Appreciating our Vietnam veterans

To a generation of Americans, the Vietnam War era is a dark chapter in U.S. history. The mid-1960s to early 1970s, when U.S. involvement in Vietnam was most intense, was a turbulent period. The country seemed divided like it had not been since the Civil War 100 years earlier. Unprecedented numbers of people questioned whether American lives should be risked in battlefields. Some young Americans resisted the call from Uncle Sam to serve in the armed forces.

Over nine million Americans were on active military duty during the Vietnam War. Of those, 2,709,918 served in Vietnam. Nearly 60,000 never made it home alive. Approximately 75,000 returned to the U.S. severely disabled.

According to Capt. Marshall Hanson, USNR (Ret.) and Capt. Scott Beaton as cited in the US Wings website, 85 percent of Vietnam veterans made successful transitions to civilian life. Also, 91 percent say they are glad they served and 74 percent say they would serve again (even knowing the outcome). Still, it took years for many Americans to fully appreciate the sacrifice of Vietnam veterans.

Among those who served in Vietnam are volunteers at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial and Vietnam Era Museum & Educational Center in Holmdel, N.J. In addition to answering questions and providing guided tours, these veterans share information about the war and their time in Vietnam with 8,000-10,000 high school students who each year visit the museum, the only one of its kind in the U.S. What the veterans have to say is sometimes difficult for fellow Americans to hear.

During a recent visit to the memorial and museum, I heard one volunteer recall a woman not wanting to sit next to a returning Vietnam veteran on a plane because he was a "baby killer." Another museum volunteer said he told people he was stationed in Germany rather than Vietnam for 20 years afterward because of the hostility he faced. Other volunteers remembered being yelled at by anti-war protesters.

I also heard a volunteer say he feels closer to other veterans at the memorial and museum than his own brother and childhood friends. That's because of the experience and passion they share to educate young people about the Vietnam War. As I left, I thanked one of the volunteers for not only the interesting tour and information he shared with me, but for his duty in Vietnam.

The great majority of Vietnam veterans are now well past 60 years old.  Let's hope they can live their "golden years" knowing that Americans appreciate their service during a difficult time in our country.

After the election

Yesterday was sunny, unseasonably warm.
Outside our door, we could see surfers riding the waves.

“We can’t lose, it’s election day
We can choose, it's election day
The sun is gonna rise
The stars are gonna fly”
— from Election Day, by Walter Salas-Humara and Sam Bisbee, 2011

Today is damp, autumn-like cool.
Outside our door, we can see surfers riding the waves.

Abandoned and Homeless

Abandoned

They protected New York Harbor

a century ago, 

but now sit stripped

of their artillery.

In their place today grow weeds

and roam wildlife, bicyclists, casual strollers,

all warned:

“Cautious. Hazardous Area.

No unauthorized personnel 

beyond this point.”

“Extremely Hazardous Conditions.

Area Closed.”

By Fort Hancock in Sandy Hook,

skeletons of armaments erode, 

tortoise crawl across paths,

deer stand on the side of roads,

abandoned by the US Army,

left alone by summer sunbathers.

Abandoned they may feel in autumn,

abandoned again they will be in winter.

---

Homeless

The homeless man with the bushy gray beard

pushed the baby carriage

through the lot,

stopping at the sight

of a small black car.

“I ain’t seen one of these

in a long time,” he said.

Minutes later, the man sat down

and put tobacco into a cigarette roller.

He looked up at me, 

having stepped out of the black Fiero 

and now sipping a cafe con leche,

and he began to speak, clearly.

“My first car was a ’70 Thunderbird.”

With a startled smile, I replied,

“So was mine.” 

After a few minutes of conversation

about Thunderbirds, Fieros

and British sports cars,

the homeless man put his roller and cigarettes

into the baby carriage

and began to walk away.

“Have a good day,” he said,

and then paused, and asked,

“Can you spare a few dollars?” 

“Sure, I can spare a few dollars

for you,” I replied. 

Then I paused, and asked,

“Can you do me a favor?”

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

“Can you pose for a picture

with my car?” I asked.

“Sure,” he replied.

“With or without my carriage?”

“It’s up to you,” I said.

“How ever you want to do it.”

He took a moment

to comb his hair

and brush his beard

before walking over

to the Fiero.

He stood next to the black car

without his carriage,

and posed with his hand

on the roof like he owned it,

just as we did our Thunderbirds

many, many autumns ago.

Greenwich Village, 2016

Things are the same
and things change.
Porto Rico is still
where it’s always been,
But Old El Paso
has gone Italian.

Caffe Reggio on Mcdougal
since nineteen twenty-seven
hasn’t changed one bit
except for the prices,
of course.

Students walk by
in the late afternoon,
as young as ever,
perhaps as ambitious
and idealistic as ever.
Certainly, more diverse
than ever.

Today, Greenwich Village
reflects the constant
and the changes
in New York City,
perhaps the US
and our world
as well.

May it ever be so.

Goosebumps

So, as I parked my car in Asbury Park, this big goose calls me from across the street. "Hey, you, with the tie-dyed shirt and that beautiful woman. Take my picture. Take it now, before the sun sets!" 

So, I did.

Ballad of the 59th Street Subway Station

by Lou Bruns

Deep to the bowels where the smells and stench reek,
go the strong men and women, the fools and the meek.
But the scene here unfolds, like a madman's nightmare,
and if you are sane you'll just stay away from there.

The stage is New York, and the actors are men,
with strong supporting roles from the dead and the damned.
The setting’s all perfect...a bum’s at the door,
and then from a distance, you hear a dull roar.

The station is cleared for the coming onslaught,
the transit cop waits, his nerves tied in knots.
And then from the earth comes the five o'clock train,
rolling and rocking like an old drunken lame.

Hundreds and thousands (and then maybe more),
were squashed in that train, right up to the door.
The train grinds its wheels to force itself halt,
and then from the cars came a flash and a bolt.

Hundreds and thousands crammed fighting for space,
it mattered not who you were or what was your race.
And then from the lungs came a cry of despair,
it seems that another train had pulled up in there.

Fat ladies and models; yes even the meek,
the hippies, the hardhats, the cops and the freaks.
They all pushed and shoved to get down the hall,
and out through the gates where the smog greets them all.

For some odd ten minutes, this scene here went by,
and all that I've written is not just a lie.
The screams of the infants, whose mom’s breast they wish,
the odor of armpits that smelled like old fish.

Then suddenly, as if God himself heard our call,
the station went quiet; you could hear a pin fall.
And the wino; whose eyes have just witnessed this scene,
swore off of the bottle, to prevent more DTs.

Written by Lou Bruns with pen on paper in spring of 1972, now published digitally for the first time.

Voice of Amsterdam Houses:

“I was here first, Lincoln Center.
And I housed many New Yorkers
of all shapes and colors
long before all the other
tall new buildings in the ‘hood.

"So, show me and my people respect
as you’re entertained.
Be kind as you go to and from
cafes and restaurants,
stores and offices around town.

"It’s a great big city,
and it can be a good place
for all of us, poor and rich.”

The Seton Hall-Rutgers rivalry

When Seton Hall University's baseball team scored four runs in the bottom of the ninth inning to tie Rutgers en route to a 7-6 win in 10 innings on Tuesday, my college friend Dave and I were ecstatic. We cheered and high-fived each other like some of the undergraduates in the stands. After all, it wasn't just another team our Pirates were playing that day. It was Rutgers, our intra-state rival. Yeah, the Rutgers we always get extra pleasure in beating.

A win against Rutgers, in any sport, on any day, has been extra special to me since I was a student at Seton Hall in 1976. That was the year Rutgers' mens basketball team finished its schedule undefeated, posting an NBA-like 119-93 win over the Pirates early in the season.  Seton Hall finished a very respectable 18-9 thanks to some outstanding play by Glenn Mosely, Greg Tynes and Tom Flaherty. But no, the headlines and talk were all about the great Rutgers team featuring Phil Sellers, Mike Dabney, Ed Jordan, Hollis Copeland, James Bailey and, off the bench, Abdel Anderson. Yeah, you could say I took some pleasure in seeing the Scarlet Knights getting beat (twice) in the Final Four round of the NCAA tournament at the end of March.

It was payback for the Pirates 13 years later, when Seton Hall trounced Rutgers at the Meadowlands, 96-70, en route to the NCAA championship game. That Seton Hall team, featuring John Morton, Andrew Gaze, Ramon Ramos, Daryll Walker and Gerald Greene, beat Indiana, UNLV and Duke in the NCAA tournament before being edged by Michigan in overtime of the final.  To some Seton Hall fans, however, the early-season win against a Rutgers team that would finish 18-13 was among the sweetest.

The Seton Hall-Rutgers basketball rivalry dates back 100 years. I'm happy to say the Pirates have more often gotten the better of the Scarlet Knights during that time, winning 38 of the 67 games they've played. Some of Seton Hall's wins against Rutgers occurred during seasons when the Pirates had mediocre teams. But, as long as the year included a win against the Scarlet Knights, it was not a lost season.

Many of the Seton Hall-Rutgers basketball games have been nail biters -- 20 of the last 24 matchups were decided by six points or less or went into overtime -- but not since the rivalry began contesting the Garden State Hardwood Classic two seasons again. The Pirates trounced the Scarlet Knights, 81-54, in Newark two winters ago, and humiliated Rutgers in Piscataway, 84-55, last December. Yeah, I like that!

The two New Jersey universities have also played 110 baseball games against each other during the last 70 years. Seton Hall holds a 56-53 (with one tie) advantage in the series. Few of the wins, however, could have been as sweet as Tuesday's. Down to its last out of the game with a runner on first base, Seton Hall batters drew three consecutive walks and then came through with a pair of hits to tie it. In the bottom of the 10th, the Pirates again drew three walks and then used an infield hit to bring in the winning run.

Seton Hall nearly did it again today at Rutgers, scoring with the bases loaded in the top of the ninth to pull within a run, but it was not to be as the Scarlet Knights held on to a 3-2 win. So, the Pirates tossed them a bone. Yeah, we'll remember the next time we beat them on the basketball court, baseball field or any other competition.

 

Remembering "El Flaco"

Missing from nearly all the tributes to the great Johan Cruyff today, as news spread of his passing away from lung cancer at age 68, was the impact he had on U.S. soccer fans. Well, some of us, anyway.

After his contract with F.C. Barcelona expired and he declined to play for Holland in the 1978 World Cup, Cruyff came to the U.S. to resume his career. Initially, it was hoped he would be the next big star to sign for the Cosmos. After appearances in a few exhibition games with the team that fall, however, a longer term deal was not worked out.

Instead, Cruyff signed to play for the North American Soccer League's Los Angeles Aztecs during the 1979 season. He wound up winning the NASL's Most Valuable Player award and boosting the team's fortunes on the field and at the gate that year, although Aztecs crowds averaging 14,000 looked tiny in the huge Rose Bowl.

The following year, Cruyff moved on to Washington D.C. to play for the Diplomats. His 45 minutes of brilliance in a match against the Cosmos at the Meadowlands that summer included a moment I will never forget.

With his back towards Cosmos defender Andranik Eskandarian, Cruyff controlled a pass with one foot raised to his waist and, a split second later, used his other foot to juggle the ball over his head and that of Eskandarian. In a flash, Cruyff ran onto his own pass as Eskandarian -- a starter on Iran's 1978 World Cup team and among the NASL's best defenders-- could only turn around, flat-footed, and watch Cruyff race towards the goal.

That stroke of skill and genius by a 33-year-old Cruyff made flying back home from my brother's wedding early that Sunday morning worthwhile. Cruyff was substituted at halftime -- he disliked playing on artificial surfaces -- and within a year he was out of the NASL altogether, choosing to end his brilliant career back in Europe.

"El Flaco," as he was affectionately known to Spanish soccer fans  during the mid-1970s, was a unique talent, a visionary both on and off the field. Certainly, he will be remembered as one of the greatest players of all time.

(Photo of Johan Cruyff from Pinterest)

Little Lewie, the gentle giant

When he was just a teenager in New York City, the man who became Kareem Abdul-Jabbar was affectionately known as "Little Lewie" in the neighborhood around Power Memorial Academy, the high school that once stood on Amsterdam Avenue and 61 Street. 

It's been over 50 years since Kareem, named Lew Alcindor at the time, graduated from Power (which closed in 1984), but many people who lived in the neighborhood still have fond memories of the gentle giant who went on to stardom on three UCLA national championship teams and became the NBA's all-time leading scorer.

Flipping through the current issue of Esquire, this picture caught my attention. Besides recognizing Kareem when he was still Lew, I also recognize the setting for the photo — it’s the P.S. 191 playground on Amsterdam Avenue between 61-60 Streets.

When this photo was taken in 1963, I lived in the Amsterdam Houses neighborhood at 40 Amsterdam Ave., across 61 St. from P.S. 191. Just a first grader at St. Paul the Apostle School on 60 St. between Amsterdam and Columbus Aves., I only vaguely recall Alcindor walking with friends to/from school directly across Amsterdam Ave. from me. Of course, his height made him stand out. I recently asked other St. Paul students on Facebook if they had any recollections of him walking past the school or around the neighborhood when he was at Power. 

They sure did!

"I was with Lew when the photographer was taking the pictures and also have this picture and others of that same day. I was just thinking about the few dances we went to together," wrote Eva, who also lived across the street from Power at 40 Amsterdam Ave. 

"Lew used to visit us," wrote Enid. "He and my sister Eva were good friends. He was a nice person. Very humble and respectful. When he would sit down on the sofa, my father and he would be eye to eye level!"

Enid added that Kareem was "a shy person" but trusted her sister, Eva.

Constance shared a similar memory: “I danced with Lew when I was 15-16 years old at the 'Rooftop' club, ages ago," she wrote.

"I remember him dipping his head to enter the door of Fisher's Grocery store," wrote Linda H. "He bought a soda and it looked so tiny in his hand. Little Lewie showed up for a Power dance with a cute little gal that was about my size. The contrast made me smile." 

Andrew wrote with similar memories of the tall teenager. Nancy also recalled him at the Power dances.

"Lew was friends with my brother John (my brother was on Power's basketball team too!)," wrote Nora. "He was at our house a few times too. But my fondest memory is he and my brother tossing me back and forth at the pool. I never hit the water! (I always joke that I made him a better player.)"

"I remember he wore a tan raincoat, similar to one my father had," wrote Linda O. "He was on Amsterdam Ave., walking either to or from Power, in front of that Palisades Amusement Park poster that was on the construction site in front of what would become Fordham, I think." 

"I used to be scared of the 'giant' until one day he said hello in such a gentle voice!" wrote Diane.

"When i saw him I used to say 'hi Little Lewie'," wrote Andrea. Kathy and Karen also wrote that they remembered him as "Little Lewie."

"I will never forget the time he gave me a ride on his shoulders," wrote Tara.

"He used to play with me when I was in my carriage and pick me up and toss me in the air," recalled James C., who is probably grateful the future basketball great did not use him to practice his sky hook shot.  

"He walked past St. Paul's every day on his way to the subway," wrote Pat. "My brother played basketball with him at Power. I have his autograph signed Lew Alcindor." 

Theresa also wrote recalling him walking past St. Paul's as she was walking home, as did Helen.

"We would pass him all the time when we were on the way to the subway," wrote Helen. "Never had a clue as to who he would become."

“All the kids had talked about him and I remember finally seeing Lew Alcindor for the first time probably when I was in the fifth grade," commented Saida. "Lew was walking past St. Paul's toward the subway. I had never seen anyone that height before and I was also impressed by his dignity and seeming determination. He was dressed in a wool jacket and carried a briefcase."

"My mom told me stories about him when she worked part-time at Power," wrote Angelica. "At 4'11" she was amazed by this teenager's height."

"I had the privilege of seeing him play at Power Memorial as a young girl going to St. Paul's," wrote Terri H. "I knew then he would grow (no pun intended ) to be someone special. It was fun watching him not even have to leap to make a basket."

“I lived at 50 Amsterdam and saw him all the time," remembered Catherine. "Went to many of his basketball games. He was a little uncoordinated in the beginning and soon became a great player.”

Hilda wrote that she remembered seeing Kareem "many times around Power."

Robin wrote that she "also saw him a few times at (the) P.S. 191 night program."

"I was very little but my mother would point him out to me and I do remember that," wrote Bill.

Still, boys will be boys, whether they're elementary school children at St. Paul's or high school students from Power.

"Some of the boys playing in the street, waiting for St. Paul's line-up bell, used to throw snow balls at him as he walked down 60th street towards Amsterdam Avenue," wrote Gina. "I think he retaliated a few times."

“Many times my siblings and I walked alongside him as we went to St. Paul's and he went to Power Memorial," recalled Velda. "Sorry to say, we use to tease him about his height.”

Hector summarized the feelings of many people from the neighborhood when he wrote, "Basically anyone who lived in the projects at one time or another saw him. I lived in 70 Amsterdam and saw him quite frequently."

Please feel free to comment on your own sightings of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, either as a youngster, professional basketball player or author. It's unlikely you've forgotten him if your paths ever crossed in New York City or elsewhere! 

(Photo of photo from Esquire March 2016 issue copyright The Richard Avedon Foundation)

Hypocrisy aplenty

If a Republican occupied the White House, wouldn’t Republicans feel it is appropriate for the president to nominate a Supreme Court justice? Wouldn’t Democrats believe it would be fairer to wait for a new president to nominate a justice? It seems there’s plenty of hypocrisy on both sides right now!

Let President Obama do his job and nominate the next justice. Hopefully, his pick will be a person that senators from both parties can be open-minded to accepting or rejecting based on his or her qualifications.

I’m sure most Americans believe the US still has the best form of government in the world. But, a growing number of people feel our political system, as we’re continuing to learn during this presidential campaign, is in need of major improvement.

Would limiting presidents to one six-year term be a step in the right direction? How about electing senators every four years, and limiting senators and House representatives to 20 years in Congress? And, would limiting Supreme Court justices to 20 years of service be a good idea?

Shouldn’t both Republicans and Democrats want to work together on legally viable campaign reform that would reduce the need to raise and spend more money every election? Don’t both parties want to put their heads together on improving a presidential campaign system in which only a few voters from a handful of states largely determine the major candidates?

I would hope so!

Improving our political system so that the government can function to its fullest in the best interests of our country can be done — and will be done, hopefully soon. Putting hypocritical rhetoric about the nomination of the next Supreme Court justice aside would be a good start this week.

(Image from www.smithsonianmag.com)

Carly Simon and Patti Smith: So different, yet similar

They were born only 18 months and five days apart, one in the biggest city in the U.S., the other in the second largest at the time.  But, the differences between Carly Simon and Patti Smith have always seemed so significant, they might as well have arrived on the popular music scene decades and continents apart.

Yet, their similarities, as revealed in their recent best-selling, critically acclaimed autobiographies, are surprisingly as significant.

Carly Simon was born to a wealthy family and had a privileged life growing up in the New York City area.  Her parents hosted the rich and famous in their home, often getting away to their mansion in Connecticut and, each summer, vacationing in Martha's Vineyard.

Patti Smith grew up in a working class family in a modest New Jersey suburb of Philadelphia.

Carly graduated from a private girls high school in Westchester County and went on to Sarah Lawrence College.  She dropped out after one semester in order to concentrate on her music career as one-half of the Simon Sisters.

After Patti graduated from her local public high school, she went to work at a toy factory.

After a few twists and turns, however, their different paths began converging in New York City by the time they were in their early 20s.  Carly found fame as a solo singer in 1971 with her song, "That's the Way I've Always Heard It Should Be."  She had a succession of hit singles and albums over the next several years.

Just as Carly's fame was peaking in 1975, Patti released her first album, Horses.  The differences between their music could not be more pronounced.  Yet, at least one New York radio station, WNEW-FM, saw nothing strange about playing songs from both of their new albums.

After reading Boys in the Trees, Carly Simon's 2015 book about the first three decades of her life, and M Train (2015) and Just Kids (2010), Patti Smith's books recalling events in her life, it's startling to learn how similar many of their experiences have been.

They both worked hard to achieve their success.  Despite her background, the music business gave little to Carly.  She earned her fame with determination, using her singing voice to deal with a stutter that for years undermined her self-confidence.  She also overcame stage fright, triggered by depression and anxiety, to bring her recordings to the attention of more people.

In spite of her humble origins and need to constantly work odd jobs to support herself, Patti found her muse and would not let it go.  She wrote constantly and, eventually, found the right kind of sound to accompany her words.  She sought opportunities to showcase her talent and, when they came, vocalized her poetry in a unique way that caught on with an increasing number of people.

And then there were the men in their lives.

For Carly, the main man was James Taylor, of course.  Both of them already successful, they married in 1972.  Even though they've been divorced for over 30 years, he remains the most significant lover of her life.  But, certainly not her only.

In her autobiography, Carly sheds a lot of light on many other men.  But, she's holding on to some secrets.  Following is her explanation of "You're So Vain," her 1973 hit:

And no, the song is not just about one person. Let’s just say Warren Beatty played second base in this particular infield, which he knows so well, but as for who manned first and third–ask the shortstop. In all seriousness, the subjects of the first and third verses don’t know that this song is also about them, so it would be inappropriate and a rude awakening to disclose their identities until they, them (vain) selves, were notified.

For Patti, the main men were Robert Mapplethorpe and Fred "Sonic" Smith.  She devoted Just Kids to chronicling her relationship with Mapplethorpe, an artistic photographer she befriended shortly after arriving in New York City.  They remained close until his death from AIDS in 1989, by which time she had been married to Fred for nine years.  Fred passed away in 1994.

Broken-hearted but far from broken, both Carly and Patti carried on with their careers and continued raising the son and daughter each of them had with their husband.  Patti reflected on this in M Train:

We want things we cannot have. We seek to reclaim a certain moment, sound, sensation. I want to hear my mother’s voice. I want to see my children as children. Hands small, feet swift. Everything changes. Boy grown, father dead, daughter taller than me, weeping from a bad dream. Please stay forever, I say to the things I know. Don’t go. Don’t grow.

Carly and Patti are both grandmothers now and sharing their life experiences with music fans, some who realize that, like many other things around the world, the similarities of people are often as significant as their differences.

Humans of New York

“She’s a life-long Jersey girl.  I’m a native New Yorker who’s lived across the Hudson River most of his life.  Our first date was an Elton John concert at Madison Square Garden.  On our second date, we just walked around midtown.  I remember buying her a hot dog from a street vendor. The meat fell out of the bun and to the ground after she bit into it, but I didn’t buy her another one.  She still liked me, though, and we got married five years later.”

Inspired by by Brandon Stanton, Humans of New York: Stories; 2015