.

As I headed to the subway, a piece of cheesecake whistled at me, so I picked up this extra special treat as the “icing on the cake.” It was heavenly and well worth every penny of the $7.50 I forked over. Hard to imagine my dad used to bring home whole pies for free from the bakery in the bldg where he worked at 274 Madison Ave as the super for almost 20 years. The brain cells were popping all over my brain from my childhood. I do miss him in my life, as he left this world before I turned 17. He was quite the story teller about life in NYC... he grew up in Greenwich Village, the son of Spanish immigrants in the 1930s & 40s.

Time Travel

As I settle in for the night, I wanted to share. My goal is not to be disrespectful to my Great Aunt, but to help others to see life is not about all the little "stuff" you collect, but the memories that you make. I remember as a kid seeing the black and white photographs that are stashed all over in nooks and crannies of this tiny apartment. I remember thinking when I was a kid that these people were old. My tiny Auntie, who stands about 4'8", was retired and grey when I visited 30 or so years ago. Looking at them again now in my 40's, it seems like the photos weren't that long ago at all. In fact, it seems that time has somehow cheated me.

Anyway, enough of the philosophical stuff. My last findings of the day include:

• 3 wooden cigar cases full of matches from every restaurant/hotel she ever visited, all neatly stacked in rows



• 1 case of octagon soap



• Ammo case with "stuff" I don't know what, it smelled BAD

The trips to the basement this evening were tough. One of the wheels on my cart blew out, so 'm working on three. I brought the summer heat wave from ATL, it is super hot. The heat must have made me delirious, as I was eyeing things that others had dumped down there! I would love some sweet tea to help cool off. I kept some tea bags, but you guessed it, I threw out all the sugar! Oh well, tomorrow I can pick up some of those sweet n' low packets in honor of Aunt Ida while I'm out in Manhattan. Going to the Empire State Building! Maybe I'll see King Kong :).

A Trip to the Bronx

Too good not to write it down…

I arrived on Thursday in White Plains, just north of NYC. This airport is one gate, which is great! Once picked up my Auntie Carol, we visited her Aunt Ida, my Great Aunt. Since September 2008 she has resided at an assisted living facility. Ida just turned 94 and is suffering from dementia. She did not recognize me, but that is okay, I know her! She had lost her teeth, and kept asking everyone what they had done with her dentures. It is hard to see her slipping away, as she was so bright and spry. Now she is barely able to walk. My grandmother also lived in this lovely facility for a period of time before she passed. Carol and I had a casual dinner in Danbury before heading out to the Bronx in the morning so I could get started on the “working” part of my working vacation.

My task is to clean out Aunt Ida’s apartment. I thought she lived in the amalgamated co-op since 1941, but Aunt Carol discredited that story. From all the papers I have seen, it seems more like early 1950’s. Either way, that is 50 years in this one-bedroom apartment on the 9th floor of 130 Gale Place. Ida is the last survivor of six siblings; her parents were Jewish immigrants from Russia. Four of the older siblings were born in Russia, Ida here in New York. She graduated college in 1942 and became a school teacher for the NY school system for 40 years. She was married to Frank Leff, an attorney who passed away over 10 years ago. She never had any children of her own, but step kids of Frank’s. These facts, I knew prior to my arrival in the Bronx. It is very humbling to be the one to unravel her life and become embedded in her world. I am learning about my own family history, and the life of Ida.

My Aunt Carol laughed when I told her about my aspirations to do lots of sight-seeing while here in NYC. She warned me that I probably won’t have the time. How long will it take to clean out a one bedroom apartment? It could possibly be that bad….HA! I started on Friday afternoon. By 8pm, I realized what a daunting task this would be. Ida has evidently been suffering from OCD for MANY years. So much to get rid of, and just me and a personal grocery cart-the kind that homeless people use to carry all their worldly possesions. SO-trash goes in the sub garage, 11 floors away (Thank God for elevators, no matter how slow). I learned pretty quickly that NYC is very recycle friendly. EVERYTHING gets recycled, which I totally support. Yeah, until I realized that Aunt Ida has been hording food…I would have to empty all the jars of gefilte fish (over 30 jars of this stuff), borsht, grape juice, vanilla, and liquor before I could dispose of the items. Did I mention there is no food disposal in this 1950’s kitchen? I had to bag all the dumped food and take it to the trash shoot down the hall. The stench was horrific. I don’t mean to disrespect the eaters of gefelte fish, but it is the equivalent of cat food patties floating in juice/gel inside of jars. It was nasty. I stayed up late to get rid of all the food in the kitchen so I could begin to “air out” the apartment. The home is Kosher, so she has two sets of everything, one for meat, and another for dairy. And another set for Passover. This little 90lb lady has always had a bad rap for saving EVERYTHING. You know the type, takes the sugar packets, even though she can well afford to purchase her own. I could go on, but here is a bulleted list of interesting things I’ve uncovered SO FAR:

• Birth Control pills (SHE IS 94!)
• Suitcases (3) of used washcloths—all very neatly stacked and labeled
• Personal letters from the dentist who extracted a tooth of FDR in Dec 1944 at Warm Springs
• Lids from every sherbet container she ever purchased-a whole cabinet full.
• 50 cans of sardines
• A set of 20 keys…not just any keys, but the ones you use to open sardine cans (doesn’t each can come with its own key?)
• 5 Electric can openers (still in the boxes)
• Bottles of liquor from the 1950’s (down the drain except for a bottle of unopened Crown Royal with a tax stamp from 1962)
• Her teeth (I can’t wait to bring them to her next week!)
• Maps from around the world, all folded correctly and in order by location

I have found the folks in the Bronx so far have been helpful. Wouldn’t say friendly, but standoffish. You know me, I’m not shy. If I need help, I’ll ask. I just wish they would stop honking their horns. Seems like every where I go here, people are always honking at the person in front of them when the light changes. Chill out people! We will all get where we are going! I’m on foot, so I don’t have to worry about the road rage issues too much. Just have to be on alert when crossing the streets. There is a little grocery store about three blocks away. Been there to get a 12 pack and some ice to get me through this time on my own. It is pretty hot, and I’m sweating my butt off up and down the elevator to drop off this junk.

Back home I use www.freecycle.com to get rid of things I no longer want. The co-op has basically the same thing going. I take the stuff down to the trash staging area, and low and behold, the next time I come back the stuff is gone. Aunt Ida’s things aren’t really worth anything, but hey, if you need an iron or can opener, it is going to be your lucky day. Every time I return to the basement, stuff I’ve dropped off has disappeared. There were two sets of corning ware (still in the boxes) that I left. Next trip down they were gone. Third trip the boxes only were back for recycling! Got to love it….God Bless whoever got the 1960’s cookware, I hope they use it in good health.

A Walk in the Park…

So today is Sunday, and I read in the lobby on Friday that the park was offering a guided hike to the Croton Aqueduct, and the Rangers would give an interpretive history of the NYC water system. After figuring out how to get there, I headed out this morning to check it out. The Van Cortland Park is right outside the co-op door, and I’m a little nervous about hiking the trails alone. Yeah, so I start walking to the Nature Center on 246th and Broadway, and tripped on the sidewalk! Fell and scraped up my palm. What a clumsy dope I am. Anyway, I’ll live. So the park is over 1100 acres, the third largest in NYC. Got to see the Van Cortlandt Mansion (George Washington Slept there) and meet the “Urban Rangers.” The park was packed at 10:00am with all sorts of team sports going on: Handball, racquetball, tennis, soccer, softball, baseball, cricket, etc. Families were camped out for Sunday picnics all over the place. The park is a vibrant place, but boy, NY’ers have foul mouths. I have never heard the “F” bomb dropped so many times since I was at Stanford stadium when the Bulldogs lost to Alabama last year. Moms pushing babies, women in casual conversation, coaches getting their soccer team pumped up—it didn’t matter. F-it, I didn’t care. I was people-watching.

There were about 20 people that showed up for the nature hike. Great! Let’s go! So we started out with a little history lesson about how the original aqueduct was built in 1837, two years after the great fires of NY, when basically Manhattan burned because there was no water to put the fires out. Okay, great. Passed the oldest public Golf Course in the country, 1890’s. Cool. Next, we have to CROSS the Henry Hudson parkway, via walking along the Maj. Deegan! For my ATL friends, this is like crossing 285 by walking alongside I-85 at Spaghetti Junction. Wow. Ya just don’t do that. But, hey, I go with the flow. This is an URBAN Nature hike.

So my lesson for the day is about aqueducts. I figured we would be walking along a levy or a river of water. No. Wrong. We walked ON the aqueduct, which is a pipe underground surrounded by bricks to keep it in place. Not so fascinating. But Ranger Mike was really enjoying giving the poison ivy speech, and taught us the medicinal uses of Jewel Weed. The walk brought to mind my childhood growing up in Peekskill, just up the line, with similar fauna. At no point on our 2-½ mi. hike were we away from the sounds of the city whirling by. But…the park offers a green haven in the midst of concrete and brick. It meets the recreational needs of many, active or passive.

My walk back to the apartment included a stop at the drug store to buy band-aids for my hand (I've already tossed the 15 boxes of them in the medicine cabinets, of course). Saw evidence that rednecks can live in the city, too. Christmas lights in August? Really? Why? Met a young man on the corner by the Riverdale Diner who was asking me for directions, boy was he off base. Anyway, I came up the back side of the building and saw him wandering around outside. I asked if he was still lost, and started to learn more about his purpose in the neighborhood. Chris is a Journalism Grad student at Cornell, and his assignment is to “cover” a section of the city for his assignment. This little neighborhood is very nice (in NYC terms); a lot of diversity and mix of people throughout the lifecycle. Every time I’m in the elevator I get to see a good cross section of inhabitants. I’ve still got lots of work to do here, so I better get back to schlepping this stuff to the basement. Will keep you posted with my interesting finds and adventures….

Motocycle Inclusion Effort