Going Back to Brooklyn

Martin L. Blumberg

Description

Martin L. Blumberg’s first book “ My Brooklyn, My Way,” released in January, 2020 at the start of the pandemic has received rave reviews and chosen #46 for being one of the best books written about Brooklyn. In his latest book, “Going Back To Brooklyn,” you would get the experience once again, of your fond childhood memories of that greatest era..

Sujets

• Poetry

Informations

• Publié par: Xlibris US
• Date de parution: 16 août 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781669816539
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 16 Mo

Extrait

GOING BACK To BROOKLYN
 
 
 
Martin L. Blumberg
 
 
Copyright © 2022 by Martin L. Blumberg. 838452
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
 
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
 
 
Xlibris
844-714-8691
www.Xlibris.com
 
 
ISBN:
Softcover
978-1-6698-1654-6


Hardcover
978-1-6698-1655-3


EBook
978-1-6698-1653-9
 
 
 
 
Rev. date: 08/15/2022
PREFACE
I was born on September 12, 1941, in a residential area of Brooklyn, New York, called Brownsville, Life was simple then and carefree. I was a happy child living in the best of times in a stress-free environment.
Looking back on my eighty years, I am able to reminisce about those early childhood years. I hope those times will never be forgotten. I experienced a childhood that was, for me, both inspiring and exciting. It was a time when I acquired my family values, which have enriched my life immeasurably. Hopefully, this book will help to inspire you to reminisce about your own childhood and relive those precious happy days.
 
 
 
 

1997- Painting I drew of a Bungalow Ice Cream Truck
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my three wonderful children, Stacey, Richard, and Felicia along with their spouses and my ten wonderful grandchildren. The love and pride they have given to my wife, Maxine, and me over the years will always be in our hearts. Our joys and life experiences would never have been as great and rewarding without them in our lives. I am thankful for the ability to share my childhood memories of a completely different era ...the mid-twentieth century.
 
 

1956- Photos of my Classmates from Junior High School
ABOUT THE BOOK
I truly believe that this coffee-table book will reignite your old memories. It will remind you of your youth and those happy years growing up in Brooklyn. You’ll be able to reminisce about those carefree years you shared with your mom, dad, siblings, and friends.
These were the greatest times that should never be forgotten. In this book, I’ve included fifteen different nostalgic recollections in the form of short essays, poems, and photos that are bound to remind you of your childhood. Hopefully, you’ll reminisce about your family, the foods you ate, and the games you played while reading about the largest playground in the world––the streets of Brooklyn. I hope your grandchildren will appreciate these memories as well and acknowledge your experiences from your terrific childhood.
This era should never be forgotten; it must be carried on in memory so future generations can see how happy life was during those years with only the simpler things in life.
These memories should provide future generations with an understanding of how life can be enjoyable without the use of material objects like tablets, smartphones, and other electronics that we so depend on today.
 
 

That’s me with my Howdy Doody Puppet
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank my daughter Stacey Kushlefsky and an old-time friend Roger Elowitz, whom I’ve known since Amboy Street, for helping in editing this book.
 

2022- Portugal - My Wife and I have Travelled to many Places, but Brooklyn will Always be our Favorite
 

 

Rock and Roll

 

Coney Island


Circa 1940s - Serenading in the Alleyways


1946 - Practicing Johnny on the Pony

1949 - My Friend David’s Sister Roberta Taking a Stroll down Amboy Street





Brownsville Recreation Center - Linden Boulevard



 

1940 NYC Government Tax Records
My Apartment House where I Lived - 260 Amboy Street
 
 
 
 
 

My Mom (Second From Right) with my Grandfather Harry,
Aunt Bobbi and Neighbors on Hopkinson Avenue (1940)
INTRODUCTION
Brownsville today, just as in 1941, is a small neighborhood in east-central Brooklyn, a little more than a square mile in diameter. It is located in the eastern part of Brooklyn bordered by the neighborhoods of Crown Heights to the northwest, Bedford–Stuyvesant and Cypress Hills to the north, East New York to the east, Canarsie to the south, and East Flatbush to the west.
In the first half of the 1940s, the average cost of a new house was $4,000. The average salary was less than $2,000 a year. The price of gas was twelve cents a gallon.
If you wanted to buy a new car, the cost was less than $900. Even though these prices seem low, it was still difficult for the residents of Brooklyn to afford most of these luxuries of life. As a young boy, money never seemed to be an issue and was rarely discussed around our house.
At dinnertime, my mom would always prepare a hot, delicious meal. It was a time we all sat around the kitchen table discussing our activities from the day. I do not recall a time in my life when there wasn’t food on our table.
Most likely, our neighbors were as rich or as poor as we were. We didn’t judge people on wealth, religious beliefs, or what color they were; in our eyes, neighbors were all part of our extended family. I learned early in life that there are certain things more important than money. Family, friends, and good health are at the top of the list. These are priceless assets that no amount of money in the world can buy. I inherited these values from my parents.
We didn’t need material things to make us happy; we enjoyed the simpler things in life. There were always neighbors watching from their windows making sure we were safe. Many apartment doors were never locked at night. You never heard of homes broken into or gangs or drugs on our street. We lived on the ground floor, and the latches on our windows were always broken, so it was not unusual for me to climb through my window to get into our apartment.
My dad always had a steady job. He was a mailman for the US Postal Service. My family was fortunate because even during the depression, Dad always had an income. My mom and dad had five children, all boys, each born approximately three years apart.
My eldest brother was born in 1929, and my younger brother in 1945. After WWII, the economy was beginning to boom. Jobs became plentiful, and many businesses that produced war equipment began retrofitting their businesses to produce domestic products. Home developers were putting up new homes. The government came out with the GI Bill, which gave low-cost mortgages to returning soldiers. There were enough jobs to keep most fathers employed, and mothers would stay home bringing up their children.
My father loved innovation. He would come home with the newest gadgets. We were the first in our neighborhood to have a car, TV, movie camera and projector, telephone, typewriter, and a tape recorder, called the “voice of music.” I still have recordings that were taped with my family sitting around our kitchen table, each taking turns singing their favorite songs.
My father would sing “The Three Little Fishies.” The lyrics went “Boop boop dit-tem dat-tem what-tem Chu! And they swam and they swam all over the dam.” My mom would sing “My Yiddishe Momma” and “Bei Mir Bist Du Shein.” My brothers would sing songs from Perry Como and Frank Sinatra.
One of my brothers loved Johnny Ray, who was popular in the ‘50s and recorded a song called “Cry.” My older brother’s favorite song was “I Cover the Waterfront,” sang by Billie Holiday. If we needed background instruments, my brothers and I would clang two spoons together playing along with the songs. We also played a harmonica, enhancing the background music.
We had a large collection of 78 rpm records that we’d listen to on our RCA Victrola. We had many records by Mickey Katz playing his clarinet along with his recordings of Yiddish parody songs. Some of the songs I remember were “Duvid Crockett,” “Sixteen Tons of Latkes,” “Borscht Riders in the Sky,” “K’nock Around the Clock,” “Yiddish Mule Train,” and dozens of other songs our family would listen to and sing along.
I remember the lyrics to a song called “Lefkowitz the Cop.” It went like this: “I’m Lefkowitz the cop, I blow my whistle and the cars they gotta stop, if they don’t stop, I’ll give ka-knock, I’m Lefkowitz the Cop.”
My local corner candy store had candies for a penny like mini wax Coke bottles filled with sweet syrup we’d slurp after biting the wax top off. If you were really thirsty, you could order a “two-cent plain,” which was a glass of seltzer with no syrup––just fizzy water. For a nickel, you could buy a sour pickle or a pack of Topps baseball cards, which included a piece of gum.
We would stop whatever we were doing when we heard the jingling bells of the Bungalow Bar ice cream truck coming down our street. Kids would be running in every direction lining up on the side of the truck for an ice cream treat, like a Creamsicle or a Mello-Roll, which was a round tube of ice cream about three inches long laid on its side and put on top of a wafer cone. An ice cream pop cost fifteen cents; a sm