My parents divorced when I was a kid and for years my dad lived in the city on 12th between 5th and 6th, while we were in Brooklyn so we had the best of all worlds NY-wise. It was a different city and what's happened to it is depressing.
I had it somewhat similar childhood. I grew up in Belmont (187th and Hoffman). But my Dad was from East Harlem, and when they died, my grandparents were among the last Italian immigrants left in the neighborhood. They lived on Pleasant Avenue, just off 118th. They lived until the late '80s, so I spent thirty years going back and forth. My Dad's going on 86 and he's still on the Giglio at Mount Carmel, so we're still there a few times a year. But forget about that neighborhood altogether today.
Then there was my favorite uncle who owned a building on Baxter Street, directly opposite the back entrance of Most Precious Blood, and another building on West 8th Street, which I currently co-own. So you can see my close affiliation with the Downtown area, and how much the changes have saddened me. I've spent almost 56 years in and out of these neighborhoods. It breaks my heart.
Then there was my uncle in East New York on Pacific Street. We spent one Sunday a month there. I loved it there. But even back then in the '60s and '70s, East New York was already starting to change. You see, on my Dad's side, there were eleven brothers and sisters on his Dad's side, and they immigrated one or two at a time, so they ended up all over the place. My Mom's side pretty much just settled in the Bronx.
