Took a time machine by way of Jet Blue this past week. My trip to the past included two significant
events: a Mel Brooks “concert” and a
visit to Brownsville, a neighborhood in Brooklyn.
Mel Brooks is history, but way more amusing that any
textbook I ever had to read. His story
goes back to the early days of Brooklyn and through show business in America at
some of its finest moments. He knew them
all; not surprisingly at 91, most have passed on. He still has boundless energy and can tell
stories without a prompter (unless you count the guy one stage with him who
occasionally got in a word or two). His
legacy is a wealth of the best in musical comedy and comic film, including “The
Producers”, “Blazing Saddles”, and “Young Frankenstein”.
The second event was a precious gift from my brother: a trip to Brownsville. The main goal was to visit the Stone Avenue
Library and get a picture of the statue you see above. As a child, I visited this library which I
now know was the only one of its kind.
One of the last Carnegie libraries built, it was the only one of its
kind, a Children’s Library. In my
elementary school years, I read constantly and had to replenish my books every
few days. We were only allowed to check
out 4 so I was a regular. It was a short
walking distance from my home; in those days even young children walked
everywhere by themselves. I remember
being in the 2nd or 3rd grade and walking home with a
classmate. The statue in the picture above
was in the lobby and it felt like an old friend. It looked like Cinderella to me; I don’t know
what the sculptor named it.
This visit, I saw the signature “R.H. Park” inscribed and
with researched learned he was a rather impressive 19th Century
artist who did many white marble statues as well as numerous monuments around
the country.
Being who I am, I felt it was necessary to announce my
presence to the staff in the building, which is now also known as “Brownsville
Heritage House” and services as both a community and cultural center. The librarian, originally from South
Carolina, was very friendly and went out of his way to introduce me to the
center’s director, Miriam Robertson.
Turns out Brownsville Heritage House is a NYC version of our own
Okefenokee Heritage Center and Miriam could be the “sister from another mister”
of OHC’s Elizabeth Welch. Miriam was
even interested in the possibility of doing “God’s Trombones” or maybe even “Purlie
Victorious”. How wonderful that would
be!
As if that wasn’t enough, turns out that Miriam’s mother,
Iris, was in my high school graduating class and I spoke with her over the
phone.
To top it off, we walked to our old home, 297 Dumont Avenue,
in the Brownsville Houses public housing project. As we stood there, I struck up a conversation
with an older Puerto Rican gentleman who had lived there 40 years. We talked about hurricanes, family and his plans
of moving to Florida in the future.
Sounds, smells and sights are the real time machine. Sometimes you just have to take the time to
remember why you do what you do and in the end, who you really are.
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