A Mafia Message

     

   

           When I started working, I was still living in East Harlem and things hadn't changed much there. After dinner I'd meet my friend Ruby and we’d walk over a couple of blocks to the Colonial Tea Room for a coffee or maybe a soda. Ruby had a girlfriend in school and she and her brother Teddy would with sit with us sometimes. Teddy was a nice looking boy, with a big smile and curly dark hair. One night he told us that he was making a lot of money and had bought a brand new car. “How many seventeen-year-olds do you know with a brand new car?” he bragged. He told us all he had to do was pick up a package from the west side and deliver it. As innocent as we were, Ruby and I knew the package was probably drugs. We begged him not to do it anymore…it wasn't worth it, no matter how much he was paid. Of course he ignored us and we later heard he was picked up and arrested.

          Teddy told us how the police had showed him photos of children hooked on drugs. It really shook him up and eventually he gave the police the names of the people he worked for. Of course these people found out what he did and soon after Teddy was killed in a candy store. We heard rumors that they dumped his body somewhere in the Bronx. “Remember that curly hair he had,” one of the “old-timers” told us. “Well, it’s all gone now…the rats ate it!”

          Unfortunately young men will always be tempted by the idea of making lots of money the easy way.  Across the street from us lived a young man nicknamed Blondie because his hair was so light. He loved to go to the Boys Club to play handball, as did a lot of the guys in the neighborhood.  I remember him once telling me enthusiastically how great my Uncle Eddie was at the game. I guess it was hard for him to take care of his large family in a small East Harlem apartment. Blondie also got involved with the drug runners. I don’t remember exactly what his job was, but I know he was responsible for handling the money. It was a pretty high-level position.

          I really don‘t know what happened after that.  He moved his family out of the small apartment and stopped going to the Boys Club.  

          Not too much later a body was found floating in the East River with both hands cut off—a mafia message that the person was taking more than he should from whoever was running the operation.  We all knew it was Blondie because of his almost white, light hair.

School Days

I went to a Catholic junior high school. The nuns were really strict and did not hesitate to use their hands, especially on the boys. They taught us Latin and Algebra. I was always bad at math and was failing miserably. “You goose!” the nuns would yell at me whenever I gave the wrong answer to a problem.

I remember one Sunday in particular my family was going to Brooklyn for my paternal grandmother’s birthday. My teacher wouldn't excuse me from Mass that day so my dad went to talk to her, saying the whole family was going and to please excuse me, just this one time. Well my father was just as charming as could be but the nuns told him flat out that the answer was no, and anyone who was not at Mass on Sunday would have marks deducted from their report card. My dad was stunned, but we went to Brooklyn anyway.

In a city-wide English test, the nuns found out I was reading at the high school level and gave me special books to read. All the students were given a questionnaire to choose whether we wanted to continue with an academic or commercial course. I wrote commercial, because I didn't want to be a teacher or a nurse. The nuns changed my answer to academic because they said I was too young to decide and my marks indicated I should take academic.

I went home and said I wanted to transfer to Central Commercial High because my dream was to be a secretary for some important person in some important place. My parents were called and we went to the principal and she said pointedly to my parents, “Central Commercial? There are BOYS there, you know,” My mom responded with, “There are boys everywhere, Sister. My daughter is going to have to live in a world with boys.”

The principal looked like a female Barry Fitzgerald,

(Just imagine Barry Fitzgerald in a nun's habit!)

and she obviously didn't appreciate my mom’s comment.  These nuns were overly concerned about boys. Maybe you heard this line in a play on Broadway about nuns. It sounds like a joke, however, it was true. Our homeroom teacher actually told us to be careful, that boys could look in our shiny black patent leather shoes and see our underwear.  Huh?

I finally transferred to Central Commercial. We went to classes starting very early in the morning (6:30 to 12:30) or the afternoon classes (12:30 to 6:30).  This was so we could work half a day in a real office.  I was lucky to be assigned to work for Judith Richter, a very attractive lawyer at 57 West 57th street. She was also the editor of a magazine for former members of the professional children’s school, which was attended  by  people who were in show biz like Milton Berle, Penny Singleton (who played the comic strip character Blondie in the movies), and many others. This was done by subscribing to a clipping service which sent her every item about one of the alumni.  I was assigned to arrange them into a readable magazine. 

                                                    "Blondie and Dagwood" (Blondie was played by Penny Singleton)

The most popular TV star there was Milton Berle, and Ms. Richter put together a big party for him which included many of his old classmates and other show biz people.

Another time Ms. Richter had a small cocktail party and allowed me to stay and attend. Jimmy Jemail, the inquiring photographer of the NY Daily News was there.  

Jimmy Jermail, NY Daily News Inquiring Photographer

I thought I would be very clever and said to him, “Mr. Jemail, I’d like to ask YOU a question.” He surprised me by answering in a very flirty way. That stunned me because I was only 16 and very unsophisticated. (I guess he was one of the boys the nuns tried to warn me about!)

LIFE ON "A HUN 19"

I was born and brought up in East Harlem. Some people might say, "Tsk, tsk, that must have been awful." Actually, it was great. It was never boring. The tenement buildings on East 119th street (pronounced “a hun 19”) had 7 apartments on each floor and there were 6 floors in each building. The higher you had to climb, the cheaper the rent.   I was lucky to live in one of the brownstones on the block. We had a small cement back yard which my dad had painstakingly turned into a garden, with a lilac bush, rose bushes and a cherry tree which never blossomed. 

There it stood, year after year, an empty promise. One year, my grandfather decorated the branches with store-bought cherries, draping them all over the tree as you would Christmas ornaments. Then he excitedly called the family to come see the miracle!

Our cherry tree never bloomed, so one spring my grandfather draped store-bought cherries all over the tree and then called the family to "come see the miracle."                    

In nice weather we would sit in our little garden, dwarfed by a big apartment house next door.  Since there was no air conditioning, you shared your neighbors lives through their open windows.  On the second floor lived the McCarthy family. Mary, Pat, and their two small sons.  Once when Pat had a beer too many one evening we heard Mary exclaim, “You knocked me down!” and her husband answered, “Did not!”  “Then what am I doing on the floor?” she wailed.  My father was always nothing if not helpful. He rushed up to the apartment and knocked on the door.  Pat opened the door immediately and offered him a beer. Mary picked herself up and asked after the family.  Peace and quiet prevailed.

Did we have number runners and loan sharks in East Harlem? Yes of course we did.  Everybody likes to gamble.  Some people couldn't afford to bet a whole dollar so they would play just one of the three numbers, and the runners would walk up and down the street holding up the numbers as they came out. Playing the numbers then was of course illegal.  When a person needed money but had no collateral they borrowed from a loan shark. Contrary to what you see in the movies, they didn’t always beat up a person who missed a payment. They weren’t all cold hearted monsters. Sometimes when you needed help it was better to go to your local capo than your local cop.

Holy Rosary church was located in the middle of our street.  Every Sunday afternoon there were three or four weddings and when the bride came out besides rice she was pelted with nickels and dimes and the occasional quarters. We scrambled for the coins every Sunday!

Holy Rosary Church, 444 East 119th Street

Just staying home on your own street was not boring because there were more families on one block than in some small neighborhoods. There was a grocer and a candy store, a shoemaker and a tailor and there was Holy Rosary where something was always going on. Every Sunday morning the cadet corps would parade in their uniforms and the band would play stirring marches. 

There was the wonderful weekend every May when the street would be filled with dozens of young girls dressed as brides and the young boys in their suits with scrubbed faces and skinned knees waiting for the bishop to come out of the rectory.  When he appeared with his tall mitered hat, blessing everyone, people cheered from their windows and lined the curbs, applauding.

Feast of Mount Carmel

We looked forward to it every year, almost as much as the 16^th of July, which was the feast of Mount Carmel.  Then the whole neighborhood was festooned with banners and lights crisscrossing the streets.  The portable Ferris wheel was set up and wonderful odors from food being cooked out on the street filled the air. The excitement mounted daily and every night you dressed up and walked over to the main street to hear the band play and hoped some boy might talk to you and ask you to ride the Ferris wheel with him.  Nobody went to sleep on the 16^th. There was a mass every hour and people came from all over the city to attend on that special night.

Ohio could have its state fairs—we had our fiestas.  This big holiday was followed by smaller fiestas for lesser saints until September came and school started and summer was officially over.

Like I said, people might say, "You grew up in East Harlem? How awful." And again I say, actually it was pretty great.

Local Boy Makes Good!

I remember one time as a young girl my friends and I were sitting in the Colonial coffee shop having iced tea when one of the neighborhood boys, Lou Criscuolo, was bragging about his close relationship with the singer Vic Damone. Vic was appearing at the Waldorf Astoria at that time. Lou was determined to become an actor and he said he went down to the Waldorf every night to meet with the singer. Well, this sounded really impossible to us. A number of people from our neighborhood had made it in show biz, among them Tony Francioso, who later married Shelly Winters.

Tony Francioso & Shelly Winters

Another handsome man from the neighborhood, James Luisi went on to become a successful actor who had several parts on television and even once appeared on the Mary Tyler Moore Show.

James Luisi

But Lou’s looks were not the leading man type. We teased him

mercilessly, saying things like, “Waldorf Astoria? You must mean the Waldorf cafeteria.”  He got really angry and said ‘I’ll meet you right here tomorrow night and take you down to the Waldorf.”

I went home and told my family about it and my Uncle Eddie immediately set out to check on Lou. But the neighborhood guys told him not to worry, Lou was a good guy. So the next night my friend Anna and I met Lou at The Colonial and he hailed a taxi and told the driver, “Waldorf Astoria Hotel, 51^st and Park.” Wow! We finally believed him! 

When we arrived Lou took us straight to the elevators and up to the penthouse roof, where Vic was about to perform. We stayed in the back of the room until Vic made his entrance. As he walked past me, he stopped for a moment and stared at me in my black and white checked suit and then said, “Hey, Sexy! Wait for me after the show!” Well, that was a shock and a surprise. Then he turned and walked down the steps singing one of his hits, Vagabond Shoes to wild applause. Lou laughed and said to my friend Anna, “Now she’s going to tell everyone what Vic said.” Well, yes I was, but I had to get home first, so we left soon after. It was such a fun night.       

Vic Damone

                    

As for Lou, he really did get into show business and appeared in many TV shows and in movies. As I said, he wasn't a “leading man” type, so he was usually cast as a taxi driver or some sort of blue collar worker. But he was a very good actor and his Hollywood dreams were fulfilled. Another local boy made good!

Lou Criscuolo

           

(Listen to Vic Damone singing Vagabond Shoes: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KAroevQWkX4)