Memories of my Father 2019

I originally posted this on July 11, 2017.  Yesterday I read a blog post about City of Water Day and the memories came back........ memories of my father, who worked for the U.S Department of Agriculture Cotton Exports/Imports office on Governors Island.  He would tell me stories of taking a ferry to Governor's Island from lower Manhattan and then back home.  Sometimes, the commute got pretty rough.

Around 1963, the office closed and my father was offered a transfer to Chicago. He didn't take it.  He loved New York City.  Except for his military service, he spent his entire life there.

Here's my post from 2017:

On one Memorial Day recently, when a website called Ancestry.com allowed people to search for free, I took advantage of it to find out more about my heritage.

I looked up my grandfather on my mother's side and found (definitely) his World War II draft registration and (possibly) his World War I draft registration.  For the first time in my memory, I saw his signature on the World War II document.

More intriguing, I found my maternal grandfather's town of birth - something I never knew - but it doesn't seem to exist -"Altsandas, Austria" - another mystery for a later date. (I am not sure what country it is in today, but it was Austria-Hungary when he came to this country around 1903). Last year, a blogger did some research, and it appears this town, and its residents, may have been wiped out by the Nazis during World War II. [since then, I have more reason to believe that my educated guess, sadly, was correct.]  At any rate, I can't seem to find it anywhere online.  I've said before that I owe my very existence to the United States and all those who fought in World War II for our freedom, and I'm serious about that.

I wondered why my mother's father had to register for the draft.  He was born in 1878, too old to serve in the U.S. Army in 1942, but I found out there was an event called the Fourth Registration, where all males from ages 45 to 64 were registered.  That's how desperate things were in 1942. 

I then looked up my father's World War Two enlistment record and found what follows.  After the war he worked for several years on Governor's Island, part of New York City, where his enlistment took place.  What I know of his enlistment is that he was already considered disabled (a childhood illness destroyed his hearing in one ear) and had tried to enlist without success.  But, by 1942, we needed anyone who could serve.

State of Residence:	New York
County or City:	Kings[Brooklyn]
Enlistment Date:	6 Aug 1942
Enlistment State:	New York
Enlistment City:	Fort Jay Governors Island
Term of Enlistment:	Enlistment for the duration of the War or other emergency, plus six months, subject to the discretion of the President or otherwise according to law
Component:	Selectees (Enlisted Men)
Source:	Civil Life
Education:	2 years of high school
Civil Occupation:	Semiskilled occupations in manufacture of miscellaneous electrical equipment, n.e.c.
Marital Status:	Single, with dependents
Height:	69
Weight:	130

There was Governors Island again.
More memories.  Why would my father have been single, with dependents?  I did know the answer to that question.  Because he helped to raise his youngest brother after his mother died.  Just as he raised me after his wife, my mother, died when I was 12.

I have so many memories of my father - the walks we took, the movie he took me to the day I graduated Elementary School (West Side Story), and then how life changed for him as he grew older, and ended up in assisted living in Brooklyn.

Right now, of all my aunts and uncles, only one survives - the man who my father helped to raise.  I visited him in 2002, and my uncle told me he owed a great debt to my father, who had sacrificed so much for him.  It was a debt he felt he could never repay.

And, as for me, I didn't know how much I owed to my father when I was a teen fighting to breakaway from him.  But I do know now.



I finally got to visit Governors Island, many years ago, for a couple of hours.  Perhaps I'll blog about that one day.

Sunsets of August #SkywatchFriday

I've not been sleeping well recently.  I woke up at sunrise on Monday, just in time to see a spectacular sunrise through the bathroom window.  I wasn't about to run outside in my nightgown, so I had to let it go on without me recording it.

Maybe it looked something like this, taken on August 26, 2016.  So, I thought,  why not take a small trip through my iPhone camera roll and visit the archives?

Soon after this picture I took a trip with my spouse into the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York.

Skaneateles Lake, New York, as sunset approaches.

Just a few minutes later.

Canandaigua Lake.

It's nice to visit the archives every once in a while.

Join Yogi and the other bloggers who contribute each week to #SkywatchFriday.

Summer Camilla #ThursdayTreeLove

Our local Stewardia pesudocamellia, or Stewardia, or summer camellia, is in bloom at our local botanical garden in Binghamton, New York.

This is not a common tree where I live.

Its mottled bark is hard to see in this picture, where I tried to capture most of the tree.  It reminds me a little of the bark of crepe myrtle, a beautiful summer blooming shrub that thrives in the southeast United States.

The crepe myrtle is one of two bushes I wish I could grow in our zone 5b climate. It does grow downstate in the New York City area, although those bushes are much smaller than its southern relatives.

The other bush I wish I could grow is the camilla.   This tree above is actually a relative of the camilla so beloved of people in the South of the United States. Unlike this summer camilla tree, the camilla blooms in the winter and early spring.

Before its last winter

Several years ago, I tried to grow a camilla called April Rose, a variety that was claimed might be hardy enough for my yard.  I periodically reported on how it was doing, but not recently.  And here's why:

It was not to be, this particular impossible dream.  I bought her several years ago.  By this spring, April Rose only had one leaf left.  In the past week, we have reluctantly accepted that our impossible dream is dead.  Yet, maybe we can still dream impossible dreams.  Maybe, one day, we will try again.

In the meantime, the summer camilla tree above survives, several miles away.

Sometimes, you can step outside of your comfort zone.  But trees may not be able to do the same.

Join Parul and other tree lovers each second and fourth Thursday of the month for #ThursdayTreeLove.

Natural Colors #WordlessWednesday

One thing almost all humans enjoy doing is eating.  For your viewing pleasure, the natural rainbow of a New York State farmers market in the first week of July.

Even the building provides its own color.   Most vendors are indoors but I preferred to take outdoor pictures.

Carrots and beets.

Strawberries.  Strawberries were not a success here this year - too much rain.  What is left is expensive.

Garlic.

Mushrooms.

What dishes would you make with these veggies?  Isn't it wonderful that my readers enjoy so many different cuisines?

Please join Esha and Natasha - take a break from writing with #WordlessWednesday.

Cricket Day 2019

One of the nice things I've been able to do in my 10 years of blogging is record when I hear the first crickets chirping each year.

The chirp of the crickets is the first sign of fall coming, and it always makes me a little sad.  I like to think summer is endless.  What a fantasy (here in upstate New York.)

(This Elmshorn rose has nothing to do with this story - I just thought it was pretty).


I didn't start out intending to do this, but it's turned out to be quite a record, this almost annual occasion I used to call "C" Day.

Here are some cricket milestones of the past:

July 29, 2009
July 22, 2010
July 30, 2011 
then, there were two dates in 2012, perhaps due to an early spring
May 21, 2012
July 25, 2012
August 3, 2014
July 28, 2015 
July 24, 2016 
July 31, 2018

Something strange happened in July of 2010, but they were here for good by July 22.

This year, 2019? I thought I heard them last week.  Yesterday morning, I knew.  I heard them. It's official.  July 8, 2019.

Will they go away and come back later in the month, as they did in 2012?  No telling.

It's time for what I think of as the second half of summer.  But wait!  The first half has barely begun!

My blog, with the Garden Bloggers Bloom Day meme I participate in each 15th of the month has become a kind of garden journal.  I'm no good at diaries or journals, but blogging is something I do keep up with. For now, anyway.

So, what does this pattern of dates mean?  Not much, perhaps.  There are other markers of changing climate, such as the trees turning color later and later each year.   Also, the fall color show seems to be getting worse and worse.

But for now, I know the end of summer is approaching.  It isn't here yet.  But it will be.  Nature has reminded us, year after year, that nothing is permanent.

Independence #MusicMovesMe

It's Monday and it's time for some music!

Who are the #MusicMovesMe bloggers? We are bloggers who blog about music each Monday and if you have music to share with us, you are most welcome to join! (Music Posts Only on this music train, please!)   First, there is XmasDolly,   Her head co-conductor is Cathy of Curious as a Cathy and co-conductors are:   Stacy of Stacy Uncorked, and (finally) me.  Callie of JAmerican Spice joins from time to time. 

Our guest conductor for the month of July is Driller AA of Driller's Place.

For our theme today he has picked:  "July 7 songs that celebrate your Independence, personal or national“

It's hard to believe singer Leslie Gore was so young when she recorded this hit that celebrates the power of women and their ability to act independently. From 1963: You Don't Own M, a song that was a true declaration of independence for those times.

Gloria Gaynor sings (to the delight of this lover of disco music) "I Will Survive".

Here's one for the men.

The Chairman of the Board singing the iconic "My Way".

Next, here's ELO doing "Don't Bring Me Down": this is not the official music video, but the person who did it, I  think, did a fantastic job.

Deserving of a belated happy birthday is the country where I was born and where I have lived all my life, the United States of America.  It deserves its own songs.

Let's dance to James Brown's "Living in America" from the movie Rocky IV.

I can't imagine what my grandparents felt when they saw the Statue of Liberty after a long voyage from Europe.  If they hadn't made that voyage I would not be alive today.  Neil Diamond sings "Coming to America".

This is my all time favorite patriotic song.  Never mind air guitar, I want to play air piccolo.

Finally, sung by the man who wrote the song, "This Land is Your Land", Woody Guthrie. To many, this has become an unofficial national anthem.

That's a patriotic wrap.  Next Monday, July 15, is Garden Bloggers Bloom Day. I may be joining the linky on Sunday with a few flower pictures for you on Monday. 

See you then!

This Week in New York Wildflowers

A week's worth of walking on the Vestal Rail Trail, Vestal, New York, produces not only physical fitness but looks into nature.

Rubus odoratus is a wildflower I first discovered several years ago, and I found it blooming today. 

This is also known as the purple flowering raspberry.  Although it is not a raspberry, it is a member of the large rose family.  I understand the fruit, while it looks like one, doesn't have much of a taste.  The leaves are maple like and that is what first attracted me to this years ago.  I've also learned it is an important flower for the bumble bee.

Speaking of true bramble fruit, I used some special effects with this picture but it appears nature beat me to it.  See the middle where a fruit once rested?

Elderberry, so very fine.  This bush is close to the end of its flowering season and soon enough, the tiny berries will be ripe.  How I miss being able to pick these from my neighbor's land when I lived in Northwest Arkansas, although it's been over 30 years now.

Last week, I found one wild rose still in bloom.  It wasn't, today.

And finally, there's a mystery flower.   I should know what this is but I don't.

Walking isn't just about walking.  It's for fresh air, discovery, and, yes, learning.

What did you do today?

The Mad Ending

I am in mourning.  Mad Magazine is going to cease publication (more or less) later this summer.  First, no more newstand sales. Then, later in the year, almost no new material.

I remember reading Mad magazine (a satirical magazine that started to publish, as a horror comic book, the year I was born) all through my childhood and teen years. The man I met in college and ended up marrying also loved Mad magazine, and his youngest sibling (12 years younger than he is) loved Mad also.  The YA section of our local library still carries the magazine.  If my son (who is in his late 20's now) ever got into it, he never told us.

Eventually, my spouse and I stopped reading Mad, but we spent part of yesterday afternoon reminiscing.  It can't be.  Perhaps we thought Mad would always be there.

Tell me this ain't so.  For so many of us, it was part of our formative years, even Weird Al.

It makes me wonder about Al Jaffee - still cartooning for Mad at age 98.  What will he do now?
Yes, age 98. 

MAD (as many of us called it) was the fountain of youth to many of its artists. Mort Drucker (who is "retired") is 90.  Sergio Aragonés is 81.  Some others now deceased (Dave Berg, for example) drew for Mad for over 50 years.  But Al Jaffee is the iron man of the lot.

I don't even know how to begin to list Al Jaffee's accomplishments.  Perhaps what he is most noted for, though, is inventing (and still designing!) the Mad Fold-In . How many of us got our latest Mad magazine, and tried so hard to do the fold in without mangling the magazine.

This video from Beck shows fold ins if you don't know the theory, and one mentions Al Jaffee.

 When Al turned 85, comic Steven Colbert had a cake made for him.  When the center portion was pushed out, making it a kind of fold in, the cake read...well, look for yourself.

Al, you are inspiring all of us.

But, back to the demise of this satiric magazine.  In our world gone mad, perhaps we don't need a magazine called Mad any more. 

Perhaps our entire daily lives are an entire Mad magazine.

I have one remaining question:  what sound should I use in mourning Mad magazine?

Are you a former (or present) reader of Mad?  I'd love to know your memories of Mad in the comments.

Stormwatch #SkywatchFriday

 I celebrated a quiet 4th of July (the birthday of my country, the United States) with my spouse, and had my son over for a BBQ.  We decided not to go to a baseball game and swelter, waiting for the fireworks.

I have no fireworks photos for you, nor pictures of baseball.

But sometimes, nature provides its own fireworks, as it did last week with thunderstorms all around us..

Storm clouds appeared in the east.

It was late in the day, and it had just rained.

The cloud's reflections appeared in puddles in the road.

At this time of the year, I don't have a good view of the sunset because it is blocked by trees.  But, it was nice seeing the light reflect off the clouds.

This morning, I woke up to what promises to be another hot, humid day.  Summer is here at last.

Joining Yogi and the other watchers of the sky each Friday for #SkywatchFriday.

Three Cheers for Independence

It is Independence Day here in the United States.

We like to say "Three cheers for the

Red

White

and Blue (skies).

Our liberty - our country - is in danger even as I write these words.  We seem to have lost our way and each day our country seems more divided.

Today, I offer another viewpoint which I hope will make you think.  One is from a poet of the 20th century.  The other is my thoughts after reading that comic Arte Johnson passed away yesterday at the age of 90.  I enjoyed his characters on the TV show Laugh-In so much. 

The German soldier who always said "Verrrry interesting."

The show Laugh-In was one of the ways the United States dealt with the news of the late 60's and early 70's.  The Vietnam War, rampant inflation, the decline and fall (and almost-impeachment) of Richard Nixon, and more.  Sometimes things seemed hopeless.

But we always pulled through, somehow.

I can only hope that we weather the troubles of today and emerge stronger.

To my readers in the United States, may you have a happy Fourth of July.

Spring Nostalgia #WordlessWednesday

Today I wanted to take a short detour back into spring skies.

Bradford pears in bloom in Binghamton, New York, this past May. 

Tomorrow is our nation's birthday.  Today I am proud to show you some of its beauty.

Join Esha and Natasha for #WordlessWednesday.

Tomorrow - three cheers for the Red, White and Blue.

The Miracle Boys of Summer

With age comes nostalgia.  In my mind, they will be forever young.  Even if you don't like baseball, please stick around for this story.

I grew up in the Bronx in the 1950's and 1960's.  The New York City I was born into had three major league teams.  The teams were the New York Yankees, the Brooklyn Dodgers and the New York Giants.

The year I was born, the Yankees played the Dodgers in the World Series, and the Yankees won. In fact, until 1959, the World Series featured at least one New York City team.  Sometimes both were New York City teams.

But by the time I was old enough to discover and start loving baseball, those days were over. As it happens, neither of my parents were baseball fans, but I managed to discover the sport.  Meanwhile,the Dodgers and the Giants fled New York City for California.  There was only one team left in town, the Bronx Bombers (nickname for the Yankees) and I became a Yankees fan.

In 1962, New York City gained a second team - the New York Mets.  Managed by the former Yankees manager Casey Stengel and populated with a combination of young players and players way past their prime (some of them from the Dodgers), they quickly gained the love of New York City fans.  Lovable, yes.  But champions they were not.

They were bad.  No, they were BAD.  Their first season, they won 40 games and lost 120. The second year they improved, winning 51 games (and losing 111).  For several years, they were mired in mediocrity, but the love of their fans never wavered.  And, during that time period, I abandoned the Yankees and turned to the New York Mets.  The Amazin' Mets.

Then, along came 1969.  In a series of what seemed to be miracles, the Mets started to win game after day (that year, they won 100 games) as the front runner Cubs faded.  The Mets united a city that seemed to be deteriorating daily.   My spouse was at the game where they won the pennant against the Braves.  I cheered from the classrooms I was attending as a high school senior.

Then, in one final miracle, they went to the World Series - and won in five games (the Series is a best four of seven).

This past weekend, the 1969 Mets were given the keys to the city by the Mayor.   It was a weekend of memories, a weekend of nostalgia.

It's been 50 years.  I am a senior citizen now and no longer a baseball fan.  But this brought me back to a special time.  I wish I could have been at Citi Field, but it wasn't all joy. The years have not been kind to all of the Miracle Mets, just as the years aren't necessarily kind to us.

Not all of  the 1969 Mets were there. Their manager, former Dodger Gil Hodges, died at the age of 47. Their general manager (Johnny Murphy) died in 1970.  One of their stars, Tommy Agee, died in 1981 at age 58.  Another, Tug McGraw (better known to many as Tim McGraw's father) died from brain cancer in 2004 at the age of 59 . Donn Clendenon, who became a lawyer after his playing days were over, is no longer with us.  Ed Charles died last year. 

Tom Seaver, the Hall of Fame pitcher, has dementia (he wasn't able to attend).  Eddie Kranepool recently had a kidney transplant.  

And there are those who are still active in their communities such as Cleon Jones, who was 26 when he played in 1969.  Now he is 86 and a community volunteer, still active in making where he lives in Alabama a better place for its residents.

A weekend of nostalgia over, we all return to everyday.  Time marches on, and we know there will be no 75th anniversary with the original players.  Time marches on.

But for this weekend, it was a chance to look back at our youth, our childhoods.

Oh Canada Oh Music #MusicMovesMe #blogboost

 It's the first day of July (rabbit rabbit!) and time for some music!  It's also the first day of the July Ultimate Blog Challenge.  Regardless of where you came from, I thank you for visiting me.

Now, it's time to rock!  But first an introduction to me, and to (more on that later) Canada Day.

Who are the #MusicMovesMe bloggers? We are bloggers who blog about music each Monday and if you have music to share with us, you are most welcome to join! (Music Posts Only on this music train, please!)   First, there is XmasDolly, who is sick and hopefully will be returning soon.  Her co-conductors are:   Stacy of Stacy Uncorked, Cathy of Curious as a Cathy and (finally) me.  Callie of JAmerican Spice blogs from time to time.  

Our guest conductor for the month of July is Driller AA of Driller's Place.  Welcome, Driller AA!

For our theme today he has picked: "Your Pick"  Since this is Canada Day in our neighbor to the north, I decided to (mostly) feature songs by Canadian artists.

First up, Rush.  There are so many songs of theirs that I love.  So I decided on this one:  Subdivisions. It's such a powerful song.  Listen to the lyrics closely.  It came out in 1982, but the lyrics are just as meaningful in 2019.

This next song came out in 1970 and - you guessed it - it's just as meaningful in 2019.  Joni Mitchell and Big Yellow Taxi.

Neil Young has many hits, but the most meaningful to me is this one, from 1989.  Rockin' in the Free World.''

When it came to the Guess Who, it took me a while to make up my mind.  So many good songs (some pretty political). I chose a song that has Canada as its topic - Runnin' Back to Saskatoon.

Songwriter Leonard Cohen was born near Montreal, Canada.  I haven't posted this song in so long, and I don't think I posted this version, either.  Cohen's voice is...well, you just have to hear it.

Getting a little grim?  Let's lighten it up with a duo.  Half of it is Canadian.  Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber in I Don't Care.  

I end this with Triumph and "Fight the Good Fight".

Happy Canada Day to my Canadian readers - have a piece of cake for me. 

Day one of the Ultimate Blog Challenge #blogboost.

RIP Luis Alvarez

Such a simple post to write about such a complex topic.

I don't understand how 9/11 can turn into a political football every several years, as first responders from the tragic events of September 11, 2001 must come to Congress and beg for continued funding for a fund that helps pay for their medical treatments.  This fund has to be renewed every few years.

Earlier this month, a man by the name of Luis Alvarez came and testified.  He was dying of colorectal cancer, having undergone 68 chemo treatments.  It is estimated some 50,000 people are or have suffered from exposure to 9/11 dust or chemicals.

Alvarez was a New York City policeman, at one time serving on their bomb squad.  Not only did he respond on 9/11 but he worked on a human chain of people, day after day, who tried to recover what was left of the dead.  I had connections to some of these dead, and I know some of my readers had a connection, too.

Alverez went into hospice care after his testimony.  He passed away yesterday at the age of 53.

Faithful unto death.

Rest in peace.

Sustainable Saturday - Still Doubleplusungood

In July of 2009 (the first year of my blog) I blogged about an incident where Amazon.com "disappeared" Kindle copies of the book 1984 by George Orwell.  This book, written in 1949 by the late George Orwell, was a warning against totalitarianism and the ability of governments to manipulate information.

In the world of 1984, there was no Internet.  But there were telescreens in each home that had to stay on constantly and they were two way - you watched them but Big Brother (yes, that was where that name came from) watched you, in turn.  There was constant emotional manipulation in a daily ceremony called the Two Minute Hate, where Party members had to watch a film about the Party's enemies and scream out their hate in a period of two minutes.

Constant surveillance.  Information manipulation.  Sound familiar?

Think about our modern world for a minute.  Websites and their contents can disappear or change in a minute.   We ponder these questions:  Are our virtual assistants, Siri and Alexa (among others) secretly listening to our conversations?  Recording our questions? (The answer to this last one, incidentally, is "yes" for both Siri and Alexa.)  Is there tracking software that can follow what we say on Facebook or Twitter, ready for the future use of a totalitarian leader?

I just read today that Microsoft is about to shut off its ebook DRM servers.  They are getting out of that business and the books ("protected" by a technology called DRM) will no longer work.

Customers will get refunds but - if books can be turned off, their readers can be monitored.

What does privacy mean anymore in our electronic world?  Or ownership?

Here's my post from 2009, with some edits:

Doubleplusungood, dudes

This gives me a bit of that Big Brother feeling.

For all of you lucky enough to study the book "1984" in high school back in the 1960's, there are certain things in this book that stuck with you forever. The present generation would not be impressed but this book was absolutely chilling in its depiction of a world where a dictatorship totally controlled all sources of information, complete with a Ministry of Truth whose bureaucrats labored to continuously revise all written records to reflect the current Party line. To control thought, a new language called Newspeak was introduced. Words and thought were so short in Newspeak that one could spit sentences out without giving a thought to what one was actually saying.

Of course, nowadays we manipulate photos with ease via programs such as Photoshop and can manipulate electronic records with just as much ease.

And, apparently, we can buy an electronic book and download into our Kindle, and Bi...I mean, Amazon.com, can take it back for whatever reason.

When's the last time your local bookstore knocked down your door to grab back a book you legally paid for?

How ironic (not that this is exactly not my original thought) that the book they "vanished" was....1984. (Along with another Orwell classic, "Animal Farm".)

For the record:
1. This was due to a copyright infringement issue, not censorship and
2. Amazon.com duly refunded monies paid to the customers affected.

However, when they sent emails with the refund notices, some customers claimed Amazon never bothered to explain what was going on.

 Can amazon.com take stuff back whenever they want? Maybe we should just stick to the old fashioned books that clutter up the house?

If not Big-Brotherish, it is certainly creepy.

Tree Skies #SkywatchFriday

As summer moves spring aside here in upstate New York (and all through the Northern Hemisphere), the flowering trees are almost done.  And the rain has stopped, at least for now. replaced by heat.

Shall we look at skies and trees both, today?  It's so wonderful to see blue skies at last.

There are the catalpas. They are beatiful whether sunset is approaching...

...or the sun is still shining.

And then there is the basswood, or linden.  It has a sweet scent, and small, powerful blooms. Call this a linden sky.

Call this beauty.

The Korean lilacs are on their way out, with their sweet fragrance.  Let's say "goodbye, see you next year".  Even if the sky is barely visible.

Goodbye spring. Happy first Skywatch day of summer.

Join Yogi and the other bloggers who watch the sky each Friday for #skywatchFriday.

Catalpa Bloom Time #ThursdayTreeLove

I know I've blogged about catalpa trees before, but I love them so much.

Catalpa is a fast growing tree native to the United States. They can grow upwards of 40 to 60 feet tall and make a good shade tree.  It flowers where I live in late June - beautiful white flowers which make a mess for the homeowner who has to clean them up.  If you have to cut one down, they make (I understand) good lumber.

My guess is this species is the Northern catalpa, Catalpa speciosa.

After they bloom, they grow long "beans", which can be upwards of 20 inches (50 cm) long.  And guess what - in winter these beans are shed. Time for another cleanup.  You'll be cleaning for a long time, too, as these trees can live as long as 150 years.

I've read that the early pioneers used the beans medicinally.  They are not food.

If you think that means I don't love these trees, you would be wrong.  Such beauty.  The blooms are peaking now, and brighten up both urban streets and roadways.  Our walking rail trail even has a couple.

Joining Parul and other tree loving bloggers each second and fourth Thursday of the month with #ThursdayTreeLove.

Sweetness #WordlessWednesday

Walking on Grand Boulevard (yes, that is its name) in Binghamton, New York this afternoon, I inhaled the sweetness.

The linden trees are in full bloom.

Their small but powerful flowers are pumping out an intoxicating fragrance.  We walked in a world of scent.

If only I could share the fragrance with you.

What's happening in your corner of the world?

Join Esha and Natasha and link up with us, won't you?  Take a break from writing and share a picture or two with us.  I am also linking today with image-in-ing.

Camp Sussex 2019

For many years, it lay abandoned.  Now, I finally, after nine years, have an update.

It was located on County Road 565 in Sussex County, New Jersey.

In 2010 and several times since, I blogged about the summer camp where I spent some time for several summers as a pre teen and a teen.

 I grew up in a New York City housing project, and by the definition of a particular non profit, my family was considered poor.  So I was eligible to be sent to a sleep away camp in Sussex, New Jersey, which opened in 1924, and run by a Jewish Fresh Air Camp association (yes, I was a Fresh Air child - of sorts). Its attendees were "orphans and poor children".  Mel Brooks and Gabe Kaplan, among a handful of famous people, went to this camp.

We woke up to a recording of Reveille.  We had to make our bunks, clean our cubbies (shared with the camper next to us) and go through inspections.  At night we heard taps and then it was lights out. There was a separate house for showers, although we did have indoor bathrooms. 

On Friday night and Saturday mornings were religious services, and we said grace before meals.

Many walks through the woods introduced us to nature, and this city girl was in love with the country.

The camp closed in 2005, and had been extensively vandalized.  There were efforts through the years (according to Facebook posts) by camp alumni to raise money to open the camp again.

In researching this throwback, I found that the site was finally sold at auction in 2016 to a Korean group.

I wrote this in 2010:

I sometimes surf around Facebook and type in stuff from my past, just to see what comes up.

Today I decided to type in the name of my sleepaway camp.  It wasn't just any sleepaway camp.  You see, as a child of public housing growing up in the Bronx in the early 60's, the fact that my parents didn't own a car, plus their income, made me a disadvantaged urban youth.  Luckily, I didn't know that growing up and I wouldn't have cared.

Through a elementary school friend, I found out about a camp in northern New Jersey called Camp Sussex.  My friend went there.  She lived in a different housing project so was disadvantaged, too. Since she was going, I wanted to also.  Three weeks away from home.  It would be my first time away from home, at this camp for poor kids.  So poor, we weren't even expected to bring our own clothes.  The camp provided them.  The camp provided everything, including transportation from Manhattan.

I went to camp and a couple of things happened that first day.

First, my friend treated me like I didn't exist.

The second was, I was massively homesick.  I ended up in the infirmary overnight, as I had somehow worked myself into a fever.  Literally.

I was shown a lot of kindness there, and reported to my bunk first thing the next morning.  I never looked back.  I survived being snubbed by my "friend" and made other friends.

This camp was located in a then-rural area of northern NJ.  It was surrounded by beautiful hills.  There was a lake.  There were hiking trails (rumored to contain quicksand pits and lethal snakes).  There was the opportunity to put on a camp musical.  Every dinner, before the prayer (yes, there was a religious element to this camp) we sang "Be Kind to Your Web Footed Friends".  I still remember the words.  We woke up to "Reville", made our bunks, had an inspection, watched the American flag raise, and listened to "taps" at Lights Out.

Many of the camp counselors were college students.  I became friends with one in particular, who went to Bryn Mawr.  We wrote to each other for months after that session but lost touch.

I had my first crush at Camp Sussex, and my first "boyfriend".

Years later, my cousin married someone who had gone to Camp Sussex.  And at work, for several years, I sat feet from a former Camp Sussex counselor.  Problem was, she was born the last year I went.  So we didn't speak about it much.  I wish we had.

Anyway, I had known that the camp had never quite changed its mission, but had closed around 2005.  There were hopes to turn it into a sports camp, an "education through sports" camp.  Derek Jeter's father was somehow supposed to be involved.

Well, on Facebook, I found out, as Paul Harvey used to say, "The rest of the story".

The closed camp has been severely vandalized.   Over the years, the rural area had become urbanized and the local youth had their way with my summer camp.  The camp hadn't been secured, anyone could just walk in, and the police didn't seem to care too much. (in all fairness, I only know one side of the story.)  Bottom line, it would take over a million dollars just to get the camp fixed up enough to even begin about reopening.

There were pictures on Facebook showing the damage. (there's even a 3 minute short on You Tube documenting some of the damage.)  My heart broke, seeing those beautiful hills for the first time in over 40 years. And, on two Facebook sites, I saw discussions among some of over 400 people who belonged to a fraternity of former campers, counselors and even administrators.  They loved Camp Sussex.  I loved it in some ways, too, because it showed me there was a lot more to life than the streets of the Bronx.

Know what?  I wish I could find out how all of us "disadvantaged youth"of Camp Sussex turned out.  How many of us are professionals?   People who have made life better for others?And, for how many of us, did Camp Sussex make a difference?

I wish I didn't know about the vandalism, though.


So now, in 2019, an update.  I found this on Facebook, posted publicly:  renovations on at least one bunkhouse have started.  So it isn't being torn down, which makes me very happy, but from interior pictures someone took, this camp looks like it will be high end, not the basic army style cots (with surplus blankets) we campers slept under.

Right now the plan is to reopen the camp in 2020, and, supposedly, there will be a small museum (or, at least a plaque) commemorating the original Camp Sussex.

Maybe, at last, I can (one day) revisit an important part of my late childhood.

It's Summertime Summertime

It's the first Monday of summer, and it's time for some summer rockin' and rollin'!

Who are the #MusicMovesMe bloggers? We are bloggers who blog about music each Monday and if you have music to share with us, you are most welcome to join! (Music Posts Only on this music train, please!)   First, there is XmasDolly, whose birthday is coming up,   Her co-conductors are:   Stacy of Stacy Uncorked, Cathy of Curious as a Cathy and (finally) me.  Callie of JAmerican Spice blogs from time to time. 

Our guest conductor is also the engineer of this train - Xmas Dolly and for our theme today she has picked:  "SUMMER SONGS (ABOUT THE SUMMER)".  Xmas Dolly has been offline for a number of reasons, but I'm hoping she's back today.

Summertime brings me back to my youth in the 50's and 60's, so these songs are the songs I associate with privet, with school out for the summer, hot days and summer in the city of my growing up, New York City.

Speaking of Summer in the City - the Lovin' Spoonful hit this exactly right.  Keep in mind, when this song was a hit (1966), most apartments and houses didn't have air conditioning, at least where I lived.

 

Summer's also the right time for Martha and the Vandellas and their 1964 hit Dancing in the Street. I could listen to this all day.

After some dancing, how about this beautiful instrumental to help restore you?  From 1959, Percy Faith and His Orchestra, with  Theme from A Summer Place.

Summer was also the time for doo-wop music, when singers would gather on city streetcorners and sing.  From 1958, One Summer Night by The Danleers.

In summertime, the living is easy.  Here, a doo-wop cover of George Gershwin's Summertime as done by the Marcels in 1961.

Another song I loved as a kid - Brian Hyland and Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polkadot Bikini. A girl and a poor fashion choice - just think if they had Instagram back then.

From 1958, Summertime by The Jamies.

I could listen to these songs all day, but I'm sure we need to go somewhere.  So, one last song - an end of summer song from 1964 - Chad and Jeremy's A Summer Song.

Nostalgia is a wonderful thing.

See you next Monday - same time, same place.

The Fellowship of the Flood - The New Normal

 Everyday, it seems, the news brings us news of more flooding.  Nebraska.  Oklahoma.  Arkansas.  The Philadelphia area.  Oswego, New York.  Uruguay.  Mexico.

More and more people are joining a fellowship they never wanted to belong to.

 

 In a blog post from 2011, I called that fellowship 'The Fellowship of the Flood'.  It's a club that you don't ever want to join.  Membership is automatic when you have experienced a flood.

The fellowship is millions strong, and growing daily.

But, for those who are members of the Fellowship, you know that the experience of being in a flood never leaves you completely.

Ever.

To this day, when I hear heavy rain, I become anxious.  And, after a year of (so it seems) almost constant rain, I'm afraid.  Afraid that we'll get the knock at 2am telling us to evacuate.  Or, worse, having to be rescued from flood waters that rise so fast there is no escape.

There are two groups of people you can talk to about your flood experiences.

Those who know.

And those who can't imagine.

I can't imagine what these areas are going through, because I know just enough (from personal experience) to know that I can't imagine.  My flood was not their flood.

That's the first thing to admit.  You DON'T know what those in (fill in the blank) are going through, unless you are there.

In September of 2011, after widespread flooding impacted many areas of our state, New York,  I find (going through those posts) of my feeling of gratitude.  That may or may not surprise you.


It is hard to tell people how to support others who are going through a disaster of this magnitude, but just being there to listen is important.

Then, there are the things people should and shouldn't do if you are moved to help.

Right now it's the everyday things people n the flood zones need.  Clean drinking water.  A place to wash their clothes.  Oh, how I missed having a place to wash my clothes when my neighborhood flooded in September 2011. 

A place to feel human again.

You may find you need professional help to move on.  You should not hesitate to seek it.  Even a year later.  Even more than that later.  It's not weakness. (A confession here - I should have sought help.  PTSD is a real thing.)

For those not affected physically but want to help, this is my advice - be very careful, if you are moved to give for flood relief.  Be careful who you give to.  There are many scammers out there. 

With our changing climate, we must learn how to live with floods. No, I'm not getting political.  I'm realistic.

It's not going to get better.