Where My Mother Lived

I biked over to Bay Ridge on the Saturday of the Memorial Day weekend. I thought I would do a little campaigning. The Barbaro campaign had scheduled a street corner mobilization at the very busy 86th Street and 4th Avenue area. I decided to bike over there using the streets (rather than the bike/ped path along the Narrows and New York Bay. I like pedaling around streets more than so-called scenic bike paths. I just find it more interesting. This route took me through Brighton Beach, where I stopped to photograph my mother's house. She grew up in her teens (after a childhood in Manhattan's lower east side on Henry Street) at 2956 Brighton 4th Street.

Brighton is, indeed, a strange place today. Now it's mostly Russian but there is also a large component of Latinos, Pakistanis and Turks. Back in the 20's and 30's and beyond, it was a summertime community of bungalows, beach and boardwalk. The street grid had large numbers of paths, lanes, courts and the street naming system went like this: Brighton 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th Streets, etc. But these were intersected by tiny walkways that would cut through from one larger street to the next. Thus, there were also Brighton 2nd Lane, then Brighton 2nd Path, then Brighton 3rd Path and so on.


Brighton's street names reflect the maze-like structure of streets, lanes, paths, walks and courts, criss-crossing.


Brighton 3rd Walk passing from Brighton Brighton 3rd Street to Brighton 4th Street. About 3 or 4 feet wide, lined by tiny bungalows.

My Uncle Seymour (my mother's younger brother) lived on one such "court." His family inhabited a small bungalow. My early memories were birthday parties for my cousins, Jay and Cory, in front of that modest abode: nice memories.

My grandparents lived with their son, (i.e. my mother's brother and my uncle Morris) around the corner on Brighton 4th Street. My mom and all her siblings lived there in earlier years before they married off. How they all fit in to that small dwelling is not comprehensible, but families did just that in those days.


My grandparents' house at 2956 Brighton 4th Street. I wanted to take this photo today before the house (and others like it) disappeared. Four story condos are replacing these tiny bungalows up and down Brighton Beach's streets.

I cut across southern Brooklyn enroute to Bay Ridge and the street corner where I was to meet others who were canvassing shoppers. I was told they would meet at 86th Street and 4th Avenue at 2 PM. I got there (late, of course) at 3 PM. No campaigners. No evidence that they were even there except for one Barbaro poster that some Disabled Vets had stuck on their fundraising table. They couldn't tell me where the Barbaro people were. Oh well. Missed it again.

It was a nice ride anyway and I didn't mind getting out of the house (and away from this computer) for a nice ride and some exercise. I headed back, this time taking the shore route along the Narrows. Coming, I was bucking a very strong wind. Now, headed back east toward home, the wind was pushing me and I hardly had to pedal. The water, though, was being whipped into a frenzy and the view of the bridge, the water and the sky was about as beautiful as it gets.


A very choppy Narrows at the Verrazzano Bridge, whipped up by strong north winds.

I rode along the promenade, being pushed along by the wind at my back (much more pleasant that way) and turned south when I reached Coney Island. Nathan's was hopping and people were lined up for their famous hot dogs and french fries. Although it's not on my diet, I opted for two franks anyway. Couldn't resist. Besides I just worked off 10 million calories on my 15 mile ride. So who's watching?