Tenement Life - Part 1

Me, age 10

93 Madison Street, New York, NY

I was rescued by a fireman when I was 8.  He carried me, my brother, grandmother and Lucy the dog out of our living room window and onto the extended ladder.  It was the fire of February 3, 1971 at 31 Oliver Street, lower Manhattan.  I don't remember fright.  I only remember wrapping my little arms around that fireman and thinking...thank you, hero.  It was a bone-chilling night and the place downstairs, a bookie joint, let us stay a while and kept us warm.  It was the first time I saw shows on a color-t.v. and I was in awe.  This was the original "shock and awe"...lol. 

Eight months before this, my father had passed away at age 37 from heart-related issues.  Three years before the fire, my mother had disappeared.  To this day, I don't know if she is alive or dead, and I honestly would have the same numb feeling either way.

After a short stay at the President Hotel, right smack in the middle of Times Square (thanks to the American Red Cross), we were placed in a two-bedroom apartment at 93 Madison Street - 2 blocks from 31 Oliver Street.  The photo above is the actual building, present-day.  Our apartment faced the back and was on the third floor.  It was a run-down, six -story, walk-up tenement, although I didn't know at the time what a tenement was, and didn't realize it was run-down.

My brother and I were raised by our paternal grandmother, Anna.  She did the best with the knowledge and resources she had, which wasn't very much for sure.  We each got to pick out colors of paint for our bedrooms.  I shared the "big bedroom" with my grandmother, and my brother, Joe had his own tiny bedroom.  I chose a bright orange paint.  I was on an orange kick back then.  The landlord was a slumlord and heat and hot water was scarce.  My grandmother made sure to start up the small electrical heater in my room, about 20 minutes before I had to wake up for school so I wouldn't wake up to the cold.

Fun and adventure was still aplenty, even though we were basically poor.  My grandmother was severely over-protective of me and I felt lucky and happy if I was even allowed to stay a while in the hallway outside the apartment and sit on the steps with a friend of mine who lived upstairs - Maria Migliorini.  She was about 5 years older than me and always had Marlboros on her...lol.  She would light up and puff away, all awhile frantically waving her arms about in an attempt to move the smoke away.  She also suggested I try a puff, and I did.  I was 9, she was 14.  To say I started coughing would be an understatement.

In the summer, my brother and I would play a game where he would throw something down to the fire-escape below and I would have to run down the ladder and get it.  (unbeknownst to our grandmother) Then he would run down and we timed each other.  He taught me how to catch and throw a football right there in the living room.  We ate home-cooked veal cutlets, meatballs with sauce and sweet sausages from the Italian sausage man down the block.  If grandma didn't have the energy to cook, we were fine with t.v. dinners.  They came in aluminum containers back then and had to be heated in the oven for 3o or more minutes.  Of course we ate the tiny dessert first.  

There was a little old Italian man from the "old country" who lived upstairs who spoke no English, but knew how to approach me to try to get a kiss when I was around 13 or 14...hahaha.  I remember we would pass each other on the stairs.  Me going down and him coming up and straight towards me.  I was petite and nimble and would easily duck my head and shoot down the stairs in avoidance.

I had all the toys I wanted, pets, was nicely dressed (according to my grandmother's taste), was a great student, and won two awards at 6th grade graduation.  One for Art and one for Reading.  One material thing my brother and I were never allowed to have was a Christmas tree.  My grandmother thought it insensitive to my dead dad to display a "festive" tree.  My dad was her only son and she never really got over his death.  

To Be Continued...