A crumbling Catholic Church on Avenue B. Part ghost-story, part love-story; imagine the wedding between the tall handsome Polish immigrant, now in the military--- who meets the blonde beauty of his life--- my parents. The year is 1953 or 54. The facade is bright and fresh. The park is completely different. There might even be flowers. Perhaps they go across the street after the wedding, have a beer on Avenue A. Maybe I've been there myself.
The Liberal Justices Had to Explain Why Pregnant Women Should Be Treated
Like Human Beings
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On Wednesday, the Supreme Court heard arguments for Moyle v. United States,
a case that weighs whether Idaho's abortion ban violates the Emergency
Medical ...
23 hours ago
The color of the door is lovely.
ReplyDeleteLillian... I believe the church is St. Brigid's RC Church on Ave. B between 7th and 8th Streets. That was my parish when I was a kid. My parents used to drag my sister and me to Spanish-language mass every Sunday morning. Of course, I would sit through it just so I can get a dime to buy 10 chocolate penny cookies or an egg cream soda at Rosie's on 7th Street just off of Avenue D on our way back home. Thanks for this memory. I had forgotten it was closed down.
ReplyDeleteHey Spartacus, you are most welcome. LAS
ReplyDelete