Monday, November 12, 2018

COMING TO A BOOKSTORE NEAR YOU.

I had the good fortune to meet someone too late in life. He was looking for me for four years and finally, we met. We met through a mutual friend named Michelle, an old friend of mine from high school. The gentleman is named Frank, and I won’t give his last name because frankly (pun?) I can’t spell it.

It was last year in a Starbucks that we sat over a coffee and he explained why he was looking for me. It seems he had an idea about a book and needed some help to rewrite and produce the book. He had my attention because his subject matter was something near and dear to my heart. The subject matter of Frank’s book was all about growing up in Brooklyn, or, a place called Brooklyn.

As I read his idea it struck me how wonderful it was in his own words and that I would just edit a little and bring childhood experiences to a new life that would tell not only his story but mine too.

Soon I found myself adding to the book in terms of the information he was relating and the history behind so much of what we took for granted as children on the streets of Brooklyn. Suddenly I was weaving his personal life and mine into the book, it was more than just a Brooklyn book, it was a childhood book for adults, telling historical facts from many years ago about the games we played on the streets, the struggles of survival living in the 1940’s and 50’s. Family crises and family love, tears and joy and suffering when as children, we hardly knew it the love was so strong within the family.

There is a weaving of an Italian flavor with Italian feelings growing into the American culture that slowly accepted Italian immigrants into the mainstream. But don’t kid yourself, it could be a Polish or Irish or German flavoring, it was a diversified Brooklyn we are talking about.

It took me back to the days of playing in the streets and on rainy days the halls of the tenements we lived in. The knick-names we had, the speech patterns we used and the loyalty to the neighborhood we all revered. The games were endless and the people beautiful, we just didn’t have the time in those days to notice.

The book is called: ‘A PLACE CALLED BROOKLYN’. I hope you will seek it out and read it. To me, it is like a song by Simon and Garfunkle’s song, Just Over the Brooklyn Bridge.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A5AtpDm6ClQ

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