I was born in the Barnet Hospital in 1935. I have many fond memories connected with my having spent the early years of my life in the area near East Side Park.
Recently, on my 70th birthday, I decided to return to the old neighborhood. I had not seen the place for over 20 years. I was pleased to find that nothing had changed. The big yellow house where I grew up on East 39th Street still looks beautiful. People’s lawns are still beautifully maintained, my neighbor’s houses are equally spiffy and the flowers in the month of June are even more beautiful than I remembered. When I say that nothing has changed, I really mean nothing…except for the color of the people’s skin, who now live in the area.
I then biked through the rest of the city, and there too, found that Paterson seemed to be fixed in time. The public buildings are as impressive as they were. Of course, the Fabian theatre and the Alexander Hamilton hotel next door are in a very sorry state. But, hopefully, their facades will be upgraded in connection with their being recycled by new people with different purposes in mind. To me, it is as if the whole city has, for that matter, been continually recycled. Paterson is like an old Italian hill town which having passed its prime, still serves sufficient needs of those who inhabit it to have escaped being changed or destoyed. The discerning visitor will discover the most quintessential mill town in all of America
I was born in the Barnet Hospital in 1935. I have many fond memories connected with my having spent the early years of my life in the area near East Side Park.
Recently, on my 70th birthday, I decided to return to the old neighborhood. I had not seen the place for over 20 years. I was pleased to find that nothing had changed. The big yellow house where I grew up on East 39th Street still looks beautiful. People’s lawns are still beautifully maintained, my neighbor’s houses are equally spiffy and the flowers in the month of June are even more beautiful than I remembered. When I say that nothing has changed, I really mean nothing…except for the color of the people’s skin, who now live in the area.
I then biked through the rest of the city, and there too, found that Paterson seemed to be fixed in time. The public buildings are as impressive as they were. Of course, the Fabian theatre and the Alexander Hamilton hotel next door are in a very sorry state. But, hopefully, their facades will be upgraded in connection with their being recycled by new people with different purposes in mind. To me, it is as if the whole city has, for that matter, been continually recycled. Paterson is like an old Italian hill town which having passed its prime, still serves sufficient needs of those who inhabit it to have escaped being changed or destoyed. The discerning visitor will discover the most quintessential mill town in all of America