Flushing, Queens, New York City: this is where my story begins. Born a stone’s thrown from Shea Stadium, my earliest memories are of ballparks and hotdogs. I liked the Mets, but the Yankees were my favorite team because Reggie Jackson was my childhood idol. At five years old, I knew his batting statistics by heart. In 1980, he played 143 games, stepped up to the plate 514 times, scored 94 runs, and catapulted 154 baseballs over the outfield wall with his fearsome bat. One of those comets landed in my glove, cementing the baseball legend’s memory in my mind forever.
Beneath the glamorous exterior, however, New York is a tough city. The Tourism Board paints a romantic picture of the Big Apple, showcasing Broadway, Radio City Music Hall, the New York Public Library, the Museum of Modern Art, the Museum of Natural History, the Empire State Building and, of course, the Statue of Liberty. What they don’t tell you about are the thieves, stalkers, hoodlums, gangsters, and subway pushers that every New Yorker can tell you a story about. I grew up in Elmhurst, Queens on 53rd Ave and 90th Street, which was a nice neighborhood by the standards of the day. Still, my folks must have gone through about 10 different car stereos and driver-side windows in the Chrysler New Yorker my dad used to drive. One time a strange man followed us all the way into the building, no doubt wanting to perpetrate a mugging. I suppose the city still hadn’t robbed him of his humanity because he didn’t go through with his devious plan. It wasn’t until the day that my mother and I witnessed a shootout between two would-be bank robbers and one half-dozen police officers on the street just below our fifth story window that my family seriously entertained thoughts of moving elsewhere -- talk about a catalyst for change.
Still, it wasn’t all bad in the city. Even as a child I relished the dizzying pace of life in New York and was mostly oblivious any danger. I attended a great school, and I had always been blessed with wonderful, dedicated teachers who had an enormous impact on my development. In fact, I used to tote my Speak ’n Spell with me everywhere we went. My parents were always big advocates of education, making large sacrifices to put me through parochial schools where the quality of the education [and the students] was much better. If a loving family and a quality education are the two fiercest weapons a person can wield in the battle for personal success, I was armed to the teeth! Look out, world.
Posted by Christian at July 8, 2003 03:30 PM |