MOVING ON 18 North Shore Towers Courier n March 2015 BY ROBERTA GRAFF For two years shy of half a century, my family and I lived in a split level in a cul de sac off East Broadway in Woodmere, New York. It was not only one of those “child perfect” streets but walking distance to the school, the station, the library and the former Loehmanns. As a young mother with a babe in my arms and a toddler at my side I was thrilled by all the rooms, the attic, the garage, the washing machine and the lovely back yard. I no longer had to keep suitcases under the bed, hunt for a parking space on crowded Queen’s streets, and search for quarters for the machines in the laundry room in the basement of our apartment building. I was overwhelmed! Not, however as overwhelmed, as when after just three months on the market, an enthusiastic young couple with a two year old and a baby on the way became the new owners of the white house at the end of the block on Finucane Place. We promised to move out in ten weeks. Since, I was never much of a saver, I thought it would take us two. But before we began the hauling, shredding, sorting and shlepping we began to take stock of the memories that the house held. This is where we celebrated holidays, mourned parents, recovered from broken bones, broken hearts, measles, chicken pox, mono and cancer. This is where we opened college acceptance letters (and a few rejections) tried new recipes, had parties and trained a dog. This is where we met future in-laws, new grandchildren and new friends. And this is where we laughed, cried and spent almost three quarters of our lives. How could we let strange people, no matter how adorable they are, live here? They tell me moving is one of life’s most traumatic experiences. But we were healthy, together and going to a dream apartment. How could we be traumatized? And so we wiped away the tears as we filled garbage bags with cards, pictures, report cards, letters from camp and diaries. My husband dumped his golf trophies, his basic training photos, 20 years worth of stock transactions and his Lawrence High School prom pictures. I parted with the crown I wore at our wedding, a few mini dresses, faded love letters, hair rollers, blowers and curlers, and luggage without wheels. And then there were the books, the camp trunks, the army boots, and the sleeping bags and canteens. There were cameras, tape recorders and vinyl records, my mother-in laws’china, my mother’s linens, and Aunt Fanny’s Waterford pitchers. We called in dealers, had a tag sale and contacted numerous charities. Still there was stuff. We pleaded with the garbage men, the gardeners and the mailmen. Please… doesn’t anyone want a tablecloth, needlepoint pillows, a hooked rug? Treasures were scorned, junk was coveted. Finally after ten weeks of blood (I cut my leg on a discarded fireplace grate), sweat and a great many tears we happily handed the keys to the new owners. It was time. They were young enough to handle the stairs, all the rooms, the garden and the snow. It was our castle for 48 years and now it was theirs. With our love and best wishes the house was now theirs. A few days later I ran into an acquaintance at a local restaurant. “I hear you moved out,” she said. “Not really”, I said. “Moved on is more like it.” Roberta has lived at the North Shore Towers for almost a year and has been published in The New York Times, Newsday, and Travel Holiday Brides magazines. A MESSAGE FROM YOUR NEW MEMBER COMMITTEE We hope everyone is enjoying winter at North Shore Towers. There are plenty of activities, which are available to you, especially in the Health Club. Just a reminder that if you look into the green folder that you received when you moved into the Towers, there should be a list of clubs that meet every month. Perhaps you have been too busy moving into your apartment, but take a few minutes to find out what clubs you might be interested in joining. Also, when you enter the Country Club, there is a calendar & a schedule of the classes that are given almost every hour of every day in the gym. This is at the front desk and any of the receptionists will be happy to help you with your questions. Wishing everyone a Very Happy & Healthy New Year, Roz Worobow, Committee Member REVIEW BY FRED CHERNOW Bob Ricken, recently retired President of North Shore Towers and prolific author, has written a book that will tug at the heart of every reader no matter their gender or residential origin. It is a coming-of-age story of 16 eleven-year-old boys growing up in Crown Heights. It could easily be Washington Heights or Jackson Heights or any other part of New York City. Their mutual bond was a social-athletic club known as the Saxons S.A.C.…. complete with satin jackets. They organized as seventh graders during World War II and are still in frequent contact more than seventy years later. Bob’s narrative takes us through their nascent sexuality, military service, careers, family, reunions and the ultimate separation as ten of the sixteen take their final leave. Dozens of photos put faces to the names and illustrate lots of memorabilia. And what wonderful nicknames they have: Buddy, Moose, Kid, Chink and Denny are just a few. Bob ends with: “This book is our love story. We all had siblings but were blessed by also having 15 brothers.” Saxons S.A.C. 1942-Eternity was published by Bob for the members of the club and their families. NEW MEMBER COCKTAIL PARTY for members who moved into the Towers from October 2014 through May 2015. WEDNESDAY, MAY 13 AT 6PM IN THE VIP ROOM. BY INVITATION ONLY. SAXONS S.A.C.
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