So this was the plan -- my nephew Kris and his girlfriend, Mirjam (pronounced Miriam) would come to Brooklyn early Sunday. The four of us would bike through Brooklyn to Coney Island, enjoy some hot dogs at Nathan's, visit the old Weinstein homesteads and then head north and home again.
Print out some of these for FREE Nathan's hot dogs! (Click the image).
We had three bikes but needed a fourth. This was graciously supplied by our upstairs neighbor, Paul and we were off.
Starting off from Underhill Avenue.
Our new house is about seven miles from the shore (and from our old house). Brooklyn offers the cyclist some car-free biking. When that's not available, one can use smaller streets to avoid the traffic on the main arteries. We biked the three blocks and entered her majesty, Prospect Park, and joined other Sunday cyclists and runners, as we pedaled south on the park's main drive. We might have well been biking on some pristine country road - the air was so fresh, the trees abundant and cars with their attendant noise, absent.
Cruising through the coolth of Prospect Park.
We exited the Park at Park Circle (which is the terminus of Coney Island Avenue) and rode over to Ocean Parkway on whose bike path we would pedal to Coney Island. But first, we made a small detour to Stacey's birthplace - her family's apartment at 415 Albemarle Road. A group of people were standing out front. I asked if any of them lived there and we were introduced to an older woman. She turned out to be Tess the mother of girlhood friends of Stacey's. What a great surprise as they reminisced about the old days.
Near Stacey's old neighborhood - Ocean Parkway and Albemarle Road.
We rolled along Brooklyn's beautiful Ocean Parkway, planned by the same brilliant architechts who designed and built Central and Prospect Parks as well as Eastern Parkway in Brooklyn. I rode with Kris while Stacey and Mirjam (riding my Dahon folding bike) rode behind and chatted. It was a leisurely pace but before long we had arrived in Coney Island for lunch at Nathan's Famous.
Hot dogs, french fries and a cold soda....yum.
Nathan's, established by Nathan Handwerker, a Jewish immigrant, in 1916, is a Brooklyn landmark. When I was a kid, the crowds would extend the lenghth of the counter, 10 or 20 deep. One would elbow their way to the counter and the more aggressive you were, the sooner you'd be served. The server would hold his long stainless-steel tongs in one hand. With the other, he'd work the old NCR cash register. With incredible speed and skill he'd scoop the frankfort from the grill that had been darkened and burnished from the millions of hot dogs that had been cooked on its surface, insert it into a bun, place as many as you had ordered on a white paper plate, collect your money, give you your change and yell out, "Next!"
Like 42nd Street, Nathan's has been sanitized by the multi-national that owns it today: The giant crowds are gone as Coney Island doesn't attract the millions that it used to. People queue up in orderly, straight lines where they are greeted by a cashier operating a computerized register. The same person then leaves you standing there as he assembles your order. Hot dogs are inserted into yellow and orange Nathan's boxes - cardboard coffins. You can get them with mustard and/or ketchup (yecch) and can add sauerkraut or onions - condiments that were never served in the old days. Nathan's opened in 1916 charging five cents for a hot dog. I think I remember 35¢ (or was that a subway ride?) Today, one of Nathan's Famous will set you back $2.50! (Good thing I had those coupons). One good thing, however - the hot dog and fries tasted every bit as good as they always have.
Nathan's - ain't what it used to be .... crowd or price-wise.
The beautiful old neon sign has been there since I was a kid.
After lunch we rode over to the Boardwalk and walked a few blocks to take in the buzz and excitement of the summer crowds coming to and from the beach.
L to R: The parachute jump, Mirjam and Stacey.
Crowds on the Boardwalk - the giant Wonder Wheel with its swinging cars -- still there after all these years.
We left the Boardwalk and Coney Island and rode over to Brighton Beach - Kris wanted to see the Kaplan home on Brighton 4th Street. My grandparents, Lillian and Sol, my mother's parents, lived at 2956 Brighton 4th Street, a tiny bungalow that still stands there behind a giant London Plane tree that has lifted the sidewalk with its ancient roots. When my mom and dad married they moved into the cramped quarters until they were able to find a place to live on West End Avenue in Manhattan Beach. My Uncle Morris, Laura's brother, was living there as well.
Kris at the Kaplan mansion.
Next we rode to Manhattan Beach to see what had become of our house and my parent's house. We sold ours in October, 2004. My parents' house had been sold earlier in April. We knew that they had not yet been demolished and replaced with so-called McMansions as is the trend in the neighborhood. Our house has been rented out to tenants for the time being until the new owner is able to dispose of her condo in neighboring Brighton Beach. But it looked shabby and unloved. Money is not being expended to maintain what will eventually be destroyed or renovated when the owner and her family are ready to move in.
As for my parent's house - it looked abandoned and overgrown. Rumor has it that the community group got wind of plans to build a gargantuan building in excess of the zoning regulations and has acted to stop it. It's a year and a half and it sits there, waiting.
The old Weinstein homestead on West End Avenue - waiting for its eventual demise.
We biked home putting some energy into our pedaling, this time on East 13th Street which runs, uninterrupted, right to Prospect Park. It was late and the four of us were doing theater tonight. It had been a long, but wonderful day, showing Mirjam our beautiful city , exploring roots for Kris and taking some exercise on a lovely summer day in Brooklyn.
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