In the neighborhood where I grew up, summer was a time of carefree fun for kids. We always had a place to go and something to do. The public school was the destination of choice. All through July and August, the school was open with a free program for the kids.
There was no charge. The public school teachers earned a few extra bucks for working the summer, and that was paid by the N.Y.C. Board of Education. There were schoolyard activities, indoor games and free trips to the public pool in McCarren Park.
Punch ball was a favorite, and it usually spilled over into the street during the evening hours. When it got dark, we ran ourselves silly with ring-o-levio.
I saw my first baseball game, courtesy of the “summer” school at P.S. 126. Ronnie Kline pitched the Pittsburgh Pirates to a 7-3 win over the Brooklyn Dodgers at Ebbets Field. In right field for the visiting team was Roberto Clemente. Jackie Robinson played second for the home team; Roy Campanella was behind the plate; and Duke Snider was roaming center field. That was 1957, and you couldn’t see a professional baseball game in Brooklyn again until 2001.
Every summer, even though we went to Catholic school, we looked forward to hanging out in the public schools. It was a chance for us to get to know teachers who weren’t nuns or brothers. Two favorites were Mr. “K” and Mr. Flannery, who was particularly popular because he also was a professional boxer who fought in Sunnyside Gardens.
As we got older, summer fun gave way to summer jobs and a chance to earn a few bucks. Even though they were minimum wage jobs, it was enough to keep us in soda and chips and a weekend movie. We were happy to have it.
A popular job was working in the parish summer programs that were funded by the government through Catholic Charities. Teenage counselors were needed to take care of younger kids. There would be activities in the local church centers and yards, and every day there was a trip to the beach or a park, with an occasional museum thrown in for culture.
A recent Facebook posting bemoaning the fact that a 17-year-old boy today couldn’t find a summer job drew several reactions, all of which had a common theme – “same problem here.” No one is hiring kids for the summer.
The public school programs dried up. Government funds for church programs are non-existent. And the Dodgers packed up and moved to California. Mets’ tickets start at around $20. The Cyclones are a reasonable alternative with $10 getting you a bleacher seat.
There’s too much traffic to play in the streets. No one plays stickball anymore. No one even hangs out on stoops any more. Organized ball seems to stop with the end of school, and the city’s public diamonds are empty. Block vs. block competition has faded from the scene.
Today, everything has a cost. Even a two-week vacation Bible school is likely to have a fee to cover books and materials. Join a summer league in the sport of your choice, and that’s an easy $150.
The kids are still around, but too often they are not the priority and then we complain when they get into trouble.
How things have changed! The summer doesn’t seem so carefree these days. Life was so much simpler when there wasn’t a price tag attached to every move we made.