EVERYBODY SEEMED TO LOVE Mr. Oscar. Oscar, as almost everyone called him, was a remarkable man and the possessor of a remarkable talent. Few people who heard his magnificent tenor voice in action whether he was singing the Episcopal church hymns he loved so well, the tenor notes in a quartet, or the touching strains of “Deep River” would deny this. His was an extraordinary talent which he used freely to sing God’s praise and to give other people joy.
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BEFORE THE COMING OF THE STREETCARS, most people who were early settlers in Brooklyn walked wherever they wanted to go, especially to and from work. Later, a very few people had automobiles, but most of them who were able to afford riding used a horse and a carriage.
A RAMBLING WOODEN, two-story building known as Myers Street School was the hubcap in the spoke wheel of Brooklyn. This enormous, ungainly structure with several large shade trees surrounding it was in the middle of a square plot of land fronting on Myers Street. Reports from various sources say that the school was named in honor of Mr. Myers who sold the land to the city for a school for colored children in 1887. At one time, it was the only school in the city they could attend.
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MY MEMORY OF BROOKLYN would be incomplete without some space being given to our laundry man. He was very fair, tall, lanky, raw-boned and angular. If dressed in buckskins, he would have looked quite the type that one would imagine a frontiersman to have been. Courage showed in his every action, and one could readily see that he feared no man. He moved in every street and alley in Brooklyn and carried a large amount of money in his leather bag, but I never heard of him being molested. Every week, he came for our laundry and brought it back on time.
ONE OF THE MOST exciting and disastrous events that ever occurred in Brooklyn was the big fire of 1917. The day was a pleasant one, and most of our family was at home pursuing various duties and engaging in bits of homey conversation when we heard that there was a fire on a nearby street.
OFTEN IN THE MIDDLE hours of the night, our family was awakened by the soft, lifting notes of a string band that had come to serenade us. This music sounded strangely beautiful in the velvety darkness of night. The wonderful spirit of the men who came to share their music with various families in Brooklyn added even more beauty to the occasion.
I REMEMBER MISS HANNAH as my mother’s dearest friend. They differed in appearance and actions, but there existed a bond of love between them that was never broken. When my mother was a corpse at the undertakers, Miss Hannah went there and spent a while with her. Though my mother was stilled in death, I feel that she must have known her friend was by her side.