Who Knew?

Quite a while back when I was a kid I dreamed of living in a Rural Community. There were 6 of us living in a one bedroom basement apartment in the Bronx. I had plenty of friends, went to summer camp at PS 87, and played out on our crowded one-way street every day. I would see commercials on TV sometimes for the Clean Air Fund and watched the images of children who got to spend 2 weeks or so on a farm. That was my dream. My mother would gently scold me if I brought it up or asked her if I could go, too. There were lots of families with less than we had, she would say. My Uncle Jim would come over on the holidays with pictures and stories of the fish that he caught on trips offshore of Montauk, LI, or with salmon from Alaska. When I went to the beach for the first time at 13 I knew that my love and yearning for nature was justified.

I've always felt a sense of respect for people who know how to make money. It wasn't something that I ever had, so I could really appreciate that it must be some kind of talent. I don't begrudge anyone for that talent, or for any dreams they may have. Maybe when you've had something a while, you forget how special it really is.

I used to spend a lot of time playing in the one square of dirt at the street near my building where there was a tree. If I closed one eye and squinted I could imagine that it was just me and the tree, you couldn't see the other structures around. The front of my building was set back about 15 feet from the street, and to get to my 'front' door you had to go down a long alley about 10 feet wide. According to the Architect at the Conditional Use Hearing, that means we had Rural Character.

Who Knew?