One day Jack found a seltzer bottle, the type one can spray at someone by squeezing the pump on top. On this bottle, was etched an address about four miles away. "Return this bottle for twenty-five cents deposit" he thought to himself, why not? His nine-year old mind envisioning two hot dogs and a soda and especially the big pot that he wanted no part of, prodded and told him to begin his trek toward yum-yum land.
Silently Jack always swore that one day he would eat only steaks and the best stuff he could afford. Never to eat this crap again he told himself. Even now when his wife tries to slip things of this type (soup from spare chicken parts, saved from the many gizzards and necks found inside super-market packs) to him, he just doesn't eat that night.
Two hours later the bottle was making a sound similar to glass breaking as it met the side of a brick building in the chill of the nineteen-degree night. All that remained at this address was a vacant lot. Pissed and down hearted, poor Jack started the long voyage home. Stopping only to remove on the fly, two sweet potatoes from a vendor’s fruit stand.
Perhaps some of the most poignant events in Jack's fragile youth were before graduation from the eighth grade. His clothes, picked especially for him for this occasion caused the reality of wretched and abject poverty to first set in. So many people think that because you are in New York City things are different. No, no Nannette, there are po' people everywhere.
A drum set and a Lionel train that he pulled around on the ten pieces of track because there was no place to plug the transformer. These had been the only toys that Jack can remember. If Jack hadn’t been a boy he would have had only those two toys. That wasn't an entirely happy drum set, because once while sitting on the floor and playing with it he was wrongly accused of trying at seven, to look up Josephine's dress. Anyway he was whipped for doing nothing. This woman, Uncle Ozell’s girlfriend, was so fat Jack could not have seen anything anyway. Who knew? Who cared?
Dad had bought a large truck and Jack carefully painted "JACKSON'S EXPRESS " on its sides. Apparently the moving and local package business didn't do so well because his Dad started picking junk, rags, newspapers and scrap iron to make ends meet. The ends started to meet but after awhile there was this huge gap in the middle. Together they, Dad and Duxie must have made some money because he and Duxie seemed always able to hoist one or two Carstairs or Four Roses, rot-gut whiskey , with the former being the preferred poison.
While Jack lived with his grandma, a gentleman named Doc Saunders, a chiropractor, who through some strange arrangement, had his office in the "Front Room" of their railroad flat. This man would take Harold, whom Jack always thought was his brother but actually a first cousin, and Jack to the cleaners, and have the tailor cut and fix for them unclaimed suits. Jack will always adore this angel of a man who knew him only as a friend and certainly wasn't in any way obligated to do this for Harold or Jack. "Daddy Doc", as they called him was about 6' 6", his heart even bigger, this huge gentle giant would do this every Christmas and Easter. Once the tailor cut down a black pinstripe and Jack had the best looking zootsuit in Harlem. Anybody who remembers Spike Lee and Denzel walking across the avenue in "Malcolm X " can picture what he looked like at ten. Where was his dad? Who knew and who cared........... then?
It probably became time to pick up something for his upcoming graduation. Jack knew this because one evening they, together, picked his entire outfit. Yeah that's right, an entire outfit from the junk they were collecting in a basement to sell to a junk man as rags. Jacket, beige with appropriate moth holes, a shirt, white on white, as seen in photograph(above), tie and pants, seems like somebody threw them out just for Jack! Jack prayed nobody would ever imagine where this schtuff had come from. Heck it fit, and the old saying goes "If the shoe fits . . . "
During high school, the morning session, because Stuyvesant, had so many students there were two sessions, began at 7:40 A.M.. The other at 12:40 P.M. was the afternoon session. Jack was glad for the late starting time. Before leaving for school, the naked, attractive Italian lady across in the next building provided a reason for Jack to pound his pud every morning. She would wash up right there in the sink and Jack had devised a way to look over the top of his kitchen window into her kitchen. Often she would seem to see him and his silhouette through the shade but each morning she kept on washing up. Jack never would have picked this school. He was more inclined to attend a vocational or commercial school. School officials and fellow students urged and prodded him to take the required entry exam. Naturally he passed with flying colors and off he went. What Jack needed to know was how much does it take to pay for a 13-year-old boy to attend school when half the subway fare is subsidized by NYC and books are totally paid for?
"Ptomaine Joe's", a "Deli" across the street from the school sold sandwiches with razor-blade thin slices of Sicilian salami and provolone cheese for 25 cents. Jack'd be hungry as hell and could not afford to buy a sandwich. Most guys loaded this sandwich with the delicious mustard that "Ptomaine" kept on the counter-top. Many students walked around with mustard stains on themselves because of the amount they had to put on the thinly clad sandwiches. Everyone commented on the scarcity of meat and cheese but kept buying the things. Squeezing the bread would cause the yellow goo to spew. This gourmet had the tastiest mustard sandwiches in the world.
Jack sometimes wished he were shining shoes again. At least he might have the necessary money to eat. He would sneak under the subway turnstile and save a quarter for a sandwich but this was risky and getting caught would land one in juvenile court. Maybe that hunger zapped his ability to comprehend because Jack's grades began a slow decline. The crazy hours didn't help much either and his social standings also started a mercurial nose-dive. Arriving home after six when every other school-age kid is home at three, puts one at a definite disadvantage. Things that needed to be said to girls needed to be said earlier in the afternoon and his late appearances had other boys beating his time. At thirteen, raging hormones curtailed Jack's studies. Although he hung out with all the neighborhood fellows, this was a fairly new "hood" for him. Since he had attended P.S.69 a school in a predominately white area he associated with some Jewish boys and was invited to play on their teams. The old adage "White men can’t jump" came into play. Jack, at 5' 6" was jumping at center in basketball games. These guys were better organized and he loved playing with them, another wrong answer though, naturally social decline continues. This led to being somewhat of an outcast, social life now nil with no future aspects.
Living with Rose was a truly wonderful experience in Jack's life as he got along fabulously with this girl. Rose was about three years older than his eleven. He recalls her attending Joan of Arc H.S. and being a good student. She had been brought from North Carolina. One night he remembers Harold getting a tremendous beating from Grandma. It had to do with his forcing himself on Rose. Jack was too young then but years later as he mused over it Harold was probably beaten unfairly. Nobody had to force Rose.
His youth made it possible, at the time, to not know why Harold spent so much time lying on Otto's back. They'd be under the stairs in an old tenement. At the time Jack was asked to be the enforcer and threaten to beat up on the young blue-eyed blonde. The Weid's would be calling for their son and Harold had not yet finished with him. Jack knew more about what had gone on when he saw Otto some years later, complete with lipstick and long hair. A sex change number one on his mind. Hez also queer now as a $ 3 bill. His encounters with "Man" and "Guy", fellows who in the neighborhood had started life so normal, their buddies gave them masculine nicknames. How ironic !
They stayed at 217 W. 60, while Dad, who had yet to marry Duxie resided around the block. So well did they get along that Rose lured Gloria Frazier, who lived upstairs, into their apartment many times and tried to help him off with Gloria's drawers. Jack, still terribly stupid was turned off after seeing "tobacco stains" in her little girl cotton panties. Oh, to know what he knew later, he would have gone through those stains and tried to cause some other stains!.
Rose and Jack were inseparable and so close that Dad once asked if they had anything going on. He had some nerve. Truly Jack did have secret fantasies about his step-sister, but situations never materialized. Rose finally wed, and from this union came 4 children. A surprise about this later!
Many of New York's hot summers were spent looking for ways to cool off. Directly across the street from the house was a municipal swimming pool. The entry fee was nine cents for kids. He may have gone enough times to learn and lots of people tried to show him. He went mostly with Rose and her friend’s. Remembering once when somebody threw him in and he swallowed so much water he knew he was going to drown. Jack guessed this was to be expected as the hang around pest that he must have been to her boyfriends.
Despite his inability to swim, he continued to climb the fence at night to go naked in the pool. One night his Dad, who had told him often not to go there, caught him in the pool. In Jack's haste to escape his father's wrath, he fell from about 20 feet and badly sprained his ankle, this in turn making Jack an easy target for his father's flailing belt. Blow after blow hit Jack but the pain in his ankle sent multi-hued shooting-stars, through the youngster's head, causing an analgesic effect and easily dulled the effect of the raining belt.
Elementary School Days * No More Gizzards * No, You Didn't * For The First Time
Life In The Garment Center * Jack's Black Queen * Those Were The Days
New York, New York * Dad * Post Office Blues? * DS or BS?