PELHAM PARKWAY TIMES

The National Jewish Sports Hall Of Fame And Museum On Sunday April 18, 2010 will be Honoring

JON SCHEYER

College Player Of The Year! (4 years ago — High School Player Of The Year.)

Jon Scheyer [email protected] WWW.PELPARKTIMES.ORG TEL 631/979-4985

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THE PELHAM PARKWAY TIMES Howard R. Cohen Publisher Volume 16 Issue 3 Chuck Gitlin Website Director

CCHS Class of 1963 Reunion (see page 71)

PAGE 6 THE PELHAM PARKWAY TIMES PAGE 6

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August 15, 2010 CCHS Reunion Class of 1963,

and all those turning

65 See page 71

AS A PUBLISHER

“ALL THE MEMORIES THAT FIT,

WE PRINT!”

VOLUME 16 ISSUE 3

Do you have a

Story or a Picture that you would like to see

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Please mail them to:

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Index 4 Index 7 “The Admiral” 9 Forever Remembered & Pelham Parkway Notables 10 FGCs—Part 17B by Howard “Hesh” Cohen 13 The Yankee Corner by Ray Unger 15 Diane (Becker) King - A Pelham Parkway Notable by Richard Fagin 17 Recipe Column 18 Underwater Escape by Warren Mintz 23 Classy Classified 25 Poems 26 Pelham Parkway vs. The American Dream by Billy Schneiderman 28 Story from “The Jewish Week” by Adam Dicter 30 Pelham Parkway Hobbies 33 Re-union Re-union Re-union by Harvey Turkheimer 35 Apparently, I Remember This Well by Jay Becker 37 The New Girl In Class! by Claire Klienman Silverstein 39 Letters To The PPTimes 42 Pelham Parkway Remembers Irving Braverman by Mel Braverman 45 Did You Know? 46 Catch The Rising Tide “Part 8” by Robert Steinberg 50 Many Thanks To... by Howard “Hesh” Cohen 52 Guest Book Visitors 54 Funny Pages 59 CCHS Class of 1959 — 50 Year Reunion by Mel Citrin 66 E-mails Back page —– Subscription Form

For Pelham Parkway Website or Yentanet Information E-mail Chuck at [email protected] or

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The Attendees. 1st row (seated on floor): Maddy Martucci Lamagna, Linda Weintraub Arnstein, Roslyn Brickman Shaoul,

Louise Ross Corito, Carol Lynn Miller Hellman, Anne Kass Bowman, Nancy Knaff Dennin, Vicki Hochberg, Mel Citrin, Brenda Kamen, Leslie Steinhause Appelbaum, Lenore Cymes, Sandy Lustig Levine,

Judy Leipsner Davis, Barbara Thaler, and seated on chair: Rosalind Leavy Braunstein.

2nd row: Diane Ginsberg Lane, Darlene Bregman Ehrenberg, Rosalie Hausman Abramson, Brenda Canal Nagel, Roberta Kleiner Gemunder, Rochelle Altman Friedman, Karen Fox Markoe, Sharon Ell Steinvurzel,

Noreen Weinbaum Pokras, Trina Adler Berkowitz, Marion Rosenberg Mines (Class of ’60), Myrna Wener Rosen, Debbie Shapiro Dicker (Class of ’60), Mrs. Esther Chad Abramson (special guest), Fran Ende Datz,

Edie Zimmerman Herman, Adrienne Alpert Leaf, (standing): Judy Horowitz Kaufman, Estelle Balitzer Miller, Ronnie Beranbom Lewis & Bari Reimer Weiss.

3rd row: Stuart Chimkin (Class of ’60), Susan Cohen Merims, Laurie Wiener Jesner, Linda Lipman Gross,

Ellen Halbstein Passman, Joy Mitchell Anastos, Susan Katz Marin, Karen Wagner, Cora Golos Diamond, Arnie Landau, Manny Horvitz, Joe Kornbleuth, Bill Katz, Carolyn Keyes Rohlf, Virginia Dama Ramazzotto, Lois Saggese Cavaliere,

Sandy Di Bartolo Fanzini, Marie Greco Ley, Rina Mirabelli Tarantino & Annette Schulman Fogelman.

4th row: Lenny Reich, Jerry Myerson, Bernie Panoff, Stuart Flaks, Neil Lawner, Paul Jacobs, Bruce Unger, Sam Boodman, Mike Kravitz, Steve Edelstein, Herb Lewis, Ed Curtin, Walter Srebnick, Marvin Kaufman,

Nancy Kopell, Bruce Rund, Arleen Cardile Vaccarino, spouse of Margie Stern (Bruce Kashkin), Margie Stern Kashkin (Class of ’60), Irene Chornodolsky Hlushewsky & Dom Tuminaro.

last row: Mel Damast, Mike Eisenman, Peter Veres & Ronald Zavattaro.

CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS HIGH SCHOOL

CLASS OF 1959 — 50 YEAR REUNION HELD ON OCTOBER 25, 2009

IF YOU MISSED IT —– YUP, YOU MISSED IT -— IT WAS AWESOME!

More pictures 64, 65 & 71. The full story on page 59.



C O L U M B U S




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Do you know a Pelham Parkway person that you feel should be included in our Pelham Parkway Notable list? If so, speak up, — send in your notable’s name and bio!

The Pelham Parkway Times website http://www.pelparktimes.org

Pelham Parkway Notables

Many thousands of individuals have come out of this wonderful section of The Bronx.

To our friends receiving

The Pelham Parkway Times and to those visiting our site thank you for your support!

Many have forged ahead and made quite a name for themselves. Our new section will “bio” their stories.

We need all of you to dig down in your memories and help us initiate this sure to be interesting section.

List of Notables Robert Abrams, Diane Becker Fagin, Martin Brest,

Bert E. Brodsky, Arthur Bisguier, Murray Feshbach, Elon Gold, Rose Gosten, Holland Avenue Boys,

Anne Italiano Bancroft, Jeffrey Hayden, Christine Jorgensen, Roland LaStarza, Howard Puris, Jules Reich, Roy Rubin, Honorable Barry Salman, Honorable Eugene Schuster,

Jerry Silverman, Andy Spano, Sy Sperling and Robert Swedroe.

Send in a name and a short bio,

with the reason you feel this person should be added to our list of notables, possibly a picture of them then, and the schools they attended.

Please assist us in this notable venture.

It will enlighten us all to see who we were and where we wound up.

Send all information to:

Chuck Gitlin 205 Commack Road

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Or Email your information to

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Aronow, Floyd (Koochie) Boral, Pearl (Hoffman) Braverman, Irving Goldner, Madeline (Blumstein) Karlan, Ken Moldoff, Norman Rodriguez, Richard (Shabbos-goy) Rizzo, Joel Schachter, Irwin Spector, Marvin Weiss, Warren Vogel, Rhoda (Shaievitz)

FOREVER REMEMBERED



FGCs—PART By Howard “Hesh” Cohen, CCHS 1953 [email protected] FGCs Part 1 appeared in the PPT, Volume 10—Issue 3, on page 69; Part 2 appeared in the PPT, Volume 11—Issue 1, on page 22; Part 3 appeared in the PPT, Volume 11—Issue 2, on page 63; Part 4 appeared in the PPT, Volume 11---Issue 3, on page 69; Part 5 appeared in the PPT, Volume 12---Issue 1, on page 24; Part 6 appeared in the PPT, Volume 12---Issue 2, on page 36; Part 7 appeared in the PPT, Volume 12---Issue 3, on page 33; Part 8 appeared in the PPT, Volume 13---Issue 1, on page 33; Part 9 appeared in the PPT, Volume 13---Issue 2, on page 12; Part 10 appeared in the PPT, Volume 14---Issue 1, on page 7; Part 11 appeared in the PPT, Volume 14---Issue 2, on page 51; Part 12 appeared in the PPT, Volume 14---Issue 3, on page 26; Part 13 appeared in the PPT, Volume 15---Issue 1, on page 10; Part 14 appeared in the PPT, Volume 15---Issue 2, on page 10; Part 15 appeared in the PPT, Volume 15---Issue 3, on page 10; Part 16 appeared in the PPT, Volume 16---Issue 1, on page 10. Part 17A appeared in the PPT, Volume 16---Issue 2, on page 10. For the reader’s convenience, I have repeated the first and last paragraphs of those articles below. Note that these tales are basically accurate, and there are enough FGCs and readers of the PPT around who remember these stories to keep me honest. If anybody would like a copy of any of the above quickly, send me your e-mail address and I’ll forward it. Some readers may remember the FGCs, a club of fun-loving, mostly hard-drinking guys who lived in and around Pelham Parkway in the

mid-1950s. The dues-paying members were Ben Berger (President), Danny Reisner (VP-Right Wing), Hesh Cohen (VP-Left Wing), Phil Bernstein, Mark Gordon, Ira Karp, Hillel "Emy” Meshberg, Arnie Moskowitz, Bob Panush, William “Zunny” Goldstein, Jerry Kriegel, Hesh Reischfeld, Hesh Rothman, Joey Weiss and Normy Waldman, and that’s the last time you will see any of their names mentioned. Some have died and others may not want to be associated with any of the shticks that will be described in this and future parts. There were others who frequently hung around with the FGCs but were not dues-paying members, like Jac Radoff, who paid their own way as expenses arose. Due to the length of this Part and the desire to completely reflect the conversations that led to it, it has been divided into three sections. This is the second section. The third section will follow in the next edition of the PPT. However, if you absolutely will not be able to sleep tonight without reading the third section, send me your e-mail address and I’ll forward an advance copy. I spent an evening with another

FGC recently, and a bottle of good wine loosened our tongues. We reflected back on events that took place over 50 years ago. The session was taped because the wine dulled my memory, but seemed to enhance the other FGC’s recollection of the facts. The other FGC went to work in Manhattan while I got married and went to work on Long Island. Our conversa t ions compared the differences between the work environments in those two places. And that ’s what these Parts 17 (A, B and C) are all about---the vast differences between people who work just 30 miles apart. There was Paul, the other FGC’s supervisor. It was never really clear what Paul's story was. He lived alone near the 92nd Street Y, and everybody thought he was gay because he never spoke about girls and had no pictures on his desk. One day, early in the other FGC’s career at the company, Paul told him that he had to do something about his clothing. As an example, the suit he was wearing that day was probably his Bar Mitzvah suit and it was undoubtedly out of style when originally purchased for the Bar Mitzvah. It turns out that this was an accurate observation. As a matter of fact, the suit was purchased at Simon Ackerman on Fordham Road and had been altered twice a year at no cost since that time, consistent with Simon Ackerman’s famous ad that suits would be altered at no cost for the life of the garment. What Simon Ackerman didn’t realize was that Bar Mitzvah suits for first generation Jewish boys were generally of material that would never wear out, and that FGCs in particular, put on lots of weight over each winter from consuming huge amounts of beer and pizza in combination with zero exercise, and lost that weight in the spring (i.e., just before bathing suit season started). Therefore, the

(Continued on page 11)

FGC’S PART 17B BY HOWARD “HESH” COHEN

"Twins Delilah and Daniel, Elaine and Hesh Cohen's Grandchildren".



(Continued from page 10) clothing required frequent alterations. The FGC had to be careful to alert the tailor to simply take in the garment and not cut off the excess material because it would be needed at the end of the winter. So Paul sent the FGC to his clothier for a suitable wardrobe, alerting the staff that the other FGC was coming and to treat him “right”. The clothes he purchased were stylish, and the other FGC remembered the salesman measuring the pants length several times to make sure it was right. The measurements were made from the crotch to the cuff, thereby reinforcing the rumor that Paul was gay. One day, the other FGC was invited to Paul’s apartment for dinner and to spend an evening with Paul and some of his friends. This was it!! Now he would find out what Paul’s story really was. It turned out that Paul’s friends were all gorgeous girls who lived in the neighborhood, and that Paul was quite straight. Another interesting fact that the FGC remembered was that all of Paul’s friends owned cars, and they had no problems in finding legal parking spots on the street in their neighborhood. None of them had regular 9-to-5 jobs (they were models, actresses, photographers, etc.) and could play the game of moving their cars from the wrong side of the street to the right side as required. In Pelham Parkway, we considered ourselves lucky if we found a spot less than six blocks from our apartment after looking for a spot for less than one hour. Another Paul incident took place during vacation time. Paul announced that he had rented an island at Bolton’s Landing. It seems that one can, in fact, rent an entire island near Lake George from New York State, and simply "veg" out there. One needed a boat to get to the island and there was no electricity, telephone, running water, etc. It was really roughing it to say the least. So Paul left with one of his gorgeous girlfriends and wasn’t heard from for more than one week. Then, the other FGC received a panic call from Paul who claimed that his wal let accidentally fell into the roaring fire in the fireplace (it’s cold in Bolton’s

Landing, even in August, and one really needs a fire to keep warm). It was essential that the other FGC go immediately to the nearest First National City Bank (now Citigroup) and deposit some money into Paul’s account so Paul could pay for the boat, gas, food, etc. When the other FGC asked Paul how he would be able to get the money from the bank in Lake George without identification, blank checks, etc, Paul said there was no time to explain at the moment and he would explain when he returned. Paul never provided an explanation, and never took any time off to get a new driver’s license, and never spent any time on the phone making arrangements for replacement credit cards and other things one keeps in one’s wallet. It was a really odd way of dealing with running low on funds during vacation ---after all, people do occasionally run short of money, especially while on vacation. But again, these were “odd” people, quite unlike any I met working on Long Island. Lunchtime in the other FGC’s office consisted of conversations on many interesting subjects including current events, and high-speed chess, Hearts and Bridge, and was intellectually stimulating. Food was almost always brought in from the local deli, and the last time the other FGC passed by, that same deli was still there although the present owners were the son and grandson of the previous owner. Another interesting fact that the other FGC remembered took place on the day before the first of the annual high Jewish holidays, which also happened to be shortly after the other FGC joined that firm. It was understood that Jewish employees could leave at 3 PM without penalty, but they were expected to punch out as usual. So the other FGC headed towards the time clock, expecting to see some of his fellow workers also headed towards the time clock. There was Abe getting up, but George Weinstein, Audrey Schneider and Fred Kaufman, as well as two fellows named Roth and Levy (whose first names were forgotten by the other

FGC) remained seated. Instead, Marcel was heading toward the time clock. The other FGC was really confused now. Everybody he knew from Pelham Parkway with names like Weinstein, Schneider, Kaufman, Roth and Levy was Jewish, but Marcel Sabul? This was the other FGC’s first exposure to the real world outside of Pelham Parkway. Schneider, Roth and Kaufman were of German origin, and Weinstein and Levy had no idea about their names but were quite sure there were no Jews in their backgrounds. As to Marcel, he was a French Jew. Wow. The other FGC remembers an amusing incident, although it was not so amusing at the time. One of the FGCs was an Engineering student at NYU, and the other FGC participated in road rallies with him. For those of you who do not know what a road rally is, it’s a form of race where speed is not very important but accuracy and control are. A descriptive course map is given to all participants and a unique number is prominently displayed on several places on the vehicle. The document consists of instructions such as proceed 2.8 miles at 18 miles per hour, and then proceed for another 1.7 miles at 22 miles per hour. Then make a right turn just after the large tree and proceed another 1.9 miles at 23 miles per hour. Sounds easy, right? But there are complications. The first is that one has to go through a measured mile to calibrate one’s auto odometer, but the measured mile is only 0.89 mile long, so all calculations have to be adjusted by 11 percent. One other complication was that many of the roads selected for the rally were back roads and some were actually unpaved. As a result, many owners of European cars found they lost their mufflers and other items strategically located below their low-slung beauties. One other complication is that there are spotters hidden at various points throughout the course and if one is a few seconds early or late at the spotters’ points, you are penalized. Consequently, there are two people in each car, one to drive it




(Continued from page 11) and the other to calculate when to do what and how fast to go. As an aside, the other FGC remembered an amusing incident during one of the road rallies. Instead of having a driver and a navigator, which was the usual contingent, one guy showed up in a hearse. Somehow, he was able to get an old hearse, and he set up a table and four chairs in the rear, and he had four friends sitting around the table with slide rules and stop watches and they were going to win this rally because of the overwhelming manpower. The hearse made it only to the first unpaved road when its suspension disintegrated. These particular rallies were organized by the Dean of the NYU Engineering School. His name was Ragazzini, he was a g r e a t g u y a n d a l l N Y U Engineering students knew him. Now, fast forward back to the job. The boss proudly announced one day that he had hired a degreed Electrical Engineer to join the firm. Most of the professional employees had BA or BS degrees with various majors, and the EE was sure to add a certain amount of prestige to the firm. During lunch on the first day of the EE’s presence, all employees sat with him to see what type of person he was, his interests, and personal information, which of course was not unusual at the time. He shared freely wanting to be a nice guy and accepted by his fellow workers, and announced that although he went to engineering school to satisfy his parents, he never wanted to be a design engineer, and he had really joined the firm to get a taste of what he could do with his degree aside from design work. When he stated that he went to NYU, the other FGC mentioned Dean Ragazzini as an acquaintance and wanted to know if the EE had perhaps participated in the Dean’s road rallies. Not only did the EE not participate in road rallies, but he had no idea who Dean Ragazzini was. Shortly thereafter, the other FGC went to see the boss and told him the EE was a fraud, and explained why he was stating this “fact”. The boss threw the other FGC out of his office, telling him to mind his

own business because he personally saw a copy of the EE degree. A month or so later, the firm was in line for a major contract and the boss told everyone that the customer was going to visit and interview the people who would be working on this significant seven figure contract, the largest the firm would have received to date. The boss also stated that the EE would be identified as the Program Manager because of his technical background, but others would be interviewed as key people who would assist the EE during the contract performance period. The customer arrived, and twenty minutes later left in a huff, followed by the EE who was leaving with all of his belongings. It seems he took a NYU EE degree and made a few “minor” changes to it. Too bad the boss didn’t listen to the other FGC. The other FGC also told an amusing story about an out-of-town WASP customer who was visiting the firm. When it was lunchtime, the other FGC asked the WASP where he wanted to eat or what type of food he liked. The WASP told him to pick the place because he had no preferences. So the other FGC asked the WASP if he ever had really good “kosher deli”, and when the WASP said no, but yes, he sure would like to try it. So off they went to a nice kosher deli in the garment center, where the other FGC ordered some franks with mustard, sauerkraut and relish to start with, with some delicious hand cut fresh (not frozen) French fries and Dr. Brown’s soda for the two of them. This was followed by lean corn beef sandwiches (on club bread, naturally) with extra mustard and another two orders of French fries, lots of cole slaw and some more Dr. Brown’s soda, but the piece de resistance was when the other FGC told the server to dig deep in the barrel and bring out the sourest pickles and tomatoes he could find. The other FGC told me the WASP was holding his own with the franks, fries and corned beef but the sour pickles and tomatoes really did him in. The guy’s eyes simply filled with tears and he couldn't stop “crying”. What do out of town WASPs know about kosher delis?

The next day, breakfast was bagels, lox and cream cheese, and lunch was a repeat of the previous day’s festivities, less the sour stuff for the WASP, but not the other FGC. And to this day, the WASP probably still thinks that all Jewish soul food was healthy and good for him Can any reader help me here with comments on these shticks or their comments on others? I promise to publish all responses in Part 17C. More FGC shticks will follow in future editions of the PPT. If anybody would like to add his or her own shtick involving the FGCs, please do not hesitate to send it to me. Let me know if you want to remain anonymous or would like to be identified. And, by the way, some of this stuff is 50 years old and my memory could be faulty, so if you have any comments, please do not hesitate to send them to me. I’ll run it through my available F G C c o n t a c t s a n d m a k e corrections/apologies as necessary in future editions. ——————————————

Howard (Hesh) Cohen 2137 Wallace Avenue

CCHS 1953 [email protected]

——————————————

Howard (Hesh) Cohen with two of his grandchildren,

Miles & Sofia.



The 2009 inaugural season at the new "Yankee Stadium" was indeed magical and so is my continued love and enthusiasm for the New York Yankee teams through out the years. After a drought of nine years without a World Series banner hanging from the flag pole, the Yankees finally completed "Mission 27" beating the Philadelphia Phillies in game 6. Proudly, I can say without any modesty that I was "there" for 56 out of the 81 homes games played during the regular season and the 2 pre-season games against the Chicago Cubs. In addition I attended all of the eight post season games. My total of 66 games attended (not counting minor league games seen at Yankee franchises like the Scranton Yankees) almost matches the number of years I've been a Yankee fan. My mother went into labor at Alexanders in the Bronx just a few miles from the "House that Ruth built " and I always felt that had something to do with my becoming such a passionate fan of the Bronx Bombers. I remember attending my first Yankee game in 1947 when Bucky Harris managed the Yankees. The Yankees beat the Cleveland Indians that day 2-0 with their only 2 hits being home runs by Joe DiMaggio and Yogi Berra. Those home runs were hit off future "Hall of Famer" Bob Feller. The Yankees won the world Series that year and two years later I

remember running home from school to watch the Yankees play in the World Series. In those days the games were mostly played during the daytime. Those were some of the best times in my life especially during the 5 year period 1949-1953 when the Yankees won 5 consecu t ive championships. Since that time I have witnessed three no hitters at Yankee Stadium. The first one I saw was in 1993 when Jim Abbott pitched a no hitter against the Cleveland Indians. What was remarkable was that he had a withered non throwing arm which he kept his glove on .After he would field a ball, he would make the transfer to his pitching arm and tuck his glove under his withered arm.This was an amazing accomplishment for any ball player especially a handicapped player. I witnessed another no hitter when my best f r iend Marty Lieberman (CCHS class of 57) attended a game together to watch Dwight (Doc) Gooden beat the Seattle Mariners in 1996. We both remember Bernie Williams didn't play that day, but Gerard Williams played center field and made a spectacular catch in the first inning which turned out to be the defensive play of the game which preserved the no hitter. In July 1999, I witnessed David Cone's perfect game. No batter reached first base off Cone. 27 batters came up and 27 batters made out. This game turned out to be an inspiration for me as I was scheduled for prostate cancer surgery

the following month which fortunately was successful allowing me to witnessing many more historic Yankee games and meeting and talking with Joe Torre at the Baseball Writers Annual Award dinner in 2000 to discuss our mutual experiences ("Prostate cancer and our love of the Yankees). I recently donated his book which he signed for me to a charitable foundation which I am a member of. It is my hope to make this column a regular part of the Pelham Parkway Times and allow members to comment or make observations about their experiences or answer further questions readers may have. I have and continue to be a Yankee full season ticket holder for the past 10 years and have provided many of the Pelham Parkway alumni with the opportunity to obtain tickets. ——————————————–—–

"My Yankees Museum" & Phil Rizzuto. The museum is located in the Bronx between Waring & Mace Avenues and was started in 1985 as a testimonial tribute to the past & present Yankees who had put on the pinstripes. The museum has been written up twice in the Bronx Times Reporter and since that time we have welcomed many guests to the "Museum in the House that Ray built". The museum features a very interesting collection of memorabilia, photographs and autographs from the players and managers. In addition


THE YANKEE CORNER BY RAY UNGER



(Continued from page 13) there are articles, pins, banners and baseball cards which I have collected since my childhood. I call the museum a poor man's Barry Halper collection and we enjoy sharing our stories with visitors. My idol, Phil Rizzuto signed many p ieces in the museum and acknowledged our help in getting him elected to the Hall of Fame through our grass roots petition signature campaign through the "Scooter Rooters" which I started in 1992. I organized a very successful bus trip to the "Hall of Fame" when we heard Rizzuto was to be inducted. He also personally autographed a few items which we auctioned off. The event turned out to be so successful that we had to hire an extra bus. We had 90 people attend the event and we were granted specially parking and seating privileges.

Ray Unger, Bronx Born & Bred

Yankee fan. (All of the profits from the event were donated to B.S.Troop 164 a Bronx based group for their trip to The United Kingdom, the birth place of scouting.) ————————————————–

Ray Unger 782 Pelham Parkway


—————————————–

This new section “the Yankee Corner” Is for everyone to use for any

question (s) and answer (s) on Yankee history.

I would suggest the next time you are going to be in the Bronx,

Contact Ray and make arrangements to Check out “My Yankee Museum”

in Pelham Parkway.



Known professionally as Diane King, born Diane Becker and married to Richie Fagin - so her passport reads Diane Fagin.

Diane graduated from CCHS in 1961 – one year after I did. In high school she was Annie Oakley in the senior play “Annie Get Your Gun” and then went onto Bronx Community (where we first met) and then CCNY Uptown where she again had the lead role in a musical - “Bye Bye Birdie”. After graduation Diane went on to develop a very successful singing career in show business. She recorded for major labels including Decca, MGM and Mercury and recorded an award winning children’s album. She was featured at all the top resorts in the Catskills, did many club dates and appeared on major cruise lines including the QE2 for many years. She played the main room in the Sands hotel in Atlantic City and has appeared on TV. Over a 40 year career she has entertained audiences in the thousands (including a multitude of Bronxites) and is still thrilling audiences wi th her dynamic personality and wonderful singing voice in South Florida at country clubs and condo communities where we

have been living since 1993. During her career, Diane has shared the bill with many headliners including Milton Berle Alan King, Jackie Mason, Shecky Greene, Henny Youngman, The Smothers Brothers, David Brenner, Myron Cohen, Robert Klein, Nipsy Russell, Allen & Rossi, Danny Ganz, Red Buttons, Norm Crosby, Alan Thicke and many others. I could stop here but there is an interesting story to tell (I think). The story of how we were able to blend Diane’s singing career with my business career and also raise two children (David and Stephanie). Diane’s professional career started when a college friend who was working after school for two songwriters told Diane that they were holding auditions to replace Leslie Gore. They had written the song “It’s My Party” and had a smash hit with Gore. But for whatever reason, their relationship with Gore had ended and they were looking for a new “girl singer” to record. Diane decided to go the audition on a “lark”. As soon as she started singing they were bowled over. They immediately told an 18 year old Diane they wanted to offer her a recording contract. Not knowing exactly what to make of the situation Diane said “You need to talk to my father” who was an NYC police detective. Imagine Diane’s father’s reaction who they had gotten on the phone. “Hold the presses! How much money is this gonna cost me?” Don’t sign anything!” However after a while the reality sunk in that this was a legitimate offer and Diane was signed to a five record deal. The first record was released on the Decca label. Others followed on MGM and Mercury. Unfortunately at the same time the “Payola” scandal broke. Record promotion was profoundly changed. It had become extremely difficult for an unknown to get airplay. Had the records succeeded I

probably wouldn’t be writing this story. Diane would have gone onto stardom and we would never have gotten married. But fate said “No”. Diane continued in school to get her degree, w e g o t m a r r i e d ( w i t h t h e understanding that her career would take a back seat to our family) and she became a school teacher. So how did her singing career develop? Soon after we married, an agent who had seen Diane in “Bye Bye Birdie” at CCNY had gotten our number and called to see if Diane would be interested in having an agent. At that point we said no - but kept his number. Several years later after our son David was born, Diane was no longer teaching (old fashioned values) and we decided to re-connect with the agent to see if he could get her singing jobs in the Catskills where we spent the summers anyway. He said he could and booked her into a bungalow colony in White Lake near Monticello. We had thrown together a g roup o f shor thand mus ica l arrangements of songs Diane liked.

That was the act. But because of her voice and warm personality Diane


DIANE (BECKER) KING - A PELHAM PARKWAY NOTABLE. BY RICHARD FAGIN


(Continued from page 15) wowed em’ anyway. From the first performance Diane had no stage fright. She was a natural as far as stage presence. She always did and still performs as if she is in her own living room. Other people pay small fortunes in order to learn how to move properly and relax on stage. Not Diane. After the first summer we put together a more substantial act and pretty quickly Diane graduated from bungalows to the hotel circuit – Kutcher’s, Nevele, Fallsview, The Concord etc. The Catskills was easy during the summer since there was no traveling involved and friends accompanied Diane to her shows during the week while I was working in the City. On the weekends I would go with her. After the summer things got a lot more difficult. We had to drive 100 miles each way to the Catskills to do a show. Often we would do mid-week shows which meant that I would come home from work @ 6PM, we would drive to the Catskills, do a show at 10:30 PM, drive back and get home about 1AM. Then I would get up at 7:00AM to go to work (It’s wonderful to be young).

Over time Diane developed a reputation as a top performer and offers came in that involved travel which would mean that she would be on the road alone. We declined. We only took bookings that would not separate us. As a matter of fact, except for the midweek shows in the Catskills during the summer when I was in the City, I was not with Diane on maybe 10 shows out of thousands. We did cruises only when I could take vacation time. (It was great having paid vacations and cruising to exotic ports such as Tahiti, Sydney, Tonga etc). To her credit (Some would say “Are you nuts”?) Diane had no misgivings about declining out-of-town bookings for the sake of our family relationship. (By this time our daughter Stephanie was born too.) This is another extraordinary aspect of her personality. For all her talents, her striking good looks and a knockout figure, Diane always remained down to earth! People are constantly thrown off balance when they first meet her. They expect her to be a different person, not the warm and friendly person she is. After some years I also became part of the act, Diane’s conductor. The

bandleader at Kutcher’s had said “You are always with Diane – why don’t you learn how to conduct her act? It would be very helpful on dates when she doesn’t get a played rehearsal with the band. So I did and it worked out pretty well . So well , that af ter an engagement in South Florida where I conducted an 80 piece symphony orchestra for Di, I was offered the job as permanent conductor of the orchestra! I politely declined. So over the years that’s the way it went. Diane maintained her career on a primarily local basis. I managed her bookings and became her conductor. I also developed a successful computer business (Computer World) which we sold in 1992 before moving to Florida. Our children are grown – Stephanie is a clinical psychologist practicing in NYC and David is a successful Singer-songwriter and is producing. He wrote and performs the theme song for the new CBS sitcom “Accidentally on Purpose”. (The torch has been passed). In June we celebrate our 45th wedding anniversary. ——————————————

Richard Fagin 2144 Bronx Park East

CCHS 1960 Diane Becker Fagin

3000 Bronx Park East CCHS 1961

[email protected] —————————————— Diane and The Smothers Brothers.




Mom's Turkey Meatloaf 3/4 c. quick-cooking oats. 1/2 c. nonfat milk. 1 medium onion, peeled. 2 lbs. ground turkey breast. (or ground chicken). 1/2 c. seeded and chopped red bell pepper (1/2 medium pepper). 2 large eggs, beaten. 2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce. 1/4 c. ketchup. 1/2 tsp. salt. Freshly ground black pepper. One 8-oz can (no-salt added) tomato paste. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a small bowl, stir together the oats and milk and allow to soak while you get the rest of the ingredients together, at least 3 minutes. Thinly slice one-quarter of the onion into rings and set aside. Finely chop the rest of the onion. In a large bowl, combine the turkey, oatmeal mixture, chopped onion, bell pepper, eggs, Worcestershire, ketchup, salt and a few grinds of pepper. Mix just until well combined. Transfer the mixture into a 9 x 13 inch baking dish and shape into a loaf about 5 inches wide and 2 inches high. Pour the tomato sauce over the meatloaf and sprinkle with the sliced onions. Bake until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part registers 160 degrees, about 1 hour. Remove from the oven and let rest for 10-15 minutes before slicing.

Serves 8. ————————————————–

RECIPE COLUMN!

Warren Mintz Before and After — Underwater Escape Page 18

The “Cooler” Our Pelham Theater.

In the early 1950’s — There were 2 theaters in Pelham Parkway The Globe and the Pelham. Most of the children packed both theaters on Saturday and Sunday. In the summer time we received our first taste of “Air-Conditioning”.

Thanks to A/C we found an escape from the heat. I think this “way of life” may be responsible for getting a good nights sleep and extending our lives.

Think about it, the next time you have a power failure in the summer time...



(These excerpts are part of an attempt to capture some of the memories of working in a resort hotel. The summer job lasted for about ten weeks, three meals a day. The earnings went to pay for college. The time is the late fifties.)

During the third day of preparing the hotel for the season the maitre d' called me aside and made me an offer. He said that he had an opening for a waiter and he asked me whether I would rather be a waiter than a busboy. I told him that I would rather be a waiter. He told me that there was an opening for a waiter to the staff. In order to understand what I was be ing of fered i t i s best to conceptualize the staff as divided into three categories. The top category includes the manager of the hotel, the heads of the major departments, and people like the residential comedian, the band leader, the dance instructor, and the golf pro. One of the signs of the importance of the people in this category is the fact that they eat their meals in the main dining room as if they were a guest of the hotel. The lowest category is made up by people like waiters, waitresses, busboys, bellhops, and chamber maids who serve themselves from food left over from the food prepared for the guests in the main dining room. People in this

category eat in a dining area called "the zoo". But there is also a middle category, not high enough for the guest dining room nor low enough for the zoo. This category is made up of such people as the members of the band, those who work at the front

desk, or behind the scenes in the administrative offices, those who work in the bar, the athletic staff, and those who supervise the pool. I was being offered a chance to become the waiter for this middle group. To sweeten the offer the maitre d' told me that I would never have a slow week because the number of my guests would be constant and guaranteed. According to the maitre d', if I worked in the main dining room I would always be vulnerable to the weekly fluctuations of the season. The weekly tips of each of the staff would be about half as much as the ordinary tip in the main dining room but I would make up for any loss because I would serve twice as many people. In the main dining room a station that had twenty guests would be considered full. In the staff dining room I would be serving forty guests each and every week. There were other sweeteners. Because the staff was fed before the main dining room was opened to the

guests I would be the only one working therefore I would not have to wait behind others to have my orders filled. Another sweetener would be that the busboy and I would eat our meals from the guest menu. Because we were working while the dining room staff was eating we would have to postpone our meals until we were finished serving. In other words, we were being given a chance to eat from the guest menu and not from the food served in the zoo. I accepted the job. I soon discovered that in order to wait on tables a person has to be organized. Even in the best of times, meals are prepared and served in, what can be described as, a controlled frenzy. In order not to become swamped or swept away you have to know what you are doing in both the dining room and the kitchen. During the busiest part of a meal one trip to the kitchen can include stops for juice, salad, dessert, soup, and main dishes. On almost every trip to the kitchen a decision must be made about the


UNDERWATER ESCAPE BY WARREN MINTZ



(Continued from page 18) order in which the food is to be collected. The least difficulty attaches to food that is to be eaten at room temperature. Such food is picked up on entering the kitchen and it remains on the tray while the more problematic food is gathered. Increased difficulty attaches to food that is to be eaten either hotter or colder than room temperature, for example, a hot main dish or a cold dessert. Because desserts and main dishes are picked up in different sections of the kitchen a question arises as to which is to be picked up first and thereby remain longest on the tray. During the busiest hour of a meal a resort hotel serves several hundred people. Because the flow of activity changes throughout the meal there are no hard and fast rules. Whoever is working must stay responsive to the ever changing rhythms and patterns of a meal. It makes sense to check the activity when entering the kitchen, and to check guests when entering the dining room. It wasn't until I learned to recognize and function in a variety of patterns that I could move through a kitchen with reasonable efficiency, conserving both time and energy. After a while I developed an understanding of the work but it didn't start out that way. When I first started I was overwhelmed by the work and depressed by my shortcomings. People showed up for the meal in groups and I didn't know who to serve first. Meal orders were written on slips and I didn't know how to organize the different slips and keep the orders from getting confused. When I entered the kitchen I didn't have a plan of how to gather the food. When I got back to the dining room I faced the extra pressure of dealing with hungry people who were in the midst of their work day and who had only a limited amount of time for their meal. When a meal was finally over I would bring out food for me and the busboy. We ate slowly in what might be described as a state of depression. We didn't talk much. One reason for this was our need to recover from the stress of the meal. Another reason

was to postpone for as long as possible the cleaning up from the present meal and the setting up for the next meal. After each meal I became depressed to the extent that I would still be involved with breakfast until about a half hour before lunch, I would still be involved with lunch until about an hour before dinner, and I would still be cleaning up from dinner and setting the table for breakfast at eleven o'clock at night. At the end of every meal I was the last to leave the dining room. I remember going to bed at night and keeping myself awake so as to experience a time in which I wasn't working. The first week I was close to drowning in a combination of ignorance and self pity. I knew that if I was going to survive I would have to come up with a system. The staff ate its meals in its own dining room separate from the main dining room. To get to it a person went through the main dining room, out a door, and into a separate room. The staff dining room was the station furthest away from the kitchen. If there were any advantages to the staff dining room they lay in the fact that it had a separate sink and that what went on inside the dining room was mostly out of the sight of the maitre d'. It was clear that in order to survive I had to take advantage of what I had been given. As it turned out the most important component of the emerging system was the sink and its capacity for holding water. The busboy and I filled it with ice and, depending on the meal, stocked it with a variety of juices, melons, condiments, cold soups, or desserts. I came to the realization that the beginning of a meal when a person has arrived at the table, hungry, anticipating food, but not yet eating is its most important and sensitive time. As soon as a person has put something into their mouth the meal is underway and any delay after that is not experienced with as much frustration. Items like juice, melon, condiments, and butter could be set up beforehand and kept fresh on the ice. On each table there would also be a basket of rolls. Everyone could start eating soon after they sat down.

Nobody would have to sit watching the others eat while worrying about the time left before returning to work. The ice in the sink and the options which it opened relieved a lot of the pressure and gave me the room I needed to learn the job. It wasn't long before the busboy and my working hours became similar to those of everyone else. I had two hours off between breakfast and lunch. In the afternoon there was time to go swimming and play softball. At night there was time to carouse. During our own meal times the busboy and I would join people who were still eating and it gave us a chance to interact with many interesting people. Because they came late to meals, we often ate our meals with Bob and Ted who worked as part of the athletic staff. They earned most of their tips by providing guests at the pool with towels and chaise lounges and by distributing athletic equipment for all of the other sports. The manager of the hotel told Ted and Bob to organize an afternoon of entertainment centered on activities at the pool. They were not surprised at

the request because it was part of their job description. In fact, they were looking forward to the afternoon. They were both struggling actors and the entertainment aspect of their job gave them a chance to perform. They also anticipated that the show would increase their visibility which could be parlayed into increased tips. When they publicized the show they included




(Continued from page 19) the astounding announcement that the highlight of the afternoon would be an underwater escape trick performed by Ted. We were eating lunch together on the day of the announcement and I asked Ted about the underwater escape. He told me that it would be spectacular. It would start with him standing on the low diving board while Bob wrapped him in chains. A special chain would be tied around his ankles and ten pounds of weight would be attached to that chain. This additional weight would keep him on the bottom of the pool and would give him time he needed to work himself free. He was especially proud of the fact that he would do the escape in full view of the audience who would be able to watch him from the sides of the pool while he was underwater. I asked him where he had learned to do such an escape. He told me that this was the first time that he was doing the escape but he described it as," a piece of cake". The day of the show arrived. There were contests and races, there were demonstrations of serious dives and there were outrageous dives that were made part of a comedy routine. Everything was going well and the show was building towards the grand finale of the underwater escape. Ted walked out on the low diving board with Bob following him carrying the chains. Ted told the audience to watch the wrapping carefully so that they could see for themselves that there was no deception. I figured that the key to the escape had to be in the wrapping and I watched closely looking for the trick. I didn't see anything strange unless it was the fact that Ted spun himself around in such a way as to pull the chain even more tightly around his body. A small chain was wrapped around one ankle, passed through the hole in a ten pound weight and wrapped around to the other ankle. Ted exuded the confidence of Houdini. He waddled to the end of the diving board and stood quietly filling his lungs for the upcoming challenge. Then he stepped off the board and went straight to the bottom. The pool was ringed with

guests and staff and the escape was in plain sight. Ted was in an upright posture when he hit the bottom of the pool and he went right to work freeing himself. His body twisted and bent first in one direction than another. I was looking for signs of the chain becoming loose but there were none to be seen. He kept moving but there was no sign that he was escaping. The moving stopped and he looked up to the surface. All of us who could see his face became agitated. Was this part of the act or was he drowning! He exuded such confidence when he was standing on the diving board that it was hard to believe that he didn't know what he was doing. But we had the evidence of our eyes. By this time he was no longer moving. He was just looking up towards the surface of the pool. We were shouting to one another trying to figure out what to do. It was beyond belief that anyone would be stupid enough to do an underwater escape and have no idea how to do it. Luckily for Ted we trusted our eyes that were telling us that he was drowning. A few of us jumped into the pool and pushed and pulled him to the surface. Others standing on the edge of the pool grabbed him by the chain and pulled him out. He gulped in the air while we freed him from the chain. That night at dinner we had a chance to talk. I asked him what possessed him to believe that he could perform the trick? He answered that once he was underwater he thought the escape would come easily. He said that it had never occurred to him that he might die. I asked him if he regretted his decision to perform? He told me that he would do it again. He pointed out that his friends were there to rescue him if anything went wrong and that his near drowning was the most spectacular event of the day. An important lesson that had to be learned was how to pace the season so as to sustain the effort through Labor Day. The hotel served three meals a day seven days a week in a season that lasted for ten weeks. There were no days off. A person who

did not pace the work through July would be likely to be in difficulty during August. We were young and strong and there was some leeway but the work was a task master with demands that had to be recognized and respected. For example, the dining room was air conditioned and the kitchen was not. People who spent all their time in the kitchen worked in an environment of great heat. They sweated profusely and replaced the liquids which they lost by constantly drinking. Sometime the liquid they drank was beer and working with a drunken cook is part of the folklore of all who have worked in hotels. But here the issue deals with the fact that the heat in the kitchen is constant and once the workers have made their adjustment they are not asked to keep readjusting. In a similar fashion, people who spend their working time in the air conditioned dining room adapt to that temperature. Not so for the waiters, waitresses and busboys who go from the heat of the kitchen to the cool of the dining room and repeat the transition over and over again t h r o ug h o u t t h e m e a l . E ac h temperature change, from the heat to the cool or from the cool to the heat is a shock to the system. Not a big blow, but enough of a shock so that after five or six weeks the drain takes it toll. Even healthy people begin to loose their energy. To work for a complete season a person needs to learn how to replenish energy while working. The frame of reference for approaching the work is like the preparation of those preparing for a marathon rather than a dash. You have to make sure that as the season unfolds you eat well and that you get enough rest. If you burn the candle at both ends there is a good chance that you won't make it through August. The work provides many opportunities for burning the candle. This is no surprise when you consider how many attractive and bright people are working together in close and intimate proximity. In addition to the staff there are guests who arrive at the hotel packing “candles” of their own. But there was




(Continued from page 20) an underlying lesson of pacing and balance that had to be learned and there was a stiff price to be paid by those who didn't honor the lesson. Throughout the time I spent in hotels I met many people who actually worked in show business, like the members of the band or the dance instructors, or who wanted to work in show business, like the guys who took the summer job at the pool while preparing themselves for tryouts and the possibility of a big break. I got a chance to see the world of show business more in terms of its work than its glamour. One of the people I saw quite often was the house comedian. I didn't get to know him from the staff dining room because he took his meals in the main dining room with the guests. It would have made sense if he ate his meals in the staff dining room because he worked during dinner hours going from table to table telling jokes. Had he eaten earlier he could have spent all of the mealtime going from one table to another. But a certain amount of prestige attached to eating in the main dining room and he was willing to pay the price of continually interrupting his meal in order to gather that prestige. I didn't observe him up close as his waiter and as a sometime mealtime companion. What I saw of him I observed in the bar and in the nightclub because several nights a week I worked as a bar waiter in order to earn extra money. All day long the comedian interacted with the guests as part of one constant performance. At one time of the day he performed at the pool as he told jokes from one group to another. At other times he led the guests in a game of Simple Simon telling jokes along with the game commands. During lunch and dinner he performed in the dining room. In a way, all of what he did during the day could be understood as preparation for the big performance in the evening at the nightclub. When I worked in the bar I saw the following scenario repeated time after time. When I arrived for work the comedian would be drinking at the

bar. He would be telling the bartender that he wasn't going to work that night. The bartender never questioned the

announcement. Sometime during the evening the phone would ring and it would be the manager calling to remind the comedian about the show. The comedian would tell the manager that he didn't feel well enough to work. I couldn't hear the manager's end of the conversation but whatever he said it seemed to satisfy the comedian. I found out from the bartender that the manager said that the comedian would not have to work if he didn't feel well enough. After the phone call the comedian told the bartender that he wasn't going to work that night and he ordered another drink. Just before show time another phone call came from the manager. When the comedian told him that he didn't feel well enough to work the manager asked, as a favor to him, that the comedian put in an appearance. The manager said that he only had to stay on the stage for a few minutes, just enough of an appearance to quiet the guests who were asking for him. The comedian got up from his stool telling the bar tender not to touch the drink because he would be right back to finish it. Two hours later the comedian would still be performing. Once he established a momentum one routine led into the next. By the end of the evening he didn't want to leave the

stage. I've often thought about the comedian and the preparation routine in which everybody knew their part.

He seemed to be terrified of what was waiting for him on the stage. I think that a lot of the terror was due to the fact that the audience, which is a vital part of the act, changes from night to night. The audience can be primed for the show during the day and can arrive at the night club in a reasonably receptive frame of mind. But there is always an unknown component that attaches to the audience. I think the worst nightmare of a comedian is that the response of the audience would paralyze his mind to the extent that it could not make the appropriate, free wheeling connections that bring the humor to the show. Once he knew that his mind was functioning and that the audience would not be his enemy he could work all night recharging his energy as he worked. Because I worked in the bar before the start of the show I was given a special opportunity to observe him before that exchange took place. I got a glimpse of the way he had to reach deeply into the depths of his apprehension in order to get himself ready for work. During the time I worked in hotels I learned things about the combination of frailty and resiliency that makeup a person's identity. Once I worked with a man who, for a short period of time,




(Continued from page 21) was famous. He spent some of the rewards of his fame in Las Vegas where on one night he gambled and lost more money than most people

earn in a year. When I knew him he was no longer famous and was earning his money from the tips he received when he provided towels and lounge chairs for guests at the pool. He often spoke of the night when he lost the large amount of money. Whenever he was short of cash he would make a withdrawal from that memory bank, which means that he not only lost the money once but, like Prometheus, he kept suffering its loss over and over. Years later I heard that the hotel had burned down and seventeen years ago, when my son and I were on a camping trip, we took a detour and visited the site where the hotel once stood. It was gone but you could still see the foundation. Recently I

returned to the site of the hotel. This time I could not see even the remains of the hotel. There is a growth of scrub trees that look like they are growing on what was the site of the hotel but I

cannot be sure. I sat quietly for a while aware of the fact that now the hotel exists mostly in my mind and also in the minds of others who have recollections of it. My memory turns to a waitress from the University of Chicago who in 1956 was aware enough of the movement of world history to study Chinese and who startled two Chinese salad men when she told them in Chinese to clean up their language when they spoke about the waitresses ....I thought of the bar waitress who worked late on Saturday night and who came for breakfast on Sunday mornings just before I was closing. We ate our breakfast together and she shared with me the pleasure of doing the Sunday crossword puzzle. I remembered Bob, Ted's

partner, the one who wrapped him in the chains for the underwater escape, and the way he knew and loved to perform all of the recorded routines of Lenny Bruce... I recognize that

throughout life a person moves in and out of situations which have the capacity to overwhelm and in which “drowning” becomes a real possibility. When faced with such a challenge a person confronts it by calling upon their storehouse of life experience. When I find myself in over my head much of what I call upon to get me back to more solid land comes from that part of my identity which was formed during the years in which I worked at the hotel.

Warren Mintz 2176 Muliner Avenue


——————————————

Flagler Hotel, South Fallsburg in the early 1950’s

See the changes that have taken

place in the Catskills. - Page 24



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January 28

Happy Birthday Arthur Cohen



Talk about Change! Sixty years ago there was a place

know as the Catskills.

There was so many places to go to and now they are gone!

Famous Defunct Catskills Hotels:

The Aladdin The Alpine The Ambassador The Arrowhead Lodge The Avon Lodge (House of Joy) Blackman's Block's The Blue Eagle The Breeze Lawn The Breezy Corners Brickman's The Brookside Brown's The Campbell Inn The Capitol The Catskill Mountain House Chait's (Su Casa) Chester's The Columbia The Commodore The Concord The Delano The Delmar The Echo The Eldorado (Zeiger's) The Elm Shade The Esther Manor The Evans The Fairmont The Ferndale Villa The Fieldston The Flagler The Flamingo Gibber's The Gilbert's Goldberg's The Grand The Grand Mountain The Granit The Greenwood Inn Grossinger's The Heiden The Homowack Lodge The Horseshoe Lake House The Hotel Glass The Hotel Israel The Hotel Kaaterskill The Hotel Levitt (Senator) The Hotel Wawonda The Irvington

The Karmel (now Stagedoor Manor) The Kenmore Klein's Hillside The Lake House The Laurel House The Laurel Park The Laurels Country Club The Leroy The Lexington The Loch Sheldrake Inn The Majestic The Mayfair The Melbourne The Monticello Inn The Morningside The Mountain Lake The Murray Hill The Morningside The Mount Meenagha The Nasso The National The Nemerson The Nevele The New Brighton The New Edgewood The New Kensington The Normandie The Oliver Hill The Olympic The Overlook The Overlook Mountain House The Palace The Paramount The Parkston Pauls The Pine Grove The Pine Tree Villa The Pine View (Leibowitz's) The Pines The Pioneer Country Club The Plaza Pollack's Fallsburg Country Club The President The Raleigh The Richmond The River View The Rosemont Lodge The Rosenblatt The Roxy (New Roxy, Green Acres) Rubin's Maple View The Sackett Lake Lodge The Savoy The Saxony Schenk's (Schenk's Paramount) The Seven Gables The Sha-wan-ga Lodge The Shady Nook Shagrin's

The Shawangunk Country Club The South Wind Resort The Sugar Maples The Summit The Sunnyland The Swan Lake The Swannanoa The Tamarack Lodge The Tannersville Inn The Tansville The Tremper Inn The Trojan Lake Lodge The Upper Ferndale Country Club The Victoria Mansion The Waldemere The Waldheim The Wayside Inn The West End Country Club The White House Lodge The White Lake Mansion House The White Roe (singles resort) The Windsor The Wyndmere The Yama Farms Inn Ye Lancashire Inn The Young's Gap Zalkins

So how many stories do you have

about “the Catskills”

Would you like to share them?

How about the pictures you have

from those wonderful days at

the pools? Please send

them in today!

Thanks Chuck & Howie



POEMS (NEW COLUMN) WINTER WOODS

I ran one day through winter woods. Dry leaves covered the ground, crackling beneath my running shoes; I heard no other sound. Shards of sunlight pierced the trees -- golden arrows from Cupid’s bow, And on a verdant hill ahead the trees appeared to glow. On that far hill awash with light a silhouette took shape of a man in perfect archer’s stance; I watched, my mouth agape. I reached the hill, climbed to the top, so curious was I. And there he stood, a half-clad man, a banquet to my eye. A light around his presence glowed, though mortal he appeared to be. His movements caused the wind to sing; I trembled when he looked at me. Now I’d know Cupid anywhere but no winged cherub did I see; And this perfect sculpted god-like man most certainly wasn’t he. So stunned was I, no words came forth my mouth felt filled with sand. Struck dumb, I lowered my eyes to find a sunbeam in my hand. He plucked the sunbeam from my hand, and with no malice I could see, He threaded it in a twisted bow , then aimed it straight at me.

With eyes tight closed I stood tall and proud like St. Joan at the stake. I told myself “If this is a dream, now is the time to wake”. And wake I did to chilling wind, leaves swirling all around; No man, no cupid, no golden glow only me upon the ground. Darkness had begun to fall; where the time went I don’t know. I looked around, and against a tree I saw – the twisted bow Cautiously I picked it up and held it close to me; The chill wind stopped, the air grew still and warmth washed over me Some months have passed since that day and I notice more and more Real beauty in the simplest things I hadn’t seen before. I believe in this frenetic world there is more love than hate And hope it’s true that good things come to those of us who wait. This tale won’t be believed by some though every word is so, For in my dreams there is no end to the places I can go. So I run each day in the winter woods looking for that man, And chasing sunbeams with a child’s hope to hold one in my hand.

By Judy Rosenblatt Barrat copyright© November, 2010

I hope you enjoyed this poem by Judi, we thought you would. We also invite you to send us all those poems you have written over the years. What have you got to lose?



Every time we receive another copy of the Pelham Parkway Times, I read the variety of stories about growing up in Pelham Parkway. I look for the names of people I grew up with, but usually find nothing. It’s almost like my graduating class, while huge, represented a group with little or nothing to say. Which when we look at the sixties, we become acutely aware of the social revolution that took place across America if not the world. So I ask where are these voices? Nostalgia speaks of the fond memories of “better times,” two-cent plain, penny candies and the three hundred neighbors who all knew your names and probably your business. I can still remember my mother talking with her friends and all the gossip that she could speak of regarding everyone who lived on our block. In reflection, fond memories can be coupled with the catty remarks and the references that if spoken in front of those people would be hurtful. I still remember girls in Mr. Alterman’s class speaking about so and so’s (I’m leaving out the name to avoid embarrassment) engagement ring being too small or the wrong color rather than the fact that their friend was happy at the prospects of the future. However; what did they know, they were only seventeen. So one really has to ponder the question, “If Pelham Parkway was so wonderful, why did we move away? Why have so many of us chosen life on Long Island, Westchester, Nyack, Florida and in my case California as an alternative to paradise? The answer is actually quite simple who would choose to go back to Columbus High School which served us well but is now considered one of the least safest schools in NYC? Who would choose to live in run down buildings that now house a less homogeneous population? Fortunately, we do not live in the past; we just remember the happy memories. I believe that we sometimes see

that in the midst of chaos of NYC, Pelham Parkway seemed like a haven. We derived comfort from our close circle of friends who helped us weather the speed bumps of growing up. My close circle of friends Barry Schorr, Ricky Ohayon , Jeff Reichenthal, Paul Schneck, Marty Afromowitz and Eric Lipes) helped each other weather the pains of puberty. If nothing else, we commiserated with each other about the difficulty of maturing. We pondered what it took to go out with a girl. Recently, my dear friend, Jeff Reichenthal, passed away from cancer. Before Jeff left us, all the brothers met at my home in California for a reunion. During the hours of conversation that followed, Jeff re-flected back on the girl who lived across from him, Sue Bublitsky, and asked if I remembered her name. He recalled seeing her on the street and exchanging glances of interest. Interestingly enough, at this stage in his life this was a fond memory. Marty and I went to Jeff’s memorial service and remembered Jeff’s eccentricity and his moments of glory like being in his junior high school’s production of the Mikado or appearing with the Fumbling Four’s excursion on to the stage at Hunter College at a hootenanny. In reality, those types of support systems exist everywhere; we just thought we were special. After graduating Hunter College, before it was Lehman, I took a teaching position in the South Bronx. If one wants to see chaos and resiliency in children, visit neighborhoods where families endure extreme hardships and kids live amongst crime and drugs on a regular basis. Even amidst this chaos, kids manage to succeed. Their support systems such as friends and extended families let them make it through some of the worst living conditions. With all these references to the “Good old days,” I say I am not so

sure I want to go back. Sure we did not have Al-Qaeda but we had people who set off subway bombs (or have we forgotten the mad bomber), Son of Sam, etc. I do not look with affection at the Fordham Baldies or Golden Guineas who might have been considered urban terrorists in their time. I remember some of the dirt bags who hung out at our schools shaking down students and were also probably responsible for the ripping off of your dad’s Chevrolet car emblem so it could be jewelry on their garrison belt. Who knew that when Happy Days became a show, being a thug was considered cool? Our parents truly wanted us to do better than they did. They put a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and clothes on our backs. They modeled work ethics and valued education, and said if you work hard; the world is your oyster. In many cases, we were not allowed to eat oysters. The city provided free education including college. The true result of this is that most of us became productive citizens and ventured into the suburbs or further and a better life. We took from Pelham Parkway the values that have preserved us through life. As I look at my children, I am amazed that they too have most of the friends they had while growing up. My daughter, Jordana, constantly reminds me of what is going on in each of her friends’ lives while I try to remember which one she’s talking about. My son, Ari, (Yes, we got the names from Exodus) who lives in Hollywood refers to all of the friends who he too has maintained from his early days. They both see their old friend often and catch up on life just like the there was never any time or distance between them. The old neighborhood provided convenience. We didn’t have to drive fifteen miles to the mall to shop in Olinsky's or Shopwell’s. We could go to Hoenig's instead of Costco, and it


PELHAM PARKWAY VS. THE AMERICAN DREAM BY BILLY SCHNEIDERMAN



(Continued from page 26) was close. More importantly, Columbus (and other non-subway schools) provided any number of opportunities for us to socialize. I can remember the skating parties; these were cool because all you needed to know was how to skate. What kid in Pelham Parkway did not know how to skate? Columbus used to have skating parties at the rink on Jerome Avenue. I remember attending this at least on one occasion with my buddies Barry Schorr, Howie Peskin and Bobby Friedman. This was a no brainer. All you needed to do was to see which young lady was not skating and say “hey wanna skate.” It was a dream come true. It gave me a chance to skate with Ellie Reuben. Convenience is also the girl next door. Unlike the kids who lived in the apartment buildings, I lived in a private residential neighborhood east of Williamsbridge Road. It’s a little more difficult to be social when no one lives near you. Of course, religion interfered with your ability to become too friendly with kids on the block, when your parents constantly reminded you that you needed to only go out with girls of your own religion. Although, I liked my next door neighbor Lynn Hinton and her friend Susie Custance, they were out of bounds. As life would have it, my neighbor Leslie Meyers saved the day. She met all the qualifications and

for a while life was good. I suspect with education comes worldliness. As we broaden our horizons, we venture to far away places. For some people, the Promised Land is Miami Beach or Pelham Parkway twice removed. For me, it was a choice to take a fellowship and teach in Sao Paulo or move to California. John Lennon once said, “Life is what happens while you are busy making plans.” While I often wondered what life would have been like if I taken another path like asking Ellie for a date or wonder whatever happened to Madeline Grow, Wendy Donn or Sue Gorell. I wouldn’t change my life for a minute. Pelham Parkway was a foundation for who I am. You cannot really go back. You can remember fondly and know that I am sure glad that waking up in the second floor hall completely naked during regents’ exams was only a bad dream and all my memories of skating in the rink on Jerome Avenue or playing music on the stage at Hunter College was real. The American Dream is what we pursue; Pelham Parkway is what we remember.

Billy (y) Schneiderman 1120 Mace Avenue


——————————————

So when was the last time you visited the Bronx Zoo?

When we were growing up people would come from all over the world, funny many people who lived just a

couple of blocks from the zoo, never went to see it.

Today, The Bronx Zoo is expanding and really is something to see! Forget about what you thought zoos were, and imagine what you think they should be!

A former Bronxite, Lew Egol, can give you an opportunity that just wasn’t available when we were kids!

A chance to tour the zoo and see what goes on “behind” the scenes!

Call Lew to see the Zoo —– (914) 739-0554

June 1962 Columbus Prom at the Waldorf.

Carole Simon & Billy Schneiderman



Reprinted story from 12/17/09 This story was printed in “The Jewish Week” and written by Adam Dickter. With his permission we decided to print this story. When Yitzchak Gross had an

unplanned day off from Ramaz High School last week, he stopped for a slice of kosher pizza on the way back to his home in the Pelham Parkway section of the Bronx — something that would have been impossible just six months ago. Still hauling his school backpack, Gross, 17, found himself at Moishy’s, where everyone knows his name, immediate seating is always available and there’s rarely a line at the counter. The small storefront shop on Lydig Avenue in the shadow of the elevated No. 6 on the IRT line is likely the only kosher venue for miles around, and the closest thing this Bronx area has to a Jewish community center. Opened in August by a former kollel student from Queens, Moishy’s now sells pizza, falafel, knishes, soups and hope. “Having this store means a homebound person can send their

attendant for a kosher meal,” said David Edelstein, director of the Jewish Community Council of Pelham Parkway. “A lonely single person can come in a have a meal in a friendly setting. The presence on this block m ak e s e v e r yo n e f e e l m o r e comfortable about the Jewish community and its solidarity.” In what one local rabbi calls the “last stand” in an attempt to revive the neighborhood’s Jewish character, the presence of Moishy’s comes at a time when the local Young Israel, which is currently without a spiritual leader, is offering subsidies for young couples to move into the area. “We’ll pay the rent for new couples for the first five years,” said Teddy Held, vice president of the 55-member Young Israel of Pelham Parkway. Alex Remer, a stay-at-home father currently living with his wife, Karen, a public school teacher, and two young children in Fort Lee, N.J., said he is considering taking the offer. “They still have a vital Jewish community with a lot of infrastructure,” he said. “We’re interested in contributing to communal efforts.” After selling its property to the city for a new school, the Young Israel is moving to smaller quarters and using the profit to offer the financial incentives. “People don’t realize that the Bronx is full of work,” said Held, who is in the import business. “There are a lot of hospitals in the area and we’re giving away medical jobs to people from other places.” Forty years ago, the postwar immigrant and baby booms were in full swing along Pelham Parkway, and the Jewish ranks swelled to some 60,000, with all the infrastructure that went w i t h i t , i n c l u d i n g k o s h e r establishments. “There used to be five or six delis,” said Ronald Rosenbaum, a retired postal supervisor. He has lived in the area since the 1960s and stops

by Moishy’s every morning for coffee and a snack and some quiet, crossword puzzle time. “It would be nice if they had a deli again.” Today, the Pelham Jewish population stands at some 7,000 souls, most of them elderly or Russian immigrants, or both, and few with the means to live elsewhere. Last year, the JCC gave out $75,000 in direct cash assistance, and its food pantry is the fourth busiest in the Bronx. The most recent statistics on Jewish poverty in the New York area, compiled by UJA-Federation in 2004, estimated that 1,500 people, or about a quarter of the Jewish population in Pelham Parkway and nearby Co-Op City, were living in poverty. The 2000 U.S. census found that the Jewish population in the Bronx declined by 40 percent in the ‘90s, while it grew by the same number in nearby Westchester, giving an indication where some of those with means may have gone. But one effect of the diminishing Pelham Parkway Jewish community is a sense of common cause and a small-town feeling. “I love it here,” said Gross, whose parents moved to Pelham Parkway after growing up in nearby Mosholu. “Even though it’s small, everything is close and everyone knows each other.” On a rainy day when class at Ramaz was cancelled because of a virus outbreak, Gross shared a table with Held, a Pelham Parkway native who recently moved to Woodmere, L.I., but still has a home in his old neighborhood and spends at least two weekends a month there. “I bring speakers in every other week,” he said, while polishing off a plate of scrambled eggs. “We’re going to make a mini-Aish HaTorah.” He said Yeshiva University rabbinical students were filling in until a rabbi can be found to replace one that left


STORY FROM “THE JEWISH WEEK” BY ADAM DICTER



(Continued from page 28) last year, pursuing a better offer in Brooklyn. As the lunch crowd trickled in, owner Moshe Isrealashvil l i , a Queens-born son of Georgian immigrants, knew all his regulars by name and chatted comfortably with them as he and an assistant filled their orders. The fare is mostly fast food, but there are some groceries — cakes and challahs, grape juice, yogurts and smoked whitefish “chubs” — in the display case. The local Jewish community has more than just an emotional stake in Moishy’s. The council, a subsidiary of the Bronx Jewish Community Council, gave Isrealashvilli some of the seed money to get started, takes out occasional advertisements on his behalf, and urges local elected officials, like Borough President Ruben Diaz Jr., to order food at Moishy’s for Jewish celebrations, like Chanukah parties. “The borough president is very menschy to me,” said Israelashvilli. But even with the nearest kosher estab l ishment mi les away in Riverdale, it’s rough going. “I have a monopoly,” he said. “You’d think I’d be doing better, but it’s not working to my benefit.” While he fills frequent orders for students and faculty at nearby Albert Einstein Medical School, it’s not in proportion to the number of observant students there. “People don’t like to leave their daled amos,” he said, referring to a Talmudic measurement of four cubits. The clientele is mostly within a few blocks. “There are still a few frum families who care about kosher food,” he said. Nathan Crystal, 62, a retired postman who stopped for a take-out order of pea soup and a tuna sandwich said he’s been living in the neighborhood since 1965, a block or two from Lydig Avenue. “This is practically the only way to get anything kosher,” he said. “If my parents were alive today they would probably have to eat non-kosher.” But Crystal added that the quality of Moishy’s food was “just like Borough Park or Flatbush.”

Sruli, 44, an optometrist from Hillcrest, Queens, who works on nearby White Plains Road, and preferred not to give his last name, said he’s a regular for his preferred salmon croquettes and sweet potato lunch special. While no one expects a return to the neighborhood’s former glory, the remaining residents want to at least stop the deterioration. “I feel connected to the Holocaust survivors here, to the people who have needs for food and clothing,” said Held, who visits his old neighborhood several times a week. Rabbi Moshe Fuchs has a similar relationship with Congregation Sons of Israel on Cruger Avenue. Although he lives in Far Rockaway, the rabbi has kept a nearly 30-year-old promise to his father, Rabbi Jekuthiel Fuchs, who d ied in 1982, to keep the congregation’s doors open after his passing. “The Jewish community has been in constant decline since then,” said Rabbi Fuchs, who counts about 75 regulars, but no dues-paying members in the congregation. Edelstein, who came to Pelham Parkway from Queens in 1977 because he wanted to run a Jewish community council, works out of an aging office on the ground floor of an apartment building down the block from Moishy’s. On a budget of $305,000 cobbled together from public grants and funds raised by his council and the Metropolitan Council on Jewish Poverty, the council helps some 50 to 60 Russian families each week, and gives out some $150,000 in food assistance. “The community was much stronger when we got here,” said Edelstein. “We’ve lost them to the three M’s: moving, Miami and the melech hamaves [angel of death].” He said the council operates under the principle that no matter how small the Jewish population gets, “Every Jew needs and desires to be surrounded by services and resources for Jewish life that make you feel like part of Klal Yisrael.” Rosenbaum, 75, the retired postal supervisor, has been living in the neighborhood since 1969. “I don’t

have the financial means to move,” he said. “But still, I like it here. With the subway it’s easy to get to Manhattan.” He started coming to Moishy’s when his regular haunt, a diner around the corner, closed, and likes the friendly atmosphere. “It’s definitely a challenge having a kosher store in this neighborhood,” said Israelashvilli, who left Queens to spend a post-marriage year learning in Israel. Three children later, he and his wife, Florence, a native of the Kingsbridge section of the Bronx, returned to New York and accepted an invitation from her mother to stay with her in the Bronx. L o o k i n g f o r a b u s i n e s s opportunity, he took over what was formerly a kosher take-out store, redecorated to allow more seating and revamped the menu to fast food. He had learned about the food business as a kid when he worked with caterers. As she placed chunks of pizza into the mouth of their youngest son, 13-month-old Aaron, Florence Israelashvilli said she wishes there was more of a Jewish community for her three children (the others are 4 and 3), who go to Yeshiva Ohel Simcha in Flushing, Queens. “But they’re in school most of the time, so it doesn’t matter that much,” she said. Rabbi Fuchs of Sons of Israel said he admires Israelashvilli “for trying to revive the Jewish taste on Lydig Avenue. It’s a last stand.” But although he’s happy to help in the neighborhood’s continuity battle, Israelashvilli says he’s not out to make a point, just a living. “I’m just trying to put bread on the table,” he says, “not to be a hero.

To all our readers Now you can come home

and Visit Moishy’s

——————————— Let’s have our next

Bronx Brunch Bunch At Moishy’s



Here is a list of those that like to participate in the listed categories. We like to call them “Hobbies” So if you have a special hobby, let us know and we will include you in, the next time we publish the list! —————————–————

Amateur Radio Lovitch, Alan Witkin, Ken ————————————————— Art Davis, Howard Fineberg, Renee Grieco, (McBride) Lillian Rubin, Harvey Skolsky, David J ————————————————–

Baby Sitting Cohen, Howard R. ————————————————– Baseball Kingsley, Tom

———————————————— Basketball Beyer, Barry Rosenblatt, Peter

———————————————— Belly Dancing Simon, (Shapiro) Joan ————————————————– Boating Baum, Ken ————————————————– Bowling Becker, Jay Dagen, Bruce Lipton, (Falis) Carolyn

———————————————— Braiding Metsch, (Brown) Barbara ———————————–—————

Breathing Cole, Robert —————————–———————

Bridge Cohen, Arthur

Garyn, (Adler) Fran Pretes, (Mikitansky) Helen Rubin, Harvey Sacks, (Davis) Lorraine Schangler, (Kimmelman) Dorothy Smith, Warren Strum, (Tarkan) Carol

—————————————–—— Chess Ohayon, Steve Venuto, Dino

———————————————— Calligraphy Feshbach, Murray ———————————–————– Collectibles (Vintage Jewelry) Gutterman, (Perlmutter) Barbara ————————————————– Computer Podolnick, (Slimowitz) Shirley ————————————————– Cooking Akers (Goldstein) Myrna Klein, (Kramer) Joan Powers (Puris H.) Tony ————————————————– Crafts Akers (Goldstein) Myrna Schwartz, (Wintner) Barbara

———————————–———— Crossword Puzzles Ohayon, Steve ————————————–———— Cycling Cymes, Lenore

———————————————— Dogs Simon, (Shapiro) Joan ————————————————– Dancing Allen, (Portnoy) Linda - Latin Dancing Lipton, (Falis) Carolyn Haimowitz, Sandra (Sanders) Shapiro, (Simon) Joan ————————————————– Exercise Swimmer (Cohen), Iris Sanders, (Haimowitz) Sandra ————————————————— Folk Dancing Binder, (Rogoff) Rene ————————————————— Fishing

Baum, Ken Katz, Stanley Itzkoff, Gerald ———————————–—————

Gambling Akers (Goldstein) Myrna Seidman, (Petkunas), Minna

———————————————— Gardening Feshbach, Murray ———————————–—————

Gin Rummy Anderman, Morty David, Richard Singer, Ronald Spector, Marvin ———————————–—————

Golf Becker, Jay Brodsky, Bert Berman, (Feuerstein) Madelyn Cooper, (Robbins) Marilyn Davis, Howard Finkelstein, Myron Garyn, (Adler) Fran Heyman, Fred Kagan, Howard Kaplan, (Davis) Norma Kaufman, Norman Lechner, Mel Lifschutz, Reno Marks, Gerald Milstein, Chuck Metsch, Herbert Nuchow, Richard Resnick, Martin Rosen, (Naftelberg) Elayne Seltzer, Stan Singer, Ronnie Singer, Saul Skolsky, David J Solomon, Larry Unger, Ray

———————————————— Grandchildren Brodsky, Bert Cohen, Howard Stromwasser, (Simons) Myra ————————————————– Hearts Cohen, Arthur Cohen, Howard


PELHAM PARKWAY HOBBIES



(Continued from page 30) Martin, Gene —————————————————Horses Brian, Harvey ————————————————— Ice Skating Becker, Jay ————————————————– Looking Baum, Ken Gitlin, Chuck ————————————————– Mah Jong Miller, (Goldfarb) Judy Freeman, (Traiger) Rivanne ————————————————–

Minerals Feshbach, Murray

———————————————— Movies Haimowitz, Sandra (Sanders) ————————————————— Motorcycle Riding Moses, Barry Wisan, Michael ————————————————– Music Abrams, Harvey (plays trumpet) Fuchs, Lenny Hornstein, (Turtel) Reva Namerow, David ————————————–————

Needlepoint Nesenoff, (Pomerantz) Judy Kraft, (Lieberman) Linda ————————–————————

Jewelry Moses, Barry ————————–————————

Knitting Swimmer (Cohen), Iris Miller, (Goldfarb) Judy —————————————–———

Pets Barry Moses ———————————————–—

Photography Feshbach, Murray Gostin, (Westman) Cynthia Kingsley, Tom Kolbrenner, Joel Lovitch, Alan Milstein, (Tencer) Dianne Skolsky, David J ——————————————–——

Poker Cohen, Howard R

Lewis, Steve ——————————————–——

Politics Gerald Itzkoff —————————————–———

Pop Music Feshbach, Murray —————————————–———

Quilting Brown, (Metsch) Barbara ————————————————– Racquet Ball Albert, Arthur Kaufman, Marvin ——————————————–——

Reading Cole, Robert Davis, Howard Fineberg, Renee Gutterman, (Perlmutter) Barbara Hornstein, (Turtel) Reva Kaplan, (Davis) Norma Klein, (Kramer) Joan Kraft, (Lieberman) Linda Lipton, (Falis) Carolyn Nesenoff, (Pomerantz) Judy O’Brien, (Zwickel) Barbara Ohayon, Steve Podolnick, (Slimowitz) Shirley Schwartz, (Wintner) Barbara Swimmer (Cohen), Iris Stromwasser, (Simons) Myra Venuto, Dino Zwickel, (O’Brien) Barbara ————————————————–

Seashells Feshbach, Murray ————————————————— Scroll Saw Woodworking Wisan, Michael ——————————–——————

Scuba Brian, Harvey ————————————————— Shopping Miller, (Goldfarb) Judy ————————————————— Shooting Brian, Harvey ————————————————— Singing Pretes, (Mikitansky) Helen —————–———————————– Sketching Rubin, Harvey ———————————–—————

Skiing Becker, Jay

Brown, Charles ————————————————– Sleeping Freiman, David ————————————————– Socializing with former PP friends Podolnick, (Slimowitz) Shirley ————————————————– Softball Brown, Charles ————————————————– Soft Sculpture Dolls Brown, (Metsch) Barbara ————————————————–

Spending Weiner, Andy ——————————————–—– Sports Cole, Robert Orenstein, Murray -——————————––————— Sports Memorabilia Ahrenstein, Jerry ———————————–———–—– Stamps Feshbach, Murray Freiman, David ——————————–—–————

Swimming Resnick, Martin —————————–——————— Tennis Cohen, Arthur Berman, (Feuerstein) Madelyn Finkelstein, Myron Garyn, (Adler) Fran Kagan, Howard Kaufman, Marvin Kraft, (Lieberman) Linda Lipton, (Falis) Carolyn Marks, Gerald Metsch, Herbert Resnick, Martin Seltzer, Stan Venuto, Dino

——————————–————— Theater Citrin, Mel Haimowitz, Sandra (Sanders) Schwartz, (Wintner) Barbara Venuto, Dino

———————————————— Travel Akers (Goldstein) Myrna Becker, Jay Feshbach, Murray Hornstein, (Turtel) Reva




(Continued from page 31) Kaplan, (Davis) Norma Kaufman, Marvin Klein, (Kramer) Joan Kingsley, Tom Lipton, (Falis) Carolyn Milstein, Chuck Nesenoff, (Pomerantz) Judy Orenstein, Murray Podolnick, (Slimowitz) Shirley Stromwasser, (Simons) Myra —————————————–———

Voice Over Actor

Albert, Arthur ——————————–——————

Walking Feigenblatt, (Trachtenberg) Hetty Fuchs, Lenny Kingsley, Tom Lipton, (Falis) Carolyn (FAST) Milstein, (Tencer) Dianne Rothpearl, (Gerson) Sandra ————————————————–

Watching all the girls go by Kashkin, Bruce —————————–———————

Watching Sports Dagen, Bruce Orenstein, Murray ——————————–——————

Word Puzzles Gutterman, (Perlmutter) Barbara ————————————————— Workout In Gym Orenstein, Murray ————————————————— Yoga Swimmer (Cohen), Iris ————————————————–

This is a picture of White Plains Road and Lydig Avenue. On White Plains Road, on the North side of Lydig you can see the Drug store, the Dairy store, the Jeweler, etc. On the South side corner there is a store with a great

big sign. The sign reads “Pel Park Palace”, anybody know anything about this store?

? ?

Above — East side of White Plains Road (anybody know what year? Below — West side, The famous Pelham Bowling Academy (under new Management), next Snowflake bakery then two stores over — Toy Town.



On October 1, 2, 3, 4, 2009 five old friends and their wives got together in South Hampton, Long Island, New York, to celebrate their 62nd High School re-union. Yes, you read it correctly!! Harvey Turkheimer, Ken Bialkin, Reuben Aronovitz, Len

Fuhrer and Bennet Feinsilber were the returning Alumni, Some of us had not seen each other for all of those 62 years, others had been in touch, but not spent any quality time


RE-UNION RE-UNION RE-UNION BY HARVEY TURKHEIMER

Harvey Turkheimer, Phyllis Aronovitz, Bennet Feinsilber, Reuben Aronovitz, Maureen Feinsilber, Margi Turkheimer, Ann Bialkin, Kenny Bialkin, Fran Kossin Fuhrer and Lenny Fuhrer.


(Continued from page 33) together on a social level. We came to New York to meet and it was a “blast”. Some traveled long distances, from Phoenix, AZ, Philadelphia, PA, San Antonio, TX, and Boston, Ma. We had three copies of our year book the “Anchor” and pictures of PS108 and PS83. Our accomplishments in life were discussed at dinner on Friday night at Ken and Ann Bialkin’s home in Water Mill. How proud we were of each o t h e r , a n d t h i n g s we h a d accomplished since we last met all those years ago. The wives also had varied and successful careers.

Kenny is still active in a Major Law Firm and in the Jewish and Israel world wide problems, Lenny had stayed active in corporate business here in the US and around the world. Reuben gave up a career in engineer-ing and went back to school and then went into Education and retired 3 years ago and is now Professor Emeritus at Delaware Community College, Bennet moved to Texas with his Civil Engineering firm and retired there over 10 years ago, Harvey had a successful wholesale business in the garment center and sold out in 1994 and moved to Arizona. All of our wives are now retired and involved in golf,

bridge, lunch and other social functions as well as volunteer work for local and world wide charities. Ken Bialkin and Len Fuhrer were in our wedding party and Reuben also attended our wedding. Margi and I will be married 60 years on the December 26, 2009. To Margi and Harvey we all wish that you have another 25.

Happy Anniversary 1236 Chowtaw Place CCHS January 1947 [email protected]

———————————–


December 26, 1949 Oh! what a night, late December…

Brother-In-Law, Ken Bialkin, “The Groom” Harvey Turkheimer, Lenny Fuhrer, David Kossin (Deceased) and Bob Turkheimer.



There it is-on the last issue, page 44 of the lovey, gentle, Pelham Parkway Times, always full of great memories, a picture of my nemesis from Junior High, Mr. Charles Kaufman, who as pictured in 1954, taught 8th grade at PS89 but in the 1957-1958 school year taught 9th grade math at JHS 127, on Castle Hill Avenue. Maybe my discomfort in seeing his picture fifty one years later is a combination of math being my nemesis, and remembering Mr. Kaufman taking advantage of my vulnerability instead of trying to help. Also in fairness, this problem with him did not suddenly occur — I was a poor math student right from the beginning in elementary school and it lasted into college. However, when we “add in” (no pun intended) algebra, geometry, logarithms, quadratic e q u a t i o n s , m o n o m i a l s a n d polynomials, we have a recipe for disaster in a poor math student-me Note that I did or tried to do all the homework, and had the benefits of tutoring. My parents sent me to Mrs. Mooney, a retired math teacher who lived near Hugh Grant Circle, just outside of Parkchester, and she was a great help in getting me to translate this arcane body of knowledge into something that I could now barely understand. She charged $5 an hour in those days, a sum my parents held dear, but were investing it so that I could pass this subject. It helped only a bit. I studied and studied, did the homework and class work, did not go to the blackboard to put the work on, because I would have been unable to explain it, and never raised my hand to ask a question because I did not know what or how to ask in this strange language, and probably would not have understood the answer anyway. Back to Mr. Kaufman. He started every sentence with “Apparently”, as in …. “Apparently, Becker, you will not be able to do polynomials if you

couldn’t understand monomials”. I told him that I am doing the work, I don’t understand it much , but I am trying and I’m also going for tutoring. He would reply ”Apparently, the tutoring isn’t helping much.”. He said “apparently” so many times that eventually the class organized a betting pool on the number of times he would say it in a 45 minute period. An envelope was passed around (out of his sight), and you put in a penny, wrote your name on the back and indicated the number of “apparentlies” we would endure during that class. If you hit the right number (sometimes around 28), you won the envelope of pennies. You could not go over the official count. If no one hit the right number, the one that was lowest, and closest to the count would win. Someone was appointed to count, surreptitiously, and as the period drew close to an end, a lot of students would be counting, as Mr. Kaufman looked around the room, seeing the smiles and wondering what we were so happy about . He probably thought that we were counting the minutes to the end of the period. I was anyway. But it was his sarcasm, a word I really didn’t know then, that really got to me. I had never had a teacher before like that who would criticize you in front of the whole class, for getting poor marks. Naturally, not all teachers were helpful, but he was the only one to go out of the way to make you feel worse when you did poorly. Was he taking the Marine drill sergeant approach by telling you that you aren’t good enough to make it-hoping that you’ll work harder to show him to be wrong? I don’t know-I was too young and inexperienced in the 9th grade to worry about that. When he gave back a test, he would have the tests in order of grade from the highest to the lowest. That in itself is not bad, but what was, was his comments about how badly a student did and of course if you were the last

one to receive a test back, the whole class knew the story. One rare test that I did do well on, (I was the third one in the class of 35 to get it back. I somehow got an 85, right behind two kids who each got 100), he commented that this was a pleasant surprise and he would like to see more of this kind of work. I would too, but I doubted the possibility. I thought that maybe this signaled a change in attitude from him, and that maybe he would pick on someone else, but that was an incorrect interpretation, as I learned with the next unit and next test. As far as the math was concerned, I always wondered, not even “apparently”, why we had to worry about doing anything with a quadratic equation, since we already knew the answer-it was always 0. Why don’t we just leave it alone? When do we ever encounter logarithms in life? We don’t even use them when measuring a room, as you might use geometry. I felt sure that I would not be launching rockets to the moon. I also did not care what time the two trains get to Hartford, or what happens if you mix different types of peanuts, or which sibling is five years older than the other. Whatever it is, that’s the way it will always be. I forgive Mr. Kaufman, and at this point in my life, hold no grudge. I cannot resist though, comparing his class and teaching methods to Miss Demotses, who I had two years later for Algebra at James Monroe High School. I was lost there too in trying to understand the work, despite studying the homework, class work and tutoring. She was compassionate and helpful though, and I thank her to this day for recognizing my effort. What motivated me to try harder in her class was the kid who sat next to me, a tall skinny black kid, who never took notes, wouldn’t do homework, never went to the blackboard, never raised his hand, and spent his time


APPARENTLY, I REMEMBER THIS WELL BY JAY BECKER


(Continued from page 35) scratching his girlfriend’s name into the desk with the compass. My memory isn’t clear, but I think his name was Eddie, and he got very high marks on the tests she gave. I was amazed, and when I asked him how he does it, all he could answer was “It all be booshit man”, just booshit” The teacher gave him 65’s on the report card in spite of the high test marks, because he did no homework and no class work. I had suggested to him that if he did this work, he would get much better grades. I told him “She is so nice…she would give you a great mark“, but he replied “ She do whatever she want.. I ain’t doin no homework for no teacher”. It wasn’t that he ever had a confrontation with the teacher, he never was a discipline problem, never gave any teacher a hard time. It was years later when I became a teacher, I realized how Eddie got great test marks-he had a great memory. He just memorized everything she said, and wrote on the board and parroted it back to her on t h e t e s t s . R e m a r k a b l e ! We met all kinds of teachers as we went through school, each one leaving some type of memory ranging from exhilaration to happiness to disgust to some type of resentment, and yet regardless of their personality, they have had an effect in shaping our personalities, and helping us decide what we should do or never do in our lives.

Jay Becker 1491 West Avenue

JMHS 1961 [email protected]

——————————————

Jacqueline Braunstein Hirschman

Jackie Braunstein Hirschman (on the right), with her two lovely daughters Robyn & Melissa and her delicious granddaughter, Amaris.

Jerry Ahrenstein’s Angela

Maureen & Art LaBrecque’s grand kids Harrison & Ava.

Shayna, Talia & Hannah Moses Sissy and Bernie Mose’s grand kids.

Joyce Horowitz Camm & Art Camm’s Grand kids — Bailey & Joey Horowitz.



In the winter of 1952, the second term of the 1951-1952 school year was about to begin. On the at morning I anticipated what it might be like entering a new class, in a new school, in the middle of the school year. I felt nervous entering an unknown zone; would the other students accept me? I barely knew only one person who was my age who was attending the school, since I only lived in the Pelham Parkway neighborhood for a few days. A few days before I enrolled at PS89 to start the sixth grade, our family drove up from the south Bronx to our new home on Wallace Avenue. My father said to me, “this is your new world.” The morning I was to start PS89, my mother enrolled me and I was brought up to Mrs. DeLuca’s sixth grade class. All the students in the class and the teacher were already in the room. As I walked into the room, I was keenly aware that I was “the new girl in the class.” Mrs. Deluca introduced me to the class and directed me to an assigned seat. As I was walking to my seat a boy who I did not yet know, Stuart Zuckerman, asked me “do you play canasta?” Apparently the class thought the question was funny and started to laugh. I said yes and proceeded to my seat. In a recent conversation with a member of my sixth grade class, Estelle Kell, who later became my best friend, she remembered me walking into that classroom that morning carrying a red sweater, a detail I do not remember but somehow caught her eye and remained fixed in her memory. After eighth grade in 1954, Stuart Zuckerman and I went to separate high schools and lost contact with one another. About 20 years later, I walked into a pet store in Co-op City with my son and daughter. My son, Steven was looking to buy an Iguana! All of a sudden I heard a voice yell out “Claire

THE NEW GIRL IN CLASS! BY CLAIRE KLIENMAN SILVERSTEIN

Sue Ravin, Estelle Kell and Claire Kleinman.


Silverman!” It was Stuart Zuckerman, who owned the pet store and sold us the Iguana. As time went by I made many friends at PS89 and Christopher Columbus High School. I have fond memories of our friendships and shared activities. One favorite activity was playing girls softball on the parkway with Estelle, Joan Traub, Gloria Daniels and other team members. I have wonderful memories of Saturday afternoons in the seventh grade shared with a new friend Maxine Greenberg. We would have lunch at the Jasmine Inn Chinese Restaurant on White Plains Road, see a movie at the Globe Theater, and then finish the day with a pizza at the Allegro Inn. Maxine Greenberg and I

have recently reconnected. Another seventh grade activity was after school indoor roller skating to music in the gym at PS89. My mother took me to a sporting goods store on White Plains Road to buy a roller skating outfit, that matched the style that my friends wore skating time. By the end of the first in my new sixth grade class, the “new girl” had made many friends, boys as well as girls. Now, I was part of the “gang”.

Claire Klienman Silverstein 2345 Wallace Avenue

CCHS 1958 PS89 1954

[email protected] ——————————————



Pearl Cohen Carl

Photo taken in 1950 at Carol Resch Warshaw’s sweet sixteen party. Irwin Wurmbrand, Alan Goldstein, Dave Brown, Arnie Maurer, Ethel Morganroth, Carol Resch, Lorette Ettinger, Arlene

Curtis, Shelley, Richard Castro, Lenore Rosenblatt, Saul Cohen, Miles and Malcolm Warshaw. Not sure who is who, but 4 have not been included (14 names with 18 people).

Dennis Viera Rose Gosten


Hello there, Our mail just arrived and there was “The Pelham Parkway Times”. On page 4 was your name and address, so I am sending the enclosed photos. Leo will be so surprised if they get published in the next issue, (see page 75) because he doesn’t know I sent them in. Since this was such a special anniversary (our 50th) I thought all of people Leo knew, way back then, would like to see them. We are still celebrating our 50th anniversary (June 7, 2009) these d a y s . I t ’ s r e a l l y q u i t e a n accomplishment, we have three chil-dren and five grandchildren and there’s love all around. Leo Kornfeld is a workers comp Judge and I (his wife Sandy) am a former Public Relations Director and Travel Consultant. We have been living in Huntington, NY for 45 years, before coming here we lived in Levittown, NY for 5 years. Would love to speak any of our friends from the past, we can be reached at (631) 549-4722. Thanks so much and enjoy everyday.

Sandy & Leo Kornfeld 2081 Cruger Avenue

CCHS 1949 (631) 549-4722

———————————–——– Hi Howie. How are you? It's Nancy Lechner Udin. Hope all is well with you. I just wanted to remind you that the CCHS Class of '70 will be having their 40th HS reunion this September 25, 2010 at Graziella's Restaurant in White Plains, NY. The cost is $80 per person. If anyone needs anymore information, please email me at [email protected] Thanks for your help. ———————————–—————–

Take a good look at CCHS — soon to be a

Charter School!

LETTERS TO THE PPTIMES


1939-2013?

Life expectancy: 77.7 years

PS105 Schoolyard — Use to be crowded with kids, now portable class rooms!

Where have you gone Joe DiMaggio?

I guess, they will never put in a

swimming pool!

GONE! Columbus Day Marching Band!

1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9- No bell to save us?

S O

W H A T

H A S

T H E

M A Y O R

D O N E

T O

H E L P

P E L H A M

P A R K W A Y?





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My dad, Irving Braverman, passed away on October 13th. While he may not have been seen as a "remarkable" man in our old neighborhood his children (Rebecca, Arthur, Mel) and grandchildren (Hanna, Conor, Nao, Rich and Joey) all knew better. Growing up on Unionport Road my dad worked hard as did the other dad's, but when it came to Sunday (which was card playing day for many fathers) my dad could be found in the street having a catch with one or all of his children. I know my sister became an excellent athlete at a time when girls/women were not thought of as athletes partly due the the fact that when it came to playing ball my dad was not tied to the gender issue. He instilled in each of us, by action not lecturing, the importance of physical exercise as a means to healthy living. Dad and Mom retired to Phoenix/Scottsdale AZ in the early 70's, to be near Rebecca and her family (Ron Rubin, Rich and Joey). While they lived there for almost 30 years my dad could at any moment be heard to say he missed NYC tremendously. he just never quite felt totally at home outside of the Big Apple. After mom died dad spent the last seven years of his life in Ojai, CA living very close to my brother. At 93 years old dad developed a "new life" that made his children look on in aw. He participated in a writing class and began putting down some of his early memories, and this ain't easy when some of those memories are over 90 years old. I hope to transcribe some of his writings to my computer and share them with this PP crowd in the future. He developed a social life as we had never seen before. My brother, who has lived in Ojai for over 25 years, remarked — "I would walk down the street with dad and people would know him and I would have to introduce myself to them". He made the front page of the local paper's senior section. At his memorial service

in Ojai the words most often spoken were: Irv had a great sense of humor, Irv was a gentleman and he liked to express his dislike for the current political climate. All very true. His mind was sharp right to the end, two days before he died he was reading the editorials and opinions page in the NY Times-a favorite past time of his. When I was with him this last year we would regularly discuss the columns-he loved Maureen Dowd for her relentless exposure of Bush's intellectual and policy failures and he respected Frank Rich immensely. His body remained strong through about 97.5 of his 99 years and at 97 he would walk down the street, see a coin on the ground, stoop down pick it up and keep walking-a feat I had trouble doing (going down was the easy part for me). My dad grew up in a dysfunctional family (before they invented the word dysfunctional) and he and mom created a family that is so functional we seem to be outliers in this crazy world. He was all about family and his grandchildren gave him immense joy. We will all miss him, his quick wit and his charm-but mostly we will just miss you pop.

Mel Braverman 1954 Unionport Road


CDS Consulting Cooperative: Melbraverman

@cdsconsulting.coop (608) 243-3255

—————————————– Attached is a photo of our group of Bronx Boys. A short article below. Left to right on the photo: (page 43). Michael Altman (Wallace Avenue), Mel Braverman (Unionport Road), Ralph Dishowitz (Lebannon Street), Lonny Ogus (Wallace Avenue), Steve Klapper (he's from Brooklyn so don't strain your memory), Arnie Cohen (W a l l a c e A v e n u e ) , M i c h a e l

Schachter (Wallace Avenue). Lonny Ben Ogus Passes Over (not Passover) On August 8, 2009 the last of our group of Bronx Boys passed over to the other side. Yes, Lonny Ben Ogus turned 60 years old and he came to Madison, WI to celebrate with his peers (until Ben turned 60 we really didn't consider him a peer). As luck would have it that weekend also brought to Madison Michael Altman who lives in Colorado and Michael Schachter who lives in Minnesota so we were able to celebrate with seven of our usual group of nine (Kenny Scher and Mark Mayer were not able to make it). After drinks, etc. at Arnie's house we took Lonny out for more drinks and a meal. As we were treating Lonny to the meal he did not have to do the math of dividing the bill up to tell each of us what to pay. This was Lonny's job when we went to the deli or other restaurants in the Bronx and the rest of us are sure this one responsibility of Lonny's enabled him to pocket enough cash to send himself through law school-now when we say this to him he threatens us with a lawsuit for libel. Lonny, being the kid in the group, has always had it tough. He was the last to be picked for stickball, had to play right field in baseball, was the 6th man in basketball (we had a 5 man team), used bumper guards in bowling and had to wear a helmet when he rode his bike. He was able to overcome all this adversity and use the anger and venom of his past to become one of the finest lawyers in Chicago who would not only pick your bones clean but then give them to the dogs. So, I implore all of you who knew Lonny as that awkward, unhappy, miserable child to lift up your glass and toast him on his passing over the 60 year mark. And remember, if he ever contacts you it will probably be to sue the s_ _ t out of you! ————————–—————

PELHAM PARKWAY REMEMBERS IRVING BRAVERMAN BY MEL BRAVERMAN



Ron and Rebecca Rubin

Michael Altman (Wallace Avenue), Mel Braverman (Unionport Road), Ralph Dishowitz (Lebannon Street), Lonny Ogus (Wallace Avenue), Steve Klapper (not a P.P. buddy),

Arnie Cohen (Wallace Avenue), Michael Schachter (Wallace Avenue).

Braverman Grand Children — Hanna, Cono, Nao, & Rich.



Calling all sport Fans! You don’t want to miss this event! Save the date and call for tickets immediately…

The National Jewish Sports Hall Of Fame & Museum

Induction Ceremony Sunday, April 18, 2010

INDUCTEES

BILL GOLDBERG - PRO WRESTLER & PRO FOOTBALL

SETH GREENBERG - BASKETBALL COACH

RUSTY KANOKOGI - JUDO

JASON LEZAK - OLYMPIC SWIMMER

RUSS ROSE - VOLLEYBALL COACH

DICK TRAUM - FOUNDER OF THE ACHILLES TRACK CLUB

ALAN VEINGRAD - PRO FOOTBALL

THE DICK STEINBERG GOOD GUY AWARD — DAVID COHEN, HOFSTRA UNIVERSITY HEAD FOOTBALL COACH

THE MARTY GLICKMAN OUTSTANDING

JEWISH SCHOLASTIC ATHLETES OF THE YEAR AWARD

SAMANTHA MARDER - THE OHIO STATE UNIVERSITY SOFTBALL PLAYER

JON SCHEYER - DUKE UNIVERSITY BASKETBALL PLAYER

For more information, please contact Alan Freedman

(631) 462-9800 EXT. 119

SUFFOLK JCC “Y” -- 78 Hauppauge Road -- Commack NY 11725



Here's something to think about.

Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning. A man with a violin plays six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx. 2 thousand people passed through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle-aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule. 4 minutes later: The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk. 6 minutes: A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again. 10 minutes: A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by

several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly. 45 minutes: The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32. 1 hour: He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition. No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin valued at $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold out a theatre in Boston where the price of seats averaged $100. This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities. The questions raised: in a commonplace environment at an

inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context? One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made...

What else are we missing?

——————————————

Sport Fans You do not want to miss the next

induction ceremony April 18, 2010

At The National

Jewish Sports Hall Of Fame And Museum

Bring this coupon and Ask for Howard.

For info 631/462-9800

DID YOU KNOW?



I Must Be Dreaming I awoke Friday morning, June sixth, to a fleeting amnesia. A momentary respite from commitment before memory rushed in to serve up the day. This would be my first full day aboard the S.S. Empire State as its new second radio officer. Rolling that exciting and unsettling thought over in my mind sparked a flurry of secondhand memories of the sea. Books I had read where the hero eagerly headed into the loins of mother nature. Now, by a surprising turn of events, I was about to follow in their footsteps. Was I really awake, or still dreaming? Tucked into the warmth of my covers, I slowly scanned the room. The sun's rays streamed passed partially closed Venetian blinds, and danced on my bed covers before being reflected on to the ceiling. Everything was in its place, just as I had left it after Christmas vacation. My communications receiver and home built transmitter sat silently on the large plywood desk next to my bed. The maple dresser under the mirror--on the far wall--guarded the closet where a pride of now friendly demons lived. On my left, near my brother's empty bed, stood a small mahogany bookcase. It was next to a large cedar chest holding the Book of Knowledge with its infamous volume filled with pictures of writhing snakes . The same clean, slightly pungent summer mothball smell I remembered from my youth, still permeated the room. Closing my eyes, I pulled the covers up under my chin, and breathed deeply, trying to sink further into the warmth of the bed--then I remembered the time. With a sound like an Indian war-hoop vibrating within my vocal cords, I threw the covers off, jumped up and hit the squeak in the wooden floor running. I wasn't fully aware of it yet, but like a new recruit to summer stock, I was slowly beginning to shed my old self and take on a new identity. When

friends stopped to tell me about their plans for the summer and, as an afterthought politely inquired about mine; some looked incredulous, a few smiled, one or two even patted me on the back saying, sure Bob, nice try. But when I insisted that it was all true, they looked at me like I had taken leave of my senses. I soon began referring to the S.S. Empire State as "my ship". In the past, I usually reserved "my" for small possessions like a book, a jacket, a model airplane, my radio equipment; certainly nothing larger than my desk. "My ship" had an other worldly ring to it. It added a new dimension to my thinking and to me. At first it was even hard to utter the words; they seemed unreal--as if I was living a lie. Now, all that was changing. After only four days, I had developed a tentative sense of belonging; becoming a part of something which I couldn't yet fully comprehend but was beginning to make me feel special; put a bounce in my step. The last time I had a similar feeling was when I joined the boy scouts. My father drove me to the ship on his way to work. He was silent all the way. But his usual early morning serious demeanor; the look that told me he was mentally running through the days workload--was missing. Replaced by a whimsical, almost bemused look with only a hint of concern. A look I remembered from his younger carefree days, during summer vacations before the war. I half expected a joke or at least a wise-crack. There was nothing. But he didn't drive away immediately. By the time I reached the end of the pier and turned to wave, he was gone. John Arkinstall was waiting for me in the radio room. "Morning Robert, how are things going; did you have any trouble with the uniforms?" "No. I have the khaki's, the shoes, the caps, and the insignia. The whites will be ready tomorrow." "Bob, what about your draft status? I assume you have a student deferment. But you still have to get

permission from your draft board to leave the country." “I didn't realize that." “Well, I'll get you a letter from the school, but you'll have to meet with your draft board as soon as possible. It shouldn't be a problem, but I suggest you call them this morning." I glanced around the radio room as if I was seeing it for the first time. It looked smaller than I remembered. The control console with its receivers and transmitters was the center piece; with a two foot wide service space in the back for maintenance. There was a working surface attached to the front of the console with a well in the center that had a typewriter with a marine keyboard. Two large ceramic insulators stood atop one end of the console with heavy gauge wires attached that disappeared into a recess in the ceiling. Two chest-high supply cabinets were against the wall opposite the control panel. A large receiver sat atop one cabinet and a hot water heater on the other. A second chair rested against the wall near the entrance to the room. Tucked in one corner was another piece of equipment that occupied four square feet of floor area and was five feet high; the radio telephone. I was certain that I would be spending eight hours a day in this room, for the next three months. Mr. Arkinstall seemed anxious to start. He began with a review of each piece of equipment in the control console; even pointed out the emergency receiver which required no power. At first I thought it was a joke--it wasn't. Attached to the front of the console in the lower left-hand corner was a crystal radio set; a simple tuned circuit that used the energy from an incoming signal to drive a pair of earphones. It was primitive but it worked. When I was twelve I made a "receiver" just like it, only back then it was called a foxhole radio. I couldn't help noticing a five inch diameter Seth Thomas wind-up clock that was mounted in the


CATCH THE RISING TIDE “PART 8” BY ROBERT STEINBERG



(Continued from page 46) center of the control consul, at eye level. What caught my attention were the two red zones between 15 to 18 and 45 to 48 minutes past the hour. He must have read my mind. "Bob, those are called silent periods. All ship radio transmissions on 500 kilocycles, the international distress and calling frequency, are supposed to stop during those times so we can listen for distress signals. Someone could be sending out an SOS from a low power transmitter in a lifeboat. By law, all operators must continuously monitor 500 kilocycles, especially dur-ing the silent periods." Mr. Arkinstall then pointed to a small panel in the left hand corner of the console. It was isolated from the main system, with several odd looking dials and knobs surrounding a small meter. "This is the auto alarm. Most people have never heard of it; but it’s even in the diction-ary. It's one of the most important pieces of equipment in the radio room. It can automatically send or receive a special coded signal alerting all ships in the vicinity, day or night, that a ship is in distress, and is about to send an SOS. Alarm bells are triggered on the bridge, in the radio room and in the radio operators quarters of all ships receiving this signal. It was the sinking of the unsinkable Titanic by an iceberg in the North Atlantic in 1912, that changed thinking and resulted in this improvement. Ironically, there was at least one ship nearby, but the operator never heard the SOS. He had already turned off his receivers and left the radio room. Now, according to international law all ocean going vessels have to be equipped with an auto alarm system. It 's your responsibility to turn it on before leaving the radio room." I wondered aloud, "Should an operator always send the auto alarm signal before an SOS ?" Mr. Arkinstall thought a moment, then said, "It all depends on how bad things are aboard ship, the time of day and where you are. If you have minutes, and its during the day, and your in a well traveled sea lane, a quick SOS. might be the thing. To really improve your chance of rescue, I would probably go with the auto

alarm signal first." He fired up the 200 watt transmitter, warning me that the key used to send Morse code had 115 volts across it. "Bob, its easy to forget and touch the 115 volt side while your other hand is grounded on the metal edge of the table. Don't worry, you'll only make that mistake once." The ship to shore radio telephone was next. Turning it on was easy. Using it was another matter. The people at both ends had to say "over" when they finished speaking, and remember to let go of the transmit button at this end, otherwise they would not hear the other speaker. In inexperienced hands it usually turned into a comedy act. The unit had a range of about thirty five miles and was primarily used as a back-up to contact local port authorities in preparation for docking. It was also available for "approved" personal long distance calling. After lunch he tuned into several of the commercial code stations that I would be working with to send and receive messages; finally, he showed me where to find the daily coded weather reports. I arrived back home just after 5:30 pm, exhausted, but feeling relieved. I had a better idea of the job. The equipment and procedures were very different from what I was used to but, so far, I didn't see anything I couldn't handle with a little practice. Saturday morning arrived too quickly. I went downtown to pick up the rest of my uniforms at Harry Sadow's on Vesey Street in the Bowery. The fit seemed near perfect. That "officer" in front of the three sided mirror in navy whites looked too young--and almost too embarrassed to examine his own image closely. Why did I feel that way? I didn't expect it, but maybe I should have. Pretense and power had a certain appeal when I was much younger. But, not any more. My relatives, a few teachers and the actions of some classmates had cured me of that desire. The subway car home was almost empty. I sat with my boxes on the wicker seat next to me hypnotized by the familiar clickety-clack of the wheels on the track and the bands of cable carrying pipes that

rose and fell on the far tunnel wall as we sped uptown. I was in a trancelike state. Since Monday my life had been turned upside down. The excitement of preparing to go to sea had made my waking hours one continuous high. In a split second the darkness turned into blinding light as we emerged from the tunnel just before Jackson Avenue. Like the rotating stage in a play at the Windsor Theater in the Bronx, apartment windows now passed in quick review; images of people frozen in time ; a sped-up movie about daily existence. My father's shop was about a ten minute walk from the Jackson Avenue station. I must have taken the subway between Pelham Parkway where we lived and Jackson Avenue, hundreds of times. People in the cars minded their own business; usually deep in thought about what could have been, or might yet be. My only really bad experience on the subway occurred when I was about 12 or 13 and it was my own fault. I was at my father's shop. My head was hot; I didn't feel well. My father had work that had to be done, so he gave me train fare and sent me home. In the middle of the subway ride, somewhere around Freeman Street, I had an immediate urge to throw-up. Luckily the car was-n't crowded. I just made it to the al-cove at the end of the car; too sick to be embarrassed. Three stations later looking sheepish and smelling bad, I hurriedly exited the car, stopping only briefly at the corner candy store for a nickel coke. I wasn't home more than fifteen minutes when my friends converged on my apartment to see me in uniform. They thought I looked great in Navy whites, and I had to admit, I did too. But the real test would be on the street; the neighborhood response. As I emerged from the darkened lobby into the afternoon light of Barnes Avenue, I heard one boy say to the other. "I didn't know that the Good Humor man lived in our building". Before I could turn around, the other boy responded, "Maybe he's making a delivery." I needed to hear that, it brought me back to reality. Preparing for the voyage to Europe



(Continued from page 47) had taken on more significance than I could have imagined. Suddenly, I had a strange feeling--that I was going off to summer camp. After my friends left, and I made sure the uniforms were hung properly, I headed to the library to see exactly where we were going. It was hard to get a real sense of the distance, but the mileage scale helped. Bermuda seemed pretty close, but getting to the Mediterranean would mean a long voyage; something I couldn't even begin to comprehend. I finally located the Balearic Islands just south of Spain. Venice was also difficult to find; it was tucked in at the top of Italy on the north coast. Greece seemed close to Italy, but there were a thousand islands to navigate between before getting to Piraeus. I f ina l ly found the next por t , Villefranche. It was located next to a place called Nice on the southern coast of France. Valencia was easy; on the southeast coast of Spain. I must have studied Southern Europe in my history classes, but I had no idea that so many countries shared the Mediterranean sea. Monday morning, June 9th. I entered the radio room and found John Arkinstall slouched in his chair staring at the operating console. "I just had a run-in with the new doc. He was coming on board as I was passing the gangway. He stops me, and with not so much as an introduction, had the unmitigated gall to ask me to see to his luggage. " "It's down there on the dock. I need it brought to my stateroom." John Arkinstall had been a Lt. Commander in the Navy during the war and I guessed he held that same rank in the reserves. He was wearing khaki's, and was tie less, but the bars on his collar showed his rank. I tried to soothe his feelings by suggesting that perhaps the doctor couldn't see too well since he wore such thick glasses. He seemed unimpressed with my logic. After a cup of coffee and a few minutes to reflect Mr. Arkinstall regained his composure. "Bob, I thought we would go over some of the safety equipment and emergency procedures aboard ship. Lets begin

with one of the two lifeboat transmitters." It was the size of a heavy Sheffield milk box and weighed about three times as much; made by Mackay Radio. "Your only concern is that the batteries are fully charged. These two units are always stored in lifeboats on opposing sides of the ship. They can float, if accidentally dropped overboard; and contain all the necessary gear to quickly put up a kite antenna and start sending out a distress call." I wanted to turn it on. Mr. Arkinstall thought it was not a good idea. After lunch we went down to the radio storage locker which was located on the lowest level in the ships hold. It was a wire cage with all kinds of spare parts and equipment. My initial thought was survival; if the hull was seriously punctuated, I'd never even make it to the main stairway. That one thought drowned out most of what Mr. Arkinstall was saying. Back in the radio room he continued with more safety information. "Your lifejacket is stored under your bunk. But, you can keep it anywhere you like. We are required by law to have life boat drills every week. If the fire alarm sounds and you are not on watch, immediately get your lifejacket and go to your assigned boat station. One of the emergency transmitters will be in your life boat." Monday evening I went to the local draft board presented the letter, answered a few questions and quickly left. They approved my leaving the country for three months. Tuesday, June tenth. I arrived early, planning to review what I had learned the day before, then check out both radar systems. Running up the gangway, I jumped down on to the deck and started towards the bow of the ship, nearly tripping over two cadets swabbing the deck. They turned towards me as I was regaining my balance. For a moment we looked at each other in total puzzlement, and immed ia te recogn i t ion . Each perplexed why the other was there. Then the cadet still frozen to his broom said, "Hey, is that you Steinberg? What in the hell are you doing here?" The other cadet who was kneeling with his back half turned toward me said, "oh no, it is Bob

Steinberg, I haven't seen you since graduation. What in the hell are you doing here?" I was almost speechless. There in front of me was Harry Kessler and Bill Weiss. We had graduated together from Christopher Columbus High School; shared the same home room for four years. I needed a moment to regain my composure, so I answered their question by asking one of my own. "What about you guys, I don't believe you ever mentioned that you were planning to attend the Merchant Marine Academy." "Sure we did," piped up Harry. "Bet I even wrote about it when I signed your senior year book." "Well, your looking at the new second radio operator on the Empire State." Bill looked puzzled. "No kidding. How the hell did you manage that?" "Don't you remember my interest in amateur radio? The miniature radio receivers I brought to class. Well it got me started." "You've been going to radio school," asked Bill? "Not exactly. I'm at Ohio State." There was a moment when no one said a word. I felt the silence. As if an invisible wall had descended between us. "You mean your sailing with us on Wednesday, asked Bill?" "I'm planning on it. It'll be great to be on your ship. I'm sure we'll get a chance to talk again. I have to rush off, John Arkinstall is waiting for me." We went forward to where the radar electronics were housed in a small bunker near the bow of the ship. Mr. Arkinstall pulled out several draws crammed with electronics. "Bob, you can see how close all the wiring is in these units. Arcing has been a real problem. You just might have to spend some time down here sitting in the dark, trying to pinpoint the next short."

To be continued —————————————————

Robert Steinberg 2161 Barnes Avenue


—————————–————–

Why not drop him a line?



Nancy Longhitano Shamis’ 3 of her 5 grandchildren Lucas (4 1/2), Owen (2) & William Paulson (4 1/2).


Braverman family-Braverman and Rubin family. Irv Braverman — 1954 Unionport Road and Esplanade Avenue.

Hanna, Conor, Nao, Rich-the four Braverman/Rubin grandchildren of Irv and Sophie Braverman.

Dorothea Shapiro & Howard Sackelman.



I participate in ROMEO North (Retired Old Men Eating Out) and ROMEO South. ROMEO North takes place weekly on Long Island where I live most of the year. There are four of us (I’m the only one from Pelham Parkway) and we talk about many things over lunch, some serious like significant current events and some on a much lighter note. ROMEO South takes place monthly all year in southeast Florida, where I spend my winters. There are as many as 30 of us there at the winter gatherings, all from Pelham Parkway, and we mostly talk about the old Pelham Parkway and other old Bronx “things”. The ROMEO North guys love the Bronx and Pelham Parkway stories I relate to them, and particularly, the FGC shticks (see page 10). Last week, one of them remarked that he thought it was amazing that I can still remember these shticks, some of which took place over 55 years ago, and it got me thinking. How can this be? How can someone remember with such clarity things that happened so long ago? And the answer is obvious: It’s because of Bubbles, Chuck and Morty. Bubbles and Chuck are associated with the Pelham Parkway Times, its website and periodic reunions, and Morty coordinates the Florida lunches. It’s because of them that we remember and talk about these things, and the fond memories they spark, so we all owe them a huge vote of thanks. So please don’t take them for granted. Support the PPT and attend the reunions. And if you are anywhere near southeast Florida, contact Morty at [email protected] and ask him to add your name to his lunch e-mail list, and show up as much as possible. I do, and we have a really good time. (By the way, Morty’s arrangements are for men only now, but his wife, Ellen, is thinking about ladies only lunches on the same dates as the men only lunches, so contact Morty if

you are interested.) And speaking of memories, pictures in the most recent edition of the PPT reminded me of two shticks that took place long before the FGCs were created, but as can be seen, the FGC-type heredity and environment were in place even when we were teenagers. The first shtick dealt with a former girlfriend of mine, one of my first. I was probably 15 or 16, it was a stormy relationship, and I finally broke it off. Apparently, she was not ready to end it so she got one of my friends to set me up with a blind date, namely her, to join him and his girlfriend one evening. I quietly learned of this and considered my options. One would be to send a friend instead of me, but nobody was interested; another would be to simply not show up, but that would screw up the evening for the other couple. I finally decided what to do: I showed up with a pad and pen, and claimed I had laryngitis. I didn’t say a word all evening. Instead, I wrote notes. Picture the scene: three people talking and one writing notes all evening. Finally, I took her home, said goodnight at the door, and told her I had a nice time. She was taken aback—she remarked that I spoke and showed no signs of any laryngitis. I simply explained that my doctor told me not to use my voice for 36 hours, and it was now 36 hours plus 10 minutes. We never became boyfriend and girlfriend again, but we were always polite to each other after that. The second shtick took place near the Bronx Park East “handball courts” where we hung out after school in nice weather. One of the Holland Avenue guys had the “hots” for one of the Holland Avenue girls, and tried to impress her one day when we started to head home for dinner. He offered her a ride on his bike, and she accepted. They started up the long hill from the handball courts to Bronx Park East while I and another future FGC followed close behind on our bikes, laughing hard because even

though our hero’s bike cost a fortune (it was an obscenely-expensive English racer with thin tires and lots of forward gears, while ours were old-fashioned one speed fat-tire bikes that cost us somewhere between $7 and $10 each, used, of course). Our Holland Avenue hero was really struggling getting up the hill. Not too long after getting started, the damsel complained that her tushie was bothering her (she was seated on a thin bar, consistent with the overall construction of the bike), so our hero stopped the bike, got off, and took off his obscenely-expensive jacket (“we” (the soon-to-be FGCs) were wearing Alexanders’ specials, $12 each). Our hero folded his jacket neatly and gallantly placed it on the thin bar so the damsel’s tushie would not bother her any more, and resumed his schlep up the hill. It wasn’t too much longer before one of the obscenely-expensive sleeves worked its way loose and started to dangle in the breeze. “We” noticed the dangling sleeve and started to laugh even harder because “we” knew what would be happening before our hero even got close to Holland Avenue. As our hero schlepped, the sleeve dangled lower and lower, and was soon approaching the bike chain. Our consciences started to bother us so “we” spoke to each other, quietly, about warning our hero. One of us said no and the other said yes, so we compromised: we very quietly told our hero about the dangling sleeve, but unfortunately, he never heard us. When the sleeve finally wound up in the chain (our hero hadn’t even reached Bronx Park East yet), our hero had to work even harder to get up the hill because the chain was also grinding up the sleeve. Finally, “we” were laughing so hard that we fell off our bikes and were rolling around in the grass when the other Holland Avenue folks walking home reached us and wanted to know what was so


MANY THANKS TO... BY HOWARD “HESH” COHEN



(Continued from page 50) funny. “We” couldn’t stop laughing long enough to explain. The bottom line was that our hero finally reached Holland Avenue with the damsel comfortably seated on his bike, there wasn’t much left of his jacket, he got nowhere with the damsel in the future and he couldn’t walk without pain for at least a week or two. “We” later referred to ourselves as FGCITs (FGCs In Training). The training worked well (some might dispute this), but as can be seen, the foundation was established while we were still teenagers.

Howard (Hesh) Cohen 2137 Wallace Avenue


——————————————

New Elevated Structure with columns in street. White Plains Road — Bronx, NY.

Almost 93 years ago - The Elevated Train in the Bronx March 4, 1917.


Wed January 13 2010 Albert Ricci Email: [email protected] From: Pearsall Avenue HS & Grad Year: CCHS 1960 Comments: I used to hang out at the White Castle on Boston Road. How about bringing back some memories of that. Yours truly Al. ————————–———–—— Mon January 11 2010 Judy Rosenblatt Barrat Email: [email protected] From: Fish Avenue HS & Grad Year: CCHS 1960 Comments: I think this site is awesome -- what a great way to find folks and see what's happening. ————————–—————– January 09 2010 Joe Braunstein Email: [email protected] From: 2156 Cruger Avenue HS & Grad Year: CCHS Comments: Interested in contact with anyone who might remember me so if my name sounds familiar send an email and check it out. ————————–—————– Sat January 02 2010 & 12/15/09 Morris Eisen Email: [email protected] From: 2094 Creston & Fish Avenue HS & Grad Year: De Witt Clinton 1966 Comments: Sure could use a search button on this directory, keep it going. ————————–—————– Fri December 18 2009 Irwin Blank Email: [email protected] From: 2309 Holland Avenue HS & Grad Year: CCHS 1969 Comments: I also lived at Lind-Ric on Barker Ave across the street from PS 96. I now live in Maaleh Adumim, Israel which is a suburb of Jerusalem with my wife of 30 years. I'd really like to hear from old friends who remember my father, Al, who owned Al's corner candy store on the corner of Holland and Astor Aves from 1969-1974. Also, any of the old crowd. ————————–———–—— Sun December 13 2009

Joel Silbert Email: [email protected] From: Creston Avenue Comments: Thumbnails -- especially those of the Loew's Paradise interior -- could be larger. Thanks for the memories. ————————–———–—— 8 Sun December 06 2009 Howard Cohen Email: [email protected] From: 2084 & 2086 Bronx Park East Comments: Denis Viera signed the guest book on May 24, 2009 and identified a photo as Ed Sokol and stated that he passed away a few years ago. I am happy to let everyone know ED is alive and well. Guess there are a couple of Ed Sokol's. In the early years of contacting former residents "friends" of Pelham Parkway, I called an old friend (Arthur Ackerman) and I asked him to "guess who". Since I was relatively close with Arthur, after a few clues I was sure he would come up with my name. Wrong, I finally (after he named everyone but me) had to tell him, Howie Cohen. His comment almost floored me, he said "Howie Cohen I heard you were dead". So, it happens and has happened a couple of times for others from Pelham Parkway. So just to let everyone know, the information that is printed (signed) on our website is not guaranteed to be correct. Sorry about that -- Ed Sokol, look forward to speaking with you soon. ————————–———–—— Sat November 21 2009 Susan Kaufman Greenberg Email: [email protected] From: 2164 Barnes Avenue HS & Grad Year: CCHS 1962 Comments: Would like to know if anyone in my year is planning a reunion! Also, if there is anyone out there that remembers me, I would love to hear from them. ————————–———–—— Wed November 18 2009 Morty Berlant Email: [email protected] From: 2160 Holland Avenue HS & Grad Year: CCHS 1953

Comments: Great Job from San Jose CA ————————–———–—— Thu October 29 2009 Hal Lechner Email: [email protected] From: 2070 & 2074 Bronx Park East HS & Grad Year: CCHS 1961 Comments: First time, in a long time, that I have been on the website. New version looks great. Always look forward to the Pelham Parkway Times and reading about the "good old days". I hope to visit this site more often and start writing some articles for the paper. Howie and Chuck, thanks for keeping up a great tradition! ————————–———–—— Fri October 09 2009 Bobby Drexler Wellington Email: [email protected] From: 2047 Holland Avenue HS & Grad Year: CCHS 1957 Comments: I can't tell how much we enjoy the PPT, my husband is from the Grand Concourse and he enjoys it as much as I do. We have lived in Westchester for the past 39 years and really miss The Bronx. We have gone back to look around but it is not the same. I guess we will have to do with our memories and the PPT. ————————–———–—— Sat October 03 2009 Linda Wald Rubin Email: [email protected] From: 2180 Bolton Street HS & Grad Year: CCHS 1971 W e l l d o n e ! ! ! Comments: just saw my fifth grade picture sent by miss Goldwasser. just wanted her to know she was always one of my favorite teachers and I look back to her class with very fond memories. ————————–———–—— Mon September 07 2009 Marc Falk Email: [email protected] From: Cruger Avenue HS & Grad Year: 1973 Comments: brings back a lot of memories grateful I grew up in Pelham Parkway. ————————–———–——

Guest Book Visitors — Special note — Ed Sokol is Alive & Well




Coming in the next Issue of The PPTIMES You tell us?

For years you have been promising to;

Write your story Send in your pictures

So Chuck & I would like to thank those that have. It is now the time for those who promised…

Hard to believe.

CCHS will be closing it’s doors In 2013. Yes, that is the plan for now!

They will continue to use the building…

A “Charter School” In its place

Looks like 2010 is “The year of the change”!

—————————————————————— So before we have our memories change and we see a little of that everyday, please write that

story and send in those beautiful old pictures and all those other pictures you wish to share. Thanks — Chuck & Howard

1948 Sea Scouts Big Fred Nadelman, Ken Liebowitz, Anthony Siracusa, Stanley Zaslow,

Ted Zwickle, Mel Warshaw, Little Fred Nadelman and “Humpy” Herb Gordon.



Clown Cake A Clown goes into a Bakery and asks if They can make a Cake in the shape of the letter "F". "Yes" says the Baker, "Come back in an hour" The Clown comes back in an hour and the Baker brings out this beautiful cake in the shape of the letter "F". The Clown gets very upset and says "The cake is in the letter "F" but it's in upper case, it's a capital "F" I wanted it in lower case." "No problem" explains the Baker, "Come back in another hour and I'll fix it". The Clown comes back in an hour, the Baker brings out the cake and just like the Clown asked it was in the shape of a lower case "F". "Fine" says the Clown, "Thank you very much". The Baker says "Great, one minute. I'll put it in a Box". "Don’t Bother" says the Clown, "I'll eat it here". If you have read this already then scroll down and read the rest.

Clown Cake A Clown goes into a Bakery and asks if They can make a Cake in the shape of the letter "F". "Yes" says the Baker, "Come back in an hour" The Clown comes back in an hour and the Baker brings out this beautiful cake in the shape of the letter "F". The Clown gets very upset and says "The cake is in the letter "F" but it's in upper case, it's a capital "F" I wanted it in lower case." "No problem" explains the Baker, "Come back in another hour and I'll fix it". The Clown comes back in an hour, the Baker brings out the cake and just like the Clown asked it was in the shape of a lower case "F". "Fine" says the Clown, "Thank you very much". The Baker says "Great, one minute. I'll put it in a Box". "Don’t Bother" says the Clown, "I'll eat it here"

Hi, To keep everyone up to date and this is for real, at 62, I am going to run away and join the Circus, well almost I am really studying to be a Clown. I was always the class clown so now I'm going to go to a Clown College. May be as early as this summer. The Bakery joke is being turned into a Clown Skit as we speak by the President of my Clown Alley (Club). I guess it's clown humor. It's hard to explain but to Clowns it's fun. Another example of Clown humor. Last Monday night at the Bowling Alley One of Ona's (My wife) friends was celebrating a Birthday so I sang her a Birthday song. This is how it goes - sing it to the tune of "Ta Rah Rah Boom tee A" "This is your Birthday song it won't take very long" Then I just stopped singing. Had enough yet? No? well two mosquitoes fly into a circus and Bite A clown, a few minutes later one of the mosquitoes complains of heart burn and tells the other Mosquito "I thought that guy tasted a little funny" ——————————–——————

People were in their pews talking at church. Suddenly, Satan appeared at the altar. Everyone started screaming and running for the entrance, trampling each other in a frantic effort to get away from evil incarnate. Soon everyone had exited the church except for one elderly gentleman who sat calmly in his pew without moving, seeming oblivious to the fact that God's ultimate enemy was in his presence. So Satan walked up to the old man and said, "Don't you know who I am? The man replied, "Yep, sure do." "Aren't you afraid of me?" Satan asked. "Nope, sure ain't." said the man. "Don't you realize I can kill with a word?" asked Satan. "Don't doubt it for a minute," returned the old man, in an even tone.

"Did you know that I could cause you profound horrifying, AGONY for all eternity?" persisted Satan? "Yep," was the calm reply. "And you're still not afraid?" asked Satan. "Nope," said the old man. More than a little perturbed, Satan asked, "Well, why aren't you afraid of me?" The man calmly replied, "Been married to your sister for 44 years."

———————————————— The Potty

A little three year old boy is sitting on the toilet. His mother thinks he has been in there too long, so she goes in to see what's up. The little boy is sitting on the toilet reading a book. But about every 10 seconds or so he puts the book down, grips onto to the toilet seat with his left hand and hits himself on top of the head with his right hand.

His mother says: "Billy, are you all right? You've been in there for a while. Billy says: "I'm fine, mommy.. I just haven't gone yet. Mother says: "ok, you can stay there a few more minutes. But, Billy, why are you hitting yourself on the head?" Billy says: "works for ketchup." —————————————–———

FUNNY PAGES

Have you heard a good joke? Want to share it? Send it to Howard

at [email protected]

Israel, Ellen Levinson, Lucille Reisman, Adrienne Schultz, Joan Shapiro, Elayne Steinkohl, Joan Stern, Carolyn Wandel, Esther

CCHS Class of 1970 Is have a reunion

September 25, 2010 at Graziella's Restaurant in White Plains, NY.

The cost is $80 per person. For information, please email

Nancy Lechner Udin at [email protected]

C 1 C 9 H 7 S 0

C 1 C 9 H 7 S 0


Danielle

Carol Resch Warshaw & Lew Egol (Touring see page 27)

TRYING TO LOCATE

Alan Goldstein, Saul Cohen, Irwin Wurmbrand, Richard Castro, Shelley, Evelyn Cohen and Arlene Curtis.


Carol Rubin’s daughter Marcy Baxter



ARCHITECTS & PLANNERS

Robert M. Swedroe Principal

1111 Lincoln Road Suite 300 Miami Beach, Florida 33139

(305) 673-6002 Fax (305) 674-9126

www.swedroe.com

Robert M. Swedroe …….

If you think Ladder Logic is a foreign language and PLC’s are mysterious black boxes —–

Let Propackage solve your problems, Call Now!

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Propackage delivers inexpensive solutions to packaging, processing and automation problems!

(914) 426-1952 Robert Cohen President

[email protected]



The Udin/Lechner cousins at Nancy & Michael Udin's Annual Holiday Brunch - December 26, 2009.

From left seated - Jared Lechner, Michael Pinchuck, Nicole Lechner Pinchuck with Brody Pinchuck, Stacey Lechner, Diane Greenwald Udin with Jakob Udin,

Andrew Udin with Spencer Udin, Jodi Lechner, Dan Cook, Eric Udin, Shira Van Asselt Udin with Zachary Udin, Michele Udin and Lori Lechner Cook.

CCHS 1955 Graduate Eli Altman

Dorothea Shapiro Castle and Howard Sackelman

Pelham Parkway Reunion Marshall Atlas & Simone Rauch


Stan Albert sent in “some of the names” Can you add any? First row — Sheila ?, Gloria Reisman, Dale Greenberg, ?, ?, ?, ? & ?

Second row — Stan (Eggy) Albert, Howard Hoffman, Leslie Max, Gerald (Butch) Korman, Paul Zasky, Marvin Reingold, Howard Marcus & Joel Kurtz.

Third row — 8 unknown young women. Fourth row — ?, ?, ?, Arnold Blumstein, Stanley Berman, Warren Mintz and Donny Boico. Fifth row — 8 unknown young women.

Sixth row — ?, ?, Kenneth Kirsch, ?, Herb Elkin, ?, Burt ?, Seventh row — 6 unknown young women. Eighth row — ?, ?, ?, Robert Rickover, Burt ?.

Ninth row — ?, Claire Goldhuber?, ?, ?, & ?. ———————————————————————————————————————–

Can you add or confirm any names? — Thanks!


Richie Okon, Howie Lang, Richie Garber, Jay Palefsky & Michael Siegel.

This is not the cookie monster! It is one of the kids in the picture to the left, know who?



When Lenore Cymes e-mailed me in February, 2009 about organizing a 50th HS reunion I told her that there was no way that I would consider it. She said that because she lived in CA that someone from NY should do it and she would be upset if we let our 50th go by without some sort of celebration. About 3 weeks later I e-mailed her to say that I changed my mind. I had thought: WOW! 50 years!…what fun!…how exciting! And I thought that everyone would be as excited as I was. Boy, was I wrong! To begin with, our job was extremely difficult because, after 50 years, our classmates were scattered all over the U.S. We also couldn’t find many women because we didn’t know their married names. And hardly anyone had parents who were alive or who still lived at their 1959 address. And, to this day, we still did not find about 500 of our classmates out of a class of 833 graduates. But the hardest part was discovering how many of our classmates were deceased. And there were a few that were seriously ill, too. You would not believe how many excuses I received from people who were not able to, or did not want to, attend the reunion: -I am too old, too wrinkled, too fat, I am bald. -I am divorced, widowed, not rich, not successful, I am not happy. -I am dissatisfied with my life. -I wasn’t popular, I don’t remember anyone, I don’t keep in touch with anyone. -No one will remember me, no one will recognize me; only old people will be there. -I hated everything about high school, don’t contact me again, remove me from all your lists. -It’s too far to travel, I would go if it was in Montana, it costs too much. -I won’t like the food, will there be anything for a vegetarian to eat? -I’m usually not hungry at 1:00 PM.

-I am busy that day: going to a Bar Mitzvah, going on vacation, going to a wedding (there were more weddings on Oct. 25th than any other day of the year!) -Don’t have it on a Sunday because then it will not be as special. -Don’t have it at night because I don’t drive at night. -Don’t have it on a Friday night or a Saturday because I am observant. That list of excuses would probably convince most people to give up the whole idea. But Lenore and I decided to go ahead as planned and we thought that whoever showed up will have a good time. Because the job was so difficult we decided that we needed more help and we were fortunate that we asked Stuart Chimkin and Myrna Wener Rosen to be on our committee. We also enlisted the aid of a reunion company, Great Reunions, because we did not want to lay out the money for all the

vendors involved, nor did we want to collect the money for the reunion tickets from the classmates. Even though we had this reunion company, the committee still had to continue searching for classmates through various internet search engines and, basically, the bulk of the work fell upon the committee because we still had to continue calling everyone. My committee was a fabulous group of people who worked very hard and who helped make this reunion happen. Stu was so enthusiastic and persevered with his continuous calls…and actually enjoyed doing it! And his good nature never wavered. Myrna had so much excitement and drive and did everything to make the reunion the best that it could be: making goody bags, writing a song, creating a collage of all the classmates who attended. And Lenore was the one who started the ball rolling on this whole reunion idea.


CCHS CLASS OF 1959 —– 50 YEAR REUNION BY MEL CITRIN

REUNION COMMITTEE Mel Citrin, Lenore Cymes, Myrna Wener Rosen & Stu Chimkin.



(Continued from page 59) We discussed every detail and, even though she was in CA, I always felt her head looking over my shoulder. When the going got tough, Lenore helped me get through it; when I was negative, Lenore showed me the positive spin. So now I have three new OLD friends for whom I have great affection and whom I will never forget. And I cannot thank my wife Phyllis enough for her patience and understanding and for her moral support through all 8 months of my working on the reunion. She truly was a “reunion widow”! I gave up time with my wife, my friends, my social life…all for this reunion. Phyllis could not believe that I would be up till 2 or 3AM by the computer working on the reunion and then have to get up at 6AM to get ready to go to my office and put on braces! And it should be noted that Myrna’s husband Hy and Stu’s wife Carol were also angels who earned their reunion halos. And by now you are probably wondering how this reunion turned out. It was held at the DoubleTree Hotel in Tarrytown, NY on Oct. 25, 2009 from 12 noon till 5PM. —————————————————

And now for the MOST important part of the reunion: the classmates! There were 110 attendees, 30 of these

were spouses. ————————————————— I am happy to say that the reunion was a spectacular success!!! When people arrived they were given a badge with their name and graduation photo. They were also handed a bio book where attendees (and even non-attendees) had submitted their “bio” of the last 50 years since graduation and had submitted a current photo of themselves (unfortunately there were a lot of “camera shy” submissions). [Note: because the bio book contained inaccuracies and omissions, I typed up a list of all the classmates that attended, or had participated in the bio book even though they didn’t attend, and included all their contact info.]

We started with a table of fruit and cheese and a bar for drinks and soda. There was also an egg cream station to remind us of the days we would hop into the luncheonette or “candy store” to get a chocolate egg cream. Truthfully, the egg creams that they served were not as perfect as the ones we used to get because they did not have the seltzer bottles with the “squirt” attachment. All around the room were oak tag posters that contained photos of classmates from the HS years, and

oak tag posters with blown up copies of pages taken from our Anchor yearbook. There was a table for memorabilia (much of which was purchased by Stu): old-fashioned candies and cookies, jacks, slinky, stickball bat and spaldeen, sled, hula

hoop, metal skate key, etc. There was a memorial table to honor and acknowledge the memory of those classmates who have passed away. This table had a vase of red roses and was surrounded by the names and graduation photos of the deceased. We also had a DJ who only played music from 1955-1959 from a list of 110 songs that I had selected prior to the event. There wasn’t a lot of dancing because everyone was so

caught up in reminiscing and catching-up with long lost classmates. A photographer took photos of all the classmates, individual portraits and a class photo. A videographer shot all the goings-on and also did interviews of all the classmates. I am anxiously waiting to see the finished video. Each one of the committee members gave a speech welcoming everyone and also giving a brief summary of their reunion journey. The committee asked everyone to vote for 3 categories (the female who changed the least since HS, the male who changed the least since HS and the last ballot was a guess as to the number of January and June 1959 graduates) and to place their ballots in a ballot box. (They were NOT allowed to vote for a committee member.) After tallying all the votes we gave gag gifts to the winners of those 3 categories, plus gag gifts for 8 other categories (Myrna paid for these gag gifts from her own money). The winners were as follows: -Cora Golos Diamond: first classmate, other than a committee member, to buy a reunion ticket (she bought it in mid June). -Peter Veres: person who traveled the furthest to the reunion (Lafayette, CA, 2551 mi.) -Anne Kass Bowman: came in 2nd for traveling the furthest (Van Nuys, CA, 2459 mi.) -Vicki Hochberg: came in 3rd for traveling the furthest (Hollywood, CA, 2456 mi.) -Rina Mirabelli Tarantino: person who contributed most names to reunion committee. -Karen Wagner: Farah Fawcett award for the female with the most/best hair. -Marvin Kaufman: Don King award for the male with the most hair. -Noreen Weinbaum Pokras: most creative and/or hippest female attire worn at reunion. -Walter Srebnick: most creative and/or hippest male attire worn at reunion. -Darlene Bregman Ehrenberg: female who changed the least since HS.




(Continued from page 60) -Bruce Unger : male who changed the least since HS. -Arleen Cardile Vaccarino: guessed closest to exact number of Jan & June 59 grads. -Ronnie Beranbom Lewis and Herbert Lewis; Susan and Stuart Flaks: Sweetheart Award for HS sweethearts who got married.

After the awards were given out the committee sang a song, composed by Myrna to the tune “Moments to Remember”, with Myrna playing the guitar. We hadn’t really rehearsed the song so it was not one of the highlights of the day…but it was fun anyway. After the “grand performance” we all had a delicious buffet lunch that pleased the vegetarians, vegans, kosher-keepers and carnivores. And now for the MOST important part of the reunion: the classmates! There were 110 attendees, 30 of these were spouses. These were the people who didn’t use any of the excuses and most of them stepped out of their comfort zone to celebrate

and remember their HS days, to renew old friendships, reminisce and get re-acquainted with classmates they have forgotten. I don’t think that the attendees had any idea of just how great this reunion was going to be. I actually had to “force” a few of my friends, with whom I have kept in touch through the years, to attend this reunion and to “please do it just for me”. Bruce Unger told me that he told his wife that he will just be gone for about 2 hours at the most. He arrived at 12:20 thinking that the place would be empty and was shocked to see the huge amount of classmates who were already there. He recognized so many people and he told me he was completely overwhelmed with the emotion, the warmth and the camaraderie that filled the room. He stayed the full 5 hours! Carol Miller thanked me countless times for forcing her to attend the reunion: “thank you sooooooooooooo much! It was GRRRRRRRREAT!!!” Rather than having me tell you how terrific this reunion was, I want to include just a sampling of the e-mails and phone calls that we received filled with raves and kudos: -Leonard Reich: Congratulations!

You and your team did an exceptional job with the reunion. It was a wonderful day and a wonderful opportunity to spend time with important people from our past. I can only imagine how stressful the day must have been for the organizing team. As a young man you were known for your attention to detail and for your style and, fifty years later, those attributes have not changed. -Ronnie Beranbom Lewis and Herbie Lewis: we didn’t want to go but we went because we felt sorry for you. But were we surprised…we are still on an emotional roller coaster. -Judy Leipsner Davis: ….and a success it was. I had a great time. There are no words to describe how great it was to see so many familiar and dear faces after so many years. I am a bundle of emotion today with so many feelings. And it was a shock and very sad to see the classmates who are no longer with us. It makes you take a step back and be thankful. I could go on and on but I just want to thank you for all your work. -Karen Fox Markoe: Heartiest thanks. …it was worth it for all of us


Sweetheart Award. To HS sweethearts who married.

Ronnie Beranbom & Herbie Lewis

Dom Tuminaro, Lenny Reich and Rosalyn Brickman Shaoul.



(Continued from page 61) who connected and re-connected with friends. You did us a terrific service, and I (and the others) am enormously grateful…thanks for a joyful reunion. -Paul Jacobs: …couldn’t stop gabbing about the reunion event: the people we recognized pretty quickly and the people we didn’t (in spite of our photo IDs), our substantial accomplishments both professionally and personally, the memorial table that was set up to remember those friends that are gone and, most of all, the bonding, memories and laughter that bubbled up among us. For a moment…we went “home”. What a once-in-a-lifetime thrill, what a unique experience, what fun, what reflection! A million thanks to you, Lenore, Myrna and Stu for making it all possible. -Rosalyn Brickman Shaoul: Thank you so much for putting your heart into organizing our reunion and making it so successful. Your efforts helped many of us discover a piece of our history that was so essential in forming us, but was almost lost. -Brenda Kamen: Thanks a million for such a wonderful job! I am sure we all appreciate your work and will always love you for it. Had a ball. Was fantastic seeing old friends and making new connections. -Brenda Canal Nagel: An excellent job, above and beyond the call of duty! You did a great job on all of it! Thank you! -Arleen Cardile Vaccarino: Thanks again for everything. The reunion was great. I was happy to connect with long lost classmates and stroll down memory lane for a few hours. -Joy Mitchell Anastos: I want to thank you for the incredible job you and your committee did to pull off the most spectacular reunion for the class of 1959. It was so special to reconnect with old friends and poignant, as well, to see who is no longer with us. I very much appreciate the extra work you put into creating the list of “reunionites” as I do want to keep in contact with the many that I was friendly with. You and your committee helped bring back so many fond memories that I will continue to

relive and enjoy. With your vibrant nature and the way you personally connect with others continues to be the centerpiece of who you are. -Vicki Hochberg: I want to thank

you for giving all of us the chance to remember who we were then, and maybe see the difference time has made, and also how time made no difference at all. ….By the time I left I felt like the 16 year-old-me finally merged with the me of today. You are exactly the same: your energy, your social skills, your generosity to undertake something as grand and lovely. The details: music, awards, “In

Memoriam” table (hard to accept), gifts, booklets, name tags with photos…where do you get the energy? I hope you have gotten the appropriate amount of thanks. And

thanks to your team, as well, who all worked to make everyone feel welcome and loved. I imagine that even if people didn’t say so, they were all grateful to have been a part of it. Well, Vicki, we DID get the appropriate amount of thanks from so many people that I could not possibly include all of them. But I, and my


Joy Mitchell Anastos, Susan Katz Marin, Myrna Wener Rosen, Lenore Cymes, Edie Zimmerman Herman &

Annette Schulman Fogelman.

Vicki Hochberg; ready to fly. Marv Kaufman, Estelle Balitzer Miller, Stu Chimkin, Phyllis Citrin,

Lenore Cymes, Mel Citrin, Darlene Bregman Ehrenberg, Carol Miller Hellman, Myrna Wener Rosen & Paul Jacobs.

(Marv Kaufman; male with the most hair) (Darlene Bregman Ehrenberg; least changed female since HS)


(Continued from page 62) committee, feel that all our hard work and effort paid off because the end result was a fabulous reunion that we will remember forever. And now for the icing on the cake: Mrs. Esther Chad Abramson and her

husband Paul Abramson attended the reunion to the delight of everyone. For those few who do not know, Esther Chad Abramson was one of the greatest math teachers at CCHS.

When I invited Esther and Paul she told me that she wasn’t sure she would be able to make it because she has not been feeling well. But attend she did…and her glowing smile put a smile on all of our faces. It was a thrill and an honor to have them both share

in the celebration of our 50th year since we graduated from CCHS. It was obvious to see the love that was felt between Esther Chad Abramson and her old students. Esther called

me after the reunion and she raved and raved and said it was one of the highlights of her life and that she will remember that day forever. She was so overwhelmed with everyone thanking her for being there, for their warmth and for their stories they remembered about her. She said it was THE best reunion she had ever gone to…and she has gone to quite a few. Her call was very touching and I will always remember it. Will I ever organize another reunion? Never!!!

Mel Citrin 2164 Barnes Avenue


—————————————— Arnie landau, Noreen Weinbaum Pokras, Steve Edelstein,

Karen Fox Markoe and Peter Veres.

Mrs. Esther Chad Abramson, Nancy Kopell and Carol Miller Hellman.


CCHS planning to close for good in 2013.

Plans are in place to use the building as a Charter School

Charter schools are elementary or secondary schools in the United States that receive public money but have been freed from some of the rules, regulations, and statutes that apply to other public schools in exchange for some type of accountability for producing certain results, which are set forth in each school's charter. Charter schools are opened and attended by choice. While charter schools provide an alternative to other public schools, they are part of the public education system and are not allowed to charge tuition. Where enrollment in a charter school is over subscribed, admission is frequently allocated by lottery-based admissions. In a 2008 survey of charter schools, 59% of the schools reported that they had a waiting list, averaging 198 students. Some charter schools provide a curriculum that specializes in a certain field—e.g. arts, mathematics, etc. Others attempt to provide a better and more efficient general education than nearby public schools.



Collage of 1959 reunion attendees (made by Myrna Wener Rosen)

1st row; Neil Lawner, Bruce Unger and Mel Damast. 2nd row; Walter Srebnick, Jerry Myerson, Mike Kravitz, Mel Citrin and Sam Boodman. (Walter Srebnick; hippest male attire at reunion).



Ronald Zavattaro, Susan Flaks, Bruce Unger, Stu Flaks, Brenda Canal Nagel, Ellen Halbstein Passman. (Sweetheart Award to Susan & Stu Flaks; married HS sweethearts).

(Bruce Unger; award for least changed male since HS).

Diane Ginsberg Lane, Fran Ende Datz, Arleen Cardile Vaccarino, Leslie Steinhause Appelbaum and Sharon Ell Steinvurzel.

The number one street game, Skully.

Stu Chimkin and Linda Weintraub Arnstein Memorabilia Table



My name is Sherri Hughes. I am a CCHS 1975 graduate and third generation (also last) to live in Pelham Parkway. I am married to Alan Kauffman, BHSS 1974. Alan and I have two daughters, Alexa (19) and Sarina ( 17) and live in Westchester County. My mother, Rhoda Laine ( 2181 Barnes Avenue), graduated CCHS ~ 1953. My Aunt, Henrietta (Laine) Hanstein "Henny" graduated ~1955 and married Edward Hanstein (also a Barnes Avenue resident). I happily noted in the current edition of the Pelham Parkway Times m y 4 th g ra de t e acher Ms. Goldwasser. It brought back a flood of 4th grade memories and an urge to speak with her. Is there anyway to get in touch with her? If she would prefer not to give her number out I will share mine (914) 245-8368. Could you please pass the message on to her. I was one of her 4th grade students in PS105 1969 (I believe it was class 4-4). I also noted a photo of an old friend, Mitchell Small, and was wondering if you had his e-mail address. Thank you

Sherri Hughes Kaufman 2181 Barnes Avenue


—————————————— Good Morning... I was one of the Chicks... Phyllis Miller was also one of "us". I have been in contact with Joyce who lives in Dallas. Lorraine is my sister. She lives in Monroe Township New Jersey. Her married name is Talbert. She married someone from 2081 Cruger Avenue. Unfortunately Aaron died 5 years ago. He was a first cousin to Howie Goldstein (married to Adele Go ldberg who was Melv in Goldberg's sister) who I know is very active in PP get togethers, They are in

close contact with one another. Another PP lives in same community with my sister. Marcia Katz Felder... She married Arnold Felder(also PP born and bred). Arnold died about 2 years ago. Marcia, Muriel Blau (Larry Blau's sister), Leila Berman, Florence Golden (dont remember her maiden name) were all close friends. Unfortunately Leila and Muriel have died. I will give serious thought to your suggestion. Best regards for a happy and healthy New Year. Florance Kaufman Weisberg

CCHS 1956 (January) 2137 Wallace Avenue [email protected]

——————————–———– I paid to have this posted until this evening. The original obit had information about him being from The Bronx and talked about his art career. This is one hell of a coincidence, the

age in 2005, the place, the career… Just wanted to let everyone know I didn't make this up. Happy he is still with us. http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/s u n s e n t i n e l / o b i t u a r y . a s p x ?p a g e = l i f e s t o r y & p i d = 3 3 6 7 6 2 7 Obituary Powered by Legacy.com © Edward Sokol Share E-mail Sokol, Edward, 59, of West Palm Beach, FL died on March 29, 2005. All County Funeral Home & Crematory. Published in Sun-Sentinel on April 2, 2005

—————————–———– The latest issue arrived and I saw your notice about Eddie Sokol. The only problem is that he isn't dead. My sister had recently (early September) met with Eddie's brother and he mentioned that Eddie was living in Florida. I e-mailed his brother and he forwarded my e-mail to Eddie. I just got off the phone with Eddie and he's fine; he's living in Pompano Beach. Just thought you'd like to know.

Joseph Sarnoff 2185 Bolton Street


—————————————– Bubbles At our luncheons, we don't eat food, we eat memories. We're a group of guys, who got to know each other


E-MAILS

Left —1961 Joe Braunstein in Israel Above — same guy “grilling”


(Continued from page 66) more than 60 years ago. And friends like that don't come around again. We always tell the same old stories, and always end up laughing. We start our luncheons, looking and talking like a bunch of 70 year olds, but after about 15 minutes, I'm looking at teenagers. It's a feeling I can't get with anyone else. And that's why our luncheons are always great.

—————————–———– Hi Howard, Was surprised to see in the last PPTimes on the classified page 15, my twin grandsons picture, which was taken a couple of years. ago. To update, here is the lastest one taken with the addition of their brother Owen (23 months old) twins, Lucas & William Paulson 4 1/2 yrs. old. If you would to see more, I have 2 more grandchildren, I will send also. Thanks for keeping the PPTimes going. I will renew my subscription, 1st of new year.

Nancy Longhitano Shams Parkchester CCHS 1954

[email protected] ————————————––— Hi Howard, Sorry I haven't been able to get some other photos to you yet ... but, I have been working on a book, and I have been swamped. As soon as I can I will find them and get them to you. You mentioned sending me a print copy of the newspaper (with the whole "he's not dead" thing). i forgot to ask you .... when do you publish the next copy? By the way ... i certainly appreciate your efforts to remedy my alleged premature demise. In case you don't have it, my mailing address is: Edward Sokol 2900 North Course Drive Pompano Beach, Florida 33069 Thanks

Ed Sokol 2185 Bolton Street

[email protected] ——————————————

1955 Richie Okon, Jay Palefsky & Howie Lang.

Ruth Dauer Spodek’s Granddaughter Lindsay

1962 CCHS Blue Letter Day. Bill Schneiderman & Barry Schorr.

1961 Jay Radoff & Madeline Landman.


CCHS Class of 1970 Is have a reunion

September 25, 2010 at Graziella's Restaurant in White Plains, NY.

The cost is $80 per person. For information, please email

Nancy Lechner Udin at [email protected]

C 1 C 9 H 7 S 0

C 1 C 9 H 7 S 0


1 Ellen Anderman, Dorethia Auslander & Susan Osinoff 2 Ron Auslander 3 Bob Rosenthal & Ken Witkin 4 Al Greenberg & Lou Pleeter 5 Henny Levine, Barbara Reich & Annette Morris 6 Stan Hyams & Hesh Cohen 7 Fred Kahn & Jules Reich 8 Morty Anderman & Philly Berman 9 Selma Suna, Louise Hans & Carol Pleeter 10 Jeff Okon & Irv Damast 11 Stu Chimkin, Marvin Kaufman, Mel Citrin, Bruce Rund, Herb Lewis 12 Joel Belle & Stan Cohen


PICTURES (CAN YOU NAME WHO IS IN EACH PICTURE?)

12 11

10 9

8

7

6 5 4

3 2 1


PS96 1972-73 Fanny Seader (Alan’s Mom) Teacher

The Alan Seader Family. Standing — Amy Seader Shochat (daughter), Alan Seader, Millie Seader (my wife), Mark Seader (son), Joey is held by

his mom, Dara Seader (Mark's wife), Preston is standing in front of his dad, Jeffrey Seader (son), Anne Seader (Jeffrey's wife), in front of Anne are Jill Seader (Mark's daughter) and Patricia Seader (Jeff's daughter).

Patricia has the glasses. Seated — Lloyd Shochat (Amy's husband) holding Randy Shochat (Amy and Lloyd's son), my mother-in-law, Miriam Dorfman holding Andrew Seader (Mark and Dara's son), and David Seader (son) is holding

Jonah Shochat (Amy and Lloyd's other son).


Frances and Barney Leibowitz


Names of a few in the picture — Herbert Gerstenzang, Alan Seader, Stuart Warner, Alan Stutz, Eli Schneider, Harriet Dauer, Mona Weber, Steve Mintz, Dennis Weintraub, Eden Winnig, Arona Ball, Ira Capsuto, Marilyn Widlitz,

Linda Stallman, Mona Weber, Leslie Steinhouse, Steven Meltzer, Gary Chandler and Esther Kirshenbaum.


Kens Graduation Alice Tully Hall Brooklyn Law School June 4, 1997 David Silverman, Eve Silverman, Ken Silverman, Ellen Lloyd (Eve’s sister), & Harvey Silverman.

PS105 Teacher Mr. Gimpelson

1954 or 1955?



CCHS 1959 50 YEAR REUNION — Close-up of VERY HAPPY Reunion Attendees.

CCHS 1959 Reunion —– Smash Hit!

Christopher Columbus Class of 1963 Reunion Time

August 15 2009 A Reunion/Early 65th Birthday Celebration for the class of 1963

This summer in Manhattan. If you have stayed in contact with classmates from St Lucy’s, PS 105, 108, 83, 127, and 135

or maintained friendships with our contemporaries from Science, Clinton, Music and Art etc. they are welcome to join us as well.

For Information —— Contact —— Judi Lesser now Judi Kolton Judi — [email protected] or call (973) 218-0396

SAVE THIS DATE:

SUNDAY( BRUNCH) -AUGUST 15, 2010


CCHS GRADUATE

HELPS LOYOLA WIN THE NCAA

CHAMPIONSHIP

Read the story on the next page. (PS anybody know where Ron is?)




George Ireland, 88, Title-Winning Coach at

Loyola, Dies September 14, 2001

George Ireland, who coached Loyola University of Chicago to the 1 9 6 3 n a t i o n a l b a s k e t b a l l championship while taking a highly visible stride toward integration in college athletics, died last Friday in Addison, Ill. He was 88. Ireland coached for 24 seasons at Loyola, taking the Ramblers to the N a t i o n a l C o l l eg i a te A t h l e t i c Association tournament four times and to the National Invitation Tournament once during the 1960's. He had four 20-victory seasons during a five-year span in the 60's. But he was best remembered for the night in March 1963 when Loyola defeated Cincinnati, 60-58, in overtime for the N.C.A.A. championship at Freedom Hall in Louisville, Ky. The match up pitted a Loyola team that led the nation in scoring, averaging 91.8 points a game, against a Cincinnati team that was the two-time defending champion and the nation's best on defense, yielding 52.9 points a game. It proved to be one of the most thrilling N.C.A.A. title games. Loyola forced overtime after trailing by 15 points midway through the second half, then defeated Cincinnati on Vic Rouse's lay in of a rebound at the buzzer. But winning the title transcended athletic victory. Don Haskins, who coached a Texas Western team with an all-black starting lineup to the N.C.A.A. title in 1966 against Adolph Rupp's all-white Kentucky team, is recalled as a pioneer in integrating college basketball. But Ireland took important steps three years earlier. At a time when the 1960's civil rights struggle was still emerging, when segregation had yet to be broken, when college basketball was still predominately a white sport, Ireland had four black players in the starting lineup of his 1963 title team. Those four -- the all-American Jerry Harkness and Ron Miller, former

teammates at DeWitt Clinton High School in the Bronx, and Les Hunter and Rouse, who had played together at Pearl High School in Nashville -- together with the sole white starter, guard Johnny Egan of Chicago, played the entire 45 minutes against Cincinnati. ''There was an unwritten rule in basketball that you didn't take blacks, at least more than one or two, onto your team,'' Harkness remembered. ''George Ireland broke the rules.'' Ireland once said: ''A lot of these coaches hated the way I used so many blacks. They used to stand up at banquets and say, 'George Ireland isn't with us tonight because he's in Africa -- recruiting.'' A native of Madison, Wis., Ireland was a star guard at Notre Dame in the mid-1930's and was the senior captain when Ray Meyer, the future Hall of Fame coach at DePaul in Chicago, was a sophomore. Ireland coached basketball at Marmion Military Academy in Aurora, Ill., from 1936 to 1951, then became the Loyola coach, succeeding his former Notre Dame teammate John Jordan. Coaching at Loyola from 1951 to 1975, Ireland achieved a record of 321-255. He had more victories and defeats than any other coach in the university's history. Ireland's wife, Gert, died in 1998. He is survived by a son, Michael; two daughters, Kathy Van Dyck, a Loyola cheerleader in 1963, and Judy Schwieger; eight grandchildren; and four great-grandchildren. Ireland was a disciplinarian as a coach. ''I was tough on my players,'' he said, ''but they respected that. They called me the Man.'' He said that his adherence to strict standards paid off beyond basketball, noting that every player on his 1963 championship team graduated. ''I was selective in my recruiting,'' he once said. ''I don't have to go to the prisons to see the players I coached.'' Photos: George Ireland coached Loyola of Chicago to the national championship in 1963, left, beating Cincinnati in one of the N.C.A.A.'s

most exciting title games. (Photographs by Associated Press) Correction: September 27, 2001, Thursday An obituary on Sept. 20 about George Ireland, former basketball coach at Loyola of Chicago, misidentified the Bronx high school attended by Ron Miller, one of his players. It was Christopher Columbus, not De Witt Clinton. ————————————–————

March 19, 2008 CHICAGO - The NCAA will sponsor a special screening of the documentary "Game of Change," that chronicles the historic 1963 NCAA regional semifinal game between Loyola University Chicago and Mississippi State University. That screening will take place on March 29 in Detroit, the same weekend the NCAA Regional will be played in town at Ford Field. Produced by Pathway Produc-tions and Jerald Harkness, the son of former Loyola All-American Jerry Harkness, the documentary will detail events surrounding that 1963 game that was named one of the Top 25 De-fining Moments in the first 100 years of the NCAA in 2006. On March 15, 1963, the Ramblers and Mississippi State were to play a NCAA second-round game in East Lansing, Mich., but that game almost didn't take place. Sports programs representing Mississippi teams were not allowed to play integrated teams, but MSU coach Babe McCarthy got his team out of Mississippi under the cover of darkness before an injunction, prohibiting his team from playing a Loyola team that started four African-American players - Jerry Harkness, Les Hunter, Ron Miller and Vic Rouse - be served. Loyola prevailed in that historic contest with Mississippi State, 61-51, thanks to 20 points from Harkness, and the Ramblers wouldn't look back en route to the only NCAA Division I men's basketball title ever won by a team from Illinois. ————————————————–

[email protected] WWW.PELPARKTIMES.ORG 631/979-4985


CLASSY CLASSIFIEDS


Sandy & Leo Kornfeld 1959

Sandy & Leo Kornfeld 2009

Arnold Landau

Rachel & Max H&H Sackelman Grandkids

Max parents — Ellen & Chuck Wallace Rachel parents — Leslie & Shaun Seibel

Susan Schoenfeld Wood


1958 Singer’s Hotel Spring Valley, NY Irene Borah Clark



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Permit 280 Lanc., PA 17604

THE PELHAM PARKWAY TIMES

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Mailing Cover Front cover will be page 1 replaces page 1

The National Jewish Sports Hall Of Fame And Museum On Sunday April 18, 2010 will be Honoring

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Jon Scheyer [email protected] WWW.PELPARKTIMES.ORG TEL 631/979-4985

©2010 pelparktimes

THE PELHAM PARKWAY TIMES Howard R. Cohen Publisher Volume 16 Issue 3 Chuck Gitlin Website Director

CCHS Class of 1963 Reunion (see page 71)


1. Building (s) I lived in— 2. Friends in my building (s)— 3. Games we played— 4. Stores I shopped in— 5. Girls/Boys I liked— 6. Schools I attended— 7. Your favorite story about school— 8. The best day I ever had— 9. My Hobby is— 10. I wish I could locate— 11. My Birthday is mm/dd/yyyy (yyyy is optional!)— 12. I married _____ _____ on —mm/dd/yyyy— 13. This year I would like to?— 14. I was a team/club member of— 15. other team/club members were— 16. Would like to say hello to— 21. Comments—

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MEMORIES OF PELHAM PARKWAY

Inside front cover goes behind front cover (mailing cover)

To Grandma’s House Through the park in gleaming sunshine sounds of life and death all mingled: Mothers rocking squalling infants, laughing, shouting, running children, rumbling wheels of passing skaters bobbling, mumbling senile ancients. Avid chess games at stone tables, sudden gasps break concentration, rustling red and gold leaves falling, crackling sweetly with each footfall. Gentle windsongs float on breezes, humming the fresh sweet music of life. Reaching grandma’s ancient building, ground floor shul beneath her apartment, I climb the stairs and ring the buzzer, I smell the garlic, steak and french fries. That’s the way she says she loves me. So damn the roaches that share my table. Evening comes with hugs and kisses she shoos me out to miss the dark. I’m warm inside from all she gave me. I make my way through the silent park.

By Judy Rosenblatt Barrat copyright© November, 2010



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CCHS CLASS OF 1963 —– REUNION 8/15/2010 CCHS CLASS OF 1970 —– REUNION 9/25/2010

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