1986 – Transitions and East 35^th Street

In January, the world of music entertainment saw some excitement though as a five-year old I was not aware. The first group of musicians were inducted into the new Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, including Chuck Berry, Elvis Presley, Fats Domino, Buddy Holly, and Little Richard among other pioneering rock and rollers. A few days later Diana Ross hosted the 13^th Annual American Music Awards in LA. Winners included Tina Turner, Stevie Wonder, The Pointer Sisters, Willie Nelson, and Crystal Gayle. Michael Jackson, Paul McCartney, and “We Are the World” were also points of focus. I was much more interested in the likes of He-Man and Thundercats however.

We were living in an age of space exploration. In mid-January the space shuttle Columbia completed its seventh mission. On Tuesday January 28^th the legendary Challenger[1] space mission ended in disaster just over a minute after launch as the shuttle disintegrated killing the crew including noteworthy schoolteacher Christa McAuliffe. I was in kindergarten class on the day of the celebrated and televised Challenger liftoff. Once the disaster happened, teachers turned off the TV in a frenzied scramble and tried to somehow resume a normal day afterwards. A similar scenario must have played out in schools across America that day as this traumatizing and tragic event had unfolded on live TV. The Voyager 2 probe had just come into close proximity with Uranus making discoveries. And in early February, Halley’s Comet reached its closest approach to the sun. Yet, with the nation mourning the Challenger, we understood that while space exploration was amazing, it was not necessarily safe.

It was a time of growing social awareness. The USA had just observed the first federal holiday for Martin Luther King Jr. Day which celebrated a black American leader. Like any typical kid that I knew, I loved watching TV and enjoyed spending any given evening with the best shows on offer. Friday nights were particularly something to look forward to. On ABC’s two-hour primetime block was Webster, Mr. Belvedere, and Diff’rent Strokes. Webster was a fun and sometimes serious show involving a little kid (like me!) in a mixed-race adoptive family. Diff’rent Strokes was also a similar show involving a mixed-race adoptive family consisting of a young kid, two older siblings, an older father-figure and a charismatic housekeeper living in a fancy apartment building. Mr. Belvedere was an enjoyable romp involving a cultured English butler living with and bringing some order to an American family living in Pittsburgh, PA. These shows opened my eyes to the complexity and variety of different ways people grew up and lived together. I would sometimes lay with Mom in her room and watch TV before bed. One time Dad came home in the middle of the night with his finger all bandaged up. He had been to the hospital because he cut himself badly on one of those sharp machine blades at work. Fortunately, he managed to have his finger re-attached. Wow, that’s scary!

On the TV at Nana’s house when Bampa watched the news that February we would have heard about Pope John Paul II’s visit to India and his meetings with the Dalai Lama, and Mother Theresa. As well as Reagan, family values, AIDS patient Ryan White (who returned to middle school), and the US Senate beginning to allow debates to be televised.

I couldn’t believe it. My brother’s first birthday had arrived! He was turning one. I guess that means he’s not a baby anymore? There was a small family gathering at our home at 2326 East 19^th Street. Billy sat in his highchair in the corner of our simple dining room. He played with a yellow toy in his mouth and wore a red one piece with long white sleeves beneath. I stood next to him, my strawberry-blonde bangs falling to mid-forehead, wearing a gray sweater with dark blue shoulders. Absentmindedly, I played with my brother’s right ear while staring into space. He didn’t seem to mind. There was a large cake on the round dining room table. Upon it was a big “1” candle and written the words “Happy Birthday William”. Dad sat at the table in his blue-collar shirt with a cup of tea. He liked his tea extra strong using two Lipton tea bags plus milk and sugar. He preferred tea over coffee although he would have coffee sometimes.

One typical weekday Mom took us to Nana’s after school. I wore my St. Mark School gray and white uniform. I was standing by the kitchen table about to sit in one of the tall brown chairs. 

Nana said, “Yohn[2] Henry, stand still and let me take a picture of you.” 

With hands on hips, I offered a pose with a lippy smile. One-year old Billy was nearby in his carriage in a calm mood while Mom sat at the table in a long blue sleeve shirt about to smoke a cigarette. Nana’s kitchen countertop was marble with pumpkin-colored drawers beneath. Above the counter there was a metal wire she could pull to open a fan to the alleyway when the kitchen got too smoky during cooking. I loved that and wanted to pull it whenever possible, but wasn’t really allowed to. On the kitchen door, Nana displayed my various drawings and artwork. If ever someone needed a rubber band, I knew exactly where to find one. The knob of the kitchen door was chock full of them.

Nana’s house was semi-attached. Along the attached wall of the kitchen was a cadenza of sorts with a display closet on top which featured various glass pieces and knick-knacks of animals and such. One might also find books, boxes, someone’s jacket and maybe unseasonal candy canes or Christmas cards. Next to this cadenza was a small black and white TV set which played the evening news during dinnertime and various other programs at other times.

During the 12^th People’s Choice Awards on March 13^th, some of the celebrities being talked about were Bill Cosby, Bruce Springsteen, Madonna, and Meryl Streep among others. That same day Microsoft Corporation made its initial public offering. Towards the end of the month, the record label Geffen took a chance and signed a band of wild guys who were making a real splash in LA and beyond, called Guns ‘n’ Roses.

Baseball was important to Dad. Ever since I was old enough to confidently walk, he would take me to nearby parks or schoolyards to practice catching and hitting. He signed me up for the Saint Mark Tee-ball team which practiced in their gym and schoolyard and allowed us very young players to hit the ball off a tee as well as to learn the basics of catching, running, and throwing. After practice we may have just as likely gone to Nana’s house as home. One spring day I arrived at Nana’s wearing my maroon Saint Mark T-shirt and foam-net baseball cap which was black with emblazoned gold-orange letters “STM” (for St. Marks). I waltzed into Nana’s living room with my baseball glove and ball ready for action, but as Nana’s and Bampa’s Norwegian background involved no such sport, neither of them could really offer any more support to my baseball activities other than an encouraging, “Very good Yohn Henry!”

So, I went out into the backyard to somehow practice my new baseball skills in the patch of bright green grass, but in the limited space and without a playmate there wasn’t much I could do besides swing the bat and throw the ball up in the air and catch it in my glove. Mom sat nearby keeping an eye on things. In her short-cropped brown hair and blue blouse she attempted to relax with a cup of coffee. She reached into her pocketbook to pull out her Newport Lights 100s and lit a cigarette. There was a low portable fence separating the grassy back area and the cemented front area of the yard to limit where little Billy and young Aragorn could go. Mom would remind me, “Careful with that ball John Henry! You can’t hit it back here you know.”

The raspberry bush in the back of the yard had grown as tall as me and was getting ready for another fruit bearing season. Some of my toys, like plastic swords and action figures, were scattered here and there. As I practiced my baseball moves, I also had to avoid the curved, wooden, red picnic bench as well as the rusty metal pole and arms from which dangled a clothesline web and a hanging bag of wooden clothespins. Oh well, I can’t do much baseball playing, but at least school and practice are over. That April pitcher Roger Clemens set the record for the most strikeouts in a nine-inning Major League Baseball game, striking out 20 batters.

The morning of Sunday April 20^th was bright, sunny, and slightly chilly. We attended the celebratory Easter Mass at Saint Thomas Aquinas church. It felt like an important and fundamental part of enjoying the holiday properly. We posed for a photo along the side of the church building by the grass. Dad and I held hands, Mom held Billy, and buddy Donny stood with us. Dressed in our Sunday best, we all seem to be in good spirits (maybe because Mass was over!). Afterwards there was a gathering at Nana’s house. I smilingly charmed a few ladies with my suit and hat amidst busying myself with the chief occupation of a child after church on Easter, consuming the array of colorful and tasty holiday candies. There were jellybeans, chocolate bunnies, and Cadbury Creme Eggs, amongst other delights.

Outside of my reality bubble, elsewhere in the world things were not as lighthearted. The world’s worst nuclear disaster up until that point happened on April 26^th in the Ukraine when the Chernobyl nuclear power plant exploded. The Soviets soon ordered evacuations of the vicinity and naturally word of the disaster spread across the globe like wildfire. Speaking of fire, 800,000 books were destroyed by a fire in Los Angeles Central Library on April 29^th.

That spring as Halley’s Comet reached its closest proximity to Earth during its second 20^th century visit to our solar system, I also came into close proximity with something mysterious and special myself. One day while we were visiting the Galligan house on East 34^th Street between Avenues S and Fillmore, it came to my attention that there was a video game system in an entertainment unit cabinet by the living room TV. But this was not the Atari I had occasionally experienced in the previous few years. This was something on a whole new level called Nintendo. I did not have a chance to try it nor even see it being played that day, but my curiosity was piqued. Boy, I want to try that out!

As spring deepened into May the flowers were abloom, trees becoming beautifully green, and adverts appeared showing an exciting new romantic adventure film about a handsome and daring military pilot starring Tom Cruise and Kelly McGillis, Top Gun. AC/DC released their unique soundtrack album Who Made Who and ballplayer Barry Bonds made his MLB debut for the Pittsburgh Pirates.

Since we were now a family of four plus a dog, moving into a sizeable house of our own became a priority for my parents, particularly Mom. We were preparing for our move to a new and bigger house somewhere close to Nana’s house by Marine Park. This move was made possible by Dad’s hard work and good salary as well as a loan from Mom’s Uncle John (a.k.a. Bampa). I was in no rush to move. I liked our house although I did not understand that it was not “our” house. When it was explained to me that our new house would be bigger with staircases up and down, I was intrigued. 

On an early summer day before the move, Mom’s close friend Jeannie came for a visit. I loved when she came over, she was so nice and always made me feel like a special kid. Our family dog Aragorn, who was already getting big although still less than one year old, would often pass hours hanging out chained to the front steps in all kinds of weather. It was a gorgeous, sunny, and warm day so we sat outside with Aragorn on the front porch of good ol’ 2326 East 19^th Street enjoying the lovely weather. Billy was restless in that unpredictable toddler way. I wore a white NY Yankees shirt with a red and blue design. The chocolate on the corners of my mouth, evidence that we had snack time not long before, accented my smile as I joyfully conversed with Jeannie. In her red-white checkered shirt, Jeannie asked me, “So, John Henry, are you excited to move into a big new house?”

“Yeah, I guess. But I really like our house now.”

“Well, just think, you’ll have more space to play, you’ll be close to Marine Park, and the best part is you can even walk to Nana’s house! Wouldn’t that be cool?”

“Well, yes it does sound really good. Can’t we just have two houses though?”

I graduated from Kindergarten at St. Mark School on June 19^th. Our kindergarten class held an end of the year play called The Giant’s Garden involving a grumpy giant who scares little children out of his garden only to realize he’s also scared away the lovely weather which makes his garden beautiful. When the children dare to venture back in again later, he welcomes them to stay as long as they like now as their true friend. Students dressed in simple costumes for the occasion. I was scared by the giant as his costume made him surprisingly tall and spooky. One of my classmates was also terrified and made a scene crying. Afterwards, in casual clothes (not uniforms) we celebrated with red, white, and blue popsicles.

In late June, Walt Disney was making a comeback from a long slump with its successful cartoon feature film The Great Mouse Detective. And our family was moving into our new place at 2160 East 35^th Street between Avenues U and T. This was a big deal for all of us and the first time any of us lived in “our own house”. And besides Mom, the first time any of us had access to so many rooms and multiple floors. Fortunately, the move did not really mean going to a completely new school as my parents were transferring me back into Saint Thomas Aquinas (where I had attended Pre-K) for my upcoming first grade year, but it definitely did mean making new friends. This was made a bit smoother as Mr. and Mrs. Lanza from right across the street came and introduced themselves, welcoming us onto the block. They had two sons around my age and a daughter about my brother’s age: Joe, Jack, and Lora. We also soon made the acquaintance of a friendly boy down the block, John Guglielmino Jr. [3] who was a few years older than me.

Our 4^th of July weekend was low-key. Dad went to work. So, Mom, Billy and I were home at night listening to the loud firecrackers and fireworks in our new house with a somewhat uncomfortable dog, Aragorn. Meanwhile, first lady Nancy Reagan attended the grand reopening and concert for Liberty Weekend, a celebration of the centennial of the Statue of Liberty in NYC.

Dad liked to take me and friends to new playgrounds and parks that he knew about or had recently discovered. One such park was West Playground (Avenue Z and West Street). I loved the high playground equipment and the amazing slide. It was better than any others I had visited. We went there once on a rainy day, and I was thrilled to go down so quickly on the wet slide! But, not so happy about getting the seat of my pants all wet. Another summer day, Dad took me and new friend Johnny G. to a nearby park (Avenue X and Gerritsen Avenue). I was excited to see a new place with different playground equipment such as the overhead climbing bars. It was all good fun until we witnessed an older kid fall from atop the climbing bars. He apparently received a concussion. A crowd gathered and the tone turned serious. The lesson to me was, this is what might happen when you fool around too much and don’t listen to the cautions of adults.

Several hot summer days were spent in Nana’s Backyard. I loved playing in a kiddie pool. More than the small, shallow inflatable pool, I preferred the taller Care Bears swimming pool that allowed us to play in deeper water. It was exciting and required patience waiting for Bampa or Nana to setup and fill the pool with hose water, which couldn’t happen quick enough. Usually, it was too cold to go into right away so perhaps it was better to have lunch first and wait for the sun to warm it up a bit. A favorite game was circling quickly around the pool to generate a whirlpool. I would play in the pool alone, with Billy or maybe neighbor Charlie Hertz would come over.

My blue and white Royce Union bicycle leaned against a fence or wall nearby waiting to be ridden when the mood struck. There were toys lying around. If Dad was there, he would sword fight with us or coach me as I practiced shooting my bow and arrow at a target sitting atop the wooden picnic table. There might be coffee cups and saucers on the garden tables or perhaps a Schmidt’s beer bottle depending on who was there. Aragorn might hang out with us back there too. Sometimes, we would have to play while trying to avoid towels, sheets, and general laundry hanging in the middle of the yard. The attached neighbor at the back was a serious gardener named Phil. And so, there was always lots of greenery and interesting things growing along the back. Occasionally Phil would offer some fresh harvest through the fence.

Dad and Mom took us to local amusement parks such as Nelly Bly on Shore Parkway or to Buddy’s on Utica Avenue next to Burger King. Billy and I would enjoy going on the available rides such as various merry-go-rounds in different types of vehicles: cars, planes, boats, motorcycles, or spaceships. We joyfully spun our steering wheels in mock driving mode with squinty eyes passing moments of summer fun as parents watched on. There was also my favorite ride, the beloved high slide which you would need to carry a sack up a long staircase in order to slide down on. In August AC/DC unleashed their single “You Shook Me All Night Long” and Madonna’s album True Blue began a lasting position at number 1 in the music charts.

On September 7^th, the Cleveland Browns and Chicago Bears football teams became the first NFL teams to have an instant replay shown during the airing of their game. That same day Miami Dolphins quarterback Dan Marino threw his 100^th touchdown pass about a week shy of his 25^th birthday. The next day a new talk show debuted nationally, The Oprah Winfrey Show. 

At our new house, Aragorn carried on his tradition of sitting outside chained to the front porch. I began 1^st grade and was now back at Saint Thomas Aquinas catholic school. My first-grade teacher Mrs. Conguista was a tall, friendly, and big-hearted woman who won the hearts of many a student. First grade had many enjoyable aspects including the basics of spelling and arithmetic. Art class was fun and something to look forward to. Sometimes if I was allowed to stay up and went to bed on the late side, I would catch some of The Late Show with Joan Rivers. I liked her style and thought she was funny.

There was palpable excitement in the air regarding the world of baseball. For New Yorkers, it was a very big deal that a New York team was in the Worlds Series and especially since it was the Mets, who up until this point had only won a single World Series Championship previously (in 1969). Dad managed to get himself a ticket to Game 6 of the World Series, attending with his sister Dolly and family friends Mick and Eileen Galligan. Mom and I were excited to watch the game at home that night. We excitedly said to each other, “Maybe we’ll see Daddy on TV in the crowd”. To capture this magical moment, Mom videotaped the game[4]. She woke alone in her bed later that night to bursts of jubilant noise and horns honking. “I guess the Mets won!” she mused to herself as she got up to have a look out the bedroom window onto the street.

On a mild-weathered October 31^st, we gathered to trick or treat for Halloween. Our group was comprised of family, friends, and neighborhood kids. We visited various houses around Nana’s neighborhood enjoying seeing the decorations as we walked along. Our little gang included a kitten, a clown, a Cabbage Patch Kid, He-Man, and others. As for myself, Mom dressed me up in a mostly homemade Captain Hook outfit. She had made my waistcoat from a crushed red velvet pillow cover. My frilly sleeve cuffs and neck scarf were cut from old white curtains. Mom drew a curly mustache above my lips with mascara. My pirate hat we already had in my hat collection as I was apparently a lover of headwear. I wore blue sweatpants and Norwegian rain galoshes as my boots. My pirate sword was a yellow plastic one with a hand guard. After our motley crew made the rounds down a couple of streets, we gathered in Nana’s backyard for some candy eating and a few photos.

Whenever we visited Nana’s house you could be sure the evening news would be on TV if we were there during that timeframe. Some of the news that November might have touched on the posthumous release of John Lennon’s album Menlove Avenue, the Iran-Contra affair, NASA, AIDS, and Mike Tyson - who became the youngest heavyweight champion in history on November 22^nd at age 20.

A week later, Mom started her tradition of hosting Thanksgiving dinner at our house[5]. As this was the first time Mom hosted a holiday at her own place, it was a big deal. There were a lot of people, a lot of prep and a lot of food. All the Sheridans were present it seemed. Many people came to help on the evening before. The kitchen was abustle filled with smokers drinking coffee and soft drinks except Aunt Dolly who drank her Budweiser beers. This established something of a Thanksgiving Eve tradition going forward. Thanksgiving Day saw the house filled with Sheridan-related family members as well as Jemma and Donny Loughlin. Dad was proud as a peacock to be able to host his favorite holiday in his own home with all of his people. 

I was soon to turn six-years-old. Wow, I’m really growing up! Around my birthday we had a gathering at our new house. Before and after cake time, us kids played in the living room. We played in that shy way that a mixed group of kids (who don’t normally play together) do. I held a sword as I wondered what kind of game we could all play. The couches and lamps in the living room were those we brought from “the old house”. We were still in transition and “the new house” had a way to go before it really acquired a character all its own.

Cake time was in the dining room. There was a flower arrangement mid-table and a pretty lace tablecloth. Along the staircase were four stockings hanging on the banister with gold garland. One had the words “Baby Johnny” written in silver-gold glitter. That’s funny, I’m not a baby anymore. I’m six! Dad stood there in his jeans and blue button-down shirt cheering on the cake scene. Red-headed Donny was behind my chair as I sat before a lovely chocolate birthday cake - brown frosting, crème flowers, blue lettering – and blew out the candles. Behind me, Mom clapped and exclaimed a quiet, motherly, “Yay!”.

Christmas Eve was spent at Nana’s. The Christmas tree was decorated with tinsel and colorful ornaments. The curtains were thick and orange. There was a tree with a red bow decoration hanging on the front door. A dining room chair was in the middle of the living room partially blocking the large wooden furniture piece TV set with the VCR and holiday knick-knacks on top. After our customary dinner, dessert, and visit from Santa, I played in the living room with my new Voltron face mask and gun. Dad sat nearby drinking a glass of beer and handling his smoking pipe. Bampa was on the sofa in his regular seat eating Christmas sweets between smoking cigarettes and trying to watch TV despite the various interferences. 

Christmas Day, after a morning of opening presents under the tree at our new house, was spent at Grandma Loretta’s with Dad’s side of the family. I enjoyed the remaining holiday break from school and on New Year’s Eve I wondered what the year ahead would be like. Goodbye 1986. Hello 1987. Wow!