63: Series: Part 1. Spinning At 45 rpm’s: Wake Up Little Susie
Brighton Beach Baths, Brooklyn, N.Y.
the poor man’s riviera; where I spent many summer days
New York City is surrounded by water; many people know it but few think about it. A friend who lives in the Midwest put it together one day and said, “Did you ever go to the beach?”
Did I ever go to the beach? Now that’s a loaded question. The beach. In New York the beach was the poor man’s Riviera. Coney Island. Brighton Beach. Manhattan Beach. Riis Park. Jones Beach. Far Rockaway. Fire Island. The Hamptons. Montauk. We are all beach. I didn’t get 2nd degree burns from sitting in front of a fan in the hottest months of the year. I didn’t get peeling skin that came off in joyful sheets, or huge blisters I loved to pop and squirt, from hiding from the sun in the ‘50’s and ‘60’s, no not I! I didn’t get precancerous skin conditions from frolicking in air conditioned department stores. I got all my peely, blistered skin from baking on the beach.
Did Neil Simon have Brighton Beach memories? Do I? You bet. And if you stay with me, you will be able to circuitously take a wild ride to the hardest journey of my life. But that comes later. Much later. For now it’s the LL train.
We lived in a middle class apartment complex called, “Stuyvesant Town,” on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. There were over 100 buildings with an average of 11 floors, 8 apartments on each floor. No one had air conditioning; there was no air conditioning, or wiring to supply it.
In the summer you sweated—it built character. Fans blew all over the place. The hassock fan in the living room pushed the hot air hither and yon, but I swear the room felt cooler—so it was 85° instead of 95°. My father would come home from his sweat box place of employment, strip down to his boxers, light up a cigar and park himself in front of the round floor fan that would suck the smoke and spin it like a broken ghost.
But that is not what this story is about. You have no idea where this train is taking you.
Both my parents were from Brooklyn, and their families stayed there while they became ex-patriots and moved to Manhattan. But in the summer we migrated back, back to the place of their roots, back to the Brooklyn beaches.
My mother would pack a vinyl cooler—red plaid, lined in yellow, rectangle, zipper all around, two black handles. I can only remember brisket of beef, and man, she made a mean “first cut” brisket, thin cut, braised in onions with carrots and potatoes. The leftovers would find themselves ensconced by seeded onion rolls or fresh crusty rye bread from the Town Rose Bakery on East 14th Street.
My parents would take me, and my sister, who was six years younger than I, every weekend to our summer getaway. Or that’s what it seemed, a weekly journey. These memories that I will share, place me at about age 11, a preteen who was getting curious.
We would walk several blocks to the subway, take the Canarsie Line to Union Square where we would change to the line that would take us to Brooklyn. It was a shlep. But it was a way of life and we went. At some point the train would climb from the tunnel and elevate above the streets and rock its way toward the ocean.
It was a stop past Coney Island, which was for the masses. We were a little higher in the pecking order. We didn’t go to Steeplechase, the carousel, the parachute ride, the side shows.
My parents had outgrown that.
aka “Little Susie,” as my mom would call me,
in THE blue “stroller”
Flashback…When I was about 3, I remember staying in a little beach front bungalow. It must have been my father’s vacation. I guess that’s what people did in those days. They “took a place.” The bungalows were probably built in the 20’s or 30’s, they were 1 room with cots and a little porch. The “bathroom” was a toilet screened off like a public restroom, in the the room. I remember layers of cracked, painted-over pink paint on that toilet’s encompassment.
And one night, I woke up and my parents were sitting outside on the porch. My mother’s legs were up on the rail and she was chewing bubble gum. Blowing bubbles. Popping them.
I had a little red metal sand sifter, and I sat on the beach and poured sand on my father’s hairy back as he slept.
I even remember the funny blue stroller my mother pushed me around in.
So now we were past the Coney slum. We made it to (fanfare) Brighton Beach, where there was a better class of beach folk, a calmer boardwalk, Yona Shimmel’s and Gabilla’s original knishes, Dr. Brown’s Cel-Ray Tonic and Brighton Beach Baths.
When we’d get to the bath house and came out of the heat and the brightness of the sun, we were temporarily blinded. There was a long, wide, uphill walk up on a cement floor, to the entrances of the men’s and ladies’ locker rooms. But when you first entered this area, the air was dank and cool, and to the left there was a small snack counter. A group of teens clustered, drinking sodas as the Everly Brothers’ new album was playing from a speaker.
“Wake Up, Little Susie.”
This was an omen. It was my name. It was my song. Phil and Don were singing to me.
And as the song ended and “Bye Bye Love,” came on, I knew there was something that was changing, arriving. Adolescence. Body changes. It was the first time I noticed that young men had hairy legs. Something stirred in my soon to be 12-year old brain. I stared intently at the teens sucking cold sodas from cans with straws. I observed them flirting, laughing, giggling, pushing, shuffling, bopping to the song. I could hear their bare feet against the concrete, feel the restlessness, see the small dance steps evolve. They were loud, they were brash, they were horny.
My senses were flooded by their secrets, by the smell of saltwater, Coke, and hormones.
>>>Part 2. Spinning at 45 rpm’s: Bye, Bye Love
Comments from Yahoo 360: (31 total)
- Astra…
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“Salt water; Coke; and hormones.” That’s a potent mix. Many a life has changed over less. I’m in….
Monday September 24, 2007 – 02:58pm (PDT)
I was too young to remember the hormones, but I sure liked the beach !!! The knishes were delish and I remember you wore a funky white sailor hat,LOL !!! You had big plastic sun glasses with bright red frames, LOL!! You forgot to mention the Good Humor Ice Cream guy who shlepped the ice cream on his shoulder in a cooler. Mine was an orange and vanilla humorette. You had to eat it fast before it melted in the hot sun, so the dixie cups were better for me. It was half vanilla and half chocolate. “ICE CREAM ! GET YOUR ICE CREAM!!!!” Remember when mom made us wear those dopey plastic shower hats she used as swimming caps ? Well, at least the beaches were clean in those days.
Monday September 24, 2007 – 06:13pm (EDT) Remove Comment
- Catta…
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I’m in for the ride 🙂
Monday September 24, 2007 – 03:37pm (MST) Remove Comment
- Sweet…
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Rushed right over..wouldn’t miss this ride for the world. So far…images of a very distant time and place..a time of many happy memories!
Monday September 24, 2007 – 06:40pm (EDT) Remove Comment
Wonderful and nostalgic journey back to the preteen age with all its innocence but fascinating and memorable awareness..it takes me back to some of my own foot prints to Coney Island almost twenty years before you arrived on the scene..it your sensitive memory of little details that trigger off nerves and responding “Oh Yeah”..looking forward to next chapter,~~Papa
Monday September 24, 2007 – 04:12pm (PDT) Remove Comment
- heidi b
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Oh how funny and cool and sad but wonderful to read a walk down memorie lane little Susie-the only thing that bothers me is the back ground music good but a little to funerully if you know what I mean.
Monday September 24, 2007 – 08:56pm (PDT) Remove Comment
You have a way with words. You paint a picture with your words! Looking forward to the journey.
Tuesday September 25, 2007 – 07:07am (EDT) Remove Comment
- Bill
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Very posh then? Your smoking cigars too. We had a rich aunt who had a bathroom but she didn’t speak with us. Nice happy childhood and the world-wide choice of Salt Beef for a picnic, not, India of course. Reminded me of an up-market Petticoat Lane in London. Makes me feel at home. Very nice but a lot of work here too.
Tuesday September 25, 2007 – 01:27pm (BST) Remove Comment
- *¸.•
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Wonderful childhood memories to treasure. Blessings, blessings everywhere…sometimes it takes nostalgia…the past…to put them into clear view. Excellent writing sans
Tuesday September 25, 2007 – 09:00am (EDT) Remove Comment
- Just …
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I have never had the pleasure of a trip up north until now. Thanks for taking me along
Tuesday September 25, 2007 – 03:42pm (CDT) Remove Comment
I’m so glad you woke up, Little Susie! Now you can tell us the rest of the story!
Tuesday September 25, 2007 – 05:14pm (CDT) Remove Comment
- Nicho…
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Lovely memoir! Look forward to reading more!
Wednesday September 26, 2007 – 11:47am (EST) Remove Comment
- DaniB…
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It seems intriguing, I want to go on reading…
Wednesday September 26, 2007 – 12:10pm (CEST) Remove Comment
- Rosie S
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I love it, can’t wait to read more…you’re too much, Bless You my friend..
Wednesday September 26, 2007 – 03:01pm (EDT) Remove Comment
- ::Rii::
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Hei Sue Brilliant writing and wonderfully written memories. Keep so well. Rii xx HUGZ Hag Sameach.
Wednesday September 26, 2007 – 10:13pm (CEST) Remove Comment
- Susan…
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Of course my song was Wake Up Little Susie when I was a kid too. Funny what happens when you are named Susan. I was a Riis Park person, when we lived in Jerseay we had friend who lived in Brooklyn, when we would visit them in the summer we always went to Riis Park. Then we spent two weeks in a cottage in The Hamptons back when the plain old Hamptons was where the poor people went. It was on the bay side, not the ocean side but for a 12 year old it was heaven. Loved your story, sure brought back memories.
Wednesday September 26, 2007 – 01:44pm (MST) Remove Comment
- Frida…
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The beach! Life can be so different here and there. Ha! I love the way you tell your tales (even if real. Just like the way that sounds)! 🙂
Wednesday September 26, 2007 – 07:34pm (CDT) Remove Comment
- heath…
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How strange some words conjure up immediate memories. “brisket of beef”..My Mother used to cook this. I remember it well. It was our alternate Sunday dinner.I have never thought about it since her passing..
Thursday September 27, 2007 – 03:04pm (EST) Remove Comment
this is a cute song. and what a cute bubby you were
Thursday September 27, 2007 – 04:10pm (EST) Remove Comment
Well little Susie, it’s pretty obvious you were adorable as a baby. What a darling picture!!! I love your description, and you have such vivid memories from your childhood. I read once that is the case when it has been a happy one. I love the image of your mother with her feet up on the rail, chewing bubble gum. Thanks for sharing this with us. I’m onward and upward to the next one — sorry I’ve been behind. Hugs!
Thursday September 27, 2007 – 10:52pm (EDT) Remove Comment
- AB
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How strange now it looks the strolley nowadays. The picture it’s lovely and appropriate for these memoirs. It recall of past with black and white TV. :0) I think it’s hard to think now airconditioning for an American right now, isn’t it? You reminded me when we were young and my parents felt as a duty to take us to the Castelporziano beach. it was as masses place. WE went there cluttered in an old 600 Fiat: my parents, my brother and I, two cousins, and with us the portable fridge. :0)))))))
Friday September 28, 2007 – 06:45pm (CEST) Remove Comment
Funny how someone else’s nostalgia can stir up one’s own long forgotten memories…I think it was the “salt water, Coke, and hormones” thing that did it…Great job Sue, can’t wait to read more…Oh I loved the part about your Mother’s brisket, I could almost taste it, on a warm onion or kaiser roll…yummmo…lol Thank You for letting me stroll down your memory lane for just a minute…you write well…
Saturday September 29, 2007 – 08:56am (CDT) Remove Comment
- Agnes
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That’s funny, all of a sudden I’m back to Oleron island, the cool tiles under my feet, the smell of sea still in my nose, my hair curly and sticky with salted water… The walls were blue, I can even smell the sun roasted pine trees. Thank you for your nice memories, bringing back mines.
Saturday September 29, 2007 – 08:12am (PDT) Remove Comment
- MANUE…
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I’ve never been to New York or any of the 5 states that surrond it!! but I’ve been in europe an Asia,an in between,Thanks for the Memoreis!!
Sunday September 30, 2007 – 10:43am (PDT) Remove Comment
- Jacqu…
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I have a picture of me at that age. Stroller looks the same. My beach was on the Mediterranean because Dad was in Rome when I was little. Nobody wrote songs about me. Isn’t it amazing what one can remember from those times?
Sunday September 30, 2007 – 08:24pm (MDT) Remove Comment
- LadyE…
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I want to keep reading. You have an excellent memory.
Monday October 1, 2007 – 10:50pm (KST) Remove Comment
- pet
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I can hear a drum roll … that must be the sound of waves, actually … and there is so much more to come, isn’t there. ((hugs))
Monday October 1, 2007 – 04:07pm (ADT) Remove Comment
- Trees…
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.. OK.. as promised… I’ve started….
Thursday October 4, 2007 – 12:06am (BST) Remove Comment
- Haden…
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Love it!!!!
Friday October 5, 2007 – 10:27pm (VUT) Remove Comment
- Poetr…
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Wonderful post…can’t wait to see more…
Friday October 5, 2007 – 08:58am (EDT) Remove Comment
- Lex
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It’s your childhood life. But it sounds so familiar. I think I’ve watched too many old movies. You have a good life there. And I’m feeling like I’m reading a book. I’ll go and see for the next chapter. Have a fun weekend there. (^O^)v
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billatplay wrote on Oct 1, ’08
Blimey, you looked formidable age 3. lol
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billatplay wrote on Oct 1, ’08
Ah! the Twist. The days when we had a waist to twist with.
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sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 1, ’08
locarb said
Yhank you, Ken, and thanks for coming on the ride.
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You write with extraordinary skill. I think I momentarily moved backwards in time and thousands of miles away. 
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philsgal7759 wrote on Oct 1, ’08
I am again impressedc with your ability to draw us into your story and help us feel as though we too were there.
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You tell your story so engagingly. Now I’ma hafta come back everyday to see what you add to it. My mom lives in Harlem in the Riverton Houses, which are the equivalent of Stuyvesant Township, where you grew up.
Ok, here I go with the food (train of thought) again. I love Gabila’s knishes. I remember drinking soda with paper straws. We also used to have Hammer deliver seltzer and soda pop to our house every week. It’s no wonder I’m a diabetic. I grew up in the South Bronx, and my summertime stomping grounds were Randalls Island, Pelham Bay Park, Rye Playland and Palisades Amusement Park. When I was very little, we sunbathed at “tar beach USA” (rooftops of tenement buildings) and played on fire escapes. How dangerous was that? Going to Brooklyn was like a day’s journey, and I don’t remember if my mom ever brought me to Coney Island. She probably did, because we were always on the go. I went to Coney Island a few times as an adult, and to Jones Beach as well. Of course, I practically lived at Central Park. Thanks for taking me back down my memory lane through your memories of being a city kid. |
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sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 1, ’08
hadeev said
Evelyn, you take me back, too. I know the Bronx well, lived there for a while, in the late 60’s early 70’s. Hang on while I get the next post ready.
Stuyvesant Town is the focal point of many of my poems–I am getting a book together and there will be a whole section on growing up there. |
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lauritasita wrote on Oct 1, ’08
I have no recollection of getting on the train, but I do remember the beach. If you were 11, that means I was only 5. I love how you throw in all those details about back then; the Town Rose Bakery (where I would taste all the cakes in the window when they weren’t looking), the ocean, and the ice cream that was sold on the beach. The sand was so hot, you could hardly walk on it, but the beaches were clean. I will have to go back to visit Stuyvesant Town someday.
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forgetmenot525 wrote on Oct 2, ’08
not only did we share look alike parties, seems we shared look alike strollers too, AND look alike hand knitted (by a grandmother??) cardigans and woolly mitts……………I feel as if I’ve been there too, your descriptions are so familiar.
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lunarechoes wrote on Oct 2, ’08
I love your writing–brilliant!
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midwestchick wrote on Oct 2, ’08
even though i know this is your life story…you write it with such style and detail…i feel like i was there with you. moving to part two…
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sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 3, ’08
midwestchick said
Thank you for coming over; I hope you continue to read and I hope you benefit from my story. Please feel free to link to my (index) blog. I had an unusual situation that all women could learn from. Much appreciation! xo
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sweetpotatoqueen wrote on Oct 8, ’08
Well, what a darling young Sans Souci! Don’t ya wish we could cling to those simpler times when life was a safer place for us?
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sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 8, ’08
sweetpotatoqueen said
Definitely! Mom used to call me “little Susie.” Was it ever a safer place. Now I worry my guts out about her, age 90 and living alone farrrrrrr away!
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danceinsilence wrote on Oct 11, ’08, edited on Oct 11, ’08
I remember the piece you wrote several months back on Stuyvesant Town. Much of what is here, wasn’t in that one.
1957 was an interesting year. The Everly Brothers appear on the Ed Sullivan Show to premiere their song, “Wake Up, Little Susie” Best Picture in 1957: Bridge on the River Kwai 1957 Headlines Seventeen people die as flash flood hits St. Louis… Senator Joseph McCarthy dies… John F. Kennedy wins the Pulitzer Prize for his book “Profiles in Courage”… Alan freed hosts the first prime time Rock n’Roll Show… Sports Sam Hanks wins the Indy 500 averaging 128.5 MPh… Giants move to California… Iron Leige wins the Kentucky Derby… Lions defeat the Chicago Bears for Pro Football Title… Milwaukee beats The Yankees to win the World Series, 4 games to 3… Prices back then: Gal. of Milk….$1.00 Loaf of bread…19 cents New Car… $2100.00 Gal. of Gas..24 cents New home …$20,000.00 Birthdays: Geena Davis, LeVar Burton,Vanna White,Spike Lee, Daniel Day-Lewis, Melanie Griffith, Gloria Estefan, Rachel Ward, Caroline Kennedy, Lyle Lovett, Donny Osmond. But in your 1957, Wake Up Little Susie was all that mattered then … that and your curiosity. What was to follow in later years never entered the “Susie” then, and why would it have. Your senses were flooded by their secrets (the other kids), by the smell of saltwater, Coke, and hormones. Tis a good beginning. |
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sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 11, ’08
danceinsilence said
Thank you for this brilliant and fascinating comment, dear Bill!
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Comments
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