"if a girl isn't pretty like a miss atlantic city"...

like heck all she gets in life is HBO, Showtime, Cinemax, and Starz... and mornings and late nights filled with On Demand.

the last days of autumn

In 2000, I took a catamaran ride up the Hudson River to West Point. The fall foliage was beautiful along the way. And during this fall of 2008, I visited Historic Richmond Town on Staten Island, where the pumpkins were ready for pickin'.

they called me MISS Levine

I was a teacher in NYC for 34 years. I have almost 34 class pictures to reflect my long career. I had read in the UFT paper, "The NewYork Teacher," about the long career of Regina Sayres, who is now 100 years old. She was a teacher at PS 41M in 1968 during the time of that long teachers' strike. I was there during that time when Ms. Sayres was there, and at a place when she was perhaps ending her career... mine was just beginning.
I looked through all the class photos in my collection, and I selected a few for inclusion in this blog. I have chosen the classes of 1968, 1980, 1986, and 1994... and all the memories come flooding back.
(please click on each photo to enlarge)

home sweet home

The above photo was taken the year I retired. My apartment had been slightly redone. Since I prefer an open floor plan, I ditched the screens. I also tossed the lamps and that vase on the table. I am a minimalist and now my flop joint is totally feng shui. And oh, that old iMac has been replaced as well. Can we say "Architectural Digest?"
The bottom photo was taken at my retirement party. I look happy. But it was bittersweet. I was saying good-bye to a career that took me through 34 long and hard years.

2003: miami

1991: chicago

the view along the ride on Lake Shore Drive was magnificent

1987: washington, d.c.

the people lined up to get in to see the Iran-Contra hearings

1987: boston

the birthplace of JFK

1986: newport, rhode island

moments forgotten, found, remembered

1986: palm beach

The Breakers and a Palm Beach restaurant

1985: beverly hills

I visited the Bel-Air hotel and took advantage of a few photo ops

1985: jacksonville

the hotel was the highlight of this trip, an oasis of calm serenity

1977: las vegas and los angeles

in Las Vegas I stayed at the Tropicana and then the Hilton. I found these two photos I took during that trip. I love Frank Sinatra.

1975: san francisco

I had mixed feelings about this trip. But, I loved Fisherman's Wharf.

1970: europe

in 1970, I went with friends to Rome, Lisbon, Paris and Madrid. Here I am in Rome at the Spanish Steps, the Colosseum, and Trevi Fountain. And in the bottom row, I am at Estoril Beach in Lisbon and the Eiffel Tower in Paris.

1969: las vegas

this was a family trip in 1969 to Las Vegas. We stayed at the Stardust Hotel... I loved that dress, which I bought at a store called Paraphernalia

expo '67: montreal

one day I opted for a "fall"... and mysterious sunglasses completed my look

1965: puerto rico

I took the photo. My sister opted in this time. It shows she copied my daytime hairstyle: rollers to prepare the hair for the fancy and humid San Juan nights at the La Concha Hotel.

September 1977

I visited Las Vegas and Los Angeles in 1977, and I just found these two photos I took during that trip. I love Frank Sinatra.

June 1961, The Pines Hotel

another fence, another mural

After 16 years in one school, I moved on. I transferred to a school on the lower east side of Manhattan. This new school was rather bucolic by comparison. We could see the East River from the windows of the school and nice trees lined the side streets. I could even walk to Katz's.

the photo that gets an encore

I look at this photo and I am reminded of the best years of my life. I loved teaching in this school. The scene is pretty gritty, with that barbed wire so visibly protecting the railroad tracks. The school was built in 1896. There were no frills among those landscapes back then.

a manhattan ghost town

When I was a teacher at the pink school in the upper left of the bottom two photos, the low area in the photos was just simply called "the train tracks." I used to tell people that there were days the teachers and students had to walk over dead bodies to get into the school. I was often misunderstood. My listeners believed that I was telling them in some obtuse way that corpses blocked the entrance to the school. That was not the case. The bodies were found as they lay forgotten along these railroad tracks. They were often discovered by some "hobo" or other "drifter" as they wandered along these winding paths rummaging with long sticks through the piles of debris that were strewn along the way.
These days the "sunken corridor" exists in stark contrast to the much discussed more southern "highline." These tracks are between 10th and 11th Avenues and are visible on both 44th and 45th Street through the cracks of the silver fences. I looked north and I looked south through those openings, and I took photos of this amazing sight yesterday. I was even able to catch a shot of a train down below as it traveled south and whizzed by under the overpass on which I was standing. But, yesterday's photos could not be developed for some bizarre technical reasons. They are totally blank.
I returned today and took more photos, but unfortunately no train passed through. After waiting for quite some time for another locomotive photo op, I was told by a young teacher that exited the school that no trains even use those tracks any longer. I was confused, but I relished my eery moment of yesterday and I left with a great sense of glee: my wonderful shots of that "phantom train" will now exist only in my memory as it sped quickly south on yesterday's rainy Thursday afternoon. It carried invisible passengers to some unknown downtown destination in... "The Twilight Zone."
Please enjoy this second round of photos of the "sunken corridor" which still sits on a vista that now resembles a forgotten and neglected and worn out Manhattan ghost town.




These tracks pass from a "sunken corridor" to the famous "highline" as they stretch south through Manhattan. There is a great deal of information about NYC's "highline." During today's late Friday afternoon, I visited the Allen Sheppard Gallery on West 25th Street and viewed the amazing photos of this highline by James Bleeker.
And here is my photo of the highline that I took on West 25th Street as I left the gallery.

a trip back, 11/14/08

I returned to the school today to look at that painted wall from so long ago. The mural has been removed and the brick is covered with dull grey paint... and the lovely artwork that the students created 36 years ago is now gone.

a "sunken corridor"

There is a great deal of information about NYC's "highline." I visited the Allen Sheppard Gallery on West 25th Street today and viewed the amazing photos of this highline by James Bleeker. In stark contrast to the highline is the "sunken corridor," which is between 10th and 11th Avenues and is visible on both 44th and 45th Street through the cracks of the silver fences. I took photos of this amazing sight yesterday, and even was able to catch a shot of a train down below as it whizzed by. But, all of the photos could not be developed for some technical malfunction. I returned today and took more photos, but unfortunately no train passed. I was told that no trains even use those tracks any longer. So my great shots of that "phantom train" will exist only in my memory as it rode quickly by on that rainy Thursday afternoon carrying invisible passengers to some unknown downtown destination.
Please enjoy this second round of photos of the sunken corridor which still sits on a vista that now resembles a forgotten and neglected and worn out ghost town.

art imitates life

circa 1972: The children at the school painted a wall. Then a story about the wall appeared in a children's magazine. The photo here was taken after the graduation that year and the wall is clearly visible in the background.
(The students painted the wall, the illustration of the wall for the periodical was I think by J. Robinson)

dorian fey

in 1958, 1961, 1975, and in 1976, I dined on my own hair... the early signs of trichitillomania?