During the late 1950's, the living room in 70 Lenox Avenue #2J, was the center where my family gathered. Warm conversations moved around the four of us and the 16 inch RCA atop the thin legged table spoke non-stop. If the he large television wasn't running its mouth, the Emerson radio/record player was playing soulful tunes, which pleasantly filled the apartment. The happy times that I experienced in that living room, extended itself outward from the nearby window. The recently repainted window sill was filled with a variety of my father's snake plants that he loved to re-pot.
View From Yesterday's
Living Room Window
Through the looking glass lay the familiar stretch of trees and benches made of cement and wood. (Below is the reverse view as seen from outside my second floor living room window marked by >).
Across the rows of benches was the "Little Park" and held within the logged boundaries was a three-tier concrete block and some kind of stone enclosure with steps like a small house. Also within the small park are two flat-top barrels, a high set of metal Monkey Bars and a wooden maze made of flat logs. Memories of crouching in one of three-in-a-row barrels still makes me smile. The concrete tube protectively shielded us while the rain pored around my brother and friends.
(That's me with my foot proudly planted on the bench).
One last view from the window. The outside TV antennae hung out the window.
That's me overlooking the building's basement entrance.
That's me overlooking the building's basement entrance.
I will always be grateful for the view, which I'm sure is enjoyed by another happy family.
I wonder what thoughts move that family in their living room similar to my own.
Every family has a story.
I wonder what thoughts move that family in their living room similar to my own.
Every family has a story.