Love and marriage and love

Before marriage there must be love,

And after marriage there must be even more love,

For love cannot be the vessel to a marriage alone.

It must also be what nurtures and grows 

The happiness of the life together thereafter.

Love and marriage and love in that order,

In very good times and equally in bad,

On sunny summer days and cold winter nights,

During sounds of laughter and sniffles with tears,

When the pantry is full and glass half empty.

Love and marriage and love in that order,

Even when the jobs become very demanding,

And especially when the world becomes distracting,

Magnifying the lines between yours and mine

When they should clearly and continuously be “ours.”

Love and marriage and love in that order,

Just like this year will lead to the next,

And this decade to the one after,

As your young minds and bodies age

Evolving for better and for worse.

After marriage there must be more love,

For your everlasting love will be the foundation

That makes your strong marriage the fulfillment

Of a life you were truly destined 

To share together hand in hand.

 ©Copyright 2024, Charles A. Bruns

This poem was written for the marriage of my youngest son, Kevin, and daughter-in-law Hillary, and read for the first time at their wedding ceremony. 

Florida Keys Cubans

Cubans began settling in Key West nearly 200 years ago, shortly after Spain sold the Cayo Hueso territory to the United States for 2,000 U.S. dollars in a transaction that took place in Havana. The first Key West Cubans were mostly cigar rollers and fishermen.  

“Prior to 1868, Key West’s population consisted of about 5,000 inhabitants but by 1880 had risen to over 15,000 inhabitants mostly due to the Cuban immigration,” wrote Alejandro F. Pascual in his 2013 book, Key West: Passion for Cuba’s Liberty. “Key West increasingly started to smell like tobacco, Cuban coffee, and black beans.”

 

Pascual also wrote that the Cuban community in Key West “was known for its patriotism, its generosity, its perseverance, and its intensity.” By 1876, Key West had its first Cuban mayor as well as Cuban municipal judges and federal customs officials. In 1890, the San Carlos educational, patriotic, and civic center, which “was like the holy temple of the Cubans” according to Pascual, moved to Duval Street, where it still stands today. Jose Marti spoke there late in the 19^th century to stir support for Cuba’s eventually successful fight for independence from Spain.

 

After the Revolution resulted in the loss of political freedom and economic opportunity across Cuba, thousands of Cubans left the Communist island on boats, rafts, and various makeshift watercraft and landed in the Florida Keys. During the past 60-plus years, many thousands more have drowned during the dangerous 90-100-mile journey. Since the mid-1990s, several thousand have been intercepted at sea by the U.S. Coast Guard and deported back to Cuba.

 

Those who have successfully arrived from Cuba, however, are increasingly making their presence known in commerce across the Florida Keys beyond Key West. During my visits since 2007, I’ve observed a significant increase in the number of “Cuban food” and “Cuban coffee” signs along the approximately 100-mile stretch of road between Key Largo and Key West. 

 

On my most recent trip, I heard about an Islamorada fish market operated by Cubans. I pumped gas into my rental car at a station with a “Cuban coffee” sign on its window and Spanish-speaking staff and patrons. And yes, I enjoyed the delicious traditional Cuban food and wonderful café con leche and cortadito coffees available at different restaurants and cafes during my week in the Florida Keys. I also revisited the San Carlos Institute to learn more about the history of Cubans in Key West while observing how that history is continuing to be written across the Florida Keys.

Cursive's comeback?

The Wall Street Journal article, "Cursive Is Coming Back, Now That Kids Can't Read Grandma's Letters," is also available on Apple News at https://apple.news/Agz6xb6nHSSeesl_ZCzgoXA.  

New Poems for the 2023 Long Branch Poetry Festival

Sea Changes

Things are not they what use to be,

It seems times are changing for the worse,

Lamented the blonde who looked too young

To be toiling 40 years at the family pharmacy 

That would be closing in just a few days.

 

Sometimes they change for the worse,

And other times they change for the better,

Offered the sad customer who has seen many changes

In over 60 years of living in old and new  neighborhoods,

To the very small comfort of the worker losing her job.

 

The home of original music closed its doors

But hope remained the new owner would reopen it

A better place with more music, drinks, and food.

But little more than a year later it was bulldozed to the ground,

Keeping everyone guessing what will be there next.

 

Maybe it will meet the same fate as the cool cafe

That was frequented at night by kids both young and old

Who downed their Dutch coffee and grilled cheese sandwiches.

So much in fact they tired the owner right out of business,

Giving way to plans for more new homes and businesses.

 

I see many of the changes in our neighborhood.

I sense the loss people feel around our world.

Why oh why fear change while also wanting things better?

The sea to our east changes every day after all,

But to it we always flock to relax and recharge.

Meeting Up at the Jersey Shore

 

I first saw you when the packed train left the station.

I watched you with your friends during the hour we traveled to the shore,

And pretended not to while talking to my buddies and trying to act cool.

When the doors opened, my legs caught up to yours and our eyes met.

 

I started talking to you and almost forgot about my friends,

And your bright smile lit up your face as we chatted with each other 

Among the throng that moved quickly and loudly toward the beach.

I whiffed the weed and saw the bottles but only cared about you that moment.

 

And the moment was soon lost as chaos broke out in the village by the sea.

There was pushing and shoving and yelling and then fights and blood.

There was drinking and smoking and then broken glass and debris on the street.

There was dancing and twerking on the boardwalk and then stomping atop cars.

 

And then just like that you were apart from me, out of sight.

I headed back to the train station and looked but could not find you.

I searched the packed platform hoping to see you again

And desperately moved from one car to the next on the train home to no avail.

 

I remember your name but never found out where you lived,

Or what you were doing during the rest of the summer,

Nor what your plans were for autumn or the rest of your life.

But I hope the two of us meet up again at the Jersey Shore.

 

 

©Copyright 2023, Charles A.  Bruns

 

The Jersey Shore's First Luxury Condominium: A Hard-to-Believe History of Harbour Mansion

I'm pleased to announce my new book, The Jersey Shore's First Luxury Condominium, a Hard-to-Believe History of Harbour Mansion, is available at no cost on Apple Books!

This ebook is an 11-part history of the nine-story, 115-unit building located on Ocean Avenue in the West End section of Long Branch. Based on the blog series I published during 2016-17 and my presentation at the Long Branch Free Public Library, this book traces the origins of the oceanfront property, the construction of the building during 1967-68, its conversion from apartments to condo units in the mid-1970s, and the changes in the building and its neighborhood over the years. It identifies many of the famous and infamous people who have shaped its colorful history well into the 21st century, and includes fascinating photos and newspaper excerpts from its storied past.

Get the ebook for free on Apple Books at:

https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-jersey-shores-first-luxury-condominium/id6448854580?ls=1

In case you are unable to access the free ebook on Apple Books, a downloadable and printable PDF file of the book is available from the Long Branch Free Public Library website's local history page or via the following link:

https://www.longbranchlib.org/_files/ugd/b3b8ff_ac68893862dd45d4959bb2571ba1403e.pdf?fbclid=IwAR2eHXKxh7UecV2J9bK4IedYiXRdZ2fzSMoD5g9giUCj50CKdpBzyoiCWw0

Baseball's Nearly Forgotten Black Stars

Nearly a quarter of a century after Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier in Major League Baseball with the Brooklyn Dodgers, the National Baseball Hall of Fame finally began enshrining the stars of the Negro leagues and players from other Black teams. Satchel Paige, who played professionally for over 20 years before finally joining the Cleveland Indians of the American Leagues at the age of 42, was the first Negro leagues star to be admitted to the Hall of Fame in 1971. Paige is considered by many baseball experts and fans to be the greatest pitcher in the sport’s history. 

As detailed on the Major League Baseball website, “there are now 37 inductees -- players, managers and executives -- who have reached Cooperstown mostly or entirely on the strength of their careers in the Negro Leagues.” In addition to Paige, these include three Cubans whose careers ended before the color barrier was broken:

• Martin Dihigo, who according to MLB.com, “may have been the most versatile player in baseball history,” and “might have been at his best on the pitcher’s mound, where he twirled no-hitters and won hundreds of games while still winning batting titles at home plate.”
• José Méndez, a pitcher who was “a summer star in the United States and a winter hero in his native Cuba” according to MLB.com and “the first Cuban star of the pre-Negro Leagues era,” and
• Cristóbal Torriente, whose “legend was built on a national scale in 1920, when he outhit and outhomered Babe Ruth during a nine-game exhibition series in Cuba,” according to MLB.com

Among the teams Dihigo played for were the New York Cubans, who won their only Negro World Series in 1947. Minnie Miñoso, who will be enshrined in the Hall of Fame this July 24, was part of that N.Y. Cubans championship team, two years before joining the Cleveland Indians to start a Major League Baseball career that included parts of 17 seasons, the last of which was in 1980 when he batted twice at the age of 54! Luis Tiant Sr., father of the 18-year Major League Baseball player of the same name, was a pitcher on the 1947 N.Y. Cubans title team.

“A predominantly Latino team, the Cubans played at historic baseball institutions such as Hinchliffe Stadium in Paterson, N.J., and the Polo Grounds in New York City,” according to MLB.com. 

Decades before the New York Cubans, there was the Cuban Giants baseball team which, according to Leslie Heaphy’s 2003 book, The Negro Leagues, 1869-1960, were the first fully salaried African American professional baseball club. The team’s Wikipedia entry states the Cuban Giants were initially an independent barnstorming team that played games against major and minor league clubs, semiprofessional teams, college and amateur squads. Despite their name, no Cubans played on the team. They remained one of the premier Negro league teams for nearly 20 years and a model for future Black teams. 

Some former Cuban Giants players formed the Cuban X Giants in 1896, according to the team’s Wikipedia entry. Like the Cuban Giants, none of Cuban X Giants’ original players were Cuban, although the team would later sign Cuban players. According to MLB.com, among the team’s notable players were Rube Foster, “who would later become more widely known for his executive contributions to the sport, eventually earning the moniker, ‘Father of Black Baseball.’”

Foster is prominently mentioned in what many historians consider the definitive book about Black baseball before Major League Baseball's color barrier was broken, Only the Ball Was White: A History of Legendary Black Players and All-Black Professional Teams, by Robert Peterson. First published 1970 and re-issued 1992, Peterson’s book is a real eye-opener about the indignities Black baseball teams and players endured – and the determination of people like Foster to keep moving forward – during the first part of the 20^th century.  

If you were fascinated by the “5th Inning – Shadow Ball” episode of the Ken Burns Baseball documentary miniseries which first aired 1994, then you should read Robert Peterson’s book about Black baseball. And while you’re at it, take a look at MLB.com’s stories about the nearly forgotten Black stars of baseball who were finally honored by the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum.

Remembering Elena ten years later

On January 15, 2012, my mother passed away in a New York City hospital. When I received the news that morning, I cried louder than I had ever cried before. Six days later, on the 100^th birthday of her late mother, Elena was laid to rest in Glendale Cemetery in Bloomfield, just a short walk from her mother’s grave. There has not been a day during the past ten years when I have not thought of my mother. 

I’ve thought about how resourceful she was raising my older brother and me in our apartment in a public housing neighborhood in New York City, squeezing fifteen or twenty cents out of every dime and making sure we ate and dressed well and had some fun growing up. I’ve also recalled how, as a young divorcee, she saw to it that her essentially fatherless sons went to good schools and did their homework every day. 
 
I remember how my mother’s life changed when she remarried and our family moved to New Jersey, where she faced new challenges. I recall her happy smile at times, and the sad look in her eyes on other occasions. I’ve thought about how happy she was on some special family occasions, and many moments years afterward when she enjoyed being with her grandchildren. 
 
I’ve thought about how she insisted on helping take care of me one day when I was in my 40s and had routine surgery, and how she might’ve wanted to help me less than a year after her fatal surgery when Superstorm Sandy knocked the power out of my beachfront condominium for over a week. I’ve imagined how happy she would’ve been at my eldest son’s wedding in Central Park, not far from our former New York City home. 
 
 
I never doubted my mother loved me. I knew it was unconditional love, like the love she felt from her own mother. And I loved her the same. It’s a love I’ve sorely missed sharing for ten years now.