Life and History on the Long Island Sound

I've just returned from a week's vacation in the Bronx or as my friends informed me, "da Bronx" which is the proper, local way to refer to the Bronx. We don't refer to Paris as "the Paris" or Atlanta as "the Atlanta", so I was curious as to why "the" is used when referring to the borough of the Bronx. My hosts for my fabulous vacation, Liz and Ron, both born and raised in the Bronx, told me why and here is Cecil Adams's answer from his website called The Straight Dope:

The name of the wealthy family was Bronck (sometimes spelled Bronk). The clan's patriarch, Jonas, settled on 500 acres north of the Harlem River in 1639 and promptly affixed his surname to various features of the local geography, notably the Bronx River.

As one of his descendants explained, "The termination of `x' merely indicates the possessive case. Instead of writing Bronk's River or Bronk's farm, the Dutch took the phonetic short cut and made `x' do duty for the fusion of `k' and `s'; extremely simple, and a space saver too. Thus, when Jonas impressed his own family nomenclature on the region he settled, the Aquahung River became Bronk's River — the Bronx, as it remains today, correctly expressed in Dutch."

As far as Cecil can tell, the name "the Bronx" didn't signify the entire area now known as the Bronx until late in the 19th century.

In 1874 about 20 square miles of mainland Westchester county was annexed to New York City. This region was known thereafter as the Annexed District of the Bronx, in apparent reference to the Bronx River, then the district's eastern border.

In 1898 the Annexed District became part of the Borough of the Bronx — presumably still referring to the river. After a while, however, people forgot about the river and began casually referring to the entire borough as "the Bronx." The use of "the," in other words, is simply a historical accident."

www.straightdope.com

So there you have it. Before my trip to the Bronx, all I knew about the Bronx was what I'd seen in old black and white photographs of tenement buildings, Art Deco-style apartment buildings, corner stores, fire escape ladders, and front stoops that doubled as front porches for the residents. I'd seen photographs of kids enjoying gushing water from open fire hydrants on hot summer days and as a kid I thought that was awesome, certainly better than our measly water sprinkler in the front yard. The children's faces radiated pure joy and looked to be of diverse racial groups, all playing together. I always thought how beautiful that was knowing that the residents were probably of German, Dutch, Italian, Irish, African American, Jewish, Puerto Rican and Polish decent to name a few.

So when my friends drove me to their home, I half-expected us to pull up to a gorgeous Art Deco apartment building in the city. Not so! We pulled up to a pretty red brick house with a front yard, complete with a flag pole flying the United States flag and the Marine Corps flag which didn't surprise me as my friend is a proud Marine Corps veteran. Wait a minute, where we were exactly? In Throg's Neck, NY in the borough of the Bronx to be exact. Throgg's Neck to the locals and don't ask me why they add the extra "g" because I don't know. Some things are what they are and you just accept it.

After I'd unpacked, we walked half a block, passing what used to be private summer cottages where people now live year-round. We made a left at the corner and I saw the water down at the end of the street. I needed a map to get my bearings! Ah ha...now it made sense. The Long Island Sound. Moments later, we reached their waterfront beach club. Beautiful and not what I expected. Waterfront communities and several member-only beach clubs, who knew this little gem existed? I certainly didn't and was pleasantly surprised.

My friends have owned a boat as long as I could remember and I was happy to hear that they still had it. I should have known that they would have retired by the water. I found out that their beach club, the Manhem Club, had been part of their lives since they were young. The original members had been of Scandinavian or Nordic decent and it was evident when I was introduced to some of the members--lots of blondes with light eyes with names like Sven, Carl and Lars. My friend's mother was of Swedish origin and is now the President of Manhem Club, his wife, the First Lady of Manhem Club, is of Puerto Rican decent. I've always had a love of genealogy and history, so I found all this fascinating and couldn't wait to do a little research on the great borough of the Bronx when I got home.

My friends and the members work hard for their Club, hosting events throughout the year, but their busy season is obviously summer. Hurricane Sandy had destroyed many of the club's piers and my friend's also lost their locker building. They rebuilt in two months just in time for the Interclub Races between the different clubs. I joined in the fun and in the spirit of volunteerism, I learned to paint signs, tend bar, and make Jello Shots and Malibu Sea Breeze drinks. I had a blast. I wondered how I could become an honorary member of Manhem Club and pondered taking a bar tending course for extra money!

To become a full-fledged member of Manhem Club, one must have a Scandinavian bloodline in the family of which I have not a drop of. Seasonal members are voted in by the board which is how I also met people with names like Maria, Giovanna, Eleanor, Joe Pizza and Tommy Mustache, no lie. I spoke to people whose parents were original members. They'd been coming to Manhem Club since they were born and now, their children are enjoying the summers like they did when they were young--I found that interesting and quite unique.

Also unique and interesting to this Puerto Rican-born Army brat was the Bronx accent I heard everywhere I went. I was told that I sounded like a Southerner which I found funny. I've never heard that, but compared to the Bronx accent, I guess I did!

I'm returning to New York in early October for the Second Annual Comadre and Compadre Writers Conference in Brooklyn, just in time for Manhem Club's Members Dinner Dance. How fun is that?

Peace and love from West Virginia.

Ellie

Happy Birthday, America!

The United States of America is 235 years old today--Happy Birthday, America! The finale tonight in Washington, DC is to include 3,000 fireworks in 17 minutes!

When I was young, I couldn't wait for the sun to go down on the Fourth of July. My mom would pack us up and walk us to the nearest park no matter where we lived. I remember walking too fast for my mother's comfort and her fear that my sister and I would get lost in the heavy crowds. Every boom and grouping of shooting stars illuminating the dark skies made my pulse race and every combination was better than the last one. My sister and I would yell out our favorites as the lights above us shimmered and shone on practically every surface around us, to include my eyeglasses. And then, the much-anticipated finale! It doesn't get much better than that.

In my 20's, I worked at the Pentagon and enjoyed the concerts and shenanigans near the Washington Monument with friends and my younger sister. Early on the 4th, we'd staked our claim to a little plot of land on the National Mall with a blanket and a cooler full of alcoholic drinks (those days are over!), listening to band after band and getting way too much sun. The finale in Washington, DC was always spectacular and the party afterward was always fun. I have great memories of meeting wonderful people from all over the United States and abroad.

As a young mother living in the Washington DC area, I did the same thing with my kids--I packed up the car and off we went. Some years, we watched firework displays locally and other times, we headed to the Mall in front of the Washington Monument. One year, we sat beneath the Iwo Jima Memorial along the Potomac River. We never missed the displays until we moved to Europe as a young military family in 1993. While living in Europe, we enjoyed annual 4th of July American community picnics, but there were no fireworks in Vienna, Austria nor Brussels, Belgium as there were no US bases near us. We ended up living in Belgium and France for 13 years and I missed those firework displays.

When my kids left for college in the US, I returned to the States as a newly-separated woman. I rented a house on a hill in Frederick, MD where my kids and I watched the fireworks from lawn chairs on our front yard. We watched them together for a couple of years while they were in college until they graduated and moved out on their own. Soon, they had their own friends to watch the fireworks with and I made new friends and reconnected with old friends.

As a single mother of adult children not living at home (shouldn't that be--SMACNLAH?), I've joined new and old friends at firework displays on the shores of Lake Anna in southern Virginia, along the Potomac River in West Virginia, and on a beautiful sailboat in Plymouth Harbor in Massachusetts which was awesome! One year, I was headed to dinner with my kids in Washington, DC a few days before the 4th and I saw fireworks from Memorial Bridge. I stopped my car and thoroughly enjoyed the spectacular display by myself. Last year, friends and I watched the fireworks from our river place. I was impressed by our river community, they put on a super display.

Tonight, I have no plans. For the first time, I have no plans to watch the fireworks of the Fourth of July. My city isn't hosting fireworks because of a shooting last year involving a child. I'm a bit afraid of joining the huge crowds in Washington, DC in light of the massacre at the Boston Marathon and boy, does the unrest in Egypt and Syria worry me. We're living in a different world today.

There will be no coolers or backpacks allowed in firework locations in Washington, DC and everyone will be searched. It saddens me that we've lost a bit of innocence, but all the precautions are necessary. How safe can we really be in public places? Very, very safe, I hope and pray. I pray for my children, family and friends wherever they are tonight. But, we can't allow fear to grip us and cause us to stay hunkered down. That's not who we are.

So maybe I'll call my friend and take a little ride tonight. She grew up in my adopted city and I bet she knows all the best places to view fireworks. It's just not the same watching the fireworks on TV :)

Peace, love and safety to you and yours.
Ellie

Clearly Not the Vienna I Knew!

I visited my BFF in Vienna, Austria for two weeks this past April. The trip was my first time back to Europe in five years and the first time in Vienna since my children were three and one years old. Nearly 26 years had passed and I didn't always have great memories of that time in my life.

I was a young American mother of two toddlers and Vienna was a very proper city with very proper Viennese people. It was a grown up city with old world charm where people dressed well even when they went to the market which used to be two times a day. Elderly ladies I didn't know often chastised me on the trams and buses in German for not dressing my children properly in summer, in the rain or for not putting hats on my children in the fall. I was learning German at the time, but it didn't matter--I knew I was being chastised!

Vienna hadn't been my favorite posting as a young Army wife. We were the first American Army family to live in the city,so we broke ground in many ways. Life was tough. We had one car which my husband took to work every day which left me with public transportation. Not an easy feat with a bulky stroller and two toddlers. My husband, two children and I lived in Vienna for three years and my mother's three month-long visits during that time kept me sane :) Life became easier during our third year as the children were older and when I could defend myself in German against the 'old lady brigade' on the trams. You'd best believe I learned to listen for the weather before leaving our house and dressed my children accordingly! Ha!

The historic city center of Vienna was the same as I'd remembered with the grand palaces, many Gothic and Baroque cathedrals and churches, and old world cafes. That hadn't changed a bit. Vienna is a beautiful, fascinating and clean city, no doubt about that. But as K and I descended the stairs to take the boat tour of the city, I was blown away by the fantastic street art I saw along both sides of the Danube River that runs through the city. What an unexpected surprise! I looked around half-expecting the graffiti police to run down with white wash in hand! There were some pieces that were clearly political and I'm sure they ruffle some city feathers, but for the most part, the graffiti was pleasing to the my artist's eye.

The Vienna I knew 26 years ago was not a city that would have smiled on or tolerated graffiti. I was almost giddy when K went to the ticket booth to buy our cruise tickets, I took a dozen photographs with a huge smile on my face. As an artist, I have a great appreciation for any form of artistic expression, but this took the cake! How had this freedom of expression happened and was it really tolerated?

I don't know when street art became accepted in Vienna, but it was great to see that the prim and proper city I remembered had relaxed. I love when modern and old come together. The past and the present. The result is often vibrant, alive and beautiful. The Viennese have always had a love and appreciation for art, music and culture as do I, but seeing this young form of expression really made me happy for a different reason--the city seemed to have evolved and changed with the times. Had the city embraced street art or had they tired of painting over it, I wondered!

Before the boat tour left the city area for the pastoral part of the cruise, K and I saw throngs of young people sunbathing along the river and enjoying the open air cafes. Young people everywhere waved at us as our boat passed by. I loved seeing the young clearly enjoying themselves among the graffiti--their personal art gallery. I had to chuckle. Had the Viennese powers that be, given the young Viennese their own area along the river? Had the agreement been to keep street art out of the city center and the communes of Vienna in exchange for the river area? Well, it worked for me and apparently, street art in Vienna is alive and well! I loved it and the rebel side of me cheered them on ;)

The weather was glorious that day. K and I had a great time sipping white wine spritzers along the Danube and taking photographs, but was it the best cruise we'd ever been on? Not really, but the street art made it special for me and spending time with K in her newly adopted city was awesome. Kudos to all the artists!

Peace and love,

Ellie