SifuPhil
R.I.P. With Us In Spirit Only
- Location
- Pennsylvania, USA
It's interesting to hear about all the locations that people have grown up in. Whether city or country, poor or rich, the stories are often touching in their emotional content and enlightening in showing how similar we all really are.
The town I was born and raised in, Yonkers, New York, is located several miles north of New York City in the county of Westchester. The name itself is Dutch; in July 1645 Adriaen van der Donck, a lawyer, scholar, and author who had emerged as a leader of the New Netherland colony, purchased a land grant of 24,000 acres. Van der Donck was known locally as the Jonkheer or Jonker (etymologically, "young gentleman," derivation of old Dutch jong (young) and heer ("lord"); in effect, "Esquire"), a word from which the name "Yonkers" is directly derived.
So much for ancient history. Yonkers is the fourth-largest city in New York State and used to be the crown jewel of the Hudson River valley. The film Hello, Dolly with Barbara Streisand was filmed there, and in fact many early movie studios were built in the city. As a result it was a major stop on the show-biz circuits, playing host to hundreds of Vaudeville acts over the years and still having the skeletal remains of many beautiful theaters (most of which have been converted to ugly multi-plex movie houses now).
When I was growing up there in the 1960's our neighborhood was a mix of Italian, Polish, Irish and German families, mostly blue-collar. We were in a hilly residential area, not really within walking distance of any but the smallest Mom-and-Pop stores - but that was Heaven. We had a two-story frame house with a full concrete basement, and my father, being a plumber, had helped build a majority of the house.
We had a fairly large back yard, "L"-shaped on two sides of the house, with a raised garden and fountain. Several trees, among them a Japanese maple, two giant poplars and a massive pine tree that towered over the house (of course, "towered" in relation to a little kid, but impressive nonetheless). A small concrete patio in the back and a large, vertical stone outcropping in front, which the house was basically sitting upon.
I walked to grade school - about a 2-mile walk - and in my younger years my mom would walk with me. She'd also pick me up, so although I walked 4 miles a day she walked 8 (!). But we never complained, or at least I don't remember any being expressed. At about the two-mile mark from our house was also where a few more stores began to crop up - a small grocery store, a liquor store, garages, and my favorite, a variety store formally known as "Massimo's News" but referred to by us as simply "the cigar store".
The cigar store was Heaven for kids. When you walked in, directly on the right was a floor-to-ceiling rack of comic books, model railroading magazines, science magazines and of course, tucked away at the very top out of reach, the Playboy magazines. We'd mill around, waiting for an adult to browse through the latest issue of Hef's and absent-mindedly put it back in a lower rack, whereupon we'd pounce like starved hyenas until the owner of the store, Tony, or worse, his wife Madelaine would yell at us.
After being forgiven (always quickly) we'd check out the candy display case, a massive glass-and-wood affair that stretched down the left side of the store. We'd have long, intense bargaining sessions among ourselves as to which treat to buy with our combined funds. A bottle of Yoo-Hoo from the old cooler and we were all set.
I went to movies, amusement parks (outside the city), concerts, fairs and festivals ... in short, everything a city kid could ever desire. It was a great town when I was growing up, an impression that was shattered many, many years later when I returned to visit, only to be confronted with urban blight and welfare malingerers everywhere.
Thomas Wolfe was right - you can't go home again.
So ... what was YOUR town like?
The town I was born and raised in, Yonkers, New York, is located several miles north of New York City in the county of Westchester. The name itself is Dutch; in July 1645 Adriaen van der Donck, a lawyer, scholar, and author who had emerged as a leader of the New Netherland colony, purchased a land grant of 24,000 acres. Van der Donck was known locally as the Jonkheer or Jonker (etymologically, "young gentleman," derivation of old Dutch jong (young) and heer ("lord"); in effect, "Esquire"), a word from which the name "Yonkers" is directly derived.
So much for ancient history. Yonkers is the fourth-largest city in New York State and used to be the crown jewel of the Hudson River valley. The film Hello, Dolly with Barbara Streisand was filmed there, and in fact many early movie studios were built in the city. As a result it was a major stop on the show-biz circuits, playing host to hundreds of Vaudeville acts over the years and still having the skeletal remains of many beautiful theaters (most of which have been converted to ugly multi-plex movie houses now).
When I was growing up there in the 1960's our neighborhood was a mix of Italian, Polish, Irish and German families, mostly blue-collar. We were in a hilly residential area, not really within walking distance of any but the smallest Mom-and-Pop stores - but that was Heaven. We had a two-story frame house with a full concrete basement, and my father, being a plumber, had helped build a majority of the house.
We had a fairly large back yard, "L"-shaped on two sides of the house, with a raised garden and fountain. Several trees, among them a Japanese maple, two giant poplars and a massive pine tree that towered over the house (of course, "towered" in relation to a little kid, but impressive nonetheless). A small concrete patio in the back and a large, vertical stone outcropping in front, which the house was basically sitting upon.
I walked to grade school - about a 2-mile walk - and in my younger years my mom would walk with me. She'd also pick me up, so although I walked 4 miles a day she walked 8 (!). But we never complained, or at least I don't remember any being expressed. At about the two-mile mark from our house was also where a few more stores began to crop up - a small grocery store, a liquor store, garages, and my favorite, a variety store formally known as "Massimo's News" but referred to by us as simply "the cigar store".
The cigar store was Heaven for kids. When you walked in, directly on the right was a floor-to-ceiling rack of comic books, model railroading magazines, science magazines and of course, tucked away at the very top out of reach, the Playboy magazines. We'd mill around, waiting for an adult to browse through the latest issue of Hef's and absent-mindedly put it back in a lower rack, whereupon we'd pounce like starved hyenas until the owner of the store, Tony, or worse, his wife Madelaine would yell at us.
After being forgiven (always quickly) we'd check out the candy display case, a massive glass-and-wood affair that stretched down the left side of the store. We'd have long, intense bargaining sessions among ourselves as to which treat to buy with our combined funds. A bottle of Yoo-Hoo from the old cooler and we were all set.
I went to movies, amusement parks (outside the city), concerts, fairs and festivals ... in short, everything a city kid could ever desire. It was a great town when I was growing up, an impression that was shattered many, many years later when I returned to visit, only to be confronted with urban blight and welfare malingerers everywhere.
Thomas Wolfe was right - you can't go home again.
So ... what was YOUR town like?