Story Time
The West Harrison Library sits on the corner of Madison Street and Underhill Avenue in a section of Harrison, NY, called East White Plains, or Silver Lake, or The Lake. The library was small, no bigger than the row of two-family houses that lined Madison Street on either side. Behind the library, Underhill merges with Lake Street, the main road into White Plains. Lake Street was lined with shops, restaurants and a firehouse on one side, and Silver Lake Park on the other.
My parents had moved from Colden Avenue in the Bronx to Madison Street in Silver Lake when I was about three. We lived on the second floor of a two-family house, in a three-bedroom apartment. While my earliest memories are of the apartment on Colden Avenue, it was on Madison that my life began to take shape.
And it was in the library that my life would change.
The West Harrison Library had a program for small children called "Story Time". Librarians would read children's books as we sat around the room and listened. I remember the smell of the room -- that library smell of used books and cleaning fluids. I also remember leaving the library one day with another boy about the same age as I was. My mother was talking with his mother, so we, naturally, began talking. His name was also Eric and he lived a few blocks away.
It started on that walk and would continue to this day. From the adventures of children's imaginations in a library to the adventures of a lifetime, Eric and I have continued our friendship that we started that day.
We went over each other's houses for play dates. Our mothers, along with four other neighborhood moms, created a "nursery school" where we went to each others houses and played and did arts and crafts. We had dinner with each other's families and learned how different our families were, and how much the same. We slept over in each other's rooms -- playing scary records in his room and playing a lost-at-sea game in mine. We competed against each other in every way possible -- who can do a handstand the longest, who can build a taller tower with blocks, who can hold their breath longer -- yet always seemed to keep it a friendly rivalry.
As we grew older, our lives took different courses. First, my parents would move again, this time into White Plains. We went to different schools. Eric became an athlete, playing football and wrestling in high school and lacrosse in college. I studied martial arts in high school but chose the wilder side by the time I was seventeen.
Still, we remained friends and saw each other from time-to-time. When we graduated college we discovered the outdoors together and have gone on countless trips together. We were each other's best man at our weddings. It is with Eric's family that I make wine. It is with my family that he shares the Fourth of July.
It's been almost thirty-three years since I met Eric. Ask anyone who sees the two of us together, though, and they will tell your that we bring out the little boy in each of us. We still find ways to compete. We still play games.
And what was once just a seed planted at Story Time has grown into a giant oak of a friendship.
My parents had moved from Colden Avenue in the Bronx to Madison Street in Silver Lake when I was about three. We lived on the second floor of a two-family house, in a three-bedroom apartment. While my earliest memories are of the apartment on Colden Avenue, it was on Madison that my life began to take shape.
And it was in the library that my life would change.
The West Harrison Library had a program for small children called "Story Time". Librarians would read children's books as we sat around the room and listened. I remember the smell of the room -- that library smell of used books and cleaning fluids. I also remember leaving the library one day with another boy about the same age as I was. My mother was talking with his mother, so we, naturally, began talking. His name was also Eric and he lived a few blocks away.
It started on that walk and would continue to this day. From the adventures of children's imaginations in a library to the adventures of a lifetime, Eric and I have continued our friendship that we started that day.
We went over each other's houses for play dates. Our mothers, along with four other neighborhood moms, created a "nursery school" where we went to each others houses and played and did arts and crafts. We had dinner with each other's families and learned how different our families were, and how much the same. We slept over in each other's rooms -- playing scary records in his room and playing a lost-at-sea game in mine. We competed against each other in every way possible -- who can do a handstand the longest, who can build a taller tower with blocks, who can hold their breath longer -- yet always seemed to keep it a friendly rivalry.
As we grew older, our lives took different courses. First, my parents would move again, this time into White Plains. We went to different schools. Eric became an athlete, playing football and wrestling in high school and lacrosse in college. I studied martial arts in high school but chose the wilder side by the time I was seventeen.
Still, we remained friends and saw each other from time-to-time. When we graduated college we discovered the outdoors together and have gone on countless trips together. We were each other's best man at our weddings. It is with Eric's family that I make wine. It is with my family that he shares the Fourth of July.
It's been almost thirty-three years since I met Eric. Ask anyone who sees the two of us together, though, and they will tell your that we bring out the little boy in each of us. We still find ways to compete. We still play games.
And what was once just a seed planted at Story Time has grown into a giant oak of a friendship.
posted by E-Luv at 9:09 AM
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