SERENDIPITY

Marilyn Armstrong — Seeking Intelligent Life on Earth


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Neighborly

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I was born in Brooklyn, New York and grew up in Holliswood, Queens. For those unfamiliar with New York, it is divided into 5 boroughs, each of which has its own character and history. Most people, when they think of New York, think of Manhattan. This is the island on which you will find Wall Street, the Empire State Building and other signature buildings that symbolize the city of New York.

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Most of New York is not Manhattan, and even Manhattan isn’t just skyscrapers and Fifth Avenue. It too has its neighborhoods where people make homes. Greenwich Village, at the lower end of the island, is nothing like Wall Street. Harlem bears little resemblance to Park Avenue which has a character utterly different than the Lower East Side. Fort Tryon Park — home of the Cloisters — is a different world from Broadway. Manhattan is small, but there’s a lot of stuff going on. From the carousel in the park to the open air markets near Rivington Street, to Tiffany and the canyons of the financial district, there’s something to fascinate everyone, all crammed into a very small space.

Which is how come most people don’t live in Manhattan. Real estate prices are out of sight, so most of the life of the city happens in the other four boroughs.

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Brooklyn and Queens are where most people live, in the many neighborhoods. I grew up in Queens in Holliswood. It was big old houses, woods and fields when I lived there, though I suppose that has changed. Despite being less than a mile from major subway lines and downtown Jamaica , we were surrounded by small truck  farms. People raised garden crops, even corn. There were ducks, geese and chickens. Donkeys, too. The city had grown around Holliswood, but had not yet consumed it.

Brooklyn went through similar changes, although Brooklyn was, until recently, more populous and urban than Queens. The biggest changes in my lifetime have taken place as rundown areas gentrified and became “classy” and expensive. I understand Staten Island is no longer the suburban-exurban area it was, but I haven’t been there in a long time so all I can do is pass on rumors. The same is true of the Bronx. I never really spent any time in the Bronx, but I hear that it’s beginning to pull out of its many decades long slump.

Gentrification is changing the face of cities all across the U.S. People are coming back to the cities.

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I needed to provide this background because when I say I grew up in New York City,  people get the wrong idea. I really didn’t grow up on the mean streets. I grew up in a rambling old house surrounded by trees, not unlike where I live now … except I took a subway to school and had access to all the stuff that New York offers. It was, from a teenager’s point of view, about as good as it gets. Life in a country setting with cheap, easy access to the city of New York.

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The first time I really lived in a city was Jerusalem. Although Jerusalem is definitely urban, it’s not urban like Chicago, Los Angeles or Boston. It’s unique. Special and very ancient. It is full of ghosts and thousands of years of history hang heavy on its stone walls. Definitely not your average urban area. After I moved back to the U.S., I settled in Boston, which was my first American urban living experience. I liked it. Mostly, I liked the restaurants.

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I didn’t like the dirt, the parking problems, the traffic, the noise, or the constant construction and gridlock. Not to mention the petty crime that’s an inescapable part of city life and from which no neighborhood is exempt. It doesn’t matter where you live or how much you pay. People will break into your car, burglarize your house if they can and sometimes, hold you up to take anything you’ve got worth taking. I never got mugged, but an awful lot of people I knew did. I had a couple of cars stolen and vandalized. That must count for something.

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And then … after ten years in Roxbury, which was, rumors to the contrary notwithstanding, a wonderful neighborhood, we got out of  Boston and moved to … where did you say? Uxbridge? Where is Uxbridge? No, not Oxford. South central Massachusetts down by the Rhode Island border. Due south of Worcester. The Blackstone Valley. Yes, that’s in Massachusetts. It’s off the Mass Pike.

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We settled into living in a very small town with few changes to our life style. It turned out neighbors are neighbors. They were friendlier in Roxbury and certainly nosier, probably because we lived so tightly packed together … but rumors fly thick and fast in the country, too.

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I have lived, as you can tell, in many places and I have found many things are universally true wherever you live. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a big city or a tiny village, everyone knows your business. You don’t have to tell them. They hear it through the walls, they pick it up in the grocery store, in church, from your kids and friends and family.

People talk. If you are doing anything interesting, they will talk about you. Even if you aren’t doing anything interesting, they will talk about you because people talk about each other. It’s a people thing.

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Uxbridge is not exactly exciting. There isn’t much crime and not many organized activities, though the churches do their best to fill the gap. No public transportation, so teenagers have a hard time until they can get a license to drive. Mostly, life is people spending time with people. Hanging out with friends. Watching a movie together. Shopping in a group. Celebrating holidays and birthdays. Barbeques in the back yard in the summer. Trick or treating on Halloween.

If Uxbridge had coffee houses, lots of  shops and museums, how often would we go there? How often did we go to such places when we lived near them? I lived in Boston for 15 years and I only went to the Museum of Science after moving to Uxbridge because I wanted my granddaughter to see it.

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I grew up in New York and never visited the Statue of Liberty. I did spend time in museums while I was growing up, but my family didn’t take me there. I was interested in history, so I took myself. Famous sights? The Empire State Building? Never been to the top. Never visited the World Trade Center. Never walked across the Brooklyn Bridge or visited Ellis Island. This is true of most New Yorkers. Tourists go those places. New Yorkers only go if they are entertaining out-of-town guests or work in the building.

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No matter where you live, life is about people and relationships, not places. City and country are not all that different except for scenery. People are people. Suburb, city, or middle of nowhere, it’s your friends and family who are your world, not your town, city, or state. Where you live is a state of mind, not of the union.

 


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The White Hurricane of 1888

Today is my birthday. It’s also the anniversary of the biggest, baddest blizzard to ever hit the east coast of the United States. This year, it snowed just the other day. There’s talk of more snow next week. The early part of March is frequently stormy. Blizzards are relatively common, though usually when the sun is this high in the sky, the snow melts pretty quickly. But not always.

75-StormHPCR-92012 was a mild, snowless winter. This year has given us a couple of serious storms, though it could have been worse. It has been worse.

I appear to have been karmically destined for snowy climes. This is not only the story of a storm, but a cautionary tale to never forget winter isn’t over until the daffodils are in bloom. You can never overestimate how dangerous weather in this region can be, especially this time of year when wind patterns become unstable with the upcoming change of seasons.

I was born in Brooklyn, New York on March 11. There had been a blizzard a few days before, but apparently it wasn’t a problem because I was safely born in Brooklyn Women’s Hospital. Nonetheless, throughout my childhood, no one in my family ever neglected to mention the blizzard that had hit the area just before I was born.

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Early March is a fine time for big snowstorms in the northeast. March 11, 1888 brought the biggest winter storm to ever hit the region. Known locally as the Brooklyn Blizzard of 1888 and up and down the east coast as the Great White Hurricane, it is my birthday blizzard, a foretaste of Marilyn to come. Or something like that.

It was the worst blizzard to ever hit New York city and broke records from Virginia to Maine. It remains one of the worst — and most famous — storms in United States history. Accumulations of 40 to 50 inches were recorded. It’s hard to picture how much snow that is unless you’ve been through a few really big snowstorms. The deepest snow from one storm in my life so far was 28 inches. That’s only a bit more than half the amount of the 1888 blizzard. Despite all the changes and improvements to technology and infrastructure, that volume of snow would still paralyze us today. It’s more snow than any infrastructure can handle.

Did I mention snow is heavy? 50 inches on a standard roof will cause it to cave in. It would crush us.

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It wasn’t merely a snow storm. The super storm included sub-zero temperatures and gale force winds. It was one of those occasions when people get put in their place, forcibly reminded of how strong Mother Nature is.

The storm blanketed areas of  New Jersey, New York, Massachusetts and Connecticut. It carried with it sustained winds of more than 45 miles per hour. It produced drifts in excess of 50 feet. My house, at its peak, is about 40 feet, so so we are talking about drifts as high as a three-story building.

All forms of transportation were stopped. Roads and railroads were unusable. People were trapped in their houses for up to a week.

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The Great White Hurricane paralyzed the U.S. East Coast from the Chesapeake Bay to Maine. The storm extended all the way up into the Atlantic provinces of Canada. The telegraph went down, leaving  major cities including MontrealNew York, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Washington, D.C. and Boston without communication for days to weeks. Because of the storm, New York began putting its telegraph and telephone wiring underground to protect it from future disasters.

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Grand Street in New Britain, Connecticut, published by F. W. Allderige in 1888.

The seas and coastlines were not spared. In total, from the Virginia coast to New England, more than 200 ships were grounded or wrecked and more than 100 seamen died.

125 years later, no winter storm has topped the big one of 1888.


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Daily Prompt: Places – Take Me Back to Coney Island

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Take me back to Coney Island, the Coney Island I remember. I want to be on the Boardwalk. I want to sniff the air full of the aroma of spicy exotic food, pop corn and hotdogs. I want to smell the salt air blowing off the ocean and shade my eyes from the gleam of bright sun on white sand.

I want to hear the endless screams of riders on the Cyclone, the squeal of kids discovering how far they can see from the top of the Wonder Wheel.

I want to watch the people, all the different people of every color from everywhere in the world as thy gape at the strange wonders along the boardwalk, hear the rumble of the elevated trains passing.

I want it to be exactly how it was the first time I rode the big roller coasters and screamed in delighted terror. I want to be that child again for a single day, the little girl discovering fear and wonder on a hot summer day when the world was young.


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Sandy takes Coney Island amusement zone on rough ride

See on Scoop.itForty Two: Life and Other Important Things

It may not be as bad as the Jersey Shore, but Hurricane Sandy also hit Coney Island’s amusement district pretty hard.

For those who asked what became of various parts of the area, this covers it pretty well.

See on www.nypost.com

 


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Coney Island after Hurricane Sandy

See on Scoop.itForty Two: Life and Other Important Things

CONEY ISLAND, NEW YORK—Despite rumors of looting in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, there was no evidence of mobs near the area’s famous boardwalk this afternoon. around the usually bustling landmark was eerily abandoned.

See on puplewig.wordpress.com

The Cyclone and the Wonder Wheel survived. The oldest things made it through the storm. The beach has sustained serious damage and nobody is talking about the boardwalk, but we can hope.

 


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Boston Reporter Garry Armstrong’s Wonderful Broadcast Life – WHDH-TV, December 30, 2011, By: Roger Lyons

His obstacles were many. Some might have said insurmountable. He was a painfully shy black man with a hearing problem, trying to break into major market radio and television in the ‘60’s. Yet Garry Armstrong went on to accomplish amazing things in his illustrious broadcast career.

Garry and I at a “thank you to the press” party at the end of President Clinton’s vacation on Martha’s Vineyard. It was a great party!

Whereas racism was certainly a factor in Armstrong’s career as a person of color, it was never really a defining issue to him. ‘I was just so driven to succeed, racism was never a major thing on my radar,’ he says. ‘I was much more aware of my hearing difficulties. It was more personal.’ Armstrong worked hard on his diction, taking speech therapy in college, to counteract his hearing deficiency.

The Brooklyn, NY native cut his broadcast teeth at Hofstra College radio station. He was a terrific writer, but his shyness made him hesitant to attempt on-air work. But that was overcome by his ability to conduct interviews with major celebrities, such as Johnny CarsonArthur GodfreyMerv GriffinFrank SinatraSammy Davis, Jr.Harry Belafonte and Sidney Poitier. Griffin told the young reporter, ‘Well done. You have a future in the business. You listened to me!’

Garry with Tip O’Neill. He is not trying to sell him something, he is showing Tip a watch he had just bought!

After college, at ABC radio network news, he transcribed radio interviews from news legends such as Ted Koppeland Bill Beutel and became the youngest producer at the network. He edited the copy of biggies such as Paul HarveyEdward P. Morgan and Howard Cosell.

In 1968, ABC sent Armstrong out to cover major events, such as the iconic Democratic National Convention inChicago and the Tet Offensive in Vietnam. His most memorable ‘war story’ was when he sat around a campfire in Vietnam, chatting and eating beans with then-President Lyndon B. Johnson.

Shortly thereafter, he landed an on-air job at a small TV station in Hartford, CT. ‘It was so small that there were only 2 on-air people,’ explains Armstrong. He became the all-purpose news reporter, and learned how to shoot and edit film. Once, however, Armstrong learned a humbling lesson when he returned from scoring a scoop to discover he’d forgotten to load film into the camera.

Ultimately, Armstrong was hired as a general assignment reporter at Boston’s Channel 7, where he flourished throughout his 31-year tenure. He established a rapport with both the black and white communities during Boston’s divisive school desegregation period. Yet his reporting career was certainly not without incident.

For example, while covering a story in South Boston, he was accosted by an angry crowd. His first thought was to get the film back to the station, so he made sure it got into the news van.

But the crowd was chanting racial epithets at him, including the N-word. Armstrong defused the situation in Mel Brook-sian fashion. He turned to the crowd and said, ‘I’m not an ‘N’. I’m a Samoan!’ And the crowd backed off.

One time, as Armstrong was covering the Boston Red Sox on Opening Day at Fenway Park, people behind him were getting rowdy, swearing and hitting him on the head just before he went on air. ‘I lost it,’ reveals Armstrong. ‘I was swinging at the guy as we went back live.’ He thought he’d surely lose his job, but when he got back to the station, General Manager Sy Yanoff approached him exclaiming, ‘Garry, way to go. That’s such great stuff. You went with the moment. That’s what’s so great about you.’

Another time, a radio station reported that Armstrong had been seriously injured in a race-related melee. When he called the newsroom to say he’d be back soon with the film, the assignment editor was shocked. He thought Armstrong had been taken to the hospital, and stopped the station from going on the air with a bulletin reporting on his reporter’s alleged beating.

Despite all the celebrities, political leaders and newsmakers he covered, Garry, the seasoned reporter, turned into an awed beginner when he interviewed his movie idol John Wayne during the Duke’s visit to Boston in the early 70′s. Afterwards, Garry repeatedly asked his Channel 7 colleagues if they knew who shook his hand until they suggested he calm down and get back to finishing his story.

The 3-time Emmy-winning, Silver Circle inductee has had a wonderful broadcast life. ‘We were so fortunate to have been in radio and television in that era,’ Armstrong opines, ‘because you could do long-form television news. You could have as much time as you needed to tell the story.’ Now, when he tells young journalists how it was, all they can say is, ‘Boy, you were lucky!’

Boston Television Examiner

Roger Lyons is an veteran of the Boston television market. He has worked at many stations in news, public affairs, promotion and advertising. Roger has numerous Emmy nominations, many other industry awards and has served for over 20 years on the Board of Governors of the Boston/New…

A personal note: I talk about Garry a lot, so I thought it might be nice if I put something here for you to actually know a little more about my terrific husband. I wish I could get him to do a little blogging of his own! He has some absolutely wonderful stories of the people he met during his years as a reporter, the changes he saw both in the news business and in the world and so much more. But, so far, no dice. I’ll keep trying. Meanwhile, this is a lovely piece by Roger Lyons that was published at the beginning of this year.

Suggested by the author:


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Once More Around!

Anyone who knows me at all knows I love roller coasters. I love them all … but for me, there’s nothing that comes near the Cyclone at Coney Island, Brooklyn, New York.

Been riding that beast since I was 8 years. The last time, I was 62. That was 3 years ago. I’m ready to go again. Just say the word!

Apparently my secret is out. I love it so much, that whenever new footage of the Cyclone pops up, someone sends it to me.

So, here’s the latest greatest crazy video of the coaster and of course, nutty middle-aged people enjoying the last great legal high … the adrenaline rush as you look down that first drop … wondering if this time, the car really is going to hit a pigeon and you and your friends will go flying off into eternity.

This is the best video I’ve seen to date.  Very clean, very nicely done. it’s almost sort of  like being there.

Nah. Who am I kidding? There’s nothing like being there except being there.

Garry says we are too old. He points out that I can barely walk. But  you don’t have to walk on the Cyclone. You just sit and scream. I could do it. I could, really. Especially the screaming.

Well, we’ll always have 2009 in Brooklyn.

Ah, the refreshing sounds of joy mixed with terror! What a great thing it is to be safely scared to death. Just gotta go back … one last time. I hear the new rides are FANtastic.

And here, a sentimental song and a look at those long ago days of doo wop and 1962 … beehive hairdo and mini skirts. Gee. I was the same age that my granddaughter is now … yikes.

Hey Brooklyn … how are you?

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