The Bronx
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The Long Walk Home
True Story. It was our parents’ rule: don’t run after fire trucks. “You could fall behind them and get hurt,” they warned. But when you’re ten years old and live in a six-story, cold, brown-brick apartment building in the South… Continue reading
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Da Bronx: The Nostalgia of Memory
This past summer, I spent seven days in Da Bronx, where I was born. These are the memories the visit revealed. The little red car I received on my fifth birthday —the first memory my brain will acknowledge. 314 East… Continue reading
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The Art of the Bronx
My world at fifteen was a mix of innocence and naiveté, threatened at times by what seemed like the start of a world gone mad. It was 1964, and I was living in the John Adams Houses in the South… Continue reading
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The Long Walk Home
The following is a rewrite of a previously written poem for a Creative Nonfiction class. Unlike the fiction of the poem, the following is true. It was our parents’ rule: don’t run after fire trucks. “You could fall behind them… Continue reading
