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By Homeowner Harry (Another
in a series of observations about life in West Midwood as it is lived today…or
maybe not)
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Every
weekend between May and September for the past 25 years, my wife would insist
we drive to Rockaway Beach. Notice the phrase “weather permitting” did not
appear in the prior sentence, because for “she who must be obeyed” it would
take an actual drenching rain to postpone a trip. The ritual was always the
same: I would park the car by the sea wall somewhere in the uncrowded Beach
130’s or 140’s, put the blinkers on, walk the gear down to the surf and plant
the umbrella. When our son accompanied us, in a time before adolescence
outlawed mingling with - UGH! - parents, this would be our cue to shout in
unison “we claim this spot on behalf of the Enright Clan!” Then we’d set up the blanket and chairs
and I’d drive the car back to the huge parking lot at Reiss Park, a half-mile
away, since there was no parking allowed anywhere else on weekends. It used to
cost a buck to park there all day and then somehow morphed to a sawbuck just
this year. By the way, using “sawbuck” to signify a ten dollar bill stems from
the Roman numeral X that once appeared on the bill which looked like a sawhorse
that carpenters use to hold wood. I have a whole book of these explanations for
obscure words/phrases, which frankly is the hard cover I would take to a desert
island, with my Van Morrison & The Chieftains album, if allowed only one of
each. So where was I? Oh yeah, these were some of the thoughts I had during my
walk back from the parking lot on September 29th – sometimes I would
take the beach path, other times, like that windy Saturday afternoon I’d just
saunter down Rockaway Beach Boulevard – this time with my pocket camera in
hand. Hmmm…I wonder if these Rockaway malls were inspired by Albemarle and
Glenwood Roads? Click. .jpg)
A
candy wrapper blew by.
M&Ms. Mmmmm. I love
M&Ms. Yup, twenty minutes of alone time, thinking Homer Simpson thoughts,
quality walking time, unhurried (unless I heard thunder) – my favorite time of
the summer as I contemplated the Everything Bagel with cream cheese from
Fairway in Red Hook that I’d be eating shortly… .jpg)
About
175 bagels before then, in August 2000, back on another beautiful sunny
afternoon – no cloud in the sky, no breeze at all – we were baking on the beach
and I was catching my breath after spending an hour in the waves making sure
Jamie didn’t suddenly attempt to swim the Atlantic. Gradually, we became aware
of a commotion down toward the cyclone fence that demarcated Riis Park – sand
and debris were swirling around and people were yelling and then suddenly
umbrellas were flying into the air and the maelstrom was coming right for us.
With one hand I grabbed our umbrella pole and threw my arm around Virginia and
Jamie, expecting us to be transported to Kansas any second…And then it passed.
As we wiped sand off our faces, we saw the windy spout dissipate quickly until
only 50 feet beyond our position, it was gone. Since this was the age before
mobile devices and broadband, we had to wait to get home to our AOL dial-up to
find out we had just experienced a “sun devil” or “whirling dervish” apparently
created by superheated air above the sun-baked parking lot rising to meet the
cool air above Rockaway. .jpg)
A
year later as I recall, we raced across the Gil Hodges Memorial Bridge to
escape a very dark thunderstorm, which soon overtook us and pelted the car with
large hailstones and terrific winds. I crawled along at 15 MPH down Flatbush
Avenue while the women in the car pleaded for me to pull over, but I know
Brooklyn drivers – stop in zero visibility and you get rear-ended – best to
move slowly ahead in the right lane with blinkers and brights on…As we drove
out of the darkness, we saw a funnel cloud off to the left going toward
Midwood. Man. That made us all yearn for the sun devil thing – that was “kewl”.
The mini-tornado was more in the realm of “Did we just almost die?” Definitely not cool. .jpg)
But
on September 29th, 2012, all was calm if a bit chilly on the
beach. We dressed in hoodies,
reading and watching the waves – a coastal storm 500 miles out in the Atlantic
was kicking up some big ones - delighting some wet-suited surfers nearby. I
estimated only about two dozen folks were on the beach that stretched from Riis
Park at Beach 149th Street all the way to the start of the boardwalk
at Beach 126th. We were sitting around Beach 142nd,
another mall street - sort of the dividing line between Neponsit and Belle
Harbor. The weekend calendar was filling up for October and the weather was
changing, so this was probably our last visit of the year.
I
couldn’t help but reminisce about the years gone by and got antsy to take a
walk. So I left Virginia, engrossed in a thick novel, and took a stroll down the beach to the boardwalk, past the
place where Jamie and I used to get “ice-ies”…past the Flight 587 Memorial to
the hundreds of victims of the November 11, 2011 plane crash on Beach 131st
Street…Then further along, where the old Belle Harbor Twin used to stand on
Beach 116th in the 1970s – nice place to take a date since you
couldn’t beat the romantic atmosphere of a moonlight walk on the boardwalk
after the flick…Then down to the shopping mall and fast food joints by the
water. I remember Jamie and I scoffing down burgers in the outside seating area
right on Jamaica Bay. Best ambience of any Wendy’s we ever ate at. .jpg)
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I
came back along Newport Avenue and grabbed a snack on Beach 129th –
the only commercial strip west of 116th if you don’t count the
concession stands at Riis Park. Many’s the time I grabbed a slice here on long
bike rides when I was rehabbing from a foot injury – always good to set
yourself a nice destination at a time like that. I’d get the slice to go and
pedal down to the beach, enjoying the sights and wondering how the heck I was
going to find the energy to ride back home.By
the time I got back to the beach, it was much windier and the waves were about
ten feet from our umbrella. No sooner had I plopped myself into the beach chair
when a rogue wave engulfed us – our umbrella, blanket, chairs, bags, and all,
creating a soggy mess. Virginia and I looked at each other. “You think the
ocean’s telling us something?” I asked.
“Time to go,” Virginia sighed mournfully, another season passed…
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They have to come back. Just like the Jersey Shore, just like Red Hook, just like Coney Island and the rest of our battered seashores. The sea is what makes living in these parts bearable. Or, as my son used to sing, changing the Ramones lyrics just a little bit, “It’s not hard, not far to reach, we gotta boogie down to Rockaway Beach.”
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Year in Review/Odds ‘N Ends. I’d like to take a minute here to recommend Shop Rite on McDonald as the best alternative until Fairway comes back…Go Brooklyn Nets!...Also thanks to Arthur Rhine for pointing out that in the story on Duke Snider, in which I wrote that Jackie Robinson retired rather than be traded to the Giants after the 1956 season, “Several days before the Dodger brass announced that they were trading Jackie to the Giants, he had already sold the rights to an exclusive story regarding his retirement to Look Magazine. Jackie had decided he was retiring because he felt his skills were fading and Look made him keep it secret in order to maximize sales.” So another piece of Dodger folklore bites the dust – just like the notion that Walter O’Malley schemed to move the team to Los Angeles when it now appears Robert “Let’s Take The Car” Moses was the true culprit…And finally, a shout out to all the folks who worked so hard in the days after Sandy to clear our streets of all the downed trees. Sanitation, Parks, Fire, Police, thank you. Especially the Sanitation Department – you guys rocked! And I cannot say enough good things about the efforts of neighbors to provide help to those battered by Sandy in Red Hook and Rockaway. I am proud to be a West Midwoodite…er, I mean Argyle Heightsian. Here’s to a happy and healthy 2013 for all!
