Sunday, April 20, 2014
Easter Atlantic City NJ
Sunday, April 06, 2014
Atlantic City NJ
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Atlantic City NJ
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Ventnor NJ
Ventnor boardwalk
Ventnor is small, middle class town directly south of Atlantic City. Its boardwalk is an extension of the Atlantic City boardwalk. Postcard probably from sixties or seventies.
Labels: Atlantic City, boardwalks, jersey shore, postcard
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Atlantic City NJ
Saturday, November 02, 2013
Something I loved about Atlantic City
Something I loved about Atlantic City in the Sixties. In its decline the place was wide open. Maybe it was always wide open. Everyone knew what it was about, & talked about it. There was none of the secret stuff where everyone pretends they don't know what everyone knows. The lid was totally off the city. It was built on sand & swamp that couldn't properly be called real estate, & the facade was the true history as well as the myth. It might have been the most honest city in America. It didn't try to fool anyone. Then I'd go to these ethnic neighborhoods in North Jersey, Italian & Irish, people going "Shhh, shhh," I'd think, what is this bullshit?
Labels: Atlantic City
Sunday, October 06, 2013
Atlantic City NJ
Rolling Rock Beer sign framed by The Traymore Hotel
Labels: Atlantic City, boardwalks, jersey shore, motel hotel, postcard
Sunday, September 08, 2013
Atlantic City NJ
Sunday, September 01, 2013
Atlantic City NJ
The Heinz Pier
Destroyed in the 1944 hurricane.
Labels: Atlantic City, boardwalks, jersey shore, postcard
Friday, August 30, 2013
Atlantic City NJ
Thursday, August 29, 2013
My parents' marriage began visibly collapsing after Nana, my paternal grandmother, retired, sold the house to my parents & moved to Atlantic City. I have never given much thought as to why Nana apparently served as a "glue" in the marriage. The arrangement was economically advantageous to Nana & my parents. Dad had done a lot to make the house more family-oriented. Made many renovations. But his interests were becoming more personal. He had put in his years with the Boy Scouts, Little League & Married Couples Club at the Methodist church. He was more into military history & local politics.
One night mom & dad were having an increasingly alcohol-fed argument downstairs as I was trying to fall asleep. I rarely fell asleep easily. I went downstairs & told them to stop, that I had school the next day. There was nothing I could have done to more righteously embarrass them. They looked humiliated. To dad's credit, he eventually quit the heavy drinking. But it got worse, Another night mom actually so lit into dad he wept. I heard this from my bed. I felt humiliated.
There was one person who saw, & heard & knew the history of this marriage. & was witness to traumatizing events happening to my siblings before I was born, when my one of my brothers was horribly burned on a hot radiator. My parents were not directly involved in this.
My week long visits to Nana in Atlantic City were sanctuaries. I subjected myself to her rules - few but firm, three good meals, regular bedtime hours. The only "favor" Nana asked of me was to learn chess from a lonely, elderly man in her building. I was a lousy student, would've preferred checkers. But Nana supplied some ice cream for the occasions. He also had some interesting stories.
When I returned from a week in Atlantic City in the summer or over Easter vacation, I probably looked healthier, slept better, behaved less neurotically for a brief period. Being nurtured isn't the same as being spoiled. Nana provided me with a emotional "vacation". She knew what I was trying to escape. She gave me an amazing "playground," a fairly long leash within certain limits, & did not fill up my pockets with money. She was on a fixed income.
One night mom & dad were having an increasingly alcohol-fed argument downstairs as I was trying to fall asleep. I rarely fell asleep easily. I went downstairs & told them to stop, that I had school the next day. There was nothing I could have done to more righteously embarrass them. They looked humiliated. To dad's credit, he eventually quit the heavy drinking. But it got worse, Another night mom actually so lit into dad he wept. I heard this from my bed. I felt humiliated.
There was one person who saw, & heard & knew the history of this marriage. & was witness to traumatizing events happening to my siblings before I was born, when my one of my brothers was horribly burned on a hot radiator. My parents were not directly involved in this.
My week long visits to Nana in Atlantic City were sanctuaries. I subjected myself to her rules - few but firm, three good meals, regular bedtime hours. The only "favor" Nana asked of me was to learn chess from a lonely, elderly man in her building. I was a lousy student, would've preferred checkers. But Nana supplied some ice cream for the occasions. He also had some interesting stories.
When I returned from a week in Atlantic City in the summer or over Easter vacation, I probably looked healthier, slept better, behaved less neurotically for a brief period. Being nurtured isn't the same as being spoiled. Nana provided me with a emotional "vacation". She knew what I was trying to escape. She gave me an amazing "playground," a fairly long leash within certain limits, & did not fill up my pockets with money. She was on a fixed income.
Labels: Atlantic City, boardwalks, growing up
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
The March on Washington
I don't recall The March on Washington having any effect on me one way or another. Puzzled me. I was aware of it. Knew it was happening, Read papers, heard news on radio if not always on TV. Surely my family didn't like it. By that time I was becoming uncomfortable with the language of racism & turned off by the violence. I was beginning to feel the civil rights cause was unstoppable. It wasn't affecting me much where I lived.
Then I realized I was almost certainly with my Grandmother in Atlantic City on Wednesday August 28, 1963. Rarely read newspapers there. Watched TV only for an hour or two in the evening if I wasn't on the boardwalk. I usually had a novel to read in bed, & listened to the local rock station my small transistor radio. I simply wasn't paying attention.
Recently read this book: The March on Washington: Jobs, Freedom, and the Forgotten History of Civil Rights, a new book by William P. Jones. Not the most enjoyable prose I ever read. Crammed with facts. It begins before WWII, with A. Philip Randolph's plans for the first March on Washington in 1941, how the groundwork was laid then for the 1963 march, with many of the same leaders & organizers. About 80% of the history, involving labor unions, African-American organizations, African-American women's groups, many unfamiliar names, was new to me.
One of the demands of the 1963 March, stated at the end from the podium by Bayard Rustin, was for a higher minimum wage.
Then I realized I was almost certainly with my Grandmother in Atlantic City on Wednesday August 28, 1963. Rarely read newspapers there. Watched TV only for an hour or two in the evening if I wasn't on the boardwalk. I usually had a novel to read in bed, & listened to the local rock station my small transistor radio. I simply wasn't paying attention.
Recently read this book: The March on Washington: Jobs, Freedom, and the Forgotten History of Civil Rights, a new book by William P. Jones. Not the most enjoyable prose I ever read. Crammed with facts. It begins before WWII, with A. Philip Randolph's plans for the first March on Washington in 1941, how the groundwork was laid then for the 1963 march, with many of the same leaders & organizers. About 80% of the history, involving labor unions, African-American organizations, African-American women's groups, many unfamiliar names, was new to me.
One of the demands of the 1963 March, stated at the end from the podium by Bayard Rustin, was for a higher minimum wage.
Labels: Atlantic City, growing up, human rights, in the news
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Pigeons of New Jersey
Crowding the cracks & ledges in the chasm
of the Great Falls of the Passaic
below the footbridge where Dr. Williams
& Allen Ginsberg looked down at mossy boulders,
the rising mist, mulled over
the consequences of Hamilton's America.
"On the boardwalk in Atlantic City,"
the important men, Capone & Trump,
Dean & Jerry, & the giggling colleens
riding trains from Philly to the sea,
Nana throwing popcorn during the Great War,
meeting Sam Rixon, Liverpool Irish.
of the Great Falls of the Passaic
below the footbridge where Dr. Williams
& Allen Ginsberg looked down at mossy boulders,
the rising mist, mulled over
the consequences of Hamilton's America.
"On the boardwalk in Atlantic City,"
the important men, Capone & Trump,
Dean & Jerry, & the giggling colleens
riding trains from Philly to the sea,
Nana throwing popcorn during the Great War,
meeting Sam Rixon, Liverpool Irish.
Labels: Atlantic City, poem, postcard
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Atlantic City NJ
Louis Armstrong & Gary Lewis at The Steel Pier, Summer 1965
I was down there for two or three weeks that summer, but not during their appearance. The crowd belies the notion some people have that Atlantic City was an unpopular destination at the time. The problem was the infrastructure was falling apart. There were plenty of good motels, but the large old hotels & Convention Hall on the boardwalk no longer supported a healthy off-season convention business. The boardwalk lacked amusement rides. Las Vegas had legal gambling, luxurious hotels & better entertainment. Atlantic City had become uncool. But the boardwalk was the grandest street I knew. Up toward the Steel Pier (where I only occasionally ventured) the sensory experience was almost overwhelming at night.
I was down there for two or three weeks that summer, but not during their appearance. The crowd belies the notion some people have that Atlantic City was an unpopular destination at the time. The problem was the infrastructure was falling apart. There were plenty of good motels, but the large old hotels & Convention Hall on the boardwalk no longer supported a healthy off-season convention business. The boardwalk lacked amusement rides. Las Vegas had legal gambling, luxurious hotels & better entertainment. Atlantic City had become uncool. But the boardwalk was the grandest street I knew. Up toward the Steel Pier (where I only occasionally ventured) the sensory experience was almost overwhelming at night.
Labels: Atlantic City, boardwalks, jersey shore, music, postcard
Sunday, June 02, 2013
Atlantic City NJ
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Oceanview NJ
Pine Haven Campground. Still in business but a lot less rugged.
Labels: Atlantic City, jersey shore, motel hotel, postcard
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Atlantic City NJ
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
If you come from a small town & you want to be a writer
If you come from a small town & you want to be a writer, one of the first things you have to grasp is that every small town has a corner store owned by a guy named Larry across the street from the grammar school. & you will be marked forever as hopelessly provincial if you insist your Larry was the only Larry or the greatest Larry.
What saved me was that, as a teen, I spent nearly a month every year in Atlantic City, winter & summer, & stepping on the boardwalk at California Ave., looking north toward the great piers & The Traymore was always so awesome. I felt like other people feel when they go to a dark place & see the Milky Way. Next thing I'm back home sitting at the counter in Murray's drinking a cherry Coke & nobody understands that three or four times a year I'm having these religious experiences where I'm seeing disembodied psychic energy patterns left by Al Capone, Frank Sinatra, Dean & Jerry, & Freddie "Boom Boom" Cannon shouting "Wooo" as he flies by in front of Irene's Gift Shop.
What saved me was that, as a teen, I spent nearly a month every year in Atlantic City, winter & summer, & stepping on the boardwalk at California Ave., looking north toward the great piers & The Traymore was always so awesome. I felt like other people feel when they go to a dark place & see the Milky Way. Next thing I'm back home sitting at the counter in Murray's drinking a cherry Coke & nobody understands that three or four times a year I'm having these religious experiences where I'm seeing disembodied psychic energy patterns left by Al Capone, Frank Sinatra, Dean & Jerry, & Freddie "Boom Boom" Cannon shouting "Wooo" as he flies by in front of Irene's Gift Shop.
Labels: about writing, Atlantic City, growing up
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Atlantic City NJ
Dennis Hotel, now part of Bally's.
Labels: Atlantic City, boardwalks, holidays, jersey shore, motel hotel, postcard
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Atlantic City NJ
The Steel Pier, March 1962
Labels: Atlantic City, boardwalks, jersey shore, photograph, postcard, weather
