My Love/Hate Relationship with New York City
Suzanne Marsh
I had two strikes against me before I was even born, both my parents were from New York City. My Dad hated the city and would do anything to avoid going there; Mom loved it. My first trip with Mom to New York City I was about five months old. It would be the first of many trips by car, train, bus and yes even plane. The first trip that I remember I was six years old. That year Mom decided to take me to the Bronx Zoo. I rode a camel that day, needless to say once we returned to Grandma’s the bathtub awaited yours truly. The Bronx Zoo was huge compared to the Buffalo Zoo. It was an adventure between the subway and buses. For the life of me to this day I won’t get on a subway; I saw the subway close with a lady’s arm caught in the door.
The following year Mom thought I should see more the New York City; ergo we went to the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty. The Empire State Building has one hundred and two floors, when it was built in the thirties it was the tallest building in the world, or so they say. The elevator seemed to be soaring we got off on the observation deck on the eighty sixth floor. The deck was all fenced in, Mom explained that a lot of people jumped from that floor. I walked around the deck, begged Mom for a dime to view the city from one of those observation viewers. I had great fun with that; then I had an idea. It was not to brightest idea I have ever had: I looked over and straight down. My stomach did flip flops and I decided it was time to leave. No, I have never returned to the Empire State Building.
The Statue of Liberty is something that every American should see. In the 1950’s you took a boat out to Governor's Island, that I enjoyed. We debarked from the boat, walking toward the entrance. We took an elevator up to the skirt, from there we took winding stairs that became narrower and narrower. We ascended to the crown. There were windows that we looked out. That was when I had a very stubborn moment. It took Mom almost an hour to convince me we had to leave. I wanted to stay in the crown the rest of my life, so did not have to descend those stairs!
The years went by Mom took me to the Bowery. That was a dirty place even back in the day. She told me about the Bowery and why it was famous. We went to Chinatown, Mom bought me a pair of silk type pajamas and beaded slippers. I still have a picture of me with those blue and pink pajamas, my hair was teased. We roamed Chinatown, Mom purchased a Buddha and incense. Mom lit the incense, it smelled horrible. Grandma spent the rest of the evening basically airing out the house.
Time has a way of creeping up on all of us, me included. I have been to New York City several times since my younger days. My husband is a truck driver, we had several loads that we delivered. I have never been an ardent fan of New York City, I never cared for the odors. The city is laid out in a square, it is not accommodating to truckers. The rule of thumb was to stay in Pennsylvania if you had an eight o’clock appointment you left at four in the morning. The first trip my husband made to New York City was as a student driver. His mentor was driving, actually that was a good thing. The city has always been a challenge when it comes to parking. So the situation they found themselves in I could empathize with. There was a sign that stated: no parking here to the corner. There was a red Mazda RX7 parked on the corner. The mentor saw the sign and stopped. He did not want to take out the car. They sat there until one of New York’s finest approached the tractor trailer. He asked why the truck was sitting there with its four ways on. That was simple, the mentor did not want to hit the car:
“Get that damn truck out of here you are hold up traffic.”
“If I go around the corner I will take out the front of the car!”
The cop pointed out that the car was parked illegally. The mentor put the truck in gear and over that beautiful candy apple red Mazda RX7 the truck went. When I heard about it I could still envision
my Mom in her burgundy bathrobe, her hair in bobby pins, standing in a parking space while Dad moved the car from one side of the street to the other.
Our first trip to New York City was a load of crackers going to Hunts Point, the Bronx. Just the thought that I was going to the Bronx scared me. It was not one of the better sections of New York City any longer. It had a high rate of theft in the area. When we crossed the George Washington Bridge, it was still dark. Trucks are only allowed on the upper level, we sat and waited until the trucks in front of us moved. We followed the directions, this was a load from hell! The first hint that we were in Hunts Point loomed in front of the tractor trailer, it was a prostitute no doubt on her way home. She had blond hair, a tight fitting leather fringed jacket, a very short skirt and glow in the dark pink knee high boots. The windows were up and doors locked. She continued on her way; we did also. The street we were looking for was a tight turn, we missed the driveway. There was a very helpful JB Hunt that told us if we continued down that street, we would be hijacked. My husband found a driveway and turned back to the driveway we had missed. That area was disgusting, between all the garbage strewn all over the area. The smells were horrendous. The adult in me could only remember how the city looked now not back when I was seven. I hated being there and wanted to leave.
My desire to go to New York City is just not there. So much has changed over the years. It is still a dirty city but then most cities are. I used to love to go and visit Grandma. I remember there was no grass in the front only cement. Firefighters would open up the fire hydrants in summer so the children could cool off. Those memories remain that memories. The realty of New York City today is totally different from when I was a child. Yes I do have a love/hate with New York City and I always will.
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