El Barrio Remembered
By Victor Lopez
()
About this ebook
These stories depict true occurrences reflecting how teenagers dealt with the changes arising during these crucial times in our nation's history. A new world was arising and we had a front-row seat to political changes as well as racial and gender issues. As we traversed these issues of family, culture, and racism, we were bolstered by such things as music and art as well as religion and trying desperately to hold on to our traditional values. We clung to one another and our families as we made our way in an ever-changing landscape; and we progressed, we innovated, we adapted, and succeeded in becoming part of the mosaic that became New York City.
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Book preview
El Barrio Remembered - Victor Lopez
El Barrio Remembered
Victor Lopez
Copyright © 2021 Victor López
All rights reserved
First Edition
PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.
Conneaut Lake, PA
First originally published by Page Publishing 2021
ISBN 978-1-6624-5808-8 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-6624-5809-5 (digital)
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
The Three Strike Rule (1962)
Don’t Skate
(1963)
Mr. Breaststroke/Palisades Park (1964)
The Incident at the Checkerboards
Hooky Party/Hickey Party (1965)
Embarrassment on the Number Six Train (1966)
The Candy Incident (1967)
The Delivery Job (1968)
Pilfering at Alexanders Department Store (1968)
Big Tony to the Rescue (1969)
East Harlem Heroes (1970)
Insult to Injury/My Dad Dies (1971)
The Attack of the Half Man (1972)
To my wonderful parents—Mary C. and Joe Pepe
López—who, through their constant guidance, sacrifice, and unconditional love, shaped me into the man I am today.
Gracias, mis padres queridos.
To my loving wife, Ruth. Because of your love and support, I am a better educator, father, and grandfather but, most of all, a better person.
Te amo, mi amor.
To Andrea for two decades of support and caring.
To all of you raised in the inner cities of this great country of ours, who drank from fire hydrants and played endlessly on asphalt playgrounds. Those that were labeled as poor but didn’t realize it because you were happy. This book is respectfully dedicated.
Introduction
The purpose of this book is remembrance and education. It is written to recount a golden decade in the history of New York City, from 1962 to 1972, and the lives of those teens growing up during these much simpler times in a neighborhood called Spanish Harlem or, in Spanish, El Barrio.
The 1960s and seventies were important years in the life of New York City. Change was in the air throughout the United States and indeed the world. Among those objects of change were racial and gender inequities, as well as everything from music to fashion. A new world was arising and those of us who were teens during these times had a front-row seat to these proceedings whether we wanted it or not. Men such as John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King were leading the way regarding how we looked at war, violence, and race. Women were finding their voices and through the use of newfound media outlets, these changes now occurred in your living room through the ever-changing medium of television. Yes indeed, the revolution was televised as families saw firsthand everything from the Vietnam War to race riots and the blackout. The Beatles arrived and changed life as we knew it. And the music, oh! The music. Artists such as Marvin Gaye, Bob Dylan, and others too many to mention redefined what we listened to. Motown created a vehicle for African Americans to create a new sound and social commentary. Salsa,
a new type of dance music made up of a mélange of Latin rhythms mixed with a New York sound and attitude, was growing in popularity.
These stories will depict some of the personal occurrences that transpired to me and teens like me in my neighborhood, a small patch of cement called East Harlem. El Barrio stretched from 96th Street to 125th Street and Fifth Avenue to the East River. It was the destination for many Hispanic immigrants as early as the 1930s but came to be the favorite destination for those coming from the island of Puerto Rico. These travelers, who were American citizens by birthright, flocked to East Harlem in New York City for the same reasons that millions of immigrants before them had come—they sought better lives, economic opportunity, and advancement for their children, and the American dream.
These stories chronicle a life before cellular phones, the internet, and video games. They delve into how teenagers lived their daily lives, interacted with their parents and other authority figures, and attempted to make their way in a changing world. They speak to young romance, overcoming racism, and how we studied, played, and grew during some of the most turbulent yet beautiful years in memory. Finally, they speak to how teenagers during these times held fast to their customs, beliefs, and language in an ever-changing landscape where they were always trying to fit in while still staying true to their culture and old-world beliefs.
The Three Strike Rule (1962)
Dreams get you started… Discipline keeps you going.
This morning was like no other in recent memory for me. Our move from the Bronx to the East Harlem section of upper Manhattan had gone well and we were now residents of the Franklin Plaza Apartments. This cooperative development stretching from 106th Street to 108th Street and Third Avenue to First Avenue was newly built and my family had managed to acquire a two-bedroom apartment there. My dad had insisted on returning to El Barrio
from the Bronx after my mother was mugged coming home from work in our supposedly safe neighborhood.
Twenty years in ‘El Barrio’ and nothing happened,
he said. We move and look what happens. We are going back to where we know people.
I had been taken out of Joy Town School, a private school in Fordham Hill that catered to gifted students. My parents were paying a lot for my education, but they believed it would give me a good start. I was learning French and part of an advanced reading program that introduced phonics and decoding at an early age. The school also featured the latest in early childhood instruction as well as an Arts and Music Program. My questions about where I would be going to school were answered this day as my mother broke the news to me.
You start school tomorrow,
she said. You’re going to Saint Cecilia’s across the street.
I looked at her with a mix of amazement and panic.
A Catholic school, I thought. I had heard stories about Catholic schools and they weren’t good. Beatings, all-day prayers. Wow. I thought you said I could stay in Joy Town until June?
I asked.
Too expensive!
my dad blurted out over his morning coffee. Besides, it’s right across the street and the neighbors all say that it’s a good school, good teachers, and strict.
Besides,
Dad continued, the fifty dollars a month we save will come in handy.
My mom continued to tell me about my placement as I looked out of the window toward the school building. There it was, directly across the street. It was an old building with clearly marked separate entrances for girls and boys.
They looked at your report cards and have placed you in the fourth grade,
Mommy stated.
But I’m in the third grade,
I replied.
"Well, mijo, they must think you’re smart. We are going shopping for your uniform this afternoon, so be ready. Uniforms too."
I thought, That can’t be good.
Unlike my previous school, uniforms were mandatory at Saint Cecilia’s. They consisted of an ensemble of corduroy. Corduroy pants, maroon in color, followed by a gray corduroy jacket, white shirt, and maroon tie emblazoned with the letters SCS on it. They even suggested shoes which my mother eagerly purchased. Our purchase was complete and the remainder of my day was filled with being fitted
for the uniform. My mother, being a sewing wizard,
hemmed my pants and jacket sleeves on her Singer sewing machine. I remember how stiff the corduroy felt on my skin.
How could we wear this in the hot months? I thought.
I would soon find answers to this and all my questions.
The next morning, dressed in my complete school uniform, my mom and I headed out. Instead of a direct path across the street, as I had anticipated to the school, we headed west toward Lexington Avenue.
Where are we going, Mom?
I asked.
Oh, I forgot to tell you, the students attend mass every day before school. We are going to the church. That’s where the entire school meets.
Wait, what? I thought, The school day begins in church? How does that work?
"The students attend mass every day from eight