A Trip to New York City

At least once a year my parents would drive the family to the Bronx to visit relatives.  My maternal grandfather and my maiden aunt Sue lived at 1421 172nd Street in the Bronx, and my mother’s siblings and some cousins who lived in the area would congregate there.  The big treat was the lox, whitefish, and other Jewish foods that they brought.  Our family stayed at the Grand Concourse Plaza Hotel.

One year, when I was about 9 or 10 years old, we arrived late in the day and stayed at the hotel for the evening.  My parents went to bed fairly early, but I stayed awake.  My father always brought some bottles of alcoholic beverages to the family gatherings, usually whiskey and blackberry brandy.  As children, we were given blackberry brandy as “medicine” for some upset stomachs and we delighted in its taste.  We also used to take a drink of it on occasion when we were in Jack’s Place, and no one else was there.  On this particular trip, I opened the bottle of blackberry brandy and took a drink, and then another, and I don’t know how many more, but I soon was drunk and staggered into my parent’s bedroom, laughing and barely able to control my movements.  My parents were not happy!

The next day, while all of the extended family was catching each other up on their families, my father decided to take a subway to Macy’s in downtown Manhattan.  I went along with him.  The subway platform was quite crowded, and the travelers pushed forward into the open car.  My father got on just as the door was closing, but I didn’t make it.  I vividly remember looking at my father through the subway window and the look on his face as he recognized me just as the train started to move.  He pointed and mouthed “next stop” to me as his subway car disappeared. Soon, another subway stopped, and I got on.  Fortunately, both subways turned out to be locals, and when the train arrived at the next stop, my father was standing on the platform waiting for me.