Greenpoint Tales

Let me tell you what happened recently. Workers were moving a machine that had its weight at the top. Instead of moving the machine slowly and carefully, they tilted it, and the machine cut one man's ear.

Let me tell you what happened recently. Workers were moving a machine that had its weight at the top. Instead of moving the machine slowly and carefully, they tilted it, and the machine cut one man's ear.

I was 17 when I won the Golden Gloves tournament for the first time in New York. The second time I won was when I was 19. No Pole had ever accomplished that. Even then, they called me "Babyface." Apparently, when you look at me, you can see a baby's face. Golden Gloves opened the door to big-time boxing for me.

Greenpoint in 1983 wasn't what it is now. And Williamsburg, especially in the Bedford area, was rough. There were homeless people and criminals everywhere. You could rent an place for $150 a month and still not want it. The same was true behind Greenpoint Avenue. In our part of Greenpoint, apartments could be rented for $350.

I recently switched to a bar in Williamsburg. People smoke weed, and I hear about ketamine, blankets, mushrooms, and acid, although I don’t see anyone dealing drugs in our establishment. I observe couples who meet at our place through Tinder. I think it’s like Russian roulette.

Even if Greenpoint was not well-regarded, for Poles, it was the best place in the world. especially for those who had recently arrived in America and felt that they were losing their footing. Greenpoint emulated a small Polish town. It was such a comforting place.

Now, I practice three hours a day, so as not to get out of shape. When I get ready for a concert, I don’t sleep because I play. I start my day with Johann Sebastian Bach. When I play the electronic piano, I like to change keys. A famous pianist said, "Bach clears my head in the morning" - and he was right.

The problem was with the floors because the lady showed me that I should wash them on my knees. How is it on my knees? I wanted to know if she wanted me to kneel before her. But she gave me an old towel and showed me: put it under your knees and wash the floor. That's how I washed dishes even at home in Poland.

One of my students, in particular, stood out with exceptional progress. Jola was doing so well that I advised her to take singing lessons and then asked her to marry me. I didn't want her to surpass me in virtuosity. Fortunately, she became a great doctor. She died two years ago.

I was 13 years old and spoke some British English. It was not enough in Brooklyn. My Mom sent me to the school run by nuns, who were quite stern, and corrected me sharply. "You are in America; you are not Maria, you are Mary."

The mother-in-law came in and started yelling at my husband. She called him a moron and told him to fix everything immediately. She also called the woman. She yelled that by Saturday (it was Sunday) the woman should get out of the United States, and that she must return to Poland. Otherwise, the mother-in-law would shoot her.

I woke up in the hospital. I was afraid to look at the place where my hand had been before. Eventually, I looked, and I was very happy because it turned out that it was still there, sewn up. I had neither legal residency nor insurance, I was working illegally, but at the hospital, they didn't investigate.

I am proud of who I am, I spend every summer in Poland. I like the Polish diligence. and striving for a goal. Look at Greenpoint, how the living standards have gone up. Poles are prosperous: it's not just asbestos and cleaning. I like the Polish sense of humor and laid-back attitude.

I discovered Greenpoint in constant amazement: all those butcher and delicatessen shops where you can buy food for pennies, seven bookstores, including four on one street, drunkards gathering at the stairs to the Subway, a real haberdashery shop run by two sisters, a shop with the inscription 'Wedel.'

This neighborhood is changing before my eyes. Americans move here, and children of Polish migrants feel proud that they come from Greenpoint, and this was not always the case. This district is becoming the most expensive and attractive place in New York!

How did we conquer Greenpoint? By international approach and elegance. There were a lot of eateries, i.e., bars, in the district. You went straight to the cash register, then the lady from the window shouted: 'Schabowy!'. Men ate at these places and then went to the bar or the liquor store for alcohol.

After college, I went to work in the U.K. When I returned to New York, huge skyscrapers were already on the eastern river, and old residents had moved out of Greenpoint. Huge trucks raced through the quiet streets. Franklin Street, where I grew up and played in front of my house, turned into a thoroughfare.

Greenpoint it’s one of those places where the lady in the bakery recognizes you. When I walk through the park, the mothers of my daughter's friends, who are sitting on the benches beckon you for a cigarette. I can't imagine living in Manhattan, where you leave the apartment and enter the street, where crowds of tourists roam.

When I was little, I had to read aloud from a Polish newspaper after dinner. It was a pain for me, little one. When I tried to speak English with my dad, my dad said he didn't understand me. He lied as I heard him talking in the store. But my dad wanted me always to remember the Polish language.