December Shadows Franklin Clove

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Rockland Lake to Lake Tappan

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Rosie's Lincoln Place music memories

I found this in an old e-mail--a wonderful little piece from Metropolitan Diary. Then my parallel experience. Rosemary

Dear Metropolitan Diary:

After I watched my friend and his band play at the Bitter End in the West Village, he and some of my friends and I hopped on the A train to head back home to Brooklyn. The train was packed, and my friend barely found room for his drums on the floor in front of us.

After a few stops, he began to softly play a random beat. In a short time, people in the car began tapping their feet and bobbing their heads.  Then, out of nowhere, a man from farther down the car began singing “Lean on Me” to the beat of the bongo. It wasn’t long before the entire car broke into song, clapping on the off-beat and wiggling in their seats.

All strangers...one beat, joined by the music.

Calling forth this memory 1968.

Living in Brooklyn, we named buildings near us: the Haitian Building, the Irish Building, the Puerto Rican Building, Johnnie She’s Building, and Our Building, 339 Lincoln Place. Me on our front steps, warm summer night. Someone from the Puerto Rican building next door played a guitar. Another guitarist came outside. A bongo player from Johnnie’s Building. Another drummer from the Haitian Building. Someone with a horn who could play only one note but came in appropriately and at the right beat. Many happy spectators.

Until the racist old white lady on the fourth floor in Our Building, yelled out her window, “Stop that noise or I’ll call the police.” They didn’t and she did. They came and ended the music.

But not before the Lincoln Place block between Underhill and Washington Avenue had a wonderful 35 minutes I’ve remembered.

Midland Park November snow

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